Two
Brant paced the clearing. Paced? More like prowled.
Kara had agreed to meet him at the trailhead at five o’clock, and it was already three minutes after. Which meant she likely wasn’t coming.
How could he blame her?
He was a fucking idiot. What kind of fool all but told the woman he loved that he’d killed a man?
The realization brought him up sharp, and he froze.
Loved?
Where had that come from? He’d never been in love. There was no doubt that he cared for Kara. But anything more?
Facing the parking lot that was empty except for his SUV, he plowed a hand into his hair.
God. His life hadn’t been the same since he met her.
A year ago, he’d been out for a fifty-mile bike ride when he got caught in an unexpected summer squall. He’d pedaled to the closest shelter, her family’s inn.
He’d been smitten from the first moment he saw her. Her eyes had captivated him, the blue reminding him of spring wildflowers he’d once seen in Texas. She’d done more than give him a free drink to warm up; she offered a towel and encouraged him to stay until the storm passed.
They’d chatted for a few minutes while she wiped down tables. Even though he told himself she was just being polite, her interest in him seemed genuine. After that, he changed his route so that he could see her every week.
Once they started seeing each other, he could no longer imagine life without her. In her bed, after she sweetly surrendered to his carnal demands, he slept hard, demons no longer chasing him.
If it hadn’t been for a final, essential mission, he wouldn’t have left her.
The fact that he planned to tell her the truth meant he loved her. And more, trusted her.
Fuck.
This morning, he’d looked deep into her eyes and seen pain there. Guilt clawed at his conscience.
In the distance, tires crunched on gravel. When he recognized the steel-gray vehicle, he exhaled. She’d come after all. Dear God, let it be the first step toward her forgiving him.
Careful not to crowd her, he waited for her to kill the engine and open the car door.
When she stepped out, desire shot through him. She smelled of something sweet. Vanilla maybe. But it was laced with something potent. Promise.
Her half smile made him think of the future. “I’m glad you came.”
With her hand, she shaded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. “Did you have doubts?”
“Yeah.” Then he tried to take the moment. “I was afraid I’d have to drink the bottle of wine by myself.”
She laughed. “That would suck.”
“It would.” Raw honesty wrapped around his comment.
“You mean that.”
“Yeah.” He never again wanted to experience the kind of loneliness that shot through him when he’d realized she’d moved away.
A breeze whispered past them, ruffling her long blonde hair.
He struggled to suppress the urge to gently tuck the wisps behind her ear.
At one time he would have done it without thinking.
But they were no longer lovers, and he didn’t have the right to that kind of intimacy.
“Shall we? I figured we’d hike to the lake, have dinner.
Maybe watch the sunset. I have flashlights for the walk back, if needed. ”
“Perfect.” She used her remote control to open the back of her vehicle. “I don’t get out as much as I used to, and I miss it.”
Within a few minutes, they’d both shrugged into their backpacks and headed into the forest.
The trail was mostly single-track, and they took turns leading. But since they weren’t next to each other, conversation was difficult.
Less than a half hour later, they emerged into a clearing, and she stopped beside him. The lake glistened in the late-afternoon sunshine. A squirrel dropped something it had been gnawing on and scampered into the brush.
“It’s breathtaking.”
Brant exhaled. This moment, things were right in his world.
“Did you really bring a bottle of Malbec?”
“And a corkscrew.” He shucked his backpack and began unpacking it on the nearby table.
“I’m impressed.”
He pulled out two travel wineglasses and filled them before offering one to her. “Cheers to…” Uncertain, he fumbled his words. “Us?”
“How about to getting out in nature for a few hours?” Staring at the lake, she sipped her drink.
Clearly she wasn’t going to make this easy. Fortunately he was up for the challenge.
While she wandered down to the water’s edge, he finished setting up their picnic.
A few minutes later, bottle in hand, he joined her. “Refill?” When she nodded, he topped off her drink, then sat on a large rock next to her.
“Is Brant Gibson your real name?”
He’d been prepared for almost anything, but not that specific question. “Yeah.” He turned to face her.
“I can’t find anything about you on the internet. Not even from one of those deep searches that promise they can find anyone.” Her hand trembled as she put down her wine.
Brant reined in his natural urge to wrap her up and soothe her.
“As far as I can tell, you don’t exist.”
“And yet you trust me enough to be here with me, in the middle of nowhere.”
“Lilliana knows where I am and who I’m with. If I don’t check in with her by ten o’clock, she’ll call the police.”
“Smart.” Fuck, he was proud of her.
“We’ve done a lot of things together.” Twin streaks of red blazed across her cheeks. “And you’ve never hurt me. At least not physically.”
He winced. If she held a dagger, she couldn’t have wounded him more.
“I work for a company called Hawkeye.” This was more than he’d told anyone, even his brother. “We provide protection.”
“What kind of protection?”
“Anything that needs guarding.” Assets. People, priceless artifacts, secrets. “I’ve never lied to you, Kara. I was as honest as I was allowed to be.”
“You said you were a teacher.”
“An instructor.” The distinction was minor, but important. “Tactical driving and firearms.”
She blinked.
“Hawkeye has a training facility on several hundred acres. It’s not too far from your family’s lodge in Nevada. Where we met.”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me why you abandoned me.”
With care, he chose his words. “It was an unexpected mission.”
“In the middle of the night?” Skepticism knitted her eyebrows and dripped from her question.
Where to begin? How much to reveal? “There was a case three years ago. We were charged with protecting the transportation of”—big fucking missiles—“something important. We were sold out.” Brant picked up a flat stone and tossed it, skipping it across the water.
“A fellow agent didn’t make it back. The night I left, we got a lead on the bad guy.
For me, it was personal. I needed to be part of bringing him down. ”
“And you couldn’t say anything to me? You didn’t trust me? After I gave you my body, my—”
The gift of her innocence. Her heart?
“Everything you asked for. I held nothing back from you, ever.”
Her whispered admission eviscerated him.
He skipped another stone, then he remained silent until the ripples subsided. “The team needed to move quickly.”
“You never called.”
“I fucked up. Big-time.”
“Something we agree on.”
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Not once since he left home at sixteen had he needed to consider anyone else when making decisions. “But I can promise you it will never happen again.”
She exhaled a small breath, and tension seemed to drain from her shoulders. “Did you bring strawberries like you promised?”
“Organic, even.” He stood and offered his hand.
After a tiny hesitation, she slid her palm against his. He’d forgotten how slight she was, how perfectly her body fit with his.
Brant drew her up, and he never wanted to let her go. “Kara…”
She tipped back her head. “Yes.”
Like a man dying of thirst, he claimed her mouth.
At first he was gentle, then as she surrendered, he devoured her, tasting the sweetness of wine on her tongue.
But there was something different also, a determination that hadn’t existed before.
In order to deserve her, he had to be a better man, and he was ready to make promises he intended to keep.
For some time afterward, he held her, stroking her hair, breathing deeply for the first time in months. He’d craved this kind of connection. “The first thing I did when I returned to Nevada was sleep for eighteen hours.”
“And the second?”
“Went to your cabin.” He’d pounded on the door, looked in every window.
A woman who introduced herself as the manager informed him that Kara no longer worked there. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”
She reached for his scar, and he let her.
“It happened in South America.” For a while, his teammates weren’t sure he’d make it. “Thoughts of you got me through.”
Her touch was light and healing.
“Where are you staying?”
“The Old Jackson Motel. I think it was remodeled sometime in the seventies. Orange chair. Shag carpeting.”
“I know the place.” She grinned. “Threadbare towels.”
“The worst. They only gave me one, and it’s not big enough to go around my waist.”
She allowed her gaze to meander down his body, reminding him of the way she’d looked at him months ago. Desire mixed with hunger. Instantly his cock hardened in demand.
“How about we eat that picnic at my place?”
Dare he hope?
“I’m hungry,” she admitted. “For something other than food.”
God in heaven. Fuck.
“Just tonight.”
Brant Gibson was a greedy man, but at this moment he was willing to take anything she offered. It was more than he could have hoped for. And it was an opportunity to give him the chance to convince her they belonged together.