Uncovered: A Hearts of the South story

by Linda Winfree

  Caitlin extended a hand, her bottle-green eyes cool and watchful. “A pleasure to see you again, Ms. Holton.”

  “Madeline, please.” She took the proffered hand, studying the details of Caitlin’s face. She was a beauty but appeared tired, a little drawn, the line of her mouth tight.

  Autry rubbed a hand across her belly. “Maddie is Stanton’s new interim investigator.”

  “Really.” Caitlin arched a brow. Some indefinable unspoken communication passed between Tick and her, and he scowled.

  “Looks like he’s grown.” Ash leaned over the drowsing baby and touched a finger to his cheek. He stirred and Caitlin stiffened.

  “Ash, wait, please don’t—”

  A plaintive wail rent the air, and Caitlin cringed. Tick’s lashes fell, his shoulders slumping with his muttered “hell”.

  “Lee’s here.” Stanton strode into the room, chuckling, as the baby’s coughing cries grew louder. Tick slanted a killing scowl in Stanton’s direction.

  Caitlin leaned down and made quick work of the straps holding the squalling baby in the seat. She lifted him against her chest, murmuring soothing nothings. Ash grimaced. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay.” Tick waved off the apology. “He’s just grumpy. If you hadn’t set him off, something else would.”

  “He was born grouchy.” Stanton slapped Tick on the back. “Don’t know where he gets that from.”

  Against Caitlin’s chest, the baby scrunched into a stiff ball and howled while she dug in the diaper bag. Madeline’s throbbing pulsed harder. Did all babies do that? Maybe she hadn’t missed out on anything by not becoming a mother, after all.

  With a pacifier and some patient comforting, the baby soon rested, half-dozing, in his mother’s arms. After a few minutes, Caitlin tucked him back into his carrier. Autry hustled them all to the table, and Madeline found herself sitting at Ash’s side and directly across the table from Tick.

  Great. Just wonderful.

  The busyness of passing food and filling plates blessed her with a few moments of distraction. Under the table, Ash’s knee nudged hers. She glanced at him quickly, only to find him turned away to pass the salad bowl in Stanton’s direction. She resisted an overwhelming need to shift sideways.

  “Madeline, you’re here only temporarily?” Caitlin’s quiet question startled her.

  “Yes.” She studied the other woman. No guile or malice gleamed in her gaze; the question seemed posed out of mere politeness or curiosity. “For the next six weeks.”

  In the process of sprinkling parmesan atop his lasagna, Tick made a nondescript noise in his throat. Caitlin’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Madeline. “So you’re on leave from your department?”

  “That’s right.” Awareness of Ash’s regard trickled down her spine, swirling into the tension caused by Caitlin’s questions. Something about that easy inquiry set her teeth on edge. She narrowed her eyes at Caitlin. Two could play the oh-so-polite interrogation game. “You’re FBI. Which branch? Organized crime?”

  “Behavioral science. I’m a criminal profiler.”

  Well, didn’t that beat all. Those innocent questions suddenly made a lot more sense. Madeline forced a smile to her lips. “Sounds interesting.”

  “It can be.” Caitlin brushed her hair behind her ear. “If I remember correctly, you’re with Jacksonville’s PD.”

  “Yep.” Her stomach knotted and she choked down the bite she’d just taken of her sister’s luscious vegetable lasagna. “Homicide.”

  Caitlin’s gaze lingered on her a second before she turned to ask Autry about her latest obstetrician visit. With attention finally off her, Madeline let herself relax, only to look up and find Tick’s hard gaze on her. Her appetite decimated, she picked at a piece of crusty garlic bread and pushed her salad around its plate.

  As much as she hated to admit it, maybe Tick was right. Maybe they just needed to deal with what had happened that long-ago night and in the days that followed. Whether she liked it or not, she would have to work with him, at least for the six weeks she’d promised Stanton when he’d offered her the temp position.

  Dealing with the past wasn’t an option tonight, though. She glanced at Caitlin, then at Ash. Definitely not tonight.

  Maybe tomorrow, when Madeline was once more trapped in a squad car with the one man who truly despised her.

  Damn, he was headed for deep trouble. While he helped Stanton and Tick clear the table, Ash studied Madeline Holton once more as Autry moved the women outside to take advantage of an unseasonably warm evening. She had to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen with her long dark hair, big hazel eyes, full mouth.

  She was also, from his experience, the most dangerous type of woman a man could encounter. First impressions could definitely deceive a guy. That afternoon, outside the diner, he’d seen a brashly confident woman, sure of herself, the kind of woman who met a man on equal footing. She looked anything but confident now, choosing a chair near the edge of the deck, as far from Autry and Caitlin as she could get. Her body stiff, she folded her arms over her chest and stared into the yard.

  Removed. Isolated. Not what he’d seen in her that afternoon. He almost smiled. One thing was for sure—she was a dichotomy. A challenge to figure out.

  Hell, he knew how dangerous those were as well.

  His second impression had surely been tainted by what little Stanton and Autry had said about Madeline—quick-tempered, stubborn, demanding, always wanting to take the hard way anywhere. As he’d talked with her earlier, he’d caught glimpses of the woman he’d thought she was first, tempting him to forget his hard-won common sense. He’d been willing to overlook that, give in to the temptation to get to know her better.

  Until Tick walked in the room.

  Over dinner, his third impression had cemented his conviction that Madeline Holton was a woman to be avoided. She was distinctly uncomfortable, her posture rigid and aloof, a sure sign that she didn’t feel she belonged. Even more obviously, she had some type of hang-up where Tick was concerned. She darted secret looks in his direction, and with each one, her expression grew more and more unhappy, the line of her shoulders grew more and more taut.

  Therefore, despite being the most intriguing female he’d met in a long time, Madeline was off limits. He’d already had one high-maintenance woman with a hankering for another man try to ruin him. He didn’t need another one.

  Shrugging off the musings, he passed a stack of silverware to Tick, who was loading the dishwasher while Stanton wiped down the kitchen. He squinted at Tick’s drawn features. “You look wasted.”

  “I am.” Tick dropped the forks in the basket. “Tired as hell.”

  “See?” Stanton swiped a sponge over the island. “Having Madeline on hand will take a load off you, too.”

  Straightening, Tick fixed him with a deadpan stare. “Right. Having her around is going to really help things at work. This is the same woman who blamed you for her father’s death. For your daughter’s death. Remember?”

  “Her father had just died, suddenly and violently. People do odd things under those circumstances.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tick—”

  “I’m going to remind you of this conversation when we’re cleaning up whatever mess she causes before she skips out again.”

  Curious, Ash leaned on the counter, cast a quick glance out the window at the women on the deck then shifted his attention to Tick. “You don’t like her?”

  “I don’t trust her.” After adding detergent to the dishwasher, Tick closed the door a little harder than necessary. “She’s a conniving liar.”

  “Damn it, Tick.” Stanton looked toward the kitchen door, which led to the deck. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Trust me, she knows how I feel.”

  Stanton studied Tick, frowning. “Autry’s never said anything—”

  “Autry doesn’t know.” Tick passed a hand over his jaw. “Look, just drop it, okay? You hired her, she
’ll only be here six weeks—if I’m lucky—and I can handle it that long.”

  “What did she do?” At Ash’s quiet question, both Stanton and Tick turned surprised expressions in his direction. He shrugged. Yeah, asking was out of character for him, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

  Tick’s dark gaze flitted from Ash to Stanton. “I can’t say.”

  “What? First, you’re bitching because I hired her, then you insinuate she’s less than ethical, and now you can’t explain. Shit, Tick.”

  “I promised Virgil I wouldn’t.” Tick’s shoulders moved in an uncomfortable roll. “He didn’t want her mother or…anyway, I gave him my word.”

  Stanton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, that’s just great.”

  Tick shrugged. “I’ll stick close to her, Stan, keep an eye on her, all right? We’ll find a way to make it work. It’s only six weeks. How much damage can she do in a month and a half?”

  Who was Tick trying harder to convince—Stanton or himself?

  “I’m going to see if Cait’s ready to go.” Tick jerked a thumb toward the back door.

  Once it closed behind him, Ash slanted a sideways glance at Stanton. “He’s wound pretty tight.”

  Stanton huffed a humorless laugh. “No kidding. I thought having Madeline here, taking some of the pressure off him would help. Guess I was wrong.”

  “He’ll be fine. He always is.” Ash rested both hands on the counter’s edge and let his gaze travel to the window once more. On the deck, Tick leaned down to lift the baby from Caitlin’s arms and waved Autry to stay seated. Madeline darted another of those secretive looks at him. Ash frowned. Something was…off…there, something he didn’t get.

  Was that attraction or dislike that kept her so focused on Tick?

  “He’d better be fine. I need him back on his game.” Stanton came to stand beside him. Madeline unfolded from her chair, and as Caitlin and Tick came in the back door, her voice carried in with them.

  “I think I’m going to head out as well.” That indefinable strain tightened her words. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “You don’t have to go yet.” Autry followed her sister into the room. “It feels like you just got here.”

  “It’s been a long day.” Irony laced Madeline’s voice. Tick looked up from placing the baby in his carrier. Palpable tension vibrated between them before he dropped his gaze.

  He hefted the infant seat. “Cait? You ready?”

  At her nod, they exited in a small flurry of thank-yous and good-nights. Autry turned to Madeline. “I wish you’d stay a little longer.”

  She shrugged into her jacket. “I have an early day tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk out with you.” Ash pulled his keys from his pocket and leaned down to kiss Autry’s cheek. “Dinner was awesome.”

  Madeline eyed him, wariness coloring her features. “You don’t have to.”

  He put on an easy grin. “You’re not the only one with an early day ahead of you.”

  Outside, a hint of cool air kissed the unseasonable warmth. His truck waited beside her compact sedan and the gravel walk crunched under their feet as they walked toward the vehicles. She glanced back once at the house, a strange hurt flickering over her features before she straightened her shoulders to a near-impossible angle. Unhappiness hung around her like a pall, a loneliness that stopped him from cutting his losses, especially after everything Tick had said, and walking straight to his driver’s side door.

  He leaned against the truck’s hood while she unlocked her car. “What do you like to do during your free time?”

  With the door partially open, she froze and confusion glinted in her hazel gaze before disappearing beneath shuttered contempt. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “What are you so afraid of?” He spread his elbows to a more comfortable position.

  She slammed the door and came to stand before him. Outrage rolled off her in waves. “I’m not afraid of anything. I’ve told you I’m not interested and you won’t back off. End of story.”

  Bravado. Lots of ballsy bravado that still didn’t quite cover the soul-deep isolation that shrouded her and called to him. Pushing wouldn’t work with her, though. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “It is.” Her chin lifted to a challenging angle, daring him to dispute her statement.

  “Good night, then.” He inclined his head and stepped away from the truck. She backed up, stumbling a bit in her haste. He didn’t reach to steady her, but let her regain her footing alone. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Madeline.”

  She snorted. “Sure it was.”

  He lifted a hand and strode around to the driver’s side. The old Ford rumbled to life, reliable as ever, and while the cold-natured engine warmed, he patted the gas pedal a couple of times. His wrist draped over the wheel, he watched in the rearview as Madeline reversed hard and flew down the drive. He shook his head and reached for the gearshift.

  Confident and breezy, then prickly and wary. Obsessed? Lonely and afraid of connecting.

  Like he could walk away from that puzzle without a second thought.

  ***

  “You didn’t tell me Autry’s sister was your new investigator.” Caitlin shifted her fingers over Lee’s soft hair. His eyes drooped sleepily, mouth relaxing, and Caitlin eased him away from her breast and slid her chemise strap into place before lifting him to her shoulder and rubbing his back.

  “Mmpf.” Clad in a pair of navy sleep pants, Tick sprawled on their bed, face turned into his pillow. “Been trying to forget.”

  Lee burped softly against her neck. Caitlin rose from the rocker, her gaze trailing over Tick’s strong back. “You seemed edgy tonight.”

  “Yeah.” With his foot, Tick pushed the quilt toward the end of the bed. He curled both arms under the pillow and pulled it closer. “A little.”

  “I’m putting the baby down. I’ll be right back.”

  Tick’s only reply was a noncommittal grunt. She paused in the doorway and watched him a moment before taking the baby upstairs.

  Getting Lee settled didn’t take long, but Caitlin lingered over him. She didn’t know which was worse—that her husband only seemed to touch her when he had to or that he’d stopped talking to her. She stroked the soft back of Lee’s little hand. His fingers curled and flexed.

  She had no doubt that Tick was in full protective-male mode where she was concerned. While she loved the trait in the right time and place, at the moment, protection was the last thing she wanted from him. She wanted her husband back, all of him, from the man who confided in her and talked about everything with her, to the sweet, playful, often demanding lover who shared her nights. Since she’d always been a take-charge kind of personality…maybe it was time to take him back.

  Maybe once she forged that physical connection between them she could get him to open up about why Madeline Holton seemed to put him so on edge.

  Leaning down, she whispered a kiss over Lee’s brow. If she was lucky, this would be one of the nights when he chose to sleep through his middle-of-the-night feeding. She had distinctly naughty plans for his father.

  Downstairs, she cut off all the lights except the one over the kitchen sink. In the bedroom, the lamp glimmered on Tick’s bare skin. He remained where she’d left him, eyes closed, lashes fanned over his cheekbones. With a tug of desire kicking off within her, she pulled off the boot socks she always filched from him when winter made the hardwood floors too cool for comfort.

  “Tick.” She placed a knee on the mattress, swept her fingers across the small of his back, dipped them into the dimples at the base of his spine.

  “Mmm?” Sleep husked his voice, making the drawl a deep purr she felt all the way through her body. She shivered. God, she loved that voice, loved the way his murmur, before he even touched her, could make her ready and wet.

  “Tired?” She straddled his thighs, rubbing her thumbs along his spine, working the kinks out of the muscles. The warm resiliency of his flesh under her
fingers shot tingles of awareness along her nerve endings.

  “Yeah.” He turned his head, resting his cheek on his arm, and a heavy sigh rumbled from him. She moved higher, stroking and massaging the tension from his body. “Lord, that feels good. Love your hands on me. Don’t stop.”

  “Don’t worry.” With her knees, she hugged his hips, the simple act of touching him sending sparky flashes of wanting through her. She ached, a heavy yearning settling low in her belly, flowing between her legs. It had been too long. “I won’t.”

  Under her touch, she felt the strain leave his long, lean frame. Memories cascaded through her mind, other nights when she’d done this, leaving him boneless and satisfied, until he turned into her, and they came together in a slow, easy coupling.

  Bending forward, she feathered her lips over his shoulder, his nape. His clean male scent infiltrated her senses, heightening the coiling desire building in her. She nuzzled his shoulder blade, smiling.

  “Tick.” She stroked her fingers down his rib cage, loving the texture and heat of his skin.

  A soft snore grumbled from his throat. Caitlin stilled, the desire dying a swift, hard death. She studied his face, relaxed in lines of deep slumber. With a strangled sigh, she straightened and slipped to his side. On her back, she stared at the ceiling, frustration curling through her. Another quiet snore and she dug her nails into the sheet.

  Damn it.

  Chapter Three

  With her faded Springsteen T-shirt sticking to her torso, Madeline jogged up the back steps. Red clay dust clung to her favorite old running shoes, and she stopped to knock it off before opening the kitchen door.

  Too-dry warmth washed over, thanks to her mother’s tendency to keep the furnace going full blast once the temperature dropped past forty. The rich smells of coffee and fried eggs wrapped around her. Her mother sat at the table, sipping coffee and reading the local newspaper. Madison dropped a kiss on her hair and crossed to pull a bottled water from the fridge.

  “Morning, Mama.” She tilted the container up and let the icy liquid trail down her parched throat.