by Regan Black
That was the last thing she expected to hear. Her skin went hot, an improvement on the chills. It was bad enough knowing someone had left the note, broken a window and taken pictures. Knowing someone had been in the house and was now listening in on her life was outrageous. Intolerable.
“How long?” It was more growl than question.
“Easy.” Under the counter, Derek’s thigh bumped hers. “They don’t know yet. The note was placed recently or it would have been more weathered.”
For a woman who relied on logic and a cool head in the face of dire circumstance, she was about to lose it right here. On the bright side, they weren’t far from the psych ward. If she went off the deep end, Derek would have help right away.
“In my house.” She murmured the words behind her hand to keep from shouting. The violation simply leveled her, effectively as a punch from a heavyweight champ. “How? The police didn’t see any signs of a break-in when they came out to take the vandalism report.”
Derek’s brow flexed in thought. “Maybe after that? Hank promised to figure it out. He just needs some time.”
She clutched her hands in her lap to hide the shaking. “Hank thinks there are other devices? Here?”
Derek slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “Just a precaution.”
“I’m not going home.” The thought of going back made her skin crawl.
“We knew that already,” he assured her.
“I mean ever. I’m never going back.” She wouldn’t feel safe there again. “I’ll sell it as is. Furnishings included.”
“Let’s not call the Realtor yet,” he cautioned.
“He must have heard us,” she said, cringing. “In the kitchen. On the couch.” She jumped to her feet, too wired to sit still. “Derek.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “What now?”
He tugged her back down to sit beside him and trapped her hands gently on his thigh. “Hank expects me to convince you to go home.”
“No,” she gasped. Mentally she slashed the budget for Hank’s Christmas present in half. “Why?”
“He wants us to set a trap. You’ve been through so much, Grace Ann. If this is the last straw, if you can’t do it, he will understand.”
Derek was right, of course. Hank wouldn’t hold it against her if she couldn’t pull it off. It made sense to try to use the bugs against whoever had planted them. A trap might be their best chance to get a solid lead on the identity of the madman hunting her family.
“I don’t suppose he suggested an alternative?” she asked, suspecting the answer before he spoke.
“He said your parents would love to see you.”
Her choices were to hold the line or retreat. Deflated, bordering on numb, she made her decision. “I’ll go back.”
“We’ll go back,” he stated, leaving no room to argue.
Back to where they’d shared a meal before feasting on each other while someone listened. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Another series of good memories tainted by ugliness she’d have to overcome.
“How about this?” He gave her hands a squeeze. “We can replace your phone, grab dinner and then see how you feel about it. If you want to stay at Kevin’s apartment tonight, we’ll do that. Think of it as a professional consult. Someone should walk me through what I’ll need to rearrange to make his life easier when he comes home.”
“I, um...” She’d promised Kevin not to let Derek put his life on hold again. His life as a civilian, in another town with someone new and awesome. She pulled her hands free. “I can always get a hotel room or go to my parents’ place later tonight.” Was he doing a compare-and-contrast thing with her and someone significant? She should just ask. They’d been honest with each other about everything else since the beginning.
It just...hurt. This deep, dull ache radiating through her limbs couldn’t be blamed on any physical injury.
“Whatever you decide, I’m not leaving you, Grace Ann.”
“You have to,” she replied. “You have a job and a life and...” Her throat went dry when she tried to get the words out. “Hank will make sure the protection detail sticks closer.” Like a noose around her neck. “I’ve imposed on you enough.”
“Imposed?” he echoed, a whip of impatience in his voice.
“Haven’t I?” She tilted her head to sneak a glance at him and found his face stamped with frustration. There were storm clouds in his blue eyes, his jaw set at a hard angle. She fought the urge to kiss and tease him until that slow, sexy smile appeared.
“No.” He turned her chin to meet his gaze full-on. “I told Hank I’d see this through. No one can be sure how things will escalate if the Riley Hunter realizes we found the bugs.”
“This is a job for the CID.” She was now a job for an official agency. “You really don’t need to—”
“The hell I don’t.”
The man was gracious to a fault. If he stayed, would there be anything left of their friendship? Worse, if he stayed would he get caught in the cross fire? “You should go back home,” she said, determined to do the right thing. “You’ll have at least two full weeks of normal before Kevin’s released from the skilled nursing center.”
“Why are you pushing me away?” he demanded. “What did Kevin say?”
“Nothing.” She’d love nothing more than to run off with him and go play in the woods or at the shore. The idea of getting off the radar and exploring more of that incredibly hot tenderness was an astonishing temptation. She wanted to know he was into her, not feeling some sense of obligation because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Her fingers fluttered to her throat before she could stop herself. Derek’s gaze latched onto the motion. “Hear me, Grace Ann. I’m not leaving you. Or Kevin,” he added, belatedly.
She tried again to keep the promise she’d just made to Kevin. “Don’t you want to get back to your house, your bed and your routine?”
He scowled at her, as if he couldn’t figure out if he recognized her. “Eventually,” he admitted.
“Then why waste your vacation time when you don’t need to? You’re not far away. You can swing by and visit Kevin whenever you want. He’ll have plenty of help from professionals and friends until he can manage on his own.”
“And you?”
“I have Hank and his team.”
“Right.” Derek looked past her, out the window, not making eye contact. “First things first. We need to get your phone replaced.”
Wow. His bossy lawyer side returned with a vengeance. “And after that Hank and I can figure out what he wants the listener to hear.”
“No. After that we’ll pick up food and you’ll call Hank from Kevin’s house.”
He made her feel like a teenager who’d been caught out past her curfew. Derek might not be a soldier, but he knew how and when to apply an authoritative voice. “You’re not giving me any say?”
He shrugged. “I’m done arguing about the details. Come on.”
She’d probably have an easier time sending him on his way once they baited the trap for Hank. Regardless, after that task was done, she’d make sure he got clear before her problems could spill over and hurt the Sayer family again.
* * *
Frustrated was only the tip of the iceberg for Derek. He buried it. If his ultimate goal was to create something more personal and permanent with Grace Ann, he would adjust and adapt to get her on board. Not the first time he’d needed to reframe things. She was swamped by the circumstances. It was her nature to step into the breach rather than put someone else in jeopardy. Pushing him away was most likely her attempt at protecting him.
That didn’t make it any easier.
This Riley Hunter had started a game that he didn’t intend for Grace Ann to win. Too bad. She wasn’t alone in this anymore.
For the hour it took
to replace her phone, Derek fumed behind a mask of serenity. Eventually she’d realize there was no chance of him leaving. He replayed every second since she’d fallen asleep on his chest and most of the fantastic minutes beforehand. They were good at occasional sex, but that had been special. And he intended to capitalize and build on that treasured connection.
He debated his strategy while she talked with Hank about how to trap the bastard on the other end of the bugs in her house. She’d started pushing him away once she understood Hank wanted him to stay and help. He supposed the “go home” and “we can only be friends” signals she was dropping between them like orange road-construction barrels were because she cared deeply for him, too. He tried to feel encouraged, but convincing her they could be more than friends with benefits was going to be a tricky process.
“I’m really sorry you’re caught up in all of this,” she said as he entered her neighborhood.
“Offer still stands,” he reminded her. “We can go back to Kevin’s place when we’re done.” He’d keep using “we” until she got the message.
Hank had told them to talk freely about the incident in Afghanistan. Her job was to plant a false detail, using a name Hank provided. He also asked Derek to make reservations at a specific restaurant in Bethesda for the day after next. He hoped to see how closely the other side was listening and how quickly they could respond.
“I wish you were anywhere but here,” she said as he parked in her driveway. “And I’m selfish enough to be relieved that I don’t have to go in there by myself.”
Her raw honesty loosened the knots in his shoulders. He cut the engine and took her hand, hoping to keep the communication flowing. “Thanks.”
Her brow flexed into a frown. “For what?”
“Being you,” he said. “You nearly convinced me you were sick of me already.”
“Not true.” The flicker of a smile didn’t reach her eyes. He tilted her chin and leaned over to kiss her. She turned away at the last second and his lips brushed her cheek. “We should get inside.” She pushed open the door and climbed out before he could reply.
Her hand trembled as she tapped the code into the panel to raise the garage door. Once the overhead door had rolled down and they were out of sight and before they walked inside where they would be overheard, he drew her into his arms.
“You have my word you won’t be alone for any of this, Grace Ann.”
She dropped her head to his shoulder, her arms banding tightly around his waist. He hated that some nameless, faceless coward had put this fear into her.
“It might be better for everyone if I was,” she said, leaning back. “Your brother’s been hurt by someone after me. If something happens to you...”
He kissed her as her voice trailed off. Her fingers curled into his shirt as she held tight, kissing him back.
This was his only defense against all the words rolling around in his head. He wanted to tell her she was special to him, that he wanted to stand by her through all the joys and trouble life could toss their way. When he gave her those words, he wanted her to believe him.
A minute or an hour later, she broke the kiss. “I don’t want to talk about the incident,” she admitted. “I’m afraid of it. Of after.” She rubbed her palms together. “The nightmares. And I really don’t want to make plans that could put you in harm’s way.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “Then we’ll go tell Hank to find another way.”
Her fingertips fluttered over his jaw. “You’re amazing, Derek.”
Was that a goodbye in her voice? He tamped down the knee-jerk reaction to demand clarification. “Same goes.” He kissed her again, reveling in the hot silk of her mouth, the taste unique to her. He slid his palms up and down the tense muscles of her back. “Is Hank bad at his job?”
“What?” She blinked up at him. “No.”
“Then we’ll trust him to use this charade for your benefit. I won’t judge anything you’re about to say.”
“Thanks.” She drew him toward the steps. “Once this is done, you should get back to your life.”
Why did she keep going there?
The overhead light timed out and she sucked in a breath at the sudden darkness. “Man, I’m jumpy.” As soon as they moved, the motion sensor turned the light back on. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing to me,” he said as they went inside. “I’m right where I want to be.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he said emphatically. From this point forward, they had to assume someone was listening. “If you’d like to bake something to tempt me to stick around, I won’t complain.”
They’d decided to use her known strategy of stress baking to help with the performance.
“We just ate.”
He cozied up behind her, nibbling her ear. “But what if we get hungry later?” he asked suggestively.
She prodded him with her elbow. “We still have brownies left over.”
“Oh, yeah.” He moved around her so he could get into the kitchen and steal one. “My mom used to make the most amazing caramel brownies,” he said. “Once she died, I tried to replicate them and discovered I’m brownie-challenged.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You want me to prove it? Point me to your mixer.” He winked at her. “Kevin will surely appreciate your effort more than mine when he gets to the nursing center.”
She pretended to let him convince her and he pulled up the recipe from the cookbooks he’d painstakingly transcribed to files he shared with Kevin on the cloud. Together they reviewed the recipe, gathered ingredients and set to work.
“Kevin told me you baked at the base in Afghanistan, too.” He slipped a hand around her waist as he set Hank’s plan in motion.
“It took some negotiating to get time in the kitchen but the facility manager came around.”
“What did you make first?” he asked.
“Oatmeal raisin cookies.”
She’d brought those a time or two on their weekends. “I bet you had carte blanche after that.”
“Pretty much,” she admitted with a soft smile. “It was nice to have a taste of home.”
They talked more about his mom’s brownies, theorizing why the recipe hadn’t worked for him. Watching her, he found a sweet comfort in every elegant motion. As ingredients blended, scenting the air with rich cocoa and butter and smooth caramel, memories of his childhood flooded over him.
He should have known watching his mother’s recipe come alive again would threaten to rip his heart out. Just when he felt too ragged, as if he might never be whole, Grace Ann brushed against him or shared a quiet smile.
“Altitude is a big part of baking,” she said. “I had to make some adjustments with temperatures and baking times while we were in Afghanistan.”
“Did you ever give treats to the locals?”
“Like a cookie exchange?” She laughed, the sound brittle but convincing. “That sort of interaction was discouraged. When we saw locals, it was generally for wellness checks. They have high expectations of Western medicine and we did what we could to live up to them.”
“You mean vaccines and stuff like that?”
“Pretty much.” She slid the brownies into the oven to bake. “You also have to adjust baking time and temperatures for glass pans versus nonstick.”
None of those notes had been on the original recipe card. “Do girls just know this stuff intuitively?”
“That’s sexist, Mr. Attorney.” She stuck out her tongue. “Most of the time those directions are on the boxed mixes.”
“Boys don’t read directions.” He kissed her nose and then pulled out a counter stool for her as they prepared for the next phase of this farce.
“You’re a mess,” she teased.
“Bet you can fix me, being an amazing nurse and all.”
&n
bsp; “I’m suspended, remember?”
She sighed, for the sake of her performance or because she didn’t want to do this, he wasn’t sure. He massaged her tense hands. She had no idea how much she telegraphed with her skilled hands. “You said those charges are bogus.”
“Maybe ‘out of context’ is a better way to describe it.”
“So tell me,” he said.
“It’s classified,” she murmured. “Or it should be.”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Not a lawyer with clearance,” she said, her lips curving.
“Just talk to me. You obviously need to get something off your chest.”
She sighed again and mimed banging her head on the countertop. “I’ve told you they suspended me while they investigate a claim that I misused supplies.”
“Right.” As she talked, he rubbed her shoulders, lending her support and bolstering her enormous courage. It was ridiculous that she had to go through all this for the benefit of a predator.
“There are strict rules about what supplies we can use on civilians and when,” she continued. “Our resupply shipments were behind schedule and we were operating on a shoestring whenever casualties came through. It’s the same thing every mission deals with. We found a way to keep doing the job. Your brother really is an excellent nurse,” she added, twisting to meet his gaze.
Inexplicably choked up, Derek made a small production over checking the oven timer.
“Anyway, come springtime, the days blurred together. The incident that I believe sparked the investigation came during a particularly bad week.”
“Why’s that?”
“The insurgents had new weapons to play with.” To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly and waved a hand in front of her face. Composed again, she continued. “They also had new targets. There was a new school in the village and the kids, boys and girls, loved it. We’d gone out for a wellness day when it was bombed.”
Grace Ann’s recitation made it too real. Too evil. “The school was bombed?” Derek had heard about it on the news and been worried sick about Kevin. “Was Kevin there?” he asked for the charade.