Authors: Cheyenne Meadows
Tags: #contemporary action crime erotic romance
He pulled her into his body and squeezed her tight. "If you change your mind, let me know."
She leaned on his strength for a moment, laying her cheek against his wide chest. As much as she wanted to stay like that for the rest of the night, she needed to finish cleaning up so she could get some much needed rest.
Stepping back, she grinned at him. "For an assassin, you make a great maid."
He snorted.
A flash of humor crossed his face.
Josie mentally patted herself on the back with the small victory. Maybe with a bit more time, she could actually get him to laugh. Her ultimate goal.
Chapter 32
After a decent night's sleep alone in his house, Ghost showered, dressed, and headed to the kitchen for something to fill his empty stomach. Glancing around the house, he found peace, tranquility. Loneliness. The fact surprised him. Never before had he considered such a thing, didn't know the emotion existed within him. Why? Why now? Because over the past several days he'd become accustomed to Josie's voice, her teasing, her energetic presence. The way she looked at him when she didn't think he noticed, with appreciation and awe. She made him feel strong, needed, and worthy. Josie melted his inner ice, soothed the burning volcano deep inside, and brought his dormant sense of humor back to life. Only Josie.
Damn it. I like my life just the way it is.
The words sounded sour to his own mind. He used to, until Josie showed him part of what he had been missing.
He had possessions and money, the ability to go anywhere in the world and do whatever he wanted. Hell, he probably had enough savings to retire for the rest of his life if he so wanted, from years of back-to-back missions and lucrative payments for his effective skills and successes. Working with the Wind Warriors now and again pulled in enough resources for him to live comfortably for the rest of his life without worrying about the ups and downs of the stock market.
If I have everything I need, then why am I missing the little chatterbox?
No. Josie was an assignment, a brief pause in his busy schedule. He wouldn't make a mountain out of a molehill. He protected her, she thanked him. End of story.
Uh huh. Then why am I standing here beating myself up because I miss her?
What could he do? Sure, he could call her up, ask her out. To what end? He didn't have anything to offer. His heart, though somewhat thawed, was incapable of loving again. Lindsay had taken that particular part with him to her grave, leaving him nothing to offer another woman, even if he found one he wanted to take a chance on. His career threw another monkey wrench into the dating plan. He moved at a moment's notice, always on call, waiting for another mission to come down the pipe. Each one could be his last. Such a life and the great potential for his untimely death didn't make for a stable marriage or relationship.
Relationship? Marriage? What the hell?
The words rattled him like nothing else. After Lindsay's death, he vowed never again. Yet here he stood, thinking about the petite blonde who dropped into his life, stood by his side through the days of waiting and attacks, then greeted him like a long lost loved one when he returned. Her courage and bravery under fire impressed him as did her sheer toughness in extreme circumstances. If he decided to be in the market for a girlfriend, she would fit the category of women he'd consider. What was he thinking? She'd be the pick of the litter.
Why else did he return to her apartment last night, bring her food, and help her clean away the last of the debris from the original break-in? Just to bask in her glow once more? To be a good Samaritan and assist her with the heavier objects? To make sure she was okay after such a traumatic ordeal?
Because I care, damn it. Too much.
Yet, how could he take that chance? Pry his heart open and see if Josie fit in.
He pulled a bottle of juice from the fridge, twisted open the cap, and took a deep pull.
The kiss. He chalked her reaction up to upset and vulnerability, exhaustion and relief. However, the moment her lips met his, he should have pushed her away, rejected her, made her understand he wasn't the man for her. Instead, he'd savored each moment, participated fully, and felt something deep inside turn over. The simple act of affection had jostled his previous thoughts about his loner status and planted a craving for more. Just like the impulsive one back at the cabin where fiery passion had come to a head.
His cell phone rang. Picking it up, he checked the caller ID, taking a moment to recognize the number. "Yeah?"
"Ghost?"
Josie's bright voice carried through the line. He hadn't expected her to call so soon, wasn't prepared for another deep discussion about his future. Their future. "Everything okay?"
"Yes. I just need a favor. If you don't mind and it's not too much of a bother." Her voice dropped as if she hated to ask for fear of being an unwanted burden.
"Sure. What is it?"
"My car is still at the FBI building. I need to pick it up."
"No problem." His tone came across a bit harsher than he intended with her basic down to earth reason for calling.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have waited. You're probably sleeping or busy. That's okay. You've done enough already for me, I'll…"
"No, it's fine." He chastised himself for making her feel guilty. "I'll pick you up. When do you want to do this?"
"Really, it's okay. I've asked enough of you. I can just call my boss and get her to pick me up."
"Josie?"
She stopped rambling. "Yes?"
"I'll pick you up. We'll go somewhere for lunch, then I'll take you to your car." He could almost see her mouth opening and closing with his unexpected answer. Heck, he surprised himself, but now with the suggestion sitting on the table, the impromptu decision felt right.
"Okay. I'd like that." She replied in a quiet voice, probably still stunned by the off-handed suggestion.
"I'll be there in thirty minutes."
"I'll be ready." Her tone turned more energetic and cheery. He clicked off with a tiny hint of a smile.
She had no food in the house and no transportation to get to the grocery store. Not to mention the lack of mattresses to sleep on. He only did what any other person would do. Get her a decent meal, then help her retrieve her car so she could regain her independence. The act in itself wasn't a date, not even a first step in a developing relationship.
Yeah, right.
They passed the first step a few days back, and she continually crossed his mind since. While perhaps not official, a generous person could label his experience with Josie yesterday as a first date. They ate, and they kissed. Granted, cleaning the apartment lacked a fun quality, but they hung out together. Today would take a similar path, at least the food part. Kissing was optional, but likely.
Somehow the little minx wedged her way into his life during their time together. Now, he couldn't seem to dislodge her and, more importantly, didn't want to.
* * * *
"What are you going to do today?" He paused at a stoplight, turned his head, and met her gaze. She appeared whole and healthy, although fatigue still covered her face in lines under her eyes. Although she showed no signs of stiffness, he'd warrant she had a few aching muscles from sleeping on the floor after hours of the manual labor of cleaning up a horrendous mess left by a nefarious intruder.
She would have physically felt better if she spent the night at his house, but he couldn't deny her logical reason to confront her fear of staying in her apartment. Maybe he'd mention later she was still welcome to come over and crash at his place. His heart thumped at the thought of Josie under his roof. For potentially several days, until she found a new place to live. The idea both excited and unsettled him. They'd gotten along fine before, but having her move in with him, even for a week, threw his mind into the chaos of indecision.
"I need to buy new mattresses first. A couch, too. After that, I need to go apartment searching." She pushed a stray hair away from her face.
A thought came to him. "Before you go looking for a new place to live, you might call Ryan."
She blinked at him in sheer puzzlement. "What would he know about apartments?"
"The FBI has safe houses and contacts all around this city. He could probably get you a good place at a decent price."
"Oh."
"It can't hurt to ask."
She lowered her chin. "That's just it. I hate to ask since I feel like I'm begging."
He pulled into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant, parked, and cut the engine. Unlatching his seat belt, he swiveled in his seat. Cupping her chin, he gently lifted and turned until she looked at him. "Listen up, lady. I'm only saying this once. You aren't begging, and there's nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it. Hell, you've been through the wringer lately and gave up those jewels for free. The way I see it, you're entitled to a bit of niceness now and again, especially from the FBI."
Refusing to release her gaze, he studied her face and waited patiently for her response.
Slowly, a tiny smile hovered over her lips. "Okay. I'll call him."
He arched an eyebrow.
"Today. Right after lunch."
"Good." Reluctantly, he dropped his hand, but not before brushing his thumb over her chin. "Do you have to work Saturday?"
She shook her head. "No."
"I have to leave tonight for a mission. If I'm back by then maybe we can do something." He didn't have to wait long for her answer.
She beamed. "I'd like that."
His heart melted a fragment more. "Me, too. Now, let's go eat."
Chapter 33
"Wow." Josie stepped into the room, her eyes widened at the luxurious furnishings, the glossy dark hardwood floors, and the ample space allotted to the one bedroom apartment. "It's beautiful, but way out of my price range." She bit her lip as she roamed around, running her hand over the leather sofa, looked out the sliding glass doors leading to a decent-sized balcony on the second floor, and ambled down the hall. The bathroom sported natural colored tile, a bathtub/shower combination, and a sink surrounded by what appeared to be marble, at least the same material she glimpsed in the updated kitchen as she walked around the living area. Finding an expansive bedroom filled with a California king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a large ornate wooden dresser, she knew the beautiful place overshot her budget by at least ten times.
True to her word, after Ghost fed her lunch, she called Ryan, told him the situation, and he promised to check on some things. Her former bodyguard dropped her off at her car and apologized for having to leave so quickly. He would have stuck around, but he had a plane to catch. It seems an assassin's job was never done.
By the time she unlocked her car and slipped, in, Ryan called. Since she happened to be right there, she simply locked the car back up and walked to his office. Ryan loaded her up in his truck with a promise of something nice to show her.
Boy howdy did he have something to show her. An apartment meant for dignitaries and top brass.
Returning to the entrance, she shook her head at Ryan. "It's wonderful, but I can't afford this."
"Yes, you can." Ryan grinned down at her.
She blinked up at him. "Are you crazy? It's furnished with top of the line furniture. The bed is huge. Heck, the appliances are new, and this place is bigger than two of my current apartment put together. I'm a librarian. The career isn't known for high salaries and endless cash."
"The FBI owns the building and allows agents to live here at minimal cost. Considering everything you've been through and done, the apartment manager graciously offered up this place at the same monthly rent you're paying now."
Stunned, she took a moment to absorb Ryan's words, not quite sure she heard him right. "They'll only charge me what I pay now? For this?" She turned and waved her hand to encompass the whole package.
"Yep."
It's too good to be true.
"What's the catch?"
Ryan turned serious once more. "No catch."
"Things like this don't happen to people like me." She protested weakly, already loving the idea of packing her clothes and moving in immediately. After one night on the hard floor, she wanted a more comfortable place to lie down.
"Finding priceless jewels and handing them over free of charge to be returned to their rightful owners doesn't happen to people like you either," he reminded her, tongue-in-cheek.
A sudden thought hit. "Ghost doesn't have anything to do with this, does he?" If he cut some sort of deal with Ryan to pick up part of the cost, she'd kiss him soundly to thank him, then whap him upside the head for daring to do such a thing.
"Not at all. Well, he reminded me of a few things, but that's all."
"What things?"
He shook his head. "Nothing that you need to know about."
"Uh huh."
"So what do you think?"
"If you're telling me the truth and Ghost isn't helping financing this place for me…" She eyed him carefully.
"Not a penny."
"Then I'll take it." She beamed happily.
Chapter 34
Ringing the doorbell, Ghost waited patiently for Josie to answer, his lips twitching at the new living arrangements. When he volunteered Ryan to come up with an acceptable home on Josie's income, he never envisioned this place, an upscale building brimming with Feds, with enough security to scare the most hardnosed burglar away. Not to mention that pretty much everyone living there carried concealed weapons. Anyone with the tenacity to try to break in and pilfer most likely would wind up with the business end of a gun stuck in their face.
The door opened.
"Hi." Josie smiled brightly at him, her light green eyes dancing with happiness.
He read her face and felt something click into place. "Hi, yourself."
"Come on in. I just have to get my purse, but you can check out the new place." Stepping back, she closed the door behind him.
He scanned the room and whistled softly. "Damn."