22. Chapter 21
“Yikes, these are some nasty guys.” Hope looked at what Berlin had pulled up on-screen after running the tattoos, faces, and fingerprints of the guys Bradford and his team had killed.
He was safe, the only thing that mattered.
Though, it was sort of weird that they’d had a place to hide the bodies, but Hope was going out of her way to not ask questions right now. It went against her nature, but she knew when to be curious and when to keep her mouth shut. They were trying to protect her.
“Yep. The fact that they get tattoos to announce their affiliation is stupid, but also helpful,” Berlin said as Hope stepped back from her screen.
The four dead guys were all affiliated with some fringe group that believed in what amounted to anarchy and absolutely no government.
They basically wanted individual militias where they lived—which made no freaking sense.
But she’d learned that sense didn’t often play into the weird fantasies these nuts had.
“Any link to Killeen?” she asked.
“Not that I can find online. Yet. But if there’s one, I’ll find it.”
Hailey cleared her throat much in the same way Berlin had been doing to her earlier.
“Fine, Hailey is helping too.”
Hailey sniffed a little, but grinned as she went back to her computer.
“Would you guys mind if I headed to my room and crashed for a bit?” Bradford was supposed to be back soon and she’d done nothing but worry about him since he’d been gone. She needed to decompress.
“Of course,” Berlin said. “We’ll probably pop a couple of those casseroles in for later.”
“Sounds good.” But she was mostly mentally checked out at this point.
She just wanted to see Bradford, to hold him and know he was okay. He’d texted her and she knew from Berlin that he was fine, but seeing him would hit on a different level.
After stripping down, she took a hot shower, which refreshed her somewhat, but that worry was still buried deep even when she finally emerged from the bathroom in a swath of steam… And found Bradford sitting on the pink cushy chair by the window.
“Hey.” She was moving before she was conscious of it.
“I’m gross and sweaty,” he muttered as he stood.
That was when she saw that he’d even placed a towel underneath him so he wouldn’t get the chair dirty.
“I don’t care.” She pulled him into a tight hug and was grateful when he held her close, burying his face into her towel wrap.
“You smell good,” he murmured.
“You don’t.”
He let out a startled bark of laughter as he pulled back. “You’re not wrong. I need to grab a shower, then I’ll tell you everything.”
She already had some of the details, had heard a shot, so knew something had gone down, but nodded as he disappeared into the bathroom.
As she heard the shower start, she moisturized her arms and legs with lotion she knew Bradford liked, changed into lounge pants and one of her oldest, softest sweatshirts, then lay flat on the bed.
She didn’t bother taking the towel off her hair, because her comb was in the bathroom and she was too tired to mess with it.
So much had happened since she’d returned home, and she felt like she was coming down from a high or something.
Maybe not a high, but… She closed her eyes as she heard the shower continue, pictured his wet, naked body, and tried not to think about what his reaction would be if she decided to join him.
It was just a fantasy, not something she would do, but…they’d showered together before and she’d enjoyed it, thank you very much.
Hope wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when she felt the bed depress slightly she opened her eyes and rolled over to find Bradford sitting on the edge, gazing back at her.
He had on lounge pants but no shirt and she wanted to trace her fingers over his muscular back and the intricate tattoos covering his arms.
“You can go back to sleep,” he whispered as he grabbed a Henley.
“No, I didn’t mean to drift off.” Yawning, saw it was nine o’clock so she’d only been dozing for half an hour. Even though she was still waking up, she wanted to tell him not to put a shirt on. Hell, she wanted to crawl over to him, straddle him, then take his pants off.
“You hungry?” he murmured.
“I’m not sure.” She tried not to stare at him, but it was impossible not to drink in all his hard lines. He’d killed to protect her. That knowledge was buried in her brain now and she couldn’t turn it off.
“How about I bring you some food? I think everyone is doing their own thing this evening. And I’d like some down time with you.”
Her heart rate kicked up at his words—she wanted to spend quality naked time with him. Knew that if she gave him a hint that was what she wanted, he’d have her pinned against the bed. Or wall. Or any flat surface. But…no. No, no, no.
She cleared her throat and stood. “I’ll come with you.
We can eat then retreat back here.” She didn’t want to let him out of her sight.
She might not have seen anyone shot, but she’d heard a gunshot over the live feed and it had thrown her all the way back to Afghanistan when she’d been assigned to his team.
She’d worried about him and the others then as well. But deep down she’d always worried more about Bradford, no matter how capable he was. That hadn’t changed, clearly.
Now…she wanted to thank him for what he’d done for her. Wanted to grab onto him and never let go. But she was terrified of what would happen if things didn’t work out.
Though, the more she thought about it, she already didn’t have him in her life. If she gave in to this, and lost him…she was right back where she’d started.
***
“You want me to sleep on the floor?” Bradford asked as they stepped back into the bedroom. The rental didn’t have enough rooms for them to sleep separately—not that he wanted that.
She gave him a dry look as she slipped under the covers. “We’re both adults.”
Yeah, both adults who wanted each other—and were still married.
She might be trying to keep walls up with him, but he’d seen the way she looked at him earlier.
He was hanging by a thread at this point, barely holding back the need to strip her and pin her underneath him on the bed.
“Just checking. Glad you said no, because I’m exhausted. ”
Her eyebrows drew together as he got in next to her, and in a surprising move, she reached out for him. He didn’t bother even pretending to hold back, simply pulled her close as that desperate need to touch her took over.
“I was so worried about you,” she murmured against his chest, a tremble in her voice.
He loved the way she fit against him so perfectly, the way their bodies fit together. He gently rested his hand on her hip when he wanted to do a whole lot more. But she needed to give him the go-ahead this time. “I’m fine.” He’d already told her more than once, but didn’t mind soothing her again.
She’d had a lot thrown at her in a short period, right around an incredibly vulnerable time.
“I’m a little weirded out by how fine I am with you guys making those bodies disappear.”
He snorted softly. “We’ll make sure they’re found eventually.” They might have to reach out to one of their Fed contacts, but that was a problem for the future.
He simply wanted to savor the present while Hope was in his arms and not worry about any of that shit. And god, she smelled and felt like heaven. That familiar rose oil scent of hers wrapped around him, threw him back to their time in Vegas.
“Berlin told me that Chelsea is fine, likely has no idea someone was pretending to be her,” she murmured against his chest.
“Yeah, from what we can tell she has nothing to do with this. They just used her name since she’s one of your few contacts in town. It was a smart gamble.”
“Yeah, I probably would have gone to her office if I hadn’t known what was going on.” She was silent for a long moment, then said, “I want to go see Kim tomorrow. She had those coordinates. She definitely knows more. I’ll ambush her at her house in the evening when she gets off work.”
“Ambush is a strong word.”
She laughed lightly. “Seems fitting because I’m not going to tell her.” Her grip around him tightened and she scooted even closer until their bodies were flush—and she had to feel his reaction to her now.
Because it was unavoidable with her around.
She stilled for a moment, then rolled her hips against his erection in a slow but very clear invitation.
And just like that, everything else ceased to exist.
“Hope,” he managed to grit out. They couldn’t do this. Not until he was certain it was more than just physical for her.
“Bradford.” Her tone was breathier, inviting.
“We can’t…do anything.” Right?
“Why not?” She leaned back slightly, their faces only inches apart as she looked at him. Her bright blue eyes were dilated, her lust clear.
And it matched his own. “Because…” He had reasons. Really, really, good ones. “You’ll just run from me again. And you have nowhere to go right now. It’ll mess up the dynamic.”
“Not running,” she rasped out.
She was lying to herself, then. “Tell yourself that,” he whispered as he slid his hand down between her legs so that he was cupping her mound right over her pants.
Apparently he had no self-control, even if he wanted to pretend otherwise.
Not where she was concerned anyway. “We’re not having sex,” he managed to get out as she rolled her hips against his hand.
Now who was lying to themselves? Because she might not run tonight, but she’d run later. And he had to have her so damn addicted that she never wanted to run again.
“Okay.” She didn’t look like she believed him, but that was fine .
“I’m just going to get you off,” he growled as he dipped his head to hers, claiming her mouth. Because screw that—if she wanted some relief, he would give it to her.
“I’m getting you off too,” she snapped back against his lips.
And fine, he sure as hell wasn’t arguing with that.