Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 Page 10

  Aside from the rattling windows, the house was silent. Burke had returned with takeout Chinese for dinner. They’d all eaten in the kitchen, the conversation stilted and strained. It felt…weird being in a house that was lived in rather than one that was just used to keep witnesses safe.

  It felt even stranger to know that it was Hunter’s house.

  That he’d actually brought her there seemed outside his character, but maybe she didn’t really know what his character was.

  By the book, but there were other parts of him.

  Things she was just starting to notice, and that she wished she weren’t. Like how gentle he’d been when he was bandaging her knees.

  She paced across the room, her palm itching to pull back the curtain, open the shades and stare out into the wild night.

  She’d felt restless all day, frustrated and discontent. That wasn’t like her. If she could sleep, maybe she could get over her mood, but she was wide-awake at…

  She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. One in the morning. Maybe a cup of warm milk would help her sleep, but she hated milk.

  So, maybe a cup of green tea.

  Did men like Burke and Hunter drink green tea?

  There was no time like the present to find out.

  She crept to the door and eased it open.

  The hallway was dark, no lights showing from the rooms below. The stairs creaked. She knew that either Burke or Hunter was probably awake, probably listening to the creaking stairs and probably wondering what she was doing.

  She made it to the bottom of the stairs and was halfway across the living room when the light went on.

  “What’s up?” Hunter asked, his broad frame blocking the kitchen doorway. He’d changed into faded jeans and a light blue T-shirt, his gun holster strapped to his chest. He looked more like a bodyguard than he ever had and more like a man than she wanted to notice.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.

  “Too much on your mind?”

  “I guess.”

  “That’s not surprising. It’s been a long day.” He crossed the room and cupped her elbow. “How about some green tea?”

  “That’s exactly what I was coming to look for,” she responded. “You must have been reading my mind.”

  “Just watching you for the past few weeks.”

  “I’m not even sure what to say to that.”

  “It’s just part of my job, Annie. Nothing for you to feel uncomfortable about.”

  “Who says I’m uncomfortable?”

  “Your cheeks are pink and your nostrils are flaring.”

  “No, they’re not,” she said, her hand flying up to cover her nose.

  He chuckled and pulled her into the kitchen. “I was kidding about your nostrils, but your cheeks are pink.”

  “You kid?” she asked as she grabbed an old-fashioned teakettle from the stove.

  “Only with people I like.”

  “You like people?”

  He laughed at that, the sound filling the kitchen and weaving threads around her heart. She felt them tugging her toward him.

  Maybe tea wasn’t such a good idea, but going back to the room seemed like an even worse one. More time alone. More time to think and pace and worry and remember.

  “I do like people,” he said as he reached above her head and pulled out a box of tea. His chest brushed her back, the scent of soap and masculinity surrounding her.

  “Especially people who are law-abiding citizens,” he murmured in her ear, and she knew her cheeks were pink again. Maybe fire-engine red.

  “Who says I’m law-abiding?” She ducked away, her heart thumping painfully.

  “Your file.” He took a package of vanilla sandwich cookies from the cupboard. They hadn’t been there earlier. Obviously, Burke had brought them back with the Chinese food. Her guilty pleasure. Even Joe had never known how addicted to the silly things she was.

  “I have a file?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not sure I like that.” She didn’t reach for the cookies, but she was tempted.

  “It’s nothing to like or not like. It’s just what we do.”

  “We meaning the corporate organization that is the U.S. Marshals?”

  “Something like that.” He opened the cookies and ate one.

  “What’s in my file?” She really wanted to know. “Information about my childhood? Do you know that I was suspended from school when I was in fourth grade?”

  “You were suspended?” He eyed her as if he were sure she was lying. “For what?”

  “Protesting. I thought it was unfair that the fifth graders got to go on an overnight field trip and the fourth graders didn’t. I made a sign and picketed the school.”

  “No way.”

  “It’s true. I marched in front of the school door until the principal called my mother. She pulled up in her old Cadillac Seville, and I decided maybe I didn’t need to protest anymore.”

  “I wish I could have seen that, Annie.” He chuckled as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and handed it to her.

  “It wasn’t nearly as impressive as it sounds. I’d tried to get my friends to participate, but they all chickened out, so I was standing out there alone with my sign.” She poured hot water into the cup and dunked a bag in it.

  “A rebel without a cause?”

  “A general without an army.” She sat down at the table, still ignoring the cookies. “It all worked out, though. I ended up meeting Joe because of it.”

  “Yeah?” Hunter glanced at the computer monitor, then poured himself a glass of orange juice. He didn’t ask about Joe, and she could have just kept her mouth shut, kept the story to herself, because it wasn’t something she really wanted to talk about.

  After all, Joe had been the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

  But the words poured out anyway. “My rebellion wasn’t that impressive, but my reputation for it preceded me to middle school. I got elected president of the student body without even running. Joe was vice president. He loved politics and debate. Did you know he studied political science in college?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. He knew how to listen, his body leaning toward her, every bit of his attention focused on the conversation.

  “He had these great plans and dreams. He was going to run for city council and eventually run for the state legislature, but then we got married, and he put those dreams aside so he could support the family. That’s why he was driving trucks for a living.”

  “You’re giving him too much credit, Annie, and I think you know it.”

  “You mean because he was using all his trips to gamble away our life savings?” She sipped her tea, her eyes hot and gritty with unshed tears. “I know what he did, but I don’t think he planned things to happen the way they turned out. I think he really thought he was doing what was best for our family.”

  “That’s because you’re a good person, and you like to see the good in the people around you.” He brushed a piece of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a moment.

  The tender gesture surprised her, and she leaned back.

  “I’m not that good, Hunter. I’m angry just like any other person in my situation would be,” she said, refusing to acknowledge the butterflies that were dancing in her stomach…

  This was Hunter. Not some handsome man that she’d met at church or the grocery store or, even, some online dating site.

  “You never act angry. I haven’t heard you say one bad word against your husband,” he pointed out.

  “What good would it do? He’s gone. He can’t repent or ask forgiveness. He can’t change what he did or try to make things better.”

  “There are plenty of people who wouldn’t care about that. They’d spend the rest of their lives complaining about the wrongs that were done to them.”

  He was right. Her parents had said an earful when she’d told them about Joe’s debt, about his gam
bling and his lies. They’d probably still be saying those things to her if she hadn’t been in witness protection. She’d have to be careful. When the time came, and she was able to contact her parents again, they’d have to watch what they said around Sophia.

  “I’m not one of them.”

  “I’ve noticed.” He settled into a chair, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He had long legs, muscular thighs and an easy way of moving that said he was comfortable in his own skin.

  She was usually the same way.

  Right then, she didn’t feel comfortable.

  She felt…aware.

  Of Hunter. Of herself. Of the space that separated them and of how easy it would be to cross it.

  She fiddled with a dishcloth, wiping down the counter even though it was spotless. “You notice a lot. I’m not sure I like it.”

  “It’s just part of the job, Annie. Nothing to be upset about.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “Because it keeps being true.”

  “Well, maybe it would be an easier truth for me to swallow if you weren’t the one making all the decisions and calling all the shots.”

  “Is that why you jumped out of the car this morning? Because you were tired of letting me take control?”

  “I jumped out of the car because you lied to me, and I realized I had to take care of things myself,” she answered truthfully. There was no sense in trying to deny it.

  He frowned. “Lied about what?”

  “You said that Josh and Serena were taking Sophia to headquarters. I looked out the car window and saw her in the crowd.”

  “Where did you think she was going to be?”

  “In a car, heading away from the fire. Just like we were.”

  “She was on her way to the car. They were up in the apartment when the bomb exploded, remember? They had to take the stairs down with everyone else who lives in the apartment. Serena ran down ahead, got her car and drove around to pick Josh and Sophia up. If you’d done what I told you and stayed in the car, there wouldn’t have been any hitch in their plan or its execution.”

  “If you had a daughter, you would have done exactly what I did.”

  He didn’t deny it, just took another cookie and ate it.

  Her stomach growled, but she wasn’t in the mood for eating. Not even her favorite cookies.

  “Here’s the deal,” Hunter finally said. “You’re a great mother. A really great one. I understand why you felt like you had to get to your daughter, but it is my job to keep you both safe. No matter the circumstances, no matter how worried you are, you’ve got to trust me to do that.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Because you’re a U.S. marshal? That’s not enough for me.”

  “Because I care about you and Sophia, and because I would never lie to you.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” she snorted, turning away because she didn’t want him to see the pain in her eyes and on her face.

  “From Joe?” Hunter asked. “I don’t think his word counted for much.”

  “It did to me. It counted for everything.”

  “He didn’t deserve your trust, Annie. He didn’t deserve the faith you put in him.”

  “But you do?” She swung around, her heart fluttering when she realized that he’d crossed the room, was standing so close she could smell soap and shampoo and feel the heat of his body through her jeans and T-shirt.

  “I’d like to think that I do,” he responded easily, his eyes so dark they were almost black. “I’d like to think that I’ve proved it to you over and over again in the past year. I’d like to think that every time I called you in Milwaukee to see how you were doing and ask if you needed anything, every time I went out of my way to make sure you and Sophia had what you needed, every time I took you to church on Sunday morning, I proved that I wanted what was best for you and your daughter.”

  He had. She couldn’t deny that any more than she could stop the wild throb of her heart when she looked into his eyes. “I think I should go to bed. It’s late, and Sophia will be up early.”

  She sidled past him, would have left the kitchen, but he snagged the back of her shirt. “Running away, Annie?”

  “Going to bed, Hunter.”

  He laughed and released his hold. “Going to pace your room and wait until the sun comes up is more like it.”

  He’d hit the nail on the head, but she didn’t plan to admit it. “You should probably go to sleep, too. We’ve both had a long day.”

  “I’m working my shift. I don’t think I can do that very well while I’m sleeping.”

  “You worked this morning.”

  “Until we know how you’re being found, only four of us will know you’re here. Burke, Josh, Serena and I will be working overtime the next two weeks.”

  So, they were putting their lives on hold until the trial. She’d put her life on hold for a year, and she knew just how it felt to give up time with friends and family for the sake of someone or something else.

  “I’m sorry, Hunter,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Causing so much trouble for all of you.”

  “You haven’t caused anything. As a matter of fact, you’ve been easier to protect than any witness I’ve ever worked with.” His lips quirked in a half smile. “If we don’t count today.”

  “Can we not?”

  “If you promise not to go maverick on me again. I want you safe, Annie. I want to get you through the trial and back to the life you deserve.”

  “What life is that? I don’t think I even know anymore.”

  “A life where you can go to work and church without worrying about having a bodyguard tagging along behind. A life where you can take your daughter to the playground.” He took her hand and pulled her a step closer. “A life where you can be Annie or Angel or whoever you want to be.”

  For some reason, his words made her throat tight and her chest heavy. “Do you think that’s really going to happen? Because, right now, it seems like my life is always going to be just like it is right now.”

  “You’ve been through a lot this year, but it will end. I promise you that.”

  “I don’t need promises. I just need…”

  “What?” He looked as if he really cared, his attention completely focused on her, his hand warm and calloused and, somehow, absolutely wonderful.

  “To go back in time and start over again.”

  That was a truth she hadn’t even admitted to herself.

  Not until that moment.

  “With your marriage?”

  “Yes. No.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I’d like to think that I’d do things differently, but who’s to say?”

  “It would be nice if life had a redo button. That’s for sure,” he agreed, tugging her back across the room and urging her into a chair. “Tell you what. How about you drink your tea, have a cookie and tell me what you’d do differently if God gave you a do-over.”

  He set her teacup on the table and took the seat next to her. Their legs were touching, their arms pressed closer than Annie should have wanted.

  She didn’t move, though. Didn’t back away or try to put some distance between them because sitting there with Hunter felt so much better than anything had in a long time, and she really wasn’t sure she wanted it to end.

  ELEVEN

  Hunter shoved the package of cookies toward Annie and watched while she took two. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her hair spilled over her shoulders. She’d changed into faded jeans and a fitted T-shirt, a well-worn cardigan over it. The sweater didn’t look like something Annie would choose. Dark blue with thick black horizontal stripes, it looked more like a man’s sweater than a woman’s.

  Joe’s?

  Probably, and he wasn’t sure why that bothered him, or why he wanted to drag the sweater off her shoulders and toss it into the fireplace with a starter log and a few matches.

  Or maybe he did know. Maybe he just didn’t want to admit it.

>   “I love these things,” Annie murmured as she bit into one of the cookies.

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “What does that mean?” She watched him suspiciously.

  “You asked me to get you some your first day back in town.”

  “I did?” She looked at the cookie and frowned.

  “Yes. The day after that, you asked for more. I think I’ve bought six packages of those the past month.”

  She shrugged. “As vices go, it’s not a bad one.”

  “I could help you find a different one.”

  “Like?”

  “Target practice. Long walks. Hikes through the woods.”

  “Are those your favorite activities?”

  “When I’m off duty. But we weren’t talking about me—we were talking about you and the do-over you want God to give you.”

  “The do-over that will never happen, so there’s no sense in talking about it?”

  “What would you do differently, Annie? If you could go back, that is?” he pressed, because he wanted to know. Would she say that she wouldn’t marry her husband? Or say that she’d have stayed home the night of the murder, made sure that Joe wasn’t alone? Kept him from gambling?

  “Why do you want to know, Hunter? What’s in it for you?” She looked at him over her teacup, her eyes the crisp bright blue of the summer sky.

  “Does there have to be something in it for me?”

  “Probably. I mean, you’re doing a job, and I’m part of that. Your questions are usually all about helping you do your job better.”

  “This time, I just want to know.”

  She studied him for a moment, her gaze never wavering. “I’m not sure. I guess that I’d just be a little more honest with myself about things.”

  “What things?”

  “You’re full of questions.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What about you? Is there anything you would change about your past?”

  “No.”

  “That was a quick response.”

  “Because I’m careful in the choices I make. I want to make sure that I don’t have regrets.” And that he didn’t give anyone else reason to have them.

  “I thought I was careful, too, but I’m still here, sitting in a stranger’s house, wide-awake at one in the morning because someone wants me dead.”