by Dana Marton
Dead bodies didn’t bother Jamie. He was used to the carnage of battle. But for her... Two violent deaths in the space of days were probably way more than the small town of Pebble Creek was used to seeing. She’d had a pretty tough week.
While he was comfortable with death, he wasn’t comfortable in the role of comforter. Yet something inside him pushed him to be just that, for Bree. He filled his lungs and waded into unfamiliar territory.
“We did what we could. It could have been worse. The bomb didn’t go off. You kept him distracted for a good long time,” he said. He really was impressed with her. “What you did gave the SWAT team a chance to get here.”
Her head dipped in a tentative nod. “I thought for sure you were going to rush him, right at the beginning. I thought for sure we’d be toast if you did.”
“I thought about it. Then I thought maybe I should try your technique of sweet-talking him. You must be rubbing off on me. I hope there’s a cure for that,” he teased, hoping it would lift her spirits a little.
“Wouldn’t exactly call what you did sweet talk,” she said, but gave a tremulous smile.
He reached for her, gratified when she went willingly into his arms. He brushed his lips over hers, relieved beyond words that they were both alive. He had no idea how Mitch Mendoza, his brother-in-law, handled going on joint missions with Megan before she’d taken some time off for the baby. Seeing Bree in danger had been nearly more than Jamie could handle. He would definitely not want to be in a situation like this ever again.
Her fresh, subtle scent, soap mixed with a light perfume, was in his nose, her curves pressed against the hard planes of his body. She was one of those good things he’d given up on at one point in his life. It seemed surreal that here he was, with the woman of his dreams in his arms.
But she was real in every way. And for now, she was with him, lifting her face to his. So he kissed her lightly. Because he really needed to feel her warmth and life and the reality of her being.
Antonio Rivera hadn’t been able to let go.
Jamie rested his forehead against hers. He had let go of some things, but not everything, he thought. What if he could let it all go: the past, the pain, the idea that he was a fighting machine and only that?
She made him want to reexamine his assumptions and the way he lived these days. He didn’t know if he could, if he should. But he wanted to, for the first time ever.
He dipped back for another taste of her lips.
She tasted so sweet, so right. She was infuriating. He’d nearly had a heart attack when she’d run up to the bank’s door to offer herself in exchange for the hostages. Yet, in hindsight, he should have seen it coming. She was no coward. She did whatever she thought had to be done.
She took care of her town; she took care of her sister. He admired her, he realized.
The kiss deepened, yet it still wasn’t nearly enough. What would be enough? Would anything ever be enough where Bree was concerned?
He had no idea, he admitted to himself as he pulled away. He had so much darkness around him. In some ways, his past still bound him. She was all light and smiles. He was a surly bastard. He didn’t want his darkness to touch her. Temporary slip of willpower or not, he simply wasn’t the right guy for her.
He would have told her that, but people were filing in through the door. Some of the SWAT team were coming back to finish their business.
* * *
A BOMB IN a bank, with a fatality added, required enough paperwork to make her head spin. She would have more follow-up work the next day, but she had to set that aside and go get Katie, so Bree powered off her computer and locked up her office.
Jason Tanner was in holding, his parents notified. They retained a lawyer for him. He’d confessed to the photos and the unicorn massacre, but he would not budge on the shooting. Maybe tomorrow, Bree thought. Tomorrow was another day.
The station was buzzing; some of the bank hostages were still there, giving statements, something Lena and Mike were more than capable of handling.
“Tell Katie I said hi,” Lena called over as Bree told them she was leaving for the day.
The events at the bank crowded into her head as she drove, as she went over what she could have done to achieve a better ending to the standoff. She was the one who’d caught Angel Rivera. Angel had made bad choices. So had Antonio, in the end. Could she have done anything differently?
She was deputy sheriff, but she couldn’t say she was happy when someone went to jail or died, even if they were criminals. First and foremost, she was a peace officer. She wanted peace for her people. Which was why she made sure crime prevention was a very real program in the county, not just a political hobbyhorse to be dragged out at sheriff elections.
She looked in the mirror to make sure she looked okay before she picked up Katie. She drew a deep breath and forced a smile on her face. No bringing the job home. The only fast and hard rule she never broke.
She pulled over in front of the big yellow building where her sister worked, and Katie jumped into the car and started talking about her day immediately. Katie lived in the here and now, always. It was an amazing way to live, one that Bree sometimes envied. No worries, no regrets, no self-blame.
“Mrs. Springer brought cupcakes today,” she was saying. “They were chocolate with chocolate frosting. They had chocolate sprinkles.”
Bree pulled into traffic. “You can never have too much chocolate.”
“That’s what she said. Except when you’re a dog, because chocolate kills dogs. Then even a little is too much.”
“Very true.”
“We don’t have a dog.”
“No, we don’t. We have unicorns.”
“Scott said once they had a burglar and their dog chased it away.”
Bree glanced at Katie then back at the road. They’d had some scary vandalism, then a fatal shooting at the house within the space of a week. Just because Katie lived in the now didn’t mean she didn’t have logic. She did, and plenty of it. And maybe logic said that if bad things could happen at their house as they had, they could happen again.
“You know the bad guy we talked about?”
Katie nodded.
“We caught him today. Jamie did, this morning. The bad guy is going to jail. All locked up.”
“And can’t get out.”
“That’s right.”
“Scott was in a car accident once,” Katie said. It was a non sequitur, and they talked about that next.
She saw Jamie’s SUV in front of her house as soon as she turned onto her street. He’d gone into work after they parted at the bank. He only had half a shift, as Mo had to do something with his stepson and they’d traded time.
His seat was tilted back, she saw as she came closer. He seemed to be asleep. Good. He deserved some rest.
Katie got out and went straight to the front door with the keys. She loved locking and unlocking things, and any kind of lock mechanism. She could play with a combination lock for hours when she’d been younger.
She had a whole collection she’d accumulated over the years. Some she’d picked up with their mother on garage-sale outings—their standing Saturday morning mother-daughter date that had since been replaced by hanging out with Sharon. Many other locks since, even antique ones, had been given as gifts by friends—several by Eleanor. Katie could remember the combination to every single one of them.
Bree walked over to Jamie’s car. He had all the windows rolled down, probably to catch a breeze.
His eyes were open by the time she reached him. “Hey.”
Her gaze caught on a bundle of yellow police tape on his backseat. He’d gathered that up from around her property. So Katie wouldn’t have to see it and remember.
Her heart turned over in her chest. “Hey.”
“Thought I’d stop by to make sure everything was okay.”
“Jason’s in jail. Thanks to you. I think we’re done with trouble for a while. Hopefully.”
He nodde
d, looking tired and rumpled with bristles covering his cheeks; he was so incredibly sexy, he took her breath away.
“What are you going to do about that busted living room window?” he wanted to know. “It doesn’t look too safe the way it is.”
She glanced at the empty frame. The contractor who worked with the police station, people who cleaned up crime scenes, had taken away the broken glass when they’d come to clean up the blood inside. She’d recommended them to families of victims many times in the past. They did excellent work. But they didn’t do repairs.
“I called it in. Should be fixed tomorrow. It’s a standard-size window, so at least I didn’t have to do special order.” That would have taken forever.
“How about I hang out on your couch tonight?”
He was asking and not telling her. Definite progress from Jamie Cassidy.
“It’s not exactly a high-crime area. And I’m well-armed. I’m kind of the deputy sheriff.”
The corner of his mouth lifted a little. “For my peace of mind, then.”
Because he cared?
There went that funny feeling around her heart again.
“You’re just here for the triple-winner breakfast,” she joked. “Nobody can resist my salsa egg scramble.”
His lips tilted into an almost smile. “Maybe.” And then he got out, unfolding his long frame, and followed her in.
Katie was already going through her predinner routine.
“Jamie is having dinner with us.” Bree took off her gun harness and hung it in its place, out of reach, although she didn’t have to worry about Katie. Her sister was excellent with remembering and following rules to a T.
“Hi, Katie.”
“Hi, Jamie.” She glanced through the hole in the window at her unicorns, and seemed to have no problem with Jamie being there. She skipped to the kitchen cabinet and grabbed another plate.
Bree went upstairs and changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top, then padded back down to start dinner. Fried chicken steak, an old Texas staple, was one of Katie’s favorites.
“What can I do to help?”
She stopped for a moment to look at him. “When was the last time you slept?” He worked long hours for his team, then he was helping her in between.
“I’m good.”
“I have a well-oiled dinner routine with Katie. How about you lie down on the couch for a minute?”
He raised an eyebrow. “So because I’m a man, you assume I’d be no good in the kitchen and you’re telling me to stay out of the way? Very sexist.”
“Deal with it.” But she was smiling as she shook her head. “You’ll get to do manly things later,” she said, without really thinking about how that sounded until his face livened up.
“Not what I meant.” She tried to backpedal, laughing.
He looked skeptical, one dark eyebrow rising slowly. “What did you mean, exactly?”
“Like chopping wood out back.” Or something like that.
He didn’t look convinced.
So she turned to the stove while he walked off to take a predinner nap.
She didn’t think anyone could sleep through the pots banging and Katie’s chatter, but he did. He must have been truly exhausted. But he rolled right to his feet when she finally finished the gravy and called him to dinner.
She could barely concentrate on the food. She was too distracted by the man at her table. He had a presence that filled up her kitchen. But while he filled Bree with awareness that tingled across her skin, Katie was acting as if he was a member of the family and his eating dinner with them happened every day. For some reason, maybe because of the great unicorn rescue, she had accepted him fully and unconditionally.
“Excellent dinner. I appreciate the invitation,” he said over his plate. And ate like he meant every word.
He probably didn’t get many home-cooked meals, she supposed, liking that he appreciated her cooking.
“He’s making the happy face,” Katie put in.
“Yes, he is.” Bree put a happy face of her own into play.
Her awareness passed after a while, and she began enjoying their dinner together. There was such a warm, homey feeling, such a normalcy to them sharing a meal. Maybe because of his nap, maybe because of the meal, the harsh lines on Jamie’s face relaxed for once and stayed that way.
She liked this. She liked it a lot.
Not smart. She sighed. Heartbreak ahead. Her head sounded the warning.
Too late. She was enough of a realist to know that there was nothing she could do to stop herself from falling for him.
* * *
WHAT THE HELL was he doing here? Jamie thought as he lay on the couch in Bree’s living room in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling.
She didn’t need him. She was a good cop. She could take care of herself. Jason Tanner was in jail. And as she’d said, she lived in a pretty good neighborhood.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d asked to stay for his own piece of mind. Bree mattered. And so did Katie. She was a sweet kid. Quick, too. She’d put together a puzzle of Klimt’s The Kiss before he finished a small corner.
Of course, the painting the puzzle created put kissing into his mind. And Bree. And he hadn’t been able to clear those images out of his head since. His emotions and thoughts were in a jumble. He didn’t like that. He was used to always having a clear battle plan.
Except, this was no battle.
So why was he fighting his own feelings?
He rolled to his feet. He hadn’t taken his prosthetics off. While it was unlikely that anyone would break in, he wanted to be ready if there was trouble.
He walked across the room then stopped, thought some more about what he was doing. He was very likely making a mistake. He walked up the stairs, anyway.
He knocked as quietly as he could, prepared to go back down if there was no answer.
“Come in.”
He pushed the door in slowly, not entirely sure he should.
She sat up in bed, the worn police academy T-shirt she wore as a nightgown covering most of her, except for her amazing legs. He could have stood there staring at her forever.
She swung her feet to the ground as if to stand up, but then she didn’t.
He moved to her without words and sank to his knees in front of her, pulled her closer, her legs on either side of him as he rested his forehead against her collarbone.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said against her T-shirt, breathing in her soapy scent. He liked the way she smelled, the way she felt, the way she fit against him.
Her head lowered, her lips coming to rest in his hair. “Me, neither.”
He looked up into her face, which was illuminated by the moonlight. Time for the naked truth. “I want you.”
For a nerve-racking moment, she didn’t say anything, but then she smiled.
Oh, man. Maybe it would have been better if she sent him away. “I don’t know how it’s going to work.”
Her smile turned into a wicked grin. “A virgin? Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
And he couldn’t help but smile back. She could make him smile like nobody else. It was a miracle. He really had been a grouchy bastard over the past couple of years.
To be honest, he almost did feel like a virgin. She was like no other. He didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want to repulse her.
“Step one would be to lock the door,” she advised him.
And he got up to do that. When he came back to her, he sat next to her on the bed.
“Okay, so the first part is called foreplay.” She shifted onto his lap. “Tell me if I’m going too fast and you don’t understand something. We’ll go back and repeat whatever step you’re having trouble with.”
“You’re a good instructor,” he said as his arms went around her.
“I train rookies at the station all the time.”
He threw her a questioning look.
She smothered a laugh. “Not in this!”
; “I hope not,” he said with a sudden shot of jealousy, as he pulled her head down to his for a kiss.
She was in his arms, her lips pressed against his, her arms wound around his shoulders. His entire body was alive and hardening with desire within seconds.
He deepened the kiss and took what he needed. She didn’t protest. When she dug her fingers into the short hair at his nape, desire rippled down his spine.
He wanted her. She was the only woman he’d wanted in a very long time. This was not something spur of the moment; this was not trivial. The two of them in this room meant something, something he wasn’t sure he was ready for.
But he couldn’t walk away from her.
He shifted them until they were lying side by side on the bed.
Okay, that was smoother, so far, than he’d expected. He was up on one elbow next to her, their lips still connected. He had a free hand. He was a soldier, trained to take advantage of every tactical advantage.
“I don’t know what you’re doing. Here with me. You’re perfect. I’m...” He was going to say messed up, but she cut him off.
“Stubborn?”
“No way.”
“Surly?”
“When warranted.”
Then he forgot what they were talking about as he tugged up her T-shirt and put his hand, fingers stretched out, on her flat stomach. Her skin was warm and smooth and begged to be explored. He moved his fingers upward.
She gave a soft groan and lifted her chest.
He wanted to be inside her so badly it hurt.
His hand cupped her breast; there was no bra, just warm skin and a pebbled nipple that he was ready to taste. He pulled up the soft material and lowered his lips to the tight bud.
Her hands kneaded his shoulders, her head tilted back.
“Take it back. I’m not perfect,” she said in a whisper.
“What?” His mind was in a haze. He lifted his head.
She shifted to look at him. “I’m not perfect.”
“A whole state begs to differ. You were Miss Texas. Don’t you miss the beauty-queen days?”
She looked away.
“What is it?”
“My mom wanted that.” She turned back to him. “She wanted me to be extraperfect, maybe because Katie wasn’t.... I didn’t really like the beauty-pageant thing.”