CHAPTER 28
Special K
I watched it happen. I watched the battle play out on her pretty face. Boots has a lot more to say and she wants to confide in me, ask for my help. But she just won’t do it.
She believes she can’t.
I stare at the closed door to the cabin, wondering what the hell kind of situation she’s gotten herself into. The burden she carries is heavy, that’s obvious. I detect fear in her eyes—terror, really.
And though telling me her real first name was a significant step, that was as far as she was willing to go. Not an inch further. Frankie’s secrets are tightly clenched in her fists, and she’s under the impression that I can’t offer her a shoulder to lean on.
She’s wrong, but what do I expect?
She doesn’t know me. And though I’ve willingly opened myself up to her, she has no way of knowing what I’m capable of. Sure, she’s probably impressed that I was a SEAL, but she doesn’t have the first clue what comes with the acronym.
That I can take anyone, anywhere, in any environment on land or in water.
That I can play three-dimensional chess and stay several moves ahead of nearly any opponent.
And though my specialty is intelligence gathering, I’ve got off-the-chart skills in unconventional warfare, special reconnaissance, and direct actions including sabotage, raids, ambushes, and demolition.
If she’s in grave danger, then she couldn’t have landed in a safer place if she tried. Four equally skilled men reside just down the mountain, on Yosemite Ranch. My brothers and I can handle anything.
I was taken aback when Boots brought my family into the conversation, though. When she told me to walk away and pretend I never met her, the hair stood up on the back of my neck and my body stiffened in alarm.
The peril surrounding Frankie is palpable. It’s real. And she believes the danger is so severe that it can somehow put my family at risk.
That’s sweet of her to worry, but there’s no chance in hell I’d let that happen. I won’t let danger get anywhere near her or my family. No matter what—or who—is the source of that danger.
Not on my watch.
When I told her she was safe with me, I meant it.
I get to work unloading the last few things from the trailer and placing them along the front wall of the cabin. As I do, I hear branches crackling and snapping in the periphery, and I know that whatever’s moving around out there is watching me.
And it’s got some size to it.
I scan the tree line, looking for the greenish-gold eyeshine that will indicate a coyote or mountain lion, the blue-green flash of a red fox, or the yellow-red of a bear. I scan all along the area where I heard movement, but I see nothing.
Feral hogs don’t give off eyeshine, so that may be what I’m dealing with. Which wouldn’t be great. Nothing’s more rageful than a wild boar under the impression that its territory’s been invaded. Or one that’s caught a whiff of Aunt Phyllis’s meatloaf but can’t get close enough for a taste.
I turn to repack and zip up the insulated bag when I see Frankie’s revolver in the dirt next to the tree stump, reflecting the firelight. She might feel safer with it at her side, but I don’t want to disturb her rest.
I walk to the door and lightly rap my knuckles against the wood. “Frankie, I’m placing your gun just outside here if you want it. I’ll be here by the fire. Goodnight.”
I’m barely turned around when I hear the latch open. I look over my shoulder to see her standing in the lantern light, blond hair falling to her shoulders in strands of shimmering gold. When she raises her gaze to mine, I gasp. Her big blue eyes sparkle with tears. Her dark lashes are wet.
Oh, Frankie.
I spin around to face her squarely.
Gazing up at me, eyes wide with vulnerability, she drags the tip of her tongue along her ruby-red bottom lip, then sinks her top teeth into its soft, plump flesh.
“Thank you,” she whispers, lowering her lashes.
I watch how her beautiful breasts move under my sweater, the faint outline of their hard nipples impossible to miss. I hear the soft sound of her breathing.
In.
Out.
I’ll die if I can’t touch her again, if I can’t experience the crush of her mouth against mine. I want to feel the weight of her ass in my hands, and I want to cup the perfect handfuls of her tits in my palms and bury my nose in the crook of her neck.
But I don’t make a move.
It’s her choice. I told her I would not kiss her again, and I’ll keep my word, even if it kills me.
All I can do is pray that she speaks her truth, tells me what she wants. So I can give it to her.
Time hangs between us, frozen, her gaze still lowered, my heart pounding against my ribs. Earlier, as we sat by the campfire, I felt the electric jolt when her hand brushed mine. I feel it now, though contact isn’t even necessary. Her nearness throws off so much energy that my skin sizzles.
It’s all I can do not to reach out and lift her little chin so that I can see all of her beautiful face.
And then I feel it—the barest brush of her fingertips against the top of my hand.
Her slim fingers then extend, clutching the edge of my palm as she takes a step back. She gently tugs me inside the cabin.
The instant Frankie raises her eyes to mine, I catch fire, from head to toe. I’m on fire for her. And I don’t care if I burn to a crisp.
I advance a few more steps, hovering over her as her soft hand tugs me inside. I steal a quick glance at the mattress, so inviting, where she lay just moments ago.
I’m looking forward to making her scream with pleasure in that bed.
I drop her hand and slip both my arms around her slender waist, gathering her close. She lifts her face to mine.
“Oh,” she breathes.
Only moments ago, I told myself that I had no plans for Frankie, no expectations.
I do now.