Authors: Liz Lee
His voice was a scratchy combination of Deep South and Mexico. “Ma’am.” He tilted his head in Callah’s direction then turned to Riley. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I take a seat.”
Callah wasn’t sure of a lot in life right now, but she knew absolutely that this man didn’t much care if she invited him or not. He was sitting.
Across the table, Riley looked ready to kill, and she put her hand on his knee to let him see she needed to have this conversation. “I have plenty of questions. If you’re willing to answer them, you’re welcome to sit.”
Nodding toward her, Riley didn’t say anything as the man sat across from her. Instead he watched the man with narrowed eyes.
“We might as well get the formalities out of the way. I’m Logan Douglass. Your father and I served together in the first Iraq War.”
No way. “You knew my father way before the first Desert Storm. You’re in a picture from my fifth birthday.”
The man’s smile looked more like a grimace. “Well, let’s just say your father and I served together on several occasions. I’d lay down my life for the man.”
Callah swallowed the sudden ball of tears crowding her throat. “You’re just another on the long list of little lies my family forgot to let me in on.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, your father has done everything in his power to keep you safe. From the day you were delivered into his care, he’s gone out of his way to give you a secure life.”
So much for that. “Mr. Douglass, I hope you’ll pardon me for saying this, but I’m not feeling all that secure. I can hardly believe the stories I’ve been told, and now you want me to believe you’re here as some sort of protection, but you can’t tell me what’s going on.”
The granite look on his face didn’t change as he nodded once. “That’s correct. Just suffice it to say, all is not as it seems.”
Okay. Enough of the
Fight Club
crap. “Mr. Douglass?”
The man nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
“If you want to sit here and tell me what the hell’s going on, you’re welcome to stay. But if you’re going to sit there and add to the questions that are ruining my life, I’m going to have to kindly ask you to leave.”
Chapter Eleven
As Riley watched the color stain Callah’s cheeks, he wanted to applaud. It was about time she got good and angry. Beside him, Logan Douglass, if that was even his name, cleared his throat. If Riley didn’t know better, he’d think the man actually smiled at Callah’s response.
“I’ve been in Burkette watching you for two weeks.”
Callah raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Two weeks? This only started a couple days ago.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, this started before you were born.”
Okay. Another suspicion confirmed. Logan Douglass knew exactly what was going on. Callah practically snorted at his words. “Yeah. I totally get that. And let me guess, you’re here to protect me.”
The man looked down at his hands folded neatly in front of him on the red and white-checkered tablecloth. A scar ran down his left index finger from nail to knuckle.
For all his politeness, this was a dangerous man. His words confirmed Callah’s theory. “I’m supposed to keep whoever wants you dead from succeeding in that mission.”
“Great. Peachy.” Callah practically snorted the words in disbelief. “Someone wants me dead and you’re another baby sitter. In case you missed it, I’ve got Riley on make-believe hero duty pretty much around the clock and supposedly a couple federal agents, too. What I need is answers. Who’s after me and who’s after my dad?”
The man met Callah’s eyes and Riley felt the temperature drop a good twenty degrees. “If I knew that answer, ma’am, this would all be over.”
Callah didn’t look reassured. “And what happens if you figure that out too late?”
The man barely showed emotion. “That’s not a concern. Just remember, everything that’s been done was with your safety in mind.”
And with that, the man stood, placed his hat on his head and disappeared out the front door.
Riley watched him go then looked where Callah sat, her head clasped in her hands.
“Callah.” She dropped her hands and blew out a long breath, and he reached across the booth, covered her hands with his. As he did, he tried not to care that she thought of him as a make-believe hero. God knew she was right to think of him in those terms. “He’s one of the good guys, babe.”
The derisive sound she made let him know her thoughts on that score. “How can you say that, Riley? He sat there talking about this as coldly as if he were talking about paint chips or grocery shopping. He didn’t even blink when he said someone wants me dead.” She pulled her hand from his and rubbed her temples.
Riley couldn’t let her ignore what they’d learned. “He cleared your father.”
“If anything he said was true.” She continued looking at the table, and he knew he had to let it go. She wasn’t willing to see the positives yet.
“You’re right about one thing,” he said as he recaptured one of her hands. “He is one seriously scary dude.”
Callah closed her eyes, dropped her head against the booth seat, but she didn’t take her hand away this time. “With a seriously screwed up story. I feel like I’m living in some alternative reality. Like any minute I’m going to wake up and realize I fell asleep with the TV on and this is all an
X-Files
episode.”
He wanted to make her smile. “Callah, I hate to break it to you. But I’ve been with you for the whole ride and not once have we encountered aliens.”
Callah looked at the empty doorway, her fierce frown still in place. “Would you swear to that, Riley? Because that man could very well have been from outer space.”
“I think there’s a good chance your dad is involved in some serious stuff.”
“He’s sitting in a prison cell right now on treason charges. Yeah, I’d say he’s involved in something beyond my scope of understanding. I bet it’s just coincidental that someone dropped me on his doorstep. Sure.”
Riley shrugged, determined not to argue. Not to take her father’s side in this. Not to make Logan Douglass into some mysterious savior when they had no idea about him or his agenda. “I’m not saying that. Until you get to talk to him, we don’t know what’s coincidence, what’s not. But now we know Douglass is on your side. That for one makes me feel a little safer.”
Callah shivered in her seat. “Well it scares the crap out of me. And frankly, I’m pretty tired of being afraid.”
He could see that. Could see the dark circles around her eyes again. The worry lines on her forehead.
“I wish I could do more.” He ran his finger down her palm and up again.
Callah smiled sadly, hopelessness filling her eyes as she pulled her hand from his. “You whisked me away to your lake house then brought me home. You took on the FBI. You wrote my story. You helped me forget everything this morning when I thought I’d go crazy from it all. What more are you going to do, Riley?”
He could take her mind off this entire mess again. Could let them both pretend that the attraction they felt for each other was normal. That he was something more than a make-believe hero. “What more are you willing to let me do?”
When she smiled, the fear and exhaustion on her face disappeared. She dragged her index finger through the condensation on the outside of the cup in lazy lines, and his mouth went dry. “Damn, Callah.”
She laughed. “You have the most one track mind.”
No sense denying it. “I just assumed we were talking about sex.”
“Are we?”
“Do you want to be?”
She bit her bottom lip as she met his eyes and he saw the honesty there. “I don’t know. I just want all this to be over. And it’s not going to be. Nothing we do will change that. So, I guess, yes. Yes, I want this to be about sex. I want you to take me home right now. Make me forget again. Make me feel something other than helpless.”
His body hardened in response to her words. She was vulnerable. Confused. So damn hot. He could see the want burning in her eyes. Could feel the awareness even though they weren’t touching. They needed to get the hell out of the diner.
He’d pay for this later. Pay for letting this happen when she was so seriously scared. But he couldn’t deny her. Not now. “Your wish is my command, Princess.”
Second verse same as the first. The song lyrics played through Callah’s mind as she watched Riley across the cab of his pickup and wondered why she was even playing with this kind of fire.
They’d already been in this place, this halfway between amazingly hot sex and the brutal reality of the moment. Last time hot sex won. And what good did it do?
He took a corner too fast, and she shivered as she remembered exactly what good it did.
He saw her watching him and misinterpreted her thoughts. “I’d kiss you if I could, but this truck takes two hands.”
She wanted to fill the silence, to say something. But what?
Thank you?
That was the way to fan the flames of desire, all right.
He took the final corner to her house and pulled into the alley, avoiding the press out front. She started to open the door, but he tugged her across the cab to his side. “You’re way over there and I’m way over here. Too much space.”
She half fell into him, grabbed his shoulders and looked into his eyes. Saw something hidden. Some reluctance on his part. Seeing it she hesitated, almost changed her mind, but then his eyes darkened with desire and she told herself this was what they both wanted.
She pressed her lips to his and almost immediately, the kiss turned hungry, carnal. She could barely breathe, but somehow she pulled her mouth from his, pointed to the house.
“Inside. Fast. I don’t want to see this on the news tomorrow.”
With shaking hands she somehow unlocked the door. Everything in her wanted to turn to him, feel him, taste him. “I’m not used to this, Riley,” she said as she wiggled the key in the lock, willing it to turn.
Riley pressed his hand over hers, and she swore she could feel the thrumming of his pulse as he steadied her hand. The lock tumbled and released.
Riley followed her through the door. Closed it. Wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest as his breath touched her ear. “I’m not all that used to it either, Callah. Relax.”
His hands brushed down her arms. Soothing. Soft. Wonderful. She let her head fall back against his shoulder. Felt his lips on the side of her neck and wanted to crawl inside him. He turned her to face him, met her eyes with his. “We don’t have to rush this.”
His husky voice brushed across her skin and she wanted to laugh, but she settled for telling him he was wrong. “Yes we do.”
She tore her shirt off, threw it across the couch, pulled his face to hers, met his lips with hungry kisses that showed how ready she was.
She pushed his shirt over his head, ran her hands over his bare chest. Kissed the hard planes and muscles and laughed when he practically growled, “Damn woman, for someone who doesn’t do this sort of thing, you’re doing a fine job of it.”
She laughed. “Shut up and kiss me, Riley.”
And then she couldn’t say much of anything other than
oh
and
ah
and
yes
as he moved his mouth to one breast, then the other. When she tried to undo her bra, he grabbed her hands with his, held them tight and continued the onslaught with his mouth.
She cried out as pressure built inside her from every direction.
He clasped her wrists with one hand then reached up to free her breasts. Finally his mouth was there again. Hard. Hot. And still he held her hands captive. She wanted to touch him everywhere, but he refused. Pushing her back slowly, he walked her down the hall toward her bedroom.
She started to move to the bed, but he stopped her with his free hand on her waist. She opened her eyes, ready to protest, but he pulled her in front of him yet again. His chest pressed against her naked back. He was hard and ready, and she wanted him now.
“Open your eyes.” He whispered the words against her ear, and she shivered as she did as he asked.
And there they were. The tousled, sexy woman in front of her looked like someone else. Not her. It couldn’t be. She bit her bottom lip and smiled as her eyes met his in the mirror’s reflection.
“For a good girl, you look pretty damn bad right now, Callah Crenshaw.”
“You’re talking again, Riley.”
He ran his lips down the side of her neck, watching her watching him in the reflection. Naked and exposed and loving every minute of it. He held her wrists behind her back with one hand, and she didn’t even try to protest as he used his free hand to palm her breasts, kneading one, then the other. Using his fingers to tweak the nipples until they beaded hard and sharp and dark. She gasped, never taking her eyes from their reflection.
“So damn sexy.” He whispered the words against her neck as his tongue flicked against her thrumming pulse and she pressed against his hardness, whimpered her need.
Slowly, he brushed her bottom lip with his thumb and she bit his soft skin. He laughed low and easy and she watched, mesmerized, as he slid the bitten digit in his mouth then used its wetness to tease her nipples even more.