“Well, at least he left this pen.” My mother plucks Kristoff’s pants off the floor.
“Great.” Merrick grabs his beer and downs it.
“You know,” my dad says, “since Gisselle was old enough to understand what it is we do, we’ve had to explain to her how we come home every night and sleep with ourselves.”
“No, no, honey,” my mother corrects. “You mean sleep at night or live with ourselves. The other sounds like we just come home and masturbate.”
“Mom!” I protest. They literally have no filter.
“Well, sweetie, I just want your father to be precise. It’s important.”
“Anyway, Leland,” my father goes on, “we’ve always subscribed to the reality of justice being imperfect.” My father shakes a finger at him. “Sometimes you’ve got to let one get away, but that’s the price.”
Merrick points toward the front door. “That man has killed over a hundred people that we know of.”
“Yes. And there’s nothing we can do about that,” my dad interjects. “But if we’d tried to do anything other than put on a show, he would have killed all three of us.”
“Brilliant. Understood. But now you’re all okay, and he’s out there. Free. He needs to be stopped.” Merrick looks like an angry guard dog about to tear loose.
“Son, it doesn’t take a rocket surgeon, which we all know is a step above a rocket scientist, to see that he has powerful connections.”
I look at Merrick’s confused face—the knitted brows, the narrowed calculating eyes. I can tell it’s going to take time for him to get used to my weird family’s even weirder sense of humor.
My dad continues, “Kristoff broke out of jail in Australia, got a hold of a valid passport and US visa, and hopped on a commercial flight within twenty-four hours. Someone was helping him. That means if he’s escaped once, he’ll do it again.”
“He’s going to kill Mitch Hofer and Norton Weeno,” Merrick argues.
“Kristoff gave us his word he would hang up his gun if we publish the story,” my mother says.
“And you believe him?” Merrick holds out his hands.
“No,” I interject. “Not really. But the point is if Kristoff wants them dead, they’re dead. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. But he will eventually get his mark, so convincing Kristoff there’s another path to take might be the only chance Mitch Hofer’s got. Unless someone kills Kristoff first, and we weren’t prepared for that.”
My mom and dad nod in unison.
Merrick looks pissed. He hates what we’re saying, but I have faith that once he calms down and buys a new car, he’ll get it. We did what we had to, and we gave Mitch the best possible chance of living. Not sure I care so much about that Weeno dude. What an asshole.
I squeeze Merrick’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay.” I speak softly. “Sometimes, you have to accept that a few bad guys get away with murder so that innocent people are saved.” Yep. I finally get what my parents have always said.
“I’m sorry, but justice won’t be served if Kristoff Bones doesn’t pay for what he’s done.” Merrick polishes off his beer.
“Okay…” I slide my phone across the table. “Then call your friends. Tell them what kind of vehicle Kristoff is driving. But I guarantee you that Norton Weeno will be dead by the end of the week no matter what, and eventually Kristoff will be back for us and Mitch Hofer.”
I can see it in Merrick’s eyes. He’s a risk-taker. Danger doesn’t scare him and never will, but the fact he showed up here alone means he gave our well-being a lot of thought. Bringing in an army would have escalated things, and we’d be dead.
“Leland, if Kristoff is caught some other way, by some other people, then we’ll deal with it, but this was our only move.” I cover his hand with mine. “You said you trust me. Did you mean it?”
He stares with those warm brown eyes. I’m pretty sure he’s the most beautiful man on the planet, because even now, on the worst, most terrifying day of my life, I still feel tingles when I look at him. Also helps that he’s half-naked. Those are some spectacular abs.
“Yes. I trust you. Kristoff, on the other hand—are you really so certain he won’t come back here and try to kill us all tonight?”
Nope. But… “I think he really wants a book, and barring someone hunting him down and shooting him, this is the best chance we’ve all got.”
“Fine. I won’t call it in. May I have some trousers now?” Merrick asks.
“I’ll think about it. Want some spaghetti?” I say.
Merrick grins. “You are a very difficult woman.”
“Nice to know you finally get me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Leland
I’m not going to pretend that I’m one hundred percent comfortable with what Gisselle is saying, but if she trusted me when I told her that there was no other way when it came to Ripley’s accident, then I can trust her with this.
Bloody hell, I trust her completely. Either way, Kristoff is gone, and it’s out of our hands. Except for the book part. She’s going to have to write the story, or we’ll see Kristoff come knocking in a year.
“I’ve never actually seen your place,” Gisselle says as we pull up to my house about ten minutes outside Austin.
It’s secluded with ten acres, lots of trees, a barn, and a small spring that feeds a stream. I bought it because I needed somewhere quiet to retreat after those difficult work trips. “Would you like to come in and have a tour?” I ask, code for I’d really like to shag the hell out of you and then have a talk about our future.
“Um. Sure.” She shuts off the truck’s engine but doesn’t move. Meanwhile, my passenger door is open, and I’m halfway out.
“Something the matter, love?” I tuck in the flap of the bathrobe I’m wearing that her father loaned me.
Gripping the steering wheel, she turns her head and looks at me with those wide green eyes. The small interior light overhead gives me just enough light to see the worry on her face—downturned lips, shrugged brows. “Before I go in there, I need to know something.”
I slide back in her truck and sit. “Ask me anything.”
“Where’s this going?”
“You mean us?” I know what she means, but I need a moment to gather my thoughts.
“Yeah. Us.”
“I showed up. I risked my life. I trusted you when you asked me to let Kristoff go. Doesn’t that show how I feel about you, Gisselle?” I’m all in.
“Yes. It does. And I couldn’t be more grateful, but I’m wondering where we’re going?”
I lift a brow.
“Professionally, I mean,” she adds.
Ah, yes. “I’ve wondered the same thing myself.” She’s just starting out, and I’m looking to get out. It’s the obstacle I’ve yet to find a solution for.
“Just be honest.” She turns her entire body to face me. “Say exactly what you want and what you’re hoping for. Otherwise, one of us might wake up a year from now and realize this will never work, and I don’t want to get hurt.”
Neither do I. I run a hand through my hair. “To be honest, love, we both see the writing on the wall. The path you’re on is exciting and pays well, but I don’t see how it could be compatible with my future goals.”
“Oh. Wow.” She looks away and stares out the truck’s front window. “Now I feel really silly.”
“Why?”
“Because you still want to run off to all these dangerous places and risk your life, but I don’t. I want to do human interest stories. I want to inspire people, make them see that the world is full of good, not bad.”
“Are you being serious right now, love?” I ask, because she’s never mentioned this.
“Stop. Don’t do the whole cutie ‘love’ thing right now. I’m telling you how I feel, and that’s not easy.”
I reach out and grab her hand. “I know. I know it’s not easy. And I think you’ve misunderstood me.”
Gisselle
I feel a l
ittle lost when Merrick grabs my hand. Mostly because his eyes are all glossy and filled with happiness. Or maybe relief?
“Gisselle, I thought you wanted to follow in my footsteps. You have no bloody idea how happy it makes me to hear I was wrong.”
“Wait. You thought I wanted to cover all of that dangerous, scary crap? Not that I couldn’t do it, but still.” I’m not insane.
“Yes. Why else would you intern for me?” Merrick asks.
“Assist,” I correct.
“Whatever.”
“I wanted to learn from you—you’re an amazing storyteller and interviewer. I mean, the way you get people to trust you and put aside their fear in some of the hairiest situations is incredible. But I always intended to tell stories about regular people, rich or poor, who spend their lives following their passions and giving back.”
Merrick looks like I’ve just informed him that he’s won the Clearing House Sweepstakes.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Couldn’t be happier.” He kisses my lips and presses a rough hand to my cheek. “Knowing that you’re taking a safer path means a lot. Even if I can’t join you.”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I want out of this professional arrangement I’m in, but there is no retirement clause.” He kisses me again. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give it up. I would. In a heartbeat.” He takes my hands and clasps them in his. “You are the most amazing, fearless woman I’ve ever met, Gisselle.”
I blink a few times, trying to let it all sink in. “So you’re saying that you don’t actually want to keep working?”
“I want to work.” He looks up at the roof of my truck. “I thought it might be nice to own an antique shop. Pens, books, guns—antiques for a gentleman.”
I could see Leland Merrick owning a store. Of course, I could also see him selling secrets out the side door. He doesn’t come across as the Sunday football, mow the lawn, quiet weekends in the hammock type of guy.
I stare at him and tilt my head, thinking. “You really want out?”
“Yes. Especially if it means being with you.”
“And you trust me?” I need to hear it again, because he might not like my solution, and I’m not going to give him a choice.
“Yes?”
I stare him down.
“I mean.” He clears his throat. “Yes.”
“Then just have faith that where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“But, Gisselle, this isn’t a problem we can wish away—”
I hold up my hand. “Bup, bup! I require vigorous lovemaking. Everything else can wait. Now show me your bedroom.” I exit the truck and march to his front door. I can’t see much of the house, but with the stone walkway and hedges, it reminds me of those country cottages you see in BBC shows.
I clap my hands. “Chop-chop. Sex to have. Woman to please. Haven’t got all night.”
He joins me on the porch and gives me an odd look. “You really don’t want to talk about this?”
I raise one brow. “You said you trust me. I told you to have faith.”
“Okay…” He unlocks the door and pushes it open. “Second door on the left. Be there in a moment.”
“Great. I’ll be the one lying naked on your bed.” I peck his lips and saunter off down the dark hallway.
In the background, I hear him suck in a sharp breath and mutter, “She’s going to be the death of me.”
“Yup.” I find the door, flip on the light—Oh, nice big room with a fireplace!—and take off my clothes. That’s right, Merrick, this little intern is about to rock your world.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I’m stretched across Merrick’s bed when he enters with two tumblers of whisky in his hands. I make no apologies for how I’m positioned. Yeah, it’s super naughty, but I’m not in the mood to be bashful.
He smiles. “Well, seems the eagle has landed.”
“Squawk.”
He sets down the drinks on the nightstand but doesn’t do much else other than give me a quick kiss.
Not the reaction I’d hoped for. I slap my thighs shut. “I’ll give you five seconds to explain why you’re not plowing my very needy field.”
He leans over me and plants a hot, lingering kiss on my lips and then pulls away. “I love you, Gisselle.” He pushes back the loose hair from my forehead. “Which makes you pretty much the only woman I’ve ever said that to besides my mum and the chief’s daughter.”
“Huh? What chief?”
“Never mind. The point is, I really don’t think my plow can sow such a lovely soft field if the field doesn’t know what it’s growing.”
I prop myself up on my elbows and gaze into his vivid brown eyes. “Which is?”
He spears his finger through the side of his hair. “You know I’m not interested in a fling with you, Gisselle. I want to set down roots, start a tribe, know what it’s like to come home every night to a person rather than a laptop.”
Oh. I stifle a smile. “Leland Merrick, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” I sing teasingly. Because we are way, way past that.
His eyes flicker with annoyance.
“Sorry. Sorry. My bad. I think you can safely say that I am completely, insanely, and very dirtily—though I’m not sure that’s an actual word—in love with you.”
He pierces me with his sharp eyes. Again, not what I expected. I just told him I love him.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“My point just now is that it doesn’t matter what I want. Reality is that I don’t live the safest life. Sometimes I’m gone for months.”
It takes a moment for the old hamster wheel to kick in. “Oh. That. I already told you to trust me. Where there’s a will—”
“Stop being cute. This is serious.” Merrick looks like he’s about to break.
He’s right. This is serious. I shouldn’t be so flippant, but I just wanted us to have this one night together without any big discussions, fights, tiffs, debates, headbutts, or whatever.
I inhale deeply. “Don’t get mad, but I called my brother a second ago. You’re not getting off that terrorist watch list for a very, very long time. You are officially fucked when it comes to air travel, and I’m pretty sure your every move will be tracked for the next decade.”
Any second now he’s going to understand that he’s completely useless to “his people” if he can’t so much as apply for a credit card without drawing attention. In other words, he’s now free.
If later, say a few years down the road, they ask him to do more work, I’ll figure something out to make him an unusable asset. I could always have Kristoff break his legs.
Merrick’s mouth stretches into the most sensual, happy smile I’ve ever seen.
Thank God. I am so relieved.
“I suppose my mum could come here to visit,” he says.
“Now you’re catching on.” I smile, feeling prouder than hell that I could do this one thing for him. Mr. Leland Merrick needed a girl to save him, I sing in my head.
“You are a very smart woman, Miss Walters.”
“Mrs. Merrick?” I suggest.
“Are you proposing to me, Gisselle?” he mocks in a serious tone.
I toggle my head. “I might be persuaded to put a ring on it, but I prefer to put something else on your something else first.”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Yes! Finally. He seals his mouth over mine, and I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his soft lips and hot tongue. Suddenly, it all melts away. The fear, the stress, the not knowing how we were ever going to be together. The entire mess inside my head and heart dissolves with every stroke of his tongue.
Before I know it, he’s shed the bathrobe and is lying beside me, his hands roaming over my bare breasts, down my stomach, and settling between my legs. I’ve been ready for him since we entered the house.
“You’re wet, Mrs. Merrick. I think that means you want me.”
>
“Mmmm…” I slide my hand to the nape of his neck and pull his lips back to my mouth. He takes the cue and nestles himself between my thighs, never breaking the kiss.
He thrusts forward, and I swallow my moan. He feels perfect inside me—hard, long, hot. But when he starts moving, sliding out slowly and slamming back in, I’m already feeling the build. It’s just that good.
“Ohmygod. Ohmygod,” I pant between kisses. I don’t know why my body can’t handle it or take things slow with Merrick. When I was with my ex, it would take a miracle for me to come. With this man, he’s barely inside me and my clit feels like a glowing, hot ember of sinful aches. I want it to last, I want to keep going for hours, but the intense friction of his huge cock moving in and out has me grabbing fistfuls of sheets and crying out Leland’s name before I can do anything about it.
He doesn’t seem to care, because his hips don’t stop the expert motion and deep powerful thrusts until every sweet wave of euphoria has ripped through my body.
I don’t know how long my orgasm lasts, but when it’s over, I’m spent.
Merrick flips me over on all fours and pushes back in, taking his time like he’s savoring the moment.
I drop my head on the soft white pillow and relax into it, letting him work his magic. Within a few minutes, the repeated friction against my G-spot has my core heating up again.
“I’m going to come,” I pant.
“Good.” He flips me back over, and I wrap one leg across his hard, flexing ass. He slides my arms up over my head and pins them there while his mouth and tongue trail hot kisses up and down the side of my neck. His pace quickens, and he starts pistoning his hips. So, so good.
A deep guttural groan erupts from his lips, and the sensation of him fucking his cum into me ignites me all over again. This time, the orgasm comes from somewhere deeper. I can’t open my eyes or breathe, but I feel Merrick inside me, and I know this moment is perfect. We’re together. Not just our naked, sweaty bodies, but our hearts. Wherever I go, he goes. And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.
After several long moments, his pace slows, but he stays inside me and nuzzles my neck. “I’m never, ever taking my cock out of you.”
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