Chapter 5
Forget ducks in a row, I’ve got llamas losing their minds.
Hudson discovered Scout in the kitchen plating her own food, and still found himself irrationally annoyed that she’d asked him to stay in her home.
He was glad she had because it would make it easier to keep an eye on her, but come on. He was a hitman. He killed people for a living. And she’d invited him inside. His only concern was keeping her safe, but she didn’t know that.
At least she knew how to use a rifle and had angry llamas looking out for her, but she needed more than them. Cameras, security, some mean dogs.
A hitman on retainer.
“Smells good,” he murmured, setting the basket on the countertop and his duffel on the floor next to the high-top chair.
The smile she gave him he felt all the way to his core.
She’d showered and changed too, was no longer in her adorable overalls but a pair of worn jeans and a formfitting T-shirt that showed off how lean and strong she really was.
Her hair was down around her shoulders in damp waves and she looked… delicious.
That was the only word he could think of, because he wanted to eat her right up.
Get it together.
“I’ve got some beers, I think. And some wine,” she said as she opened the nearby pantry door. “Malbec?” She held out a bottle.
“Wine is good, thanks.” He began unpacking the food she’d carefully put into a warming tray. She’d even included llama-themed napkins. Because of course she had.
“I’m sorry about the hot water. I swear it’s always something lately.”
“Since your grandfather died?” he asked softly, wanting to know more about her.
Sighing, she nodded. “Yeah. Everything just got away from me.”
“That happens when you’re grieving.” He knew that more than anyone.
“I hear personal experience in your words,” she murmured.
“I’ve lost friends.” More than anyone should.
But that was the way it was with black ops.
He didn’t do that anymore, had retired years ago and basically fallen into the same profession.
But he made his own rules now and got paid better.
He was probably going to hell if there was one, but he still tried to live by a code.
To keep the scales balanced. He chose his contracts carefully, researched his targets and only went after people who he thought deserved it.
“I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry about your grandpa. Tell me about him.”
Faint surprise flickered in her expression, but she gave him another one of those soft smiles as she poured them both a glass.
“He was larger than life. He raised me. My dad died when I was young and my mom ran off when I was twelve. She’d never been around much anyway.
” She shrugged and he didn’t see any telltale hurt in her expression.
Her words were just matter of fact. “I moved away for college, but ended up coming back because I love this place so much.”
Now he saw pain in her blue-green eyes.
But she continued. “I got a lot of good years with him. He loved animals and the earth itself and taught me to respect nature. He was just a good man with a big heart…” She trailed off and he winced as she turned away, dashed away the wetness on her cheeks.
He had the foreign urge to comfort her, to pull her into his arms and…what? Just hug her? He was better at killing than anything else, but yeah, a hug would be nice. Unfortunately he didn’t have the right to touch her. Yet.
Maybe asking about her grandpa hadn’t been the best idea. “How’d you end up with that menace, Lucy?” He moved the basket out of the way before setting his plate next to hers.
She snort-laughed as she settled next to him.
“A neighbor a few farms down wanted to get rid of her, said she was too much trouble.” Scout shook her head, a hint of anger in her expression.
“And of course she was too much trouble, she’s a herder and they need to be useful.
And more importantly, they’re very social animals.
They need friendship, essentially. They also need routine, and Lucy wasn’t getting any of that.
Once she moved here, it was clear that she’s a leader.
Clover and Patricia love her and would follow her anywhere…
which is a little frustrating,” she said on a laugh.
“But I love my girls. They watch out for the goats and sheep and keep an eye on things around here.” She cleared her throat.
“What about you? You just travel all the time? Live on the road and do handyman stuff?”
He nodded, not wanting to lie to her. So he was as honest as he could be. “My parents were essentially nomads, traveling from farm to farm around the country. My mom homeschooled me.”
“That’s an interesting way to live.”
He’d always wanted more structure, to go to a school with kids his age. That lifestyle had stunted him in some ways. Though he was grateful he knew how to survive in ways others didn’t.
“Interesting is one way to look at it. Once I was old enough, I joined the military. Did that for a few years and now I mostly travel Florida taking handyman jobs. I own a boat that I live in during my downtime. But I also take that out too when the travel urge hits.” Not exactly true.
He could settle down—maybe even craved a place to call his own—but he hadn’t found that home yet.
The place that called to him. So he kept moving, kept taking contracts, kept trying to fill that hole.
From there they talked for another hour, ate the incredible dinner she’d made, and finished the bottle of wine.
When he started doing the dishes, she seemed almost startled but didn’t stop him.
Instead she cleaned the rest of the kitchen as he put the dishes up.
A part of him he didn’t know existed liked the calmness of just being in the kitchen with her like this.
“Should I check on your girls or anything?” he asked as she draped the kitchen towel over the sink.
He could see touches of Scout everywhere, from the array of plants and herbs on the kitchen windowsill, to all the little llama decor.
Including a picture of her and her llamas framed on the fridge.
There were also a handful of her and the man he assumed was her grandfather, and more with her and friends on vacation, and some probably from college.
He tried not to stare at the pictures of her in a tiny yellow bikini with her friends who might as well not exist next to her.
“Oh, no, I’ll go see them one more time before I go to bed, but they’re settled for the night.”
“Will you grab me before you head out?” he asked.
She paused at his question, then nodded. “Yeah. It’s because of my neighbors, right?”
It was definitely because of her neighbors. “I’m here, so you might as well take me with you.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded at him, and he hated the fear that flickered in her gaze.
Yep, he’d be digging into her neighbors even deeper and probably paying them a visit in the middle of the night. Maybe he’d take Lorna up on her offer for backup. He simply didn’t know enough about the situation yet, and that was something he hated.
He almost always walked into jobs with all possible information. Without good intel, you got dead fast.
And he’d been beating the odds for a very long time. He wasn’t going to screw up now on a small farm a couple hours north of Miami.
Mostly because he didn’t want to let Scout down.
A woman he barely knew, but who’d gotten under his skin in less than twenty-four hours.
Hell, it hadn’t even been fourteen at this point and he already couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Imagining her naked. The sounds she would make as he brought her to climax.
This was not good. Or maybe it was. Hell, he didn’t know anything at this point.
When he was in the privacy of the guest room he’d chosen on the first floor—the same one he’d been held captive in—he called Lorna.
She answered on the second ring, the sound of a familiar Christmas song in the background. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just curious who was free for that backup offer. Not sure that I even need it,” he added.
“Sarah always gets restless around the holidays.”
“Hmm.” He liked Sarah, a retired hitman who was a bit of a psycho when the situation called for it.
But she looked nonthreatening, had that whole innocent mom or older auntie vibe going on.
Right up until she shoved a blade into your throat or put two bullets right in your head. “Okay, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You sure you’re good?”
“Definitely.” He was good as far as dealing with any threats, but where Scout was concerned…
He wasn’t sure about anything other than he was already hating the idea of walking away from her.