by C. A. Szarek
Twenty after ten.
“I should go.” Guilt threatened to overtake even before her whisper greeted her ears. She’d never checked in to the hotel. She’d have to pay for the room regardless.
Taylor didn’t want to leave.
If she stayed, she’d have sex with Shannon again. Maybe tell him she was on birth control and that he could ditch the condoms.
She could be with him completely.
Taylor shivered. Dangerous thoughts. She blinked away sudden tears and swiped at her flushed face. Her hair was a tangled mess. Finger-combing did nothing to it, except shoot pain all over her scalp where she pulled. She gave up and covered her face with her hands.
Forced one then another deep breath.
“What’s wrong, Taylor?” Shannon’s low voice was worried, but also an order.
She jolted and swallowed a yelp. Hadn’t heard him come out of the bathroom, let alone cross the room.
He sat beside her but didn’t reach for her.
Should I be crushed or relieved?
“I should go.” The blurt fell from her mouth and she sucked in air then held it.
Shannon flexed his jaw and met her gaze dead-on. “I want you to stay, if I get a vote.” His thigh brushed hers as he settled closer.
Temptation teased and her stomach flipped. Taylor studied his comforter. If she looked at him, she’d kiss him, just like she had earlier.
Strong but gentle hands cupped her jaw and tugged up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “What happened? Why’re you retreating all of a sudden? Don’t shut me out.”
She shook her head.
He didn’t release her. “Stay with me tonight. Relax with me. Let me hold you.” Sincerity and yearning blanketed his expression. “I know you have nowhere to be until Monday.”
Taylor’s heart stuttered. Her mind shouted No, warning her not to fall into that whiskey-colored gaze. To avoid looking at those full lips she already knew so well.
Her heart told her head to go to hell. She couldn’t even muster an emotional shutdown.
Shannon slipped an arm around her, but didn’t pull her to him.
She closed the distance to his chest on her own, sliding her arms around him. Taylor shuddered at the warmth of his body against hers, pretending she didn’t feel so good in his embrace. When she felt his lips on her temple, her half-hearted resistance fell away.
How could he be so tender, but so hot?
“Yes,” Taylor whispered, kissing his pec.
“Yes?” Shannon asked, hooking a fingertip under her chin and tilting up.
“I’ll stay with you tonight.” She couldn’t speak for the rest of the weekend, and she wanted to curse him for knowing she was free until Monday.
His smile made her stomach dip, then dance to her toes.
Shannon claimed her mouth, and Taylor let him, moving in to his kiss and holding on to him with all her might.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Watching her sleep was bittersweet.
Shannon’s chest was tight, and his heart thumped hard. He rubbed the spot, before forcing his hands back into his lap instead of giving in to the urge to touch her.
Thick waves of Taylor’s strawberry-blonde hair were spread out on his pillow. She lay curled on her side, her knees up high under the blankets, as if she was trying to protect herself even in sleep.
She hadn’t been leery of his touch when awake, but now…
Her position made him resist his desire to pull her into his arms. Or tuck her head under his chin and have her arms wrapped around him. He wanted to hold her just as closely. Show Taylor there was reprieve from the evils of the world, from the bad guys they both chased.
When they were together.
Taylor still hadn’t told him why she’d come to him, and he hadn’t pushed her. She’d said she didn’t want to talk about it, had only hinted at a bad day, and Shannon could give her that.
She’d given him so much more. Herself. It’d been better than he could have imagined. The best sex he’d ever had. The second time, she’d told him she was on the pill and he could lose the condom, so he had.
It was probably pussyish of him, but he’d never felt closer to another human being than when he’d been inside her then. His breath had caught, his heart had threatened to beat out of his chest, and Shannon had just stared into those hazel eyes. Until she’d ordered him to move, just like their first time.
He’d known she was a spitfire, but not how much he’d enjoy her bossing him around in bed. It showed the desperation and desire she didn’t—or couldn’t—voice. For him.
Taylor faced him, his comforter up to her chin. Her pale lashes rested on high cheekbones and her breathing was quiet and even, suggesting deep sleep.
She was perfection, even if he felt the few inches that separated them as if they were miles.
He’d chased her. Now that he had her, he wasn’t about to let her go.
Am I being an idiot?
Shannon couldn’t compete with a dead guy, and it wasn’t a secret that Taylor wasn’t over her murdered FBI-agent fiancé.
He’d pursued her knowing that. Assuming that, as they got closer, she’d be able to move on.
Was he wrong?
Maybe.
He could only assume her hesitation tonight had everything to do with how she felt about John Murray, and nothing to do with him. It hadn’t stopped him from kissing her. Touching her. Taking her.
But his head told him to guard his heart. To be smart and not get sucked into those big eyes with their green and gold flecks. Or focus on candid moments when she said things that made his insides mush. His gut told him that Taylor never meant for those kinds of statements to slip out. Her pink cheeks and avoided gazes confirmed it.
His little FBI agent didn’t like to be vulnerable. She was a hard-ass, and he admired her for it. Admired her drive to get the bad guys.
On the downside, was she so mired in work and grief that she’d never open up? Never be able to show the world the real Taylor? A person he could already see. His chest ached when she threw up her façade with him.
Shannon sighed and rammed his hand through his hair.
He was in serious trouble. He wanted Taylor Carrigan for keeps.
The feeling was most definitely not mutual.
How could they even make it work? She lived and worked in Dallas. Her current case could take her out of town, from what she’d told him. Until she caught Carter Bennett, there was no telling how many more times Taylor would have to go away—sometimes for weeks at a time.
That he could deal with. It was work. He had similar responsibilities.
His life was in Antioch. Shannon loved his APD family too much to consider leaving. He was a sergeant now. He’d worked his ass off for the promotion. He loved working with the guys and gals on his shift, and Chief was finally noticing him. Lieutenant in a few years was a real possibility.
Then there was Cailey and his mom. He couldn’t imagine not seeing that kid all the time. Mom wasn’t a young woman anymore. She needed help with his niece. He had to stay close to them. After all, he’d bought his huge house with the intent of them living with him when his mom finally decided to retire.
Damn, he’d never imagined falling for a stuffy FBI agent who would jeopardize his plans, make him doubt his obligations.
Shannon’s heart skipped.
Had he fallen for her?
Was he thinking about Taylor with his heart—not just his cock?
Yes.
Shit.
I love her.
His heart did a Texas Two Step against his ribs, then took a dive for his stomach. He’d fallen in love with a woman not many from his police department even liked. Not that he gave a shit about that.
But his guard-your-heart plan had given him the finger.
I’m so screwed.
No matter how hot she was in bed, no matter how she kissed him back, Taylor hadn’t had sex with him thinking relationship, let alone long-term.
<
br /> He was going to have a hell of a time convincing her otherwise, but he wasn’t naïve to the fact it was his heart in the line of fire. She’d shred it without so much as a glance over her shoulder if that was what his little FBI agent thought she had to do to protect herself.
Sure, he’d survive it. Could he let her walk away?
“Hell no.” At least not without giving them a real shot.
Taylor stirred, sucking in air and stretching. She arched her back, pushing her bare breasts past the barrier of his dark brown comforter.
His cock shifted.
She blinked as she came around, rolling to her back and looking around as she oriented.
He cursed. Hadn’t meant to wake her. Shannon stilled, tensing in case she freaked out when she remembered where she was. What she’d done with him. The last thing he needed was a gun drawn on him when his wasn’t close. The thought made him smirk.
“Shannon,” Taylor whispered when her eyes rested on him.
“Yeah, sweets? I’m right here.”
“So far away.”
His stomach fluttered and he ordered himself not to get mired down by that soft smile and wistful tone. “I can fix that.” He drew her sleep-warmed body to him, shivering at the rightness of holding her. Shannon settled back down, hyperaware of every inch of her naked form against his. He couldn’t tell her a damn word of what was swirling around in his head.
Taylor snuggled close. Her breath tickled his neck as she sighed.
“I’m glad you stayed.” He kissed the crown of her head, then rested his cheek on her soft hair.
“Me too.” Her voice was muffled against him.
He rubbed her back, reveling in the feel of her supple skin under his fingertips. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“You.” The word came out breathy.
Shannon chuckled. “Yeah?”
Taylor lifted her head and met his eyes. Her mouth rippled as if she swallowed a yawn. “Yeah. Just you.”
A whole day in bed with her? Sign me up for that! How about Saturday and Sunday, too? If it wouldn’t have dislodged her from his hold, he might’ve fist-pumped. “Pretty sure that could be arranged.”
She smirked, then nestled back into his chest.
He kissed her head again and smiled. Shannon couldn’t tell her how he felt about her, but he could damn sure use the weekend to show her.
* * * *
Something’s wrong.
Carter had been watching the apartment building for a week now. The problem was, he hadn’t seen Rowdy since that first night with the kid.
Other than the huge bag of money, there was no sign of the bastard inside the apartment, either. No male clothing, no male shoes, no signs. No brown F-150 in the lot, or the parking garage, either.
He’d rushed into the massive structure behind a resident who’d opened things with their keycard late one night before the arm had had a chance to come down. Carter had driven all the levels. He’d seen Camille Bonner’s silver Altima in its assigned spot, which corresponded with her apartment number.
Damn, he’d have to go inside the place again.
Change his plans?
The day he’d done his recon, his fingers had itched to take that black bag and count the contents, but he’d left it alone because he hadn’t been ready for anyone to know he’d been there. Missing money would’ve been a sure sign to his old buddy someone had poked around, even if Rowdy or the woman couldn’t put it together who had sticky fingers.
But now…
Where the hell are you, Rowdy Vargas?
Carter hated to think his observation efforts these days had been a waste. But he wasn’t ready for something drastic, like a snatch and grab. Sure, he wanted that money and he’d get it, but he still needed Rowdy to die, too.
And how much cash was in that bag?
If nothing else, he needed to get back inside the apartment to count it. Rowdy had always been a hoarder when it came to money from their numerous jobs. When everyone else burned through their cuts partying, Rowdy always had some left, saved, hidden under his bed. He’d joked more than once that someone had to make sure they didn’t starve.
Plus, the bastard had scored at least one of their former crewmates’ dough when he’d escaped the LA house-turned-murder-house when Carter had gone postal on the traitors.
It had to be a lot of money.
And it was going to be his.
His cell phone dinged and he glanced at the screen. Only two people had the number of this current burner—Kai and Bubba.
It wasn’t his friend in LA.
He curled his lip when he checked the message.
Meeting at the warehouse.
Carter’s first instinct went something like, Fuck off. I’m busy. But he hadn’t told anyone—least of all the asshole crew leader—about his new Phoenix mission. He sucked in a calming breath and fired back a message asking when he needed to show up. Short and sweet, no smiley emoticon or some shit. He refused to kiss Kai’s ass.
The response was quick.
Eight.
Well, at least the dickhead wasn’t chatty. He didn’t bother answering. Kai knew he’d show. Even if he didn’t like what side his bread was currently buttered on…
Well, it’s just for now.
He glanced at the time on his burner phone. It was only a few minutes after six. Good, he had almost two hours to get his shit done here, except that was limited, too.
The woman and kid weren’t back home just yet, but the times she arrived varied.
Carter definitely needed to watch her more before he could make a significant move.
His second sweep of the apartment was as fast and stealthy as the first. The woman must be a neat freak, because nothing was out of place from when he’d been there before.
He looked in all the rooms again, even though there wasn’t a real need. His steps were hurried when he went to the third bedroom. Like before, he made sure the money was still there. It was.
Carter whirled around and checked the closet, again confirming there was no sign of Rowdy. He pulled drawers out in the dresser—they were empty, as if ready for the next guest.
Hunkering down, he cursed when his leg gave a protest of the crouch and sent a jolt of agony up his thigh, skirting over his hip and making his spine burn. When he stood, his foot would likely quit on him and dump him on his ass.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
He could smell the money even before he tugged the duffel closer. The zipper was loud, like last time, but beckoned him. Unlike last time, Carter had remembered latex gloves—go him.
Doing a complete count was probably too time-consuming to risk.
He shook his head and shot off a few more mental curse words. Carter’s gut shouted that the bastard wasn’t around. Not staying in the apartment anyway.
Probably not in Phoenix anymore.
Why? No way he knew I found him.
Carter had been careful. No one could’ve seen him watching the apartment building. Rowdy sure as hell hadn’t.
Dammit. Had his old buddy slipped away from him again?
But if the guy was gone, why was there a bag full of money here? Why would Rowdy leave that kind of stash behind? For safe keeping?
It could mean he’d be back. Right?
The sight of the bills distracted him from his tirade. It was mostly Benjamins, but there was a good mix of fifties, too. He made stacks and counted until he passed around forty grand, and the bag was still mostly full. It was deeper than it looked on the outside—no wonder it was heavy as fuck.
He glanced at the time on his phone. Carter had been in the apartment for over ten minutes.
“Time to go.” He dumped the money back in the bag and tugged on the two zippers until it was closed. When he pushed it back under the bed, he made sure it was in the same position he’d found it.
One of his questions was answered. It was definitely enough to steal.
Was it enough to forgo the train hit, or
did he need to be a greedy bastard?
Carter frowned. He should be smart—take Rowdy’s stash and take off. Disappear. But then he couldn’t kill the bastard. Not if he had to track him all over again.
Wait… It wouldn’t be hard this time.
He went back to the kitchen to check the stack of mail in the sorter. Different envelopes from what’d been there before, but still no clues as to Rowdy’s whereabouts.
Carter stared at the refrigerator and that dry-erase board. Nothing had changed.
The phone number was the same.
He smiled. Slowly.
If Rowdy really was gone from Phoenix, there was only one way to get him to come back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Her foot slipped out from under her, and she squealed before she could even think, Oh shit.
But something interrupted her doomed fall to the tile bathroom floor—a strong arm snaked around her naked waist.
“Easy there.” His voice was breathless above the shell of her ear, but the tension in his solid forearm betrayed that.
Shannon had caught her.
Thank God.
Taylor couldn’t find her voice. More accurately, she was afraid she’d squeak again. She sucked in air and let her body relax into his. His chest hair teased her shoulder blades, and a quiver danced over her. Her lower belly warmed and her core answered with a begging throb.
His muscular thighs cradled her ass, the springy hair there tickling her skin, too. He didn’t have an erection, but a wiggle or two could fix that.
“Are you okay?” Shannon jolted her from the desire clogging her brain.
She nodded. Still couldn’t talk.
“Are you sure?”
Taylor turned in his arms, sliding hers around his neck. Her heart still hadn’t calmed—from the near fall, as well as arousal—so she rested her forehead against his right pec.
Baker had grounded her again—for the second weekend in a row—but this time he’d let her work all day Friday. She hadn’t argued when he’d called her in to break the news late yesterday, which had shocked them both.