Slow Ride

by Lori Foster

  Constantly checking for Ronnie’s headlights in his rearview mirror, while also watching the road and staying alert to trouble, meant it took Jack five minutes longer than usual to reach his house.

  The porch light, which came on automatically at dusk, lit up only a part of the yard. Most days Jack never gave a thought for the shadows. But today wasn’t most days. He hadn’t yet been able to shake the bad feeling from earlier. Even after they’d left the street, the lingering sense of menace plagued him.

  And of course he knew why.

  Whoever had set them up had specifically targeted Ronnie with that long lethal blade.

  It didn’t take a genius to come to that conclusion, and he’d be surprised if Ronnie didn’t realize it. She was sharper than most, definitely more alert. It all added up—unless she didn’t want to see the truth.

  If taking them both out had been the plan, it would’ve made a lot more sense to start with him. Because of his size, he was the bigger challenge, and yet that knife had stayed hidden until he’d left the porch—and then the stabbing had begun.

  A deep enough cut to the foot or ankle could immobilize a person. Without Jack there, she’d be a sitting duck.

  So why not go after him first?

  Maybe capturing Ronnie had never been the plan. Maybe the ultimate goal was just to frighten her, to put her on notice that someone was after her.

  Her family? From everything Ronnie had told him, Jack didn’t trust them at all. Yet Ronnie didn’t seem to suspect them.

  Did they want rid of her permanently? Hard to imagine, when he only wanted to get her closer.

  After studying the shadows for any shifts and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Jack left his car—lights still on, animals inside—and strode to where Ronnie had pulled up behind him.

  When she stepped out, he waved her back.

  Hitching her purse strap over her shoulder, she asked, “Changing your mind already?”

  How could she even think that? Never in his life had he felt this urgent burning need to protect, as if he protected his very world.

  Not having her close would be torture.

  “You know I’m not.” He held her door so she couldn’t close it. “Wait in the car for me while I have a quick look around. Keep the doors locked.”

  That order had her searching the area, too. “Something’s wrong?”

  “Just a bad feeling.”

  Her eyes widened. “If you think someone’s here, I’m going with you.” She plunged a hand into her purse, no doubt to retrieve her gun. “I can watch your back—”

  Jack stayed her hand. God love the woman, she wanted to protect him. If he told her he’d be better off alone, she might take it as an insult to her capability. Truth was, his focus went askew around her. They were both better off if he knew she was safe in the car.

  “I don’t think anyone is here,” he explained. “If I did, I’d have us both out of here already. But a lot happened today and I won’t take chances with you. Stay inside and if I’m not back in five minutes, drive away.”

  Her brows climbed up. She shoved her hair to the side, gave him a frown, and walked around him.

  “Ronnie.” He caught her arm. “This isn’t a game.”

  “No kidding.” She pulled free and wrapped her arms around herself. “But how about I wait in your car with Howler instead?”

  It took him a second to realize she didn’t want to wait in the dark alone.

  And there went another piece of his heart.

  “A much better idea,” he confirmed, closing her door and striding with her the few feet to his car. Howler whined, unsure what was going on. The kitten stared wide-eyed through his carrier.

  As Ronnie got behind the wheel, she spoke softly to the dog, reassuring him. “He’ll let me know if anyone comes around, right?”

  Jack nodded. “Howler has incredible hearing and is a ferocious defender. Trust him.” After disconnecting the house key, he handed the ring back to her. “Keep her running and keep the doors locked. I’ll be right back.”

  “Maybe you should take my gun.”

  He’d rather she keep it—just in case. “Stay put, Ronnie.” Locking the car door himself, he closed it and turned to go.

  A brisk chill settled in, made sharper by the breeze. Keeping his arms loose, Jack searched the area as he walked to the door of his house, but he didn’t creep along. He was too anxious to get back to Ronnie.

  As he unlocked the door and pushed it open, he stepped back, waiting a couple of seconds before reaching inside to hit the lights, both interior and additional exterior.

  A soft yellow glow lit the yard, the tree line, and beyond. Two deer looked up, and then ambled away. A good sign, since deer tended to be skittish around humans.

  His living room was the same “work in progress” shambles he’d left it in.

  A carefully cleared path led from the right of the couch to the kitchen, another straight from the couch to the television. In and around that were stacked cans of drywall mud, tools, sawhorses, and other various construction needs. During the remodel, he’d opened up the room enough that there was nowhere to hide. Skimming through the house, he checked doors and windows, looked in closets and under the bed, but found nothing amiss.

  Relieved, mostly that Ronnie could have a relaxing night, he headed back out to her.

  It impressed him that she’d waited inside the car, doors locked, until he reached her. Yes, she was sometimes rash and always too brave but clearly not foolhardy. He should have realized she was too smart not to take precautions.

  He let Howler roam around the yard, sniffing and piddling at random, while Ronnie got her duffel and he unloaded the kitten’s carrier. It took a second trip to get the cat box and litter and the rest of the paraphernalia essential to the animals.

  Once they were settled inside, Ronnie announced, “I’m starved. Do you have anything to—?”

  “Don’t say it.” Jack quickly nodded at the dog, who’d been circling the kitchen, nose to the ground, but paused to look at her as if he’d sensed the topic of food.

  Laughing, Ronnie cupped Howler’s massive head in her small hands. “You are so clever, aren’t you? Clever, sweet, and beautiful.”

  Howler narrowed his eyes in bliss and his tail thumped hard against the tiled floor.

  “I’ll give you the first two,” Jack said, “but Howler prefers to be called ruggedly handsome.”

  “Does he?” She kissed the top of the dog’s head. “Ruggedly handsome, it is.”

  Next she picked up the kitten, cuddling his downy softness to her cheek. “And you, you little Peanut. Look at how much you’ve changed already. No more hissing and heartbreaking cries, just purrs.”

  “Love and care,” Jack said, “makes a huge difference.” He hoped that would prove true with Ronnie as well. If she saw differences in the kitten, well, he saw similar differences in her. Though he’d happily have skipped them, the risky circumstances they’d experienced had worked to strengthen trust, and time together built familiarity. She was more relaxed, her guard not as tall or steely.

  And then there was the mutual, volcanic sexual attraction—honestly, his favorite part.

  “Peanut deserves time to play, to grow and learn without being threatened.” As did Ronnie. “It was the same for Howler before Brodie took him in.”

  Her gray eyes shifted to look at the dog. “You said he was mistreated?”

  “Chained in front of a drug dealer’s house in the broiling sun. No water, underfed.” Jack’s hands automatically clenched into fists with the memory. “Brodie was in the area to buy car parts from a nearby garage.”

  Wearing a soft expression, Ronnie knelt by the dog. She put the kitten in her lap so she could hug Howler. “Brodie couldn’t ignore that.”

  “Hell no, he couldn’t. He put Howler in his car,
then went to the house to tell the miserable bastards that he was taking him.”

  Eyes rounding, Ronnie looked up at him. “He went into a drug dealer’s house?”

  Good thing the subject was so grave, because having Ronnie on her knees in front of him sent his imagination into overdrive. “He didn’t know their...occupation at the time.” The memory brought a reluctant grin. “He interrupted some business, guns were drawn, and Brodie had to fight his way through things.” With dark satisfaction, Jack said, “Didn’t go well for the bastards.”

  “Wow.” She looked at Howler again, this time with a sympathetic frown. “You poor baby.”

  Howler soaked it up, rolling to his back to instigate a belly rub, his massive paws held limply in the air.

  Her gaze still on the dog, Ronnie asked, “Would you have done the same?”

  “In a heartbeat.” He couldn’t stand abuse of any kind. What good was it to be gifted with a big, strong physique if you didn’t use it when you could?

  In a whisper so low, he barely heard it, she asked, “Is that what we’re about?”

  Her tone, her averted gaze, bothered Jack. “What do you mean?”

  Shaking her head, she got back to her feet. Still she didn’t look at him. “Never mind.”

  “Wait.” Jack caught her arm and turned her toward him. She resisted getting too close. “Ronnie?”

  Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his. With a world of hurt and uncertainty in her eyes, she asked, “Do you feel sorry for me, Jack?”

  Shit. Is that what she thought? She wasn’t wrong, but what he felt was a hell of a lot more complicated than mere sympathy.

  To ensure she couldn’t rush off in a huff, he caught her waist, lifted her, and plunked her down on the counter.

  “Hey—”

  Stepping between her legs, Jack braced his hands at either side of her hips, caging her in. “Yes. I feel sympathy.” Her brows pinched down and she opened her mouth, no doubt to blast him. “You were kidnapped, babe. I’d feel the same for anyone, man or woman, who’d been through what you have. I also have crazy respect for you.”

  Her frown eased into skepticism.

  Jack kissed her forehead to soften it more. “You’re beautiful, smart, gutsy, and so fucking sexy I can’t believe we’re having this conversation when you could be showering to move things along.” He threaded his fingers through her silky platinum hair, tipped her head, and kissed his way down to her ear to whisper with suggestion, “Unless you want to skip the shower?”

  Her short nails dug into his shoulders. “So tempting.”

  When he traced her ear with his tongue, he felt her nails again as she tensed in delicious reaction.

  “How,” she breathed, “can an ear be so sensitive?”

  That innocent question was a perfect example of all the nuances to sex that she didn’t know—and he couldn’t wait to show her.

  Pressing back, she gave him a mock scowl. “Save all your sexy tricks for after my shower.”

  “Only if you promise to hurry.”

  With a smiling sigh, she looked him over. “All mine—for the next few days at least.” She patted his chest, pushed him back, and slid off the counter. “Given we’re both in a hurry, how about you play the nice host and just surprise me with some simple—” she glanced at the dog “—nourishment while I get ready?”

  The idea of her in the shower, his shower, kept Jack’s need front and center, but her timing was perfect. He’d been hoping for an opportunity to call Brodie, and this seemed like his best bet.

  Unable to resist, he slipped a hand along the back of her neck and drew her in for one last kiss. Her skin was soft and warm, her silky hair sliding over his knuckles. Even after their long day, she smelled sweet and fresh, like the outdoors, flowers, and warm woman.

  “I’ll have something ready in ten minutes,” he murmured, before taking her mouth.

  Here, now, kissing her was different. There was significance in having her in his home, not just for tonight, but for an indefinite time. They were locked safely inside, guaranteed privacy, and he planned to make the most of it.

  Having her here felt right in too many ways to count.

  Though Jack kept it short, when he looked at Ronnie, her eyes were closed, her lips parted, and she leaned into him.

  He could have her now, forget the shower and food, but he knew enough about Ronnie to understand that she needed to do this her way.

  As he released her, Jack said, “If you need more time—”

  “I need you.” Her hands, which she’d knotted in his shirt, loosened as she smoothed the material, stroking his chest underneath. “I don’t think I’m as good at being patient as you are.”

  “It’s a struggle, honey, believe me.” Obviously, more than she realized.

  Putting some space between them, Jack busied himself by filling the animal’s food dishes. He put Howler’s, with a bowl of water, along an out-of-the-way space against the kitchen wall. Surprisingly, the dog waited politely until the kitten’s dish was down, too, before digging in.

  Ronnie lingered, making him wonder if she was nervous about being in a strange house.

  “Everything okay?”

  She nodded at the animals. “Where will they sleep?”

  And now she expected him to be coherent? He popped his neck to the side, trying to free himself of the sexual tension. “Usually Howler goes wherever he pleases when he stays over.”

  “He’s spent the night before?”

  “Several times. He’s stayed with Mom and Charlotte, too. Usually Brodie can take him along when he has to travel, but not always.”

  “That’s nice.”

  She was definitely stalling. Jack just didn’t know why. “I assume he’ll stick close to Peanut, and I planned to block him off in the spare bedroom. The closet there is empty so it’s a good spot for his box.” He wouldn’t close them in. Instead he’d use a small gate to ensure the kitten stayed put, knowing Howler could easily get past it if he found it necessary.

  “Sounds like a plan.” She laced her fingers together. “Guess I’ll get to it.”

  “Use the bathroom off the main bedroom, end of the hall. Towels are in the cabinet.” Jack watched her walk, loving that long, confident stride and the slight sway to her slender hips. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  She went into the bedroom, but then leaned out to say, “I need all sorts of things, Jack, count on it. But they can wait until after I’ve showered, changed, and been f...e...d.”

  Slowly grinning, Jack acknowledged how well she fit—around the animals, with his family...and in his life.

  When he heard the shower start, he called Brodie. While he set up the cat box and dog bed, he explained everything that had happened.

  “You’re meeting the brothers tomorrow?” Brodie asked.

  “Late afternoon.” With the prep done for the animals, Jack returned to the kitchen to start on food. “I’ll feel them out then, but they seemed honestly concerned when we spoke earlier.”

  “I’ll talk to Therman,” Brodie said. “See if he knows them.”

  Therman Ritter, a wealthy collector of murderabilia, seemed to know every serious collector in the tristate and beyond. Elderly and in a wheelchair, Therman now counted Mary and Brodie as part of his eclectic family. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for them. Add in his extraordinary wealth, and he was liable to get answers the brothers couldn’t. Hell, he might even get answers the cops couldn’t.

  “I’d appreciate it.” Jack peered into his fridge, wondering what he should fix for Ronnie to eat. “I’ve got a bad feeling about things.”

  “About her employers?”

  “Not necessarily. Thing is, I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. I just...feel like bad shit is going to happen.”

  “You know, that could be becau
se you’re happy with her. It feels right, so you’re worried something will go wrong.”

  “Maybe.” It was definitely a new sensation, feeling committed to a woman. And not just any woman, but Ronnie Ashford, unique, ballsy, and with more baggage than any woman should have to carry. “You have to admit, a lot of shit has happened. My gut tells me it’s all related.”

  “Well, damn.” Brodie no more discounted gut instinct than Jack would. “I’ll get back to you soon as I hear anything. And hey, if you need me, I can be home in only a few hours.”

  Withdrawing cheese, butter, pickles, and condiments, Jack stacked it all on the counter. “We’re good for now.” He planned to spend the night showing Ronnie everything she’d missed in bed. “But I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’ll be in touch.” Brodie hesitated. “Watch your back.”

  After disconnecting, Jack got out a skillet and made two grilled cheese sandwiches. He’d just finished putting them on plates when Ronnie came down the hall, damp hair brushed back, face clean of makeup, wearing a big white T-shirt with panties...and nothing else.

  Jesus, she was even more striking like this. Her gray eyes were huge, framed by brown lashes and slightly arched eyebrows, the delicate bone structure of her face more obvious.

  As she walked, a thick hank of damp hair fell forward, half covering one eye. He loved the cut, how it complemented her uniqueness and played up her delicate features.

  The oversize shirt hung off one shoulder, showing her collarbone. It fell to mid-thigh, draping her body, displaying as much as it concealed. Her nipples, small and tight, pressed against the fabric.

  She’d removed all the jewelry and... Jack was already hard.

  He looked at the food, then back at Ronnie.

  Smiling, she held out her arms. “Deal with it.” Then reached around him and grabbed a plate. “I’m starved.”

  * * *