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Damn, even after having the most satisfying sex ever, I still want her. I’m already getting hard again.
“What?” I manage. “Tell me before my dick won’t let you.”
She swallows a laugh. “I’m not going anywhere, and nobody can make me. I promise I’ll be careful.”
My heart sinks as I kiss her nose.
“I don’t want you getting hurt. You’ll come right back after this bullshit ends.”
“I won’t.” She arches, pressing her hips tighter against mine. “I’m with you, Quinn, and that’s the safest place I’ll ever be. I can’t let you face this alone.”
A weird pride fills me, knowing she feels safe and loved in my house.
If she’s gonna be that stubborn, well…
Whatever.
I’ll make it work. Ensure she’s nothing but safe and secure.
Another Siren kiss from her seals the deal, and she runs her hands down my sides.
“Could I interest you in another workout before dinner?”
“Darlin’, kindly shut up.” I grin. “You know I’m already interested.”
And just like that, we melt back into our passion, and round two is just as mind-blowing as round one.
The next few days are as close to paradise as any I’ve ever known—even if they’re also so tense it’s a battle not to snap at everything.
Lazy mornings spent checking goats, watching Tory exercising in the barn—now with a newly installed net I picked up from a farmer who used to moonlight in a traveling circus—and making love to her whenever I damn well please.
Our days and nights feel natural, so right, like I’ve found something I never knew I wanted.
Peace.
Too bad it’s an illusion.
Drake’s flyover with the chopper found signs that somebody’s been staying at the old Maddock place.
The buildings are old and falling down, but he’d spotted two trucks parked under some trees near where the overgrown driveway ends.
A red Chevy and a beat-up Dodge, out there more than once.
He’s also fixed the cameras at Granny’s place. Sure enough, some bastard cracked them open and removed both batteries.
He’s moved them, and so far, they haven’t been tampered with again.
Nothing unusual has happened there, either, other than the work crew making good progress on Granny’s remodeling job.
Hardly any comfort.
But the cameras at my place haven’t picked up anything worrying either, and the goats are just chewing away at the dairy farm with no new interruptions.
Some nights, when everything seems so distant and Tory’s in my arms, I wonder if I’m making more out of those incidents than I should.
Fuck no, you’re not, my gut tells me.
Bat Pickett’s playing a slow, careful game. Undoubtedly trying to lull me into a false sense of security.
Just like the bloodthirsty beast they named him for on the streets, something I always thought was just a stupid-ass play on his real name, Bart, till I read his file.
Now, I get it.
He’s gonna show up soon, no ifs, ands, or buts.
I get a hard knot in my stomach every time I think about Pickett exiting his cage, throbbing with this twisted need for revenge the whole time he was locked up.
Goddamn.
This whole thing feels as off as the costly bust with Jake. Why?
I can’t put my finger on it, just like I couldn’t with what went down with his brother. That’s another reason I’d taken the sabbatical my supervisor offered after Justin’s death, and then made that break permanent.
It wasn’t just the guilt that chewed me up and shat me out. The day I brought Laura Franklin her husband’s badge and broke the news about Justin scarred my soul for life. She deserved to hear it in person, from a friend—a friend who couldn’t save her man’s life.
The guilt, the helplessness, it hurt. So did my fear that I thought I’d lost it.
Missed something critical about the Pickett operation that might’ve spared Justin’s life, and the poor woman who tried to get away from her abuser.
Maybe that’s why I want action.
Now.
This waiting game is driving me insane.
For Tory’s sake, I’m trying to keep things normal. That’s why I take her out and treat her like the lady she is.
I glance at her as I park the truck at the Purple Bobcat, and my heart skips.
She’s so damn beautiful in the moonlight.
Some days, I find myself doing nothing but staring at her when she thinks I’m not looking—especially while she’s working out on her silks.
The girl’s been dancing a lot for exercise, too. She’s so talented, so graceful, I’m awestruck while watching her.
“What?” Frowning, she flips down the sun visor to look in the mirror. “Do I have something on my face? In my teeth?”
“Worse.” I flip the visor up. “You’re stunning, and I can’t help but stare.”
Laughing, she leans over and plants a quick kiss on my lips.
“You sure are good for my ego.” She opens her door. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”
Grady’s bar is hopping tonight, and we’re lucky to snag the last booth.
