Slow Burn

by Cheyenne McCray

  Christie smiled and brushed a tear from her face. It was a tear reflecting her happiness for her friends.

  The tear that followed was for what Salvatore had done to her and what he was trying to do. The second tear she scrubbed away, angry with herself for allowing thoughts of that bastard into her head.

  She continued to watch the video, a smile returning to her lips as Dylan took the baby from Belle and cradled him. The phone camera stayed on Dylan, who wore the biggest proud papa grin she’d ever seen.

  Both Dylan and Belle had been two of Christie’s best friends since elementary school. The pair had dated in high school and had been deeply in love before Belle disappeared, having run away from home and a horrid situation.

  All these years later, and Dylan and Belle were finally back together…and now they were a family of three.

  When the video was over, Christie looked up to see Trace watching her. He had one shoulder hitched up against a wall, his thumbs hooked in his pockets.

  Every other thought in her mind fled as she imagined touching all that muscle his overshirt didn’t completely hide. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his shirt was just snug enough to show his powerful biceps. Where his overshirt fell open, a snug blue T-shirt was visible that hugged an incredible chest. His Wranglers were an oh-my-God perfect fit on him.

  She wanted to run her thumb over the cleft in his chin and touch his lips with her fingertips. His stubble would feel rough beneath her palms as she moved them over his angular jaw. His eyes were such a smoky gray, but they seemed to darken as she took him in.

  Her throat worked as he held her gaze. She should probably be embarrassed for so blatantly looking him over, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t sure why it didn’t bother her.

  She realized he’d just done the same thing to her. Instead of feeling shy, she enjoyed it. She felt somehow stronger, a woman who was being appreciated by a good man. At least if she was reading him right, he liked what he saw.

  “How are you doing?” He broke the silence in his slow, easy drawl.

  She’d noticed it was slow when he was being conversational. But in a tough situation, he was hard and vocal, shouting out orders to people as needed. When he’d helped Dylan take down Salvatore, Trace made it clear to Salvatore’s men that he wasn’t messing around. Trace intended to shoot to kill. Christie knew that Salvatore was lucky to be alive.

  “I’m much better.” She looked down at her arm that was bandaged and in the sling. “I shouldn’t have to wear this for long. Dr. Tenor doesn’t want me to overdo it.”

  “I’ll make sure you behave.” Trace gave an easy smile.

  It was a lady killer smile that made her sigh. Oh, she wouldn’t mind at all if he made her behave. She imagined herself being naughty just so he’d make her be a good girl.

  This time she did feel a little heat in her face at the direction of her thoughts. She pushed that away. She didn’t have to feel embarrassed. She was a different person now. She was strong and independent.

  She hoped it wouldn’t be much longer before she’d have a sexual relationship with a man that might wipe out her memories of Salvatore. Especially what he’d done to her at the last. She didn’t want to sleep around, but she was a red-blooded American woman, and she deserved to enjoy life to its fullest.

  Dang, but Trace was hot. She wouldn’t mind at all if she ended up in his bed.

  “Promise you’ll make me behave?” she said before she could stop herself.

  He grinned. “You’d better believe it.”

  She couldn’t help but grin back. He had such an easy-going way about him when he was in Super Agent mode. She imagined his muscled body in tights with a cape, and a laugh escaped her.

  With an amused expression, Trace sat next to her on the bed. His body brushed hers and she felt an incredible heat between them that made warmth flow through her body.

  He gestured to her phone. “Mind if I see the video again?”

  She handed it to him as she smiled. “I love seeing how happy they are and seeing that precious baby.”

  Trace started the video and she watched his face. He smiled as he watched it. When he finished he handed her the phone. “Dylan is lucky to have gotten Belle back, and now have a growing family. Shane is a beautiful baby.”

  Christie saw the fondness in Trace’s expression for Dylan and Belle, and a softness within him for the baby. She also saw something more. Like he desired a family of his own.

  The thought of Trace as a daddy sent more warmth through her. She could just see him holding a son or daughter.

  After a moment of silence, Trace put his hand over hers. She felt like she was suddenly on fire from the contact.

  “The Feds want to take you straight to Phoenix.” Trace’s voice was a little lower now, as if not wanting to be overheard. “I know you’ve been asking for an alternative to being surrounded by agents and still remain safe. I have a remote cabin up on Mt. Lemmon that I can take you to. Only Dylan and Brooks know about it and it’ll be secure. It’s not easy to find or get to, and it’s where I like to escape when I need to get away.” He moved his hand from hers and rested his forearms on his thighs. “You would have to put up with me, though.”

  “Stay in a cabin with you?” She looked at him, surprised. “Alone?”

  “It would only be a couple of days since the trial is coming up soon.” His smile was just too damned sexy. “I promise to be a good boy.”

  But I might not be a good girl.

  “I’m not worried about that.” She returned his smile. No, you should be the one who’s worried—about me.

  Jeez. Where are these thoughts coming from?

  She knew perfectly well where they were coming from. She had the hots for this man, and spending some time alone with him sounded like just what the doctor ordered.

  “I’d like that.” She nodded. “I feel suffocated with all of the agents hanging around. I know they’re doing their jobs and you all saved my life…but it’s hard. I was under Salvatore’s thumb for so long that I just need some freedom.”

  “When this is over, you’ll have all the freedom you want.” His gaze held hers. “We just need to keep you safe long enough for that to happen.”

  She knew he was thinking alive long enough…she could end up dead if she wasn’t careful, and if she didn’t let someone help her.

  “It’s a good compromise.” She felt a twinge in her arm. The pain meds were wearing off. “Will Agent Stillwater give you grief?”

  Trace shifted in his chair. “I imagine she will. But ultimately, the choice is up to you.”

  Christie felt a little lighter than she had over the past couple of days. “I’ll take a cabin in the woods over being surrounded by agents in a stuffy hotel room any day.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I had a feeling you’d like the cabin option.”

  A light knock came at the door and it was pushed open by Dr. Tenor. He came into the room, carrying the thin laptop he used to take notes.

  Trace got up and moved to a chair near the bed so the doctor could talk with Christie.

  Dr. Tenor walked toward her and stopped a couple of feet from her. “How are you feeling, Christie?”

  “Much better.” She looked at her arm. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

  The doctor asked her a few more questions and examined her arm. She bit back a small cry from the pain, but the doctor noticed her wince.

  “I’ll have the nurse give you more pain meds before you leave.” He made a couple of notes on his small laptop. “I’m also writing a prescription for something to help ease the discomfort.”

  She thanked him after he finished and he told her the nurses would be in shortly to have her sign her release papers.

  When the doctor was gone, she met Trace’s gaze. “Do we have to do more of that super agent stuff to get me to your vehicle?”

  He nodded. “The FBI has agents all over the area outside the hospital, making sure it’s clear of anyone who would d
o you harm. But you never know if something has been missed.”

  “Okay.” She let out a sigh. “I suppose you’ll do all of those procedures like in movies and books where you make sure you’re not tailed and we get to our destination free and clear of bad guys.”

  “You’ve got it.” He grinned. “We’ll take a tour of Tucson until we’re sure we don’t have anyone following us. And then a little more just to make doubly sure.” His grin faded as his look turned more serious. “I doubt it would occur to them that we could go to Mt. Lemmon, much less stay in Tucson. They’ll probably expect us to go to Phoenix.”

  None of it seemed real, despite the throbbing in her arm and the man sitting here telling her that he would take care of her and keep her from getting killed.

  Christie looked away from Trace when there was another knock on the doorframe. Agent Stillwater stood in the doorway.

  “Dr. Tenor said Christie is ready to be released.” The agent smiled at Christie, but it seemed forced. “We’ll get you on the road to Phoenix and tucked away with plenty of protection where Salvatore’s men won’t be able to do you any harm.”

  “I need to discuss that with you.” Trace drew the FBI agent’s attention. “Christie doesn’t want to go into full protective custody. I have an alternative.”

  “This isn’t up for negotiation, Agent Davidson.” Stillwater’s voice was hard.

  “No, it’s not.” Christie got to her feet, drawing Stillwater’s attention. “I’m going with Trace.”

  Stillwater narrowed her brows and looked at Trace. “What’s going on here?”

  Trace explained about his remote cabin on Mt. Lemmon. “It’s safe, and Salvatore’s men won’t have any idea where she’s at.”

  “I don’t like it.” Stillwater looked from Trace to Christie. “This puts your life at greater risk.”

  Christie stood straighter. “Agent Davidson has made it clear that it’s a safe alternative to being under the FBI’s thumb.”

  “I’ll send a couple of my best with you.” Stillwater looked angry enough to tear into Trace and slice him with her words.

  Christie shook her head. “No. Just Agent Davidson.”

  Stillwater looked like she was going to say something else about the arrangement Christie wanted, but switched gears. “We’ll need to coordinate this and make sure you’re not tailed until we can get you off on your own. Safely.” Stillwater headed for the door but stopped and turned back to Christie. “I hope you’re not making a mistake.” She turned away again and left the room.

  Trace stepped closer to Christie and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

  He was much taller than her and she tilted her head to look up at him. She zeroed in on his lips. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. An array of expressions traveled over his face, like he was having second thoughts, because he could probably see in her eyes how much she wanted him.

  Feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed, she looked away. Maybe he didn’t feel anything remotely the same for her.

  She liked the feel of his fingers as he touched her chin, raising her face. “I have food, if you don’t mind canned chili and dried fruit. I even have a bottle of wine or two up there.”

  With a grin, she said, “Sounds like a gourmet meal compared to hospital food.”

  It felt like it took forever to get released from the hospital. While she waited, Trace made a Wal-Mart run and took her prescriptions with him.

  She knew he’d been teasing about only eating chili and dried fruit. He picked up a few things, including warm clothing for her, as well as some groceries and an ice chest.

  When the staff finally did let her go, the nurse made Christie sit in a wheelchair until they reached the entrance of the hospital.

  Before they went out, Trace pulled a ball cap out of his back pocket. “Hold on.”

  He put the cap on her head and tucked her hair beneath it, trying to hide all the strands. She’d always been told her red hair was distinctive, so it made sense to cover it.

  A wall of agents surrounded her as she was helped out of the wheelchair, through the doors, and into Trace’s SUV.

  Once she was buckled in, Trace said, “I did get your prescriptions for pain meds filled in case you need them.” He gestured to a bottle of water sitting in the cup holder. “Water for you, and I put your Percocet and the prescription ibuprofen in the glove compartment. You can throw them in your purse.”

  “If I don’t have to, I don’t like taking anything too strong, especially something as strong as Percocet.” She grimaced. “I had that after I had my wisdom teeth removed and it made me feel loopy. The ibuprofen I’ll take for now.”

  “Need any help opening the bottle?” he asked as she reached for the compartment in front of her.

  She shook her head. “I’ve got it, no problem.”

  “You’re a little stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked with a grin.

  She shrugged. “I have my moments.”

  He put his hands on the wheel. “If you’re set, we’ll head for my place on Mt. Lemmon.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled. “Let’s go.”

  He pulled the SUV away from the curb and followed one of the black FBI SUVs. “I have Tylenol and aspirin in the compartment, too.” He entered the street, still behind the black SUV.

  “Thanks.” It was awkward with one arm in a sling, and it did make her arm ache, but she found the bottle of ibuprofen. She opened it and retrieved one of the huge tablets before putting the bottle of ibuprofen and the pain med into her purse. The water helped the big pill go down, but it still felt huge as she swallowed it. She looked over her shoulder to see another black SUV following them.

  It was just like in movies and books, but far more boring as they drove around Tucson on the freeways and surface streets. Eventually their escort SUVs left Trace and Christie, retreating and going to a hotel that was close to Mt. Lemmon.

  After Trace had driven around even longer, and was absolutely certain no one could have followed them, he drove up the winding mountain road of Mt. Lemmon.

  The road went up and up and up. It got chillier, and Trace had to turn on the heat. Tucson had been mild but she was glad that in addition to her suitcase, Trace had made sure there was warm clothing for both of them. After asking if she had a jacket, he had grabbed hers out of her luggage. It was the one she’d worn from her home to the airport in Indianapolis. He had a jacket for himself in the SUV as well.

  While Trace drove, they talked about Belle and Dylan, and their baby. Trace had taken Christie’s phone at the hospital, insisting it had to stay off while Salvatore’s men were looking for her, so she was disappointed that she couldn’t watch the video again.

  It took some time to get to his place. Her arm ached as they traveled, but the prescription ibuprofen helped.

  She was grateful that Trace kept the conversation light. Between everyone involved, including Agent Stillwater—especially Stillwater—Christie was tired of going over and over everything that had happened at the airport and how much danger she was in.

  Okay, she got it, she shouldn’t have flown back on her own, if at all, until it was time, and she was safely in the hands of the FBI. She glanced at Trace as he drove. Except that she wouldn’t be with him now if everything hadn’t gone down the way it had.

  Was being shot worth it? She mentally shook her head. God, she must be tired to be thinking this way.

  Still she drank him in, watching him while he kept his eyes focused on the winding road. She wanted to trace his jaw down to the cleft in his chin. She wanted to kiss his lips, and wondered how soft they would be against hers. What would it be like to snuggle with his big arms wrapped around her?

  He asked her easy questions, such as what were her favorite kinds of movies. She didn’t watch chick flicks or romantic anything anymore because she no longer believed in happily-ever-afters. She didn’t say why, but it was because of Salvatore and her marriage to him.


  Trace, too, wasn’t crazy about chick flicks or romances. He did appreciate comedies, including Jim Carrey’s and David Spade’s brand of what Christie deemed “guy humor.” Trace enjoyed drama and thrillers, but thanks to all that was happening, like getting shot, Christie had lost her taste for them, at least for the time being.

  Neither one of them liked horror movies. They both were into fantasy, like the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, and sword and sandals movies, of which Gladiator was number one on their lists. They shared a wicked delight in TV shows such as The Walking Dead and Dexter. Trace almost looked sheepish when he admitted that he liked to watch American Idol, and she laughed as she said she did, too.

  By the time Trace told her they were near their destination, she was much more relaxed. Any tension that might have existed between them was gone.

  Except for sexual tension. She didn’t know if it was all one-sided, her side, but sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her feel beautiful. It was as if he appreciated everything about her. She didn’t know if she was imagining it, or putting meaning where there was none, but whatever it was…she liked it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Trace eventually veered off of the main road onto a dirt road that could barely be seen. Christie wouldn’t have noticed it if she’d been driving.

  The SUV bounced over rocks and potholes, the terrain growing rougher as they traveled. Patches of snow lined the road, and it was starting to get dark.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said this place was isolated.” She gritted her teeth as they were jostled in the vehicle and her arm ached.

  “You should feel safe here.” He glanced at her. “Maybe you should take the Percocet. You look like you could use it.”

  She shrugged. “Once we get to the cabin.” As she spoke, the road opened up into a small clearing with a log cabin at the back of it.

  He guided the SUV closer to the cabin. “Home sweet home for a few days.”