“You’re family. You and Elise,” he said.
“So Brendan asked for your help,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. It was stupid to think he’d come because he still cared for me. He was here because his brother was marrying my closest friend, so we were practically going to be related.
“No. Brendan told us about it, and I started ordering my brothers around. I think we’re clear on what’s going on, so you should be, too. We’re going to beef up security around the agency storefront and here on the property to start with.”
“Thank you. I have a credit card. There’s not a lot of room left on it, but I’ll pay for what I can and pay you guys back for the rest.”
“Doesn’t work like that,” he said, “we’ve got this. The agency is part of the LLC and this is where we live. We look out for our own.”
“But I’m not your own, Mick,” I said softly. “I know Elise is marrying into the family. But I’m just —"
“You’re my own, Karin,” he said, “whether you think so or not. Tonight’s not the time to argue that.”
Right on cue, thunder struck again, and I jerked, startled.
“Come here, dammit,” he said, and hooked an arm around my shoulders.
He dragged me against him. I leaned my head on his shoulder in the shelter of his arm. Mickey didn’t pull me to his chest and put both arms around me or anything. It was a side hug, friendly more than anything, reassuring. I didn’t wrap my arms around his neck or lift my face to be kissed. I just held on to his shirt with one hand like I’d drown if I ever let go. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and let him hold me. After a while, I started to relax. I felt him rub his chin across my hair and maybe he kissed me on top of my head. I felt his warm breath, felt the rise and fall of his muscled chest beneath my ear.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said a little lamely as I tried to pull away and sit back.
“Bullshit,” he said amiably. “I’m not leaving.”
“My own personal bodyguard,” I said with a half-smile.
He held me again, tucked in against his side, and I’d never felt so safe or so treasured in my life. For once, I didn’t analyze it and didn’t pull away. I indulged. I snuggled in and let him hold me. It could have been two minutes or an hour. I let my eyes drift shut as my body loosened and melted into him.
I felt Mickey shift slightly against me. I jolted awake, my face on his chest, my arm flung across his abs. I scrubbed at my eyes and sat back.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said gruffly, “it’s good you could get some rest. It’s late.”
“Thanks for checking on me and babysitting me. I’ll be fine,” I said more certainly than I felt.
“You think I’m leaving?” he asked. “I’m not leaving you here alone. Besides, you need help putting that new bed together.”
“I’ll get to it,” I said vaguely.
“I’m good with my hands,” he offered.
“I remember,” I said and then my face reddened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked intently at me.
“I’m just going to go to bed. If you’re really going to stay, I’ll make up the couch for you,” I offered.
What did I want him to say? Did I want him to say, ‘I’m sleeping with you where I can keep a close eye on you’? Did I want him to say, ‘we’re both adults here, we can sleep in the same bed’? I did. I wanted that. I wanted him to take the decision out of my hands and be protective like always but also be possessive, like I was his. Like by accepting his help, I had to take him back into my bed. I would have said yes. I would not have hesitated. It was what I wanted. I just didn’t want responsibility for the choice. I felt scared and overwhelmed and so damn alone, and then he showed up. I was grateful and a little craven after waking up with my hand on those abs and breathing in the Irish Spring soap smell of his skin. I blinked at him.
All he did was lift one shoulder in a shrug. I got up and came back with a pillow—his pillow, I thought, the one he’d slept on when he spent the night here, the night he welcomed me home. Part of me wanted to give him my pillow so it would smell like him when he was gone. God, I was hopeless. I tossed him the pillow and a blanket.
“Nah,” he said, “I don’t get cold.”
I nodded. I remembered that too. The heat that radiated off his body, how hot his skin always was. It made my mouth water. I hugged the blanket to me.
“Thank you, Mickey,” I said, “You don’t have to do this, but it’s nice that you did. Especially after—"
“Don’t,” he stopped me, “what else would I do with you in danger?”
I felt that. I took it hard. He thought his place was with me if I needed him. There was no question, no condition to that loyalty. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to sleep with him in the next room, but I’d damn sure feel safer. I also felt a height about two inches because a man of this caliber, with this kind of devotion, deserved better than how I’d treated him.
In a rush, I went up to him. I bent down to where he was on the couch and kissed his cheek right back near his jaw. His stubble felt good on my lips, but I drew back. I squeezed his forearm, “Thank you,” I said again.
He caught my arm and met my eyes. He shook his head, “You don’t need to thank me, Kar.”
I shut my eyes. God, this hurt. I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to beg him to come back, but I couldn’t. Partly because nothing had changed—he was a weakness that could take me down. The other reason was that he’d know I was driven into his arms by fear, at least in part. That I, the independent woman who ran scared at the first sign of emotion, wanted a big, strong man to take care of me. He still held my arm. If I brushed my lips to his, I knew where it would lead. On my back, on my new mattress, with Mick above me. The weight and strength of his body pressing me down, taking my breath, kissing me, and making me feel like I belonged with him, like nothing bad could ever happen to me as long as I was in his arms.
I wasn’t going to use him like that to make myself feel better. He was too good of a man, and I knew damn well that being with him in any way was a surefire road to heartbreak for me. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to withstand walking away from him again, and if there was even the smallest chance I’d hurt him, I wasn’t going to risk it. I’d rather lie awake alone than hurt Mickey O’Shea any more than I already had.
Chapter 17
Mickey
The couch was too small for me. I couldn’t stretch out. I’d wanted to be in her bed, but she hadn’t invited me. I knew how to get by on very little sleep, how to keep watch and listen for the slightest sound. I had guarded her so she could sleep, but she didn’t really. I could see the light from her phone screen late in the night. I heard every time she flipped over her pillow or shifted in bed trying to get comfortable. If she’d let me in, if she’d let me hold her, I knew she would’ve slept.
Almost nothing in my life had ever felt as good as when Karin fell asleep on my chest. I had been surprised she even let me hold her on the couch, but she must’ve been pretty scared. And she had a fistful of my shirt part of the time like she wasn’t about to let me go. Funny thing was, I didn’t want her to let me go. I wasn’t much on sitting still, but I probably could’ve stayed like that on her uncomfortable small couch with my arm around her for hours.
It had been pretty obvious when she kissed my cheek that if I had wanted to push her for more she would have let me. She would have welcomed the comfort. I could have taken her to bed. I’d never take advantage of her, never treat her like she owed me something for staying here and protecting her. I’d protect her even if she never spoke to me again. This was how strongly I felt about her. I wasn’t the kind of man who used women, who would take her fear and loneliness for an excuse to seduce her. So I had lain awake, knowing she was as well and refused to go to her.
If she had come to me, I would have been a g
entleman and offered to hold her. I would not have had sex with her. No matter how agonizing being honorable was. She’d stayed in her room. I’d stayed on the couch.
When she got up, I was doing pushups on the floor. She leaned against the doorway and watched me. I felt her eyes on me, the way her gaze licked up my spine and spanned my shoulders with approval. I felt my skin heat under her eyes. I did a few one-armed pushups just to show off.
“You should do a calendar. Speaking strictly as a photographer who works for your new ad agent. It would sell from your website, drive business to the dive excursions, and your bookings would go through the roof. I could shoot fitness pics, maybe on the beach,” she said.
“Strictly business,” I said, arching an eyebrow as I stretched.
“Absolutely. It would sell. I’m fairly sure that if I took a picture of what you were doing just now and tweeted it, you would be a viral sensation before lunchtime.”
“So you’re saying that selling a shirtless ex-SEAL workout calendar would bring in lots of traffic to the website,” I said.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she said, practically licking her lips. It amused me to see her like this, unable to hide her attraction. It was bittersweet of course, since I knew we wouldn’t act on it.
“Can you be ready to go to the police station in half an hour?” I asked.
“I’ll get ready and go. I know you have to work,” she faltered.
“No, I cancelled everything for today. Before I even got here last night,” I said, “family emergency.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” her face flushed uncomfortably, “It really isn’t family, and you don’t have to babysit me.”
She went past me into the bathroom. I heard the shower running and tried not to think of her there. She had slipped into my shower several times when she stayed over at my cabin before she went back to New York. I’d hear the door open and close softly, the rustle of the shower curtain, but I’d pretend I hadn’t heard it so she could sneak up on me. I’d feel her hand, small and cool on my back. I’d turn around swiftly and capture her, part her lips beneath mine, splattering water on her face from my dripping hair, painting wetness on her skin with my hands. I had loved morning showers with her. There was something fresh and tender about those early morning hours, something I’d never forget.
I found my shoes under the couch and put them on. I took the pillow back into her bedroom and set it on top of hers on the new mattress. It was narrow and covered in plastic still, with a yellow comforter thrown over it. I shook my head and pushed the pillows off of it. I wasn’t going to have her sleeping on plastic. I’d slept on enough tarps to know it was damn uncomfortable and noisy every time you tried to move. I folded the comforter and stacked the pillows on top of it. Then I grabbed the plastic sheeting up at the top of the mattress and ripped it down the middle. It gave way in a slow slide, parting in two under my hands. I heard her gasp from the door as I did it. I peeled back the halves of the plastic to reveal the bare mattress.
“I thought if we’re not going to put your bed together till later, at least the mattress could… air out or something.”
She nodded and said nothing, so I left her alone to get dressed. Once she was ready, I held the door open for her.
I followed her out to my car and drove her to the station. She was tense and silent, picking at her nails like she was nervous. I reached over and took her hand and held it.
“You don’t have to—" she started to say.
Knowing she was about to say something about babysitting her or missing work or generally protesting that she was an inconvenience, I just cut her a look. She let me hold her hand and squeezed mine in return.
“Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me,” I said, leading her to the door.
Karin stopped short and looked at me. Her eyes were big, and her brow was crinkled with worry.
“I don’t think I want to do this.”
“Doesn’t matter. We have to.”
“We.”
“Yeah, we,” I said, pulling her to me by the hand and looping my arm around her, “I got you.”
She took a long, ragged breath and nodded.
“Not gonna bolt on me if I let go of your hand, are you?” I teased.
“Better not take the chance,” she said, “hang on to me.”
I knew by the quaver in her voice she wasn’t as lighthearted as she tried to sound, but I appreciated the effort anyway. I ushered her in, and we talked to the sergeant at the desk. She gave us a clipboard and a pen. Karin started filling the report out, turned to me, looking puzzled.
“What’s our address? God, listen to me. I’m a basket case,” she said.
I reached over, took the pen, and wrote in the mailing address for the resort. Then I handed it back to her.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, not looking up as she scrawled on the paperwork.
“Because I’m just such a goddamn nice guy, Karin, don’t you know that about me? I’m sure the night we met you thought, now there’s a nice guy,” I said, trying to make her laugh.
“I remember taking one look at you and thinking, ‘damn I’d like to climb that like a tree.’”
“If I recall, you did.”
“I did,” she said with a half-smile.
“Not as much as I wished you had,” I said under my breath.
“I had to play hard to get for five minutes. A girl has her pride,” she scoffed.
I just shook my head and gave her a small smile.
“I wish I’d just stayed with you the first night,” she breathed. I felt my hair stand on end at the suggestion. I shut my eyes for a second because it hit me like a blade. We had wasted nearly forty-eight hours of our time together.
“If I’d known we were going to break up, I wouldn’t have even let you sleep,” I confessed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a little thick, “I can’t do this. I have to do some serious adulting right now, and police stations scare the hell out of me. So I can’t talk about, you know, what went wrong or what if.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking she was probably right. That kind of talk and that kind of thinking had no place in the dingy waiting area of the city police station.
I went to the counter and asked if we could speak to Captain Herrera directly. Sebastian Herrera and his wife and gone on a couple of dive excursions and I knew him from the pub. He was a good guy, and I trusted him. Within minutes we were ushered into his office.
“I was taking exterior photos outside a local seafood place for work yesterday, and there were a couple of guys lurking around staring. I got out of there quickly, but when I looked at the photos at my studio, I saw them in the background of some shots doing what looked like a transaction—money changing hands, visibly. I was by myself at the office going over proofs and one of them tried to get in the front. The place was locked, and he didn’t try to break in, but it scared me. I showed my friend Elise’s fiancé Brendan the pictures and he and his brothers thought I should bring them to you,” Karin said.
Herrera nodded.
“Let’s see what we have here,” he said.
I passed him my phone so he could see the photos, and he gave a low whistle.
“Well, we’ve been trying to collar Dominguez for the better part of ten years. This isn’t enough to put him away, but if we question the man with him in the photos and convince him to flip, there is a good chance we can build a solid case against him. You’ve done a good deed, young lady,” he said.
“I wasn’t trying to,” she said. “I didn’t want trouble.”
“I know you didn’t. Nobody wants to tangle with that crew, believe me. But since you stumbled into the middle of it, you’ve done the department a service by providing us with the evidence. When you’ve signed your statement out front, you’re free to go. Make sure we have your contact information. Mickey, could you stick around for a minute while she takes care of those details?”
Once she was out of the office, he leveled me a stern look.
“Now, Mick, you and I both know the Dominguez crew is aware of what she has in her possession and they know she’s been here. I captured the images from your phone, and they’re in the police database now. They don’t have a way to eliminate the evidence she’s provided.”
“So she’s a liability to them,” I said.
“Probably. You better keep a close eye on her. If I had extra men to put on a security detail, I would. Tell Brendan to keep his lady under lock and key too. This is no joke. Make sure she takes it seriously.”
“I will.”
“He’s already been to the business. He knows exactly where to find her. She’s not safe. Keep a close watch on her. They’re going to try to take her, and you may not get her back in one piece,” he warned.
“Thank you for your help,” I said. “I’ll keep her safe.”
I wanted to vomit. I’d been on far more dangerous missions in the Navy, but this was different. This was Karin. There was no comparison between what I’d done in the military for decades and what faced me now. Everything I stood to lose.
Chapter 18
Karin
For the last week, I’d had at least one O’Shea practically up my ass all the time. The guys were being wonderful about keeping an eye on me and watching over Elise without really letting on what was going on. She fell for the line I gave her that the O’Sheas were convinced they had less than two months to get me and Mickey back together before her wedding. So she accepted it as them hanging around trying to play matchmaker and nothing more. She was so distracted with the wedding stuff it was sinfully easy to fool her that way, and I felt terrible about lying to her. But I wanted to protect her. She needed less stress, not more, and she needed her rest. God knew I hadn’t been sleeping.
The night after we went to the police, Mickey came back to my cabin and helped put together the shitty, cheap bed I’d ordered. I’d paid two hundred bucks to ship the damn thing from the mainland, and it was basically a bunch of long skinny pieces of engineered wood-like stuff, made essentially of splinters from what I could tell, and a bunch of bolts and some instructions that didn’t make sense. Mickey used the diagrams and probably witchcraft to even make any of it fit together.
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