Page 38 of Ranger Devotion

Annie recovered and shook her head. “There’s no way Evan is involved in this. None. He can’t be.”

“Evan and Seth were close. Best friends. Maybe he wants revenge for what happened.” His mind whirled. “At the bonfire, Evan helped break up the fight. He took an elbow to the eye, and it started bleeding. He couldn’t go after Seth.”

“So he decides to start killing people two decades later?”

“Anger can fester for a long time. Brooke planned the reunion. Evan would’ve known every detail, could’ve ensured everyone on the target list was here.” Tate continued to tick off the connections. “Brooke specifically asked me to come. She said Evan wanted to see me, but since I’ve been here, he’s been strangely cold. He knows Marcus, and Evan was alone when the attack at the cabin happened. It took a while for him to return,”

“Because he got a message from Dwayne.”

“Which he could have easily spoofed to himself.”

“No.” Annie sliced a hand through the air. This time her anger was genuine. “These are my friends you’re talking about. Evan and Brooke have been nothing but kind. They’ve never given me a reason to doubt them.”

Tate hesitated. He kept his voice gentle, knowing he was touching a wound he’d helped create: that Annie couldn’t trust the people around her. “Evan never mentioned Marcus. In the infirmary, after we were attacked, he didn’t tell us about Seth’s older brother.”

“Neither did I. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know he was a special ops soldier. Evan does, according to Caleb. And if he’s in contact with Marcus…”

The color drained from her face. Tate crossed the room and gathered her into his arms. He hated the idea of Evan being a part of this almost as much as Annie did, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—lie to her. Not even to protect her.

She shuddered against him. “Evan’s still angry. About what happened to Seth. He told me so.” She lifted her face. Her eyes were bright with distress, and a tear dropped from her lashes. “But I can’t believe he would do this. Not Evan.”

“Then don’t.” Tate gently swiped the tear off her cheek. “Your ability to believe in the goodness of others is a strength, Annie. Not a weakness.”

A faint smile touched her lips. His gaze involuntarily dropped to them before lifting back to her eyes. The moment stretched. Neither of them moved. Tate searched her face, trying to work out what she was thinking. Or feeling. He longed to kiss her, but he didn’t want to push.

His hand was still on her face, cupping her cheek. Tate brushed his thumb against her silky skin, and Annie’s breath hitched. She leaned closer, and then hesitated. “Things are a mess…” She was tripping over her words, as she always did when she was in her head. “I don’t know…what this means….”

“I know.” He accepted it. This might be all he ever got.

For now, it was enough.

Tate kissed her.

EIGHTEEN

Annie leaned into Tate.

His mouth was warm and his arms held her steady. Butterflies rioted in her belly as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss. This wasn’t like their first. It was slow and deliberate. A decision. A choice. Annie gave herself over to it, letting everything around them disappear. There was only this. His hand cradling the back of her head like she was something precious, the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palm, and his mouth on hers. It was tender and passionate.

It was also undeniable. Annie couldn’t pretend this was a mistake anymore. A byproduct of adrenaline and stress and fear. No, these were feelings she’d harbored since high school, but had buried under a pile of hurt and anger. A wall Tate had chipped away at bit by bit over the last two days with his kindness and his understanding. His patience. Comforting her after she’d found Kayla. Working with her to escape from the cabin. Standing with her against Preston.

Tate pulled back, slightly breathless. So was she. Annie waited for the stab of regret, but it didn’t come. Instead, she smiled and teased, “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

He chuckled. “I don’t like to give up all my secrets, but I will say…” He brushed her mouth with his again. Brief. Gentle. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone else.”

Her insides melted, but it was followed by a pinprick of doubt. She stiffened slightly, and Tate noticed. His smile faded. Those probing brown eyes searched her face, and understanding dawned. He released her with a sigh. “I said too much.”

“No…” She fumbled for words. “I’m sorry, Tate. I want nothing more than to believe you.”

“But you don’t.”

“I have doubts.”

He didn’t look away. “I know. The timing is awful, and we’re both under a lot of stress, but you’ve asked me to be upfront. And I’d like to be, if you’re willing to listen.”

Her heart picked up speed. She’d avoided things long enough.