If Only
Page 75
But the asshole would never make that flight. NYPD planned to nail his ass the minute he tried to check in. Only another half hour to wait.
If he wasn’t just playing them.
Didn’t matter. With two cops dead and Galen a target, the brass in Tampa wanted him and Galen to stay put. To keep them safe, sure, but also to serve as bait if needed. The only two ways to reach their property—the lakeshore drive and the lake itself—were being guarded.
Actually Vance had absolutely no problem with their caution.
“Not long to wait,” Galen said, glancing at the clock. “If he doesn’t get on that flight, then…hell.”
“The bastard’s definitely crazy as bug shit. It’d suck if he’s also smart.”
“True.” Galen scowled, moving his shoulders. “Maybe that’s why it feels wrong to be unarmed. Think I’ll finish up here first and—”
“Leave that shit on the tiles too long, and you’ll never get it off.”
“Fine. Be a good guard dog till I get back.” With a grunt of annoyance, Galen strode out of the office.
A couple of minutes later, Vance’s cell rang. “You got a beat-up red Toyota Camry coming in.” The call came from a special agent stationed half a mile away, watching the turnoff to the lakeshore drive. Pretty convenient that he and Galen lived on an isolated lake with only one access road. “Got a pretty brunette at the wheel. Looks like the one whose picture’s on your desk.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Sally was coming.
Damn, but he wanted to see her. Only, please God, don’t let her cry. Hell, he’d handled everything so poorly; she’d misinterpreted everything he’d said.
He’d hurt her.
Fuck. The knowledge ate at his gut. He’d tried to call her last night. Galen had as well. And texted her. No response. They’d left voice mails.
For God’s sake, Dan was supposed to have explained everything before he took her home with him. When they’d finally reached him this morning, they’d found that Sally had gone home with Marcus.
So she didn’t know…
But he knew the imp. Knew her strength. And intelligence. Even without Dan or Galen or Vance’s explanations, Sally would figure out what was going on. She’d either hack out the info or weasel it out of someone. By now, she’d know why they’d sent her away.
He’d thought she would call.
He should have known better. Being Sally, she’d want to yell at them in person. Fuck, he loved her.
His smile grew. Even though he’d still have to send her away for her own safety, anticipation hummed through his body. After he apologized his ass off—and maybe swatted her ass for risking her neck by coming here—he could have her sweet body in his arms for a few minutes. Listen to her bright voice, her laughter…or, more likely, her shouting.
Just don’t let her cry, please.
He walked out the front door and glanced around. Impenetrable growth lay on each side of their property—Florida’s version of a chain-link fence—which would take a machete and flamethrower to get through.
Her car pulled into the drive. And just in case Somerfeld had gotten to her, was hiding in her car, Vance had drawn his weapon.
But she slid out, slammed the door, and scowled at him with an expression that was easy to read. Her chin was up, her shoulders squared. She certainly wasn’t a terrified kidnapped victim.
She was prepared for battle. Damn, she made him proud. She’d argue, undoubtedly, that the chances of her being targeted were slim to none. That all the deaths had happened in New York. That she belonged with them.
But no. He holstered his weapon and stood where he was. Waiting.
As she walked toward him, her control slipped, and he grinned when she broke into a run.
She slammed into him and hugged him, holding him so tightly she shook with the effort.
Unable to help himself, he pulled her closer. Breathing in her clean, sweet scent was like unexpectedly finding almond cookies. So fucking sweet. “Shhh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “We’ll work this out somehow.”
“You told me to move out.” Her words were muffled by being said into his chest. “I’m really mad at you.” Her arms didn’t loosen in the least.
Don’t laugh. “I know.”
“I figured out why, but did you have to be so mean about it?”
Hell, exactly what they’d realized, far too late. “I should have explained.” He rubbed his chin on her silky hair. “Trouble is, we’d just seen the pictures of the other cops who were killed. And you called, and while you were on the phone, I saw photos of the woman he murdered. It was an ugly death, Sally.”
“Kari told me.”
“After seeing those, all we could think about was keeping you safe. If the bastard comes after Galen for revenge, we want you far, far away.”
The last bit of tension slid out of her body, and she leaned against him fully, all soft curves. “I don’t think sending me away is the right answer.”
And because of her spiteful father, sending her away would affect her more than most women. He frowned. What if the asshole didn’t get caught in the next hour? If this dragged on and on. “Maybe we can find a way to compromise.” Maybe all of them at a safe house? Maybe they could move. Or work from home. Or never leave Sally alone so she always had one guard. Teach her to shoot. Get a big dog—Raoul had found an excellent shepherd for his Kim, one from a company that specialized in protecting women. Move to Mexico. He huffed a laugh. Yes, he was losing his mind. She needed to leave. “Let me talk to Galen about it.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Sally, he won’t let you stay long enough to argue.”
She snorted. “Because he knows I’ll win an argument. If he’s in danger, this is where I want to be. I can help you stand guard. Three’s better than two, after all.”
Galen versus Sally. I should sell tickets. But he wouldn’t let her stay either. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll talk with—”
“Vance, I-I need to see him. If nothing else, to know he’s okay.” She tipped her head back to smile up at him. Her brown eyes had light golden flecks that sparkled in the sunlight. Stubborn and mischievous, a terrifying combination. “But I’m glad I saw you first. I needed to know you were all right too.”
That nurturing streak of hers was even stronger than he’d thought. Couldn’t say he didn’t prize that trait. In fact, he wanted, more and more, to give her a little one to mother.
He bent his head, taking himself another kiss. Her lips were sweet, soft, generous. Given the choice, he’d have hauled her straight up to his bed. “You sure you don’t want me to pave the way?”
“No.” When she straightened her shoulders, her full breasts strained against the bright red halter top she wore.
His mouth went dry. “Brought all your weapons to war, did you?”
“I’m a firm believer in outgunning a man—and kicking him once he’s down.” She fluffed her hair.
Although she grinned at him, he could still see lingering hurt in her big brown eyes, and he squeezed her shoulder. “I love you, Sally.”
She leaned against him for a moment. “Love you too—even if you are an idiot.”
He wanted to defend her, to at least accompany her back and take the brunt of Galen’s anger. But sometimes two people had to battle it out, and stepping between them would only get the peacemaker slaughtered by both. “He’s working in the cabana.”
VANCE STILL LOVES me. Sally followed Vance through the house, out the back, and across the patio. There he stopped, looking out toward the lake. In a boat just offshore, two men in a motorboat were fishing. He lifted his hand to them in a short wave before turning back to Sally. “Good luck, sweetie.”
After a final kiss, he gave her a slight push and remained where he was. Probably going to make sure she made it to the cabana before retreating out of hearing distance of the battle to come.
Smart guy. And actually, she was glad. When she and Galen argued, Vance tended to intervene, which wasn’t good if tempers got hot. She’d never forget the men’s fistfight…and all the bruises.
At least, no matter how angry Galen got, he’d never physically fight with a woman. And he’d said once that he never administered punishments when he was angry. Her ass was safe for the moment—because she intended to piss him the heck off.
Veering to the right, she headed down the overgrown path to the hidden cabana.
As she stepped inside, she spotted Galen in the kitchen area, buffing newly placed tiles.
He saw her. For an instant, his eyes lightened with pleasure, and everything in her surged up with joy.
A second later, his carved face turned deadly cold. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Feeling as if she’d walked into an ice storm, she looked away as she regathered her courage. A new bondage table sat across the room. Pretty, all dark wood and leather padding. It was the one she’d seen in the catalog. Her jaw set at the thought of them using her equipment with other women. Never.
And Mr. Grumpy Pants wasn’t going to intimidate her. She set her hands on her hips. “Hiding out?” she asked, her tone frigid enough to match her insides.
If he wasn’t just playing them.
Didn’t matter. With two cops dead and Galen a target, the brass in Tampa wanted him and Galen to stay put. To keep them safe, sure, but also to serve as bait if needed. The only two ways to reach their property—the lakeshore drive and the lake itself—were being guarded.
Actually Vance had absolutely no problem with their caution.
“Not long to wait,” Galen said, glancing at the clock. “If he doesn’t get on that flight, then…hell.”
“The bastard’s definitely crazy as bug shit. It’d suck if he’s also smart.”
“True.” Galen scowled, moving his shoulders. “Maybe that’s why it feels wrong to be unarmed. Think I’ll finish up here first and—”
“Leave that shit on the tiles too long, and you’ll never get it off.”
“Fine. Be a good guard dog till I get back.” With a grunt of annoyance, Galen strode out of the office.
A couple of minutes later, Vance’s cell rang. “You got a beat-up red Toyota Camry coming in.” The call came from a special agent stationed half a mile away, watching the turnoff to the lakeshore drive. Pretty convenient that he and Galen lived on an isolated lake with only one access road. “Got a pretty brunette at the wheel. Looks like the one whose picture’s on your desk.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Sally was coming.
Damn, but he wanted to see her. Only, please God, don’t let her cry. Hell, he’d handled everything so poorly; she’d misinterpreted everything he’d said.
He’d hurt her.
Fuck. The knowledge ate at his gut. He’d tried to call her last night. Galen had as well. And texted her. No response. They’d left voice mails.
For God’s sake, Dan was supposed to have explained everything before he took her home with him. When they’d finally reached him this morning, they’d found that Sally had gone home with Marcus.
So she didn’t know…
But he knew the imp. Knew her strength. And intelligence. Even without Dan or Galen or Vance’s explanations, Sally would figure out what was going on. She’d either hack out the info or weasel it out of someone. By now, she’d know why they’d sent her away.
He’d thought she would call.
He should have known better. Being Sally, she’d want to yell at them in person. Fuck, he loved her.
His smile grew. Even though he’d still have to send her away for her own safety, anticipation hummed through his body. After he apologized his ass off—and maybe swatted her ass for risking her neck by coming here—he could have her sweet body in his arms for a few minutes. Listen to her bright voice, her laughter…or, more likely, her shouting.
Just don’t let her cry, please.
He walked out the front door and glanced around. Impenetrable growth lay on each side of their property—Florida’s version of a chain-link fence—which would take a machete and flamethrower to get through.
Her car pulled into the drive. And just in case Somerfeld had gotten to her, was hiding in her car, Vance had drawn his weapon.
But she slid out, slammed the door, and scowled at him with an expression that was easy to read. Her chin was up, her shoulders squared. She certainly wasn’t a terrified kidnapped victim.
She was prepared for battle. Damn, she made him proud. She’d argue, undoubtedly, that the chances of her being targeted were slim to none. That all the deaths had happened in New York. That she belonged with them.
But no. He holstered his weapon and stood where he was. Waiting.
As she walked toward him, her control slipped, and he grinned when she broke into a run.
She slammed into him and hugged him, holding him so tightly she shook with the effort.
Unable to help himself, he pulled her closer. Breathing in her clean, sweet scent was like unexpectedly finding almond cookies. So fucking sweet. “Shhh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “We’ll work this out somehow.”
“You told me to move out.” Her words were muffled by being said into his chest. “I’m really mad at you.” Her arms didn’t loosen in the least.
Don’t laugh. “I know.”
“I figured out why, but did you have to be so mean about it?”
Hell, exactly what they’d realized, far too late. “I should have explained.” He rubbed his chin on her silky hair. “Trouble is, we’d just seen the pictures of the other cops who were killed. And you called, and while you were on the phone, I saw photos of the woman he murdered. It was an ugly death, Sally.”
“Kari told me.”
“After seeing those, all we could think about was keeping you safe. If the bastard comes after Galen for revenge, we want you far, far away.”
The last bit of tension slid out of her body, and she leaned against him fully, all soft curves. “I don’t think sending me away is the right answer.”
And because of her spiteful father, sending her away would affect her more than most women. He frowned. What if the asshole didn’t get caught in the next hour? If this dragged on and on. “Maybe we can find a way to compromise.” Maybe all of them at a safe house? Maybe they could move. Or work from home. Or never leave Sally alone so she always had one guard. Teach her to shoot. Get a big dog—Raoul had found an excellent shepherd for his Kim, one from a company that specialized in protecting women. Move to Mexico. He huffed a laugh. Yes, he was losing his mind. She needed to leave. “Let me talk to Galen about it.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Sally, he won’t let you stay long enough to argue.”
She snorted. “Because he knows I’ll win an argument. If he’s in danger, this is where I want to be. I can help you stand guard. Three’s better than two, after all.”
Galen versus Sally. I should sell tickets. But he wouldn’t let her stay either. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll talk with—”
“Vance, I-I need to see him. If nothing else, to know he’s okay.” She tipped her head back to smile up at him. Her brown eyes had light golden flecks that sparkled in the sunlight. Stubborn and mischievous, a terrifying combination. “But I’m glad I saw you first. I needed to know you were all right too.”
That nurturing streak of hers was even stronger than he’d thought. Couldn’t say he didn’t prize that trait. In fact, he wanted, more and more, to give her a little one to mother.
He bent his head, taking himself another kiss. Her lips were sweet, soft, generous. Given the choice, he’d have hauled her straight up to his bed. “You sure you don’t want me to pave the way?”
“No.” When she straightened her shoulders, her full breasts strained against the bright red halter top she wore.
His mouth went dry. “Brought all your weapons to war, did you?”
“I’m a firm believer in outgunning a man—and kicking him once he’s down.” She fluffed her hair.
Although she grinned at him, he could still see lingering hurt in her big brown eyes, and he squeezed her shoulder. “I love you, Sally.”
She leaned against him for a moment. “Love you too—even if you are an idiot.”
He wanted to defend her, to at least accompany her back and take the brunt of Galen’s anger. But sometimes two people had to battle it out, and stepping between them would only get the peacemaker slaughtered by both. “He’s working in the cabana.”
VANCE STILL LOVES me. Sally followed Vance through the house, out the back, and across the patio. There he stopped, looking out toward the lake. In a boat just offshore, two men in a motorboat were fishing. He lifted his hand to them in a short wave before turning back to Sally. “Good luck, sweetie.”
After a final kiss, he gave her a slight push and remained where he was. Probably going to make sure she made it to the cabana before retreating out of hearing distance of the battle to come.
Smart guy. And actually, she was glad. When she and Galen argued, Vance tended to intervene, which wasn’t good if tempers got hot. She’d never forget the men’s fistfight…and all the bruises.
At least, no matter how angry Galen got, he’d never physically fight with a woman. And he’d said once that he never administered punishments when he was angry. Her ass was safe for the moment—because she intended to piss him the heck off.
Veering to the right, she headed down the overgrown path to the hidden cabana.
As she stepped inside, she spotted Galen in the kitchen area, buffing newly placed tiles.
He saw her. For an instant, his eyes lightened with pleasure, and everything in her surged up with joy.
A second later, his carved face turned deadly cold. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Feeling as if she’d walked into an ice storm, she looked away as she regathered her courage. A new bondage table sat across the room. Pretty, all dark wood and leather padding. It was the one she’d seen in the catalog. Her jaw set at the thought of them using her equipment with other women. Never.
And Mr. Grumpy Pants wasn’t going to intimidate her. She set her hands on her hips. “Hiding out?” she asked, her tone frigid enough to match her insides.
