Cheyenne McCray - Point Blank (Lawmen Book 4) (28 page)

“Hmmm.” Jane didn’t sound like she was interested. “I’ll have to think on it.”

Natasha threw out a number that she knew would be appealing for someone in a small town taking on a part-time job. “I’ll pay you twenty an hour.”

“Twenty?” It was clear Jane was surprised. “I never paid more than ten an hour for my part-time employees. You must be doing well.”

Natasha knew she was close to clinching the deal. “The tradeshows are fairly lucrative, and as long as I can attend them, I can afford to pay you that much.”

“That number doesn’t take much considering at all.” Jane laughed. “I’ll take the position and we can see how it goes and if I like being out of retirement. I have to admit I am getting tired of crocheting Afghans and scarves.”

Relief lessened some of the tension in Natasha’s body. “Fair enough. I hope you’ll want to stay on, but if it doesn’t appeal to you after a while, I’ll find someone else. I just knew you would take care of the place with the kind of pride I have for it.”

“You know me well,” Jane said. “When do you want me to start?

Natasha crossed her fingers. “Thursday.”

“Day after tomorrow? That doesn’t give me much time.” Jane was clearly surprised.

“I have a show in Los Angeles this weekend, starting on Friday,” Natasha said. “I have to get there a day early.”

“You work fast.”

“I’ve been known to speed my way through things.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jane laughed again. “I’ll stop by in an hour and you can show me around so I can get familiar with all your merchandise and how you do business.”

Natasha sank back in her seat, her body going limp. “Thank you, Jane. You’re the best. I’m so thrilled to have you to work with.”

“You’re a good woman, Natasha,” Jane said. “I’m actually looking forward to it now.”

After they disconnected the call, Natasha leaned forward and folded her arms on the table before she dropped her head and buried her face in her arms.

~~*~~

Muted early morning sunlight illuminated the curtains in Natasha’s bedroom and Brooks blinked as he woke. They were spooned together, their bodies tight, her ass pressing against his morning erection.

He nearly groaned at the first thought that went through his mind. All he had to do was slide his cock inside her, and she would wake, warm and pliant in his arms. He raised himself up on one elbow and studied her face. She looked far too peaceful to disturb. He hadn’t seen her features this relaxed since they’d had drinks in the lounge in Denver a week ago.

It felt like a lifetime.

He resisted the urge to stroke her cheek and nuzzle her hair. He breathed in her scent, filling his lungs.

Last night she had already been asleep when he made it back to her home. After removing his Walther and the Sig Sauer he had started carrying in an ankle holster, he’d crawled into bed. He’d wrapped his arm around her belly and she’d snuggled back against him. God, he’d wanted her then and he wanted her now. He always wanted her—in every way possible.

His head ached and his bruised body protested as he eased away, careful to avoid waking her, and slid out of bed. She stirred in her sleep and her brow furrowed, as if thinking of something troublesome. He caressed the worry wrinkles on her forehead with his fingertips. She relaxed and her forehead smoothed.

He still needed to tell her the truth, the whole truth. He hated to add one more thing to what she was going through—she would feel hurt and betrayed. Was there a way to make her understand the position he’d been put in? One thing he couldn’t explain his way out of was the fact that he’d taken her to bed before he’d told her everything.

Christ.

Today. He’d do it today.

He slid out of bed and paused when he saw the butterfly he’d given her resting at the center of the surface of her mirrored dresser. The mirror reflected the crystal that sparkled in the morning light. The moment he had seen the butterfly in the hotel gift shop, he had purchased the piece that had instantly made him think of Natasha. It had been the last day of the show, and he’d had to watch her from afar, but he’d fully intended to find a time when he could be alone with her and give her the gift.

Breakfast sounded good, and he hoped she had more than tofu in the fridge—he wasn’t in the least bit hopeful he’d find any sausage links, but there had to be something he could make.

Thank God being a vegetarian didn’t keep her from drinking coffee. First thing he made was a mug from the one of the pods she had in a rack near the Keurig machine. A Kona dark blend sounded good to him.

It didn’t take long before the smell of coffee filled the small kitchen. It was like some kind of magic potion, and his head already started to clear. Once he’d downed a few swallows, he was halfway back to feeling human again. He left the Keurig on so the water would already be hot when Natasha joined him.

He searched the fridge and freezer, and found a loaf of bread, carton of eggs, block of cheddar cheese, bag of baby spinach, and a package of tofu. He skipped the tofu.

It wasn’t long before the first omelet was made and he started on the next. He felt her presence before she wrapped her arms around his belly and pressed her body against his back, her head on his shoulder.

He poured an egg mixture into the pan. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning.” She yawned and burrowed her face against his back then sighed. “Why didn’t you wake me when you came in?”

“You looked tired.” He shrugged. “You shouldn’t leave the door unlocked.”

He looked over his shoulder to see her smiling. “I wanted to make it easy for you to come in.”

“If you’ll remember, I don’t need a key.” He turned back to the pan and the omelet he was making. “This one is done. I’ll be finished with the other omelet in a few moments.”

“I need coffee before I turn into a gremlin.” She drew away and reached for a mug out of the cabinet. The shirt she wore hiked up her long legs to her upper thighs before lowering again when she retrieved a mug with rainbow-colored butterflies on it. She moved to the coffee maker, picked out a Belgian chocolate-flavored coffee pod, and soon the smell of chocolate joined the aroma of coffee.

“You’d make a hell of a sexy gremlin,” he murmured and she grinned.

He finished making the second cheese and spinach omelet and they sat down at her kitchen table with tall glasses of orange juice and mugs of more hot coffee. She smiled at him as she cut into the eggs. “Thank you for making breakfast.”

“Sorry there’s no tofu.”

She laughed. “No you’re not.”

He grinned. “I don’t think I could ever get used to the stuff.”

“Sure you could,” she said in between bites. “It’s high in protein and takes on the flavor of whatever you’re cooking.”

“I have a thing for texture.” He shook his head. “Tofu just doesn’t quite cut it.”

She laughed. “I’m sure we can find more middle ground. Like eggs.”

Her smile lit up his world and he felt as if anything outside of the moment didn’t exist. He wanted to know everything about her, from the foods she liked and her favorite color, to the mischief she likely got into as a child. When they’d first met, she’d had an air about her that told him she was normally mischievous. He wanted to see that side of her.

She set down her fork and reached for her coffee. “How do you know I love butterflies so much?”

“Your watch and keychain for starters.” He gestured to the butterfly mug and then to the painting on the wall that looked like an explosion of butterflies rising up from a field. “You have them everywhere.”

“I’ve always loved them.” She smiled. “There’s something beautiful in a tiny creature that starts out in one form and then blossoms into another. The beauty isn’t just in the butterfly. It’s in nature’s magic.”

He liked the way she thought about things. “What else do you enjoy?” He shoveled more of his omelet into his mouth. It wasn’t bad at all.

“Anything colorful.” She pushed loose dark hair over her shoulder. “The brighter the better. Color makes me happy.” Her smile dimmed. “Usually.”

He put his hand over hers. “Let’s not think about anything outside this room for now.”

Her eyes were filled with longing as she studied him. “How can I
not
think about what’s happening when it’s destroying my life?”

“Okle won’t get away with this. I promise you.”

She searched his face, as if looking for something. Finally she wiped away a tear that trickled from the outside corner of her eye and nodded. “I believe you. I believe
in
you.”

The simple statements made his heart squeeze.

She raised her chin and shook her head back. “If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

“Australia.” He didn’t hesitate as he pulled his hand from hers and picked up his glass of orange juice. “There’s something about the Outback that appeals to me. I get a wild sense of freedom when I read about it or see pictures.”

“I think I’d like Australia, too, although I’d prefer the greener areas.” She considered the question. “New Zealand is more my style. It has everything—glaciers, huge mountains, a volcanic plateau, rolling hills, a subtropical forest, and miles of coastline with beautiful sandy beaches.”

“Paradise.” He smiled. “Suits you.”

She pushed her plate away and braced her forearms on the table. “List five items always in your fridge.”

“Where did that question come from?” He laughed as she shrugged. “Pork sausage links.” He grinned as she made a face. “Ketchup, hot sauce, butter, and raw carrots.”

“Carrots?” She raised her brows.

“My favorite vegetable. I like the baby ones.” He inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I already know what’s in your fridge. Tell me what’s your favorite season and why. Five reasons.”

“That’s easy. I love spring.” Her eyes lit up. “Especially in Arizona. Why I love it is a no brainer. The weather is mild, wildflowers bloom early, the rain here is refreshing, birds sing happy songs, and it smells like Heaven.”

God, he loved looking at her, listening to her when she wasn’t terrified and sad. He never wanted to see her that way again.

Her expression hardened even as he had the thought.

“I want a gun.” Her words took him aback. “This is a right to carry state. I want one.”

“It’s not as simple as going out and buying one.” He watched her expression. “To get a concealed weapons permit, you have to complete a firearms safety training program, then submit an application to the Department of Public Safety along with your fingerprints. The wait just for processing and approval is at least two months.”

“I know how to shoot—my Uncle Dexter was a police officer and he made sure I knew how to handle one.” She leaned in close. “I want a gun without going through the process—I don’t have time to wait because I might need to protect myself. Arizona is a lenient state. You can get me one.”

Brooks let out his breath. “I’m a Federal agent, Natasha.”

“And you know where to find one that’s right for me.” The determination in her expression told him she wasn’t going to give up. “It will be easier for you to get one without Mark finding out. He’ll know if I try to buy one myself.”

“Honestly, I would be happier knowing you have something to help you protect yourself.” He paused as he worked it through his mind. A thought occurred to him that he didn’t like. He didn’t think Natasha would do it, but he couldn’t discount it. “You have to promise me you won’t go after Okle yourself. That’s not the way to handle this.”

A look of surprise flickered across her features. He’d been right. He’d just touched on a plan she’d been formulating in her mind. She’d been considering going after Okle.

She calmed her features. “I want to protect myself.”

He frowned. “That’s not what I asked. Promise me you will not go after Okle on your own.”

She bit the inside of her lip and nodded. “I promise.”

He had a feeling that she was mentally searching for some kind of loophole and he didn’t want her to have one. “If he comes after you, or has someone else do it, then protect yourself. Otherwise you keep this weapon close, wherever you go, wherever you are.”

Frowning, not at all confident in this decision, he got to his feet and said, “Give me a moment.”

He went to her bedroom and retrieved the Sig Sauer from the ankle holster he’d left on the nightstand late last night. When he was on certain assignments, and he knew things could be going down at any time, he wore athletic shoes instead of western boots. He was able to use the ankle holster to carry the backup weapon and cover it with his jeans.

Still doubting his sanity, he returned to the living room and handed the weapon to her. “I’m going to take your word for it. You won’t go after Okle.”

“I hear you loud and clear.” She set the Sig on the table in front of her. “I need an extra magazine.”

“I’ll get you one. In the meantime, this should be all you need.” He held her gaze. “How well do you know how to handle that pistol?”

She picked it up and demonstrated her knowledge of the weapon, including how to remove the magazine and insert it. “I told you, my uncle trained me so I know what I’m doing. Going to a firing range with him was a normal activity. As a matter of fact, I learned how to shoot with a Sig.”

Brooks tried to let tension out of his muscles. He felt wound so tight his head ached. “It’s been a while since you’ve shot a gun, hasn’t it?”

“It’ll be like getting back on a bike.” She made sure the safety was on and deposited the Sig inside her purse. The gun was registered to him and he could get in a shitload of trouble for giving it to her. But it was more important she was safe.

“I need to talk with you about another topic.” Brooks caught her attention. “I want to monitor your cell phone. All we need is your permission.”

Her eyes widened. “That would be an invasion of my privacy.”

“Yes.” He couldn’t argue with her. “But as long as you stick to conversations with Okle, it won’t be. It will help us build a case against him.”

She nodded. “There’s really no question. You can monitor my phone.” She rubbed the back of her head, ruffling her hair. “That reminds me.” She told him about a conversation she’d had earlier with Okle when he’d called her. When she finished, she said, “Is Christie someplace safe now?”