Various States of Undress (22 page)

“Baseball? Why?”

Jake just smiled again. “Really. You’re going to insult me further by playing dumb?”

Realization hit and her heart sank to her stomach. There was only one reason that Patrick Fulton would have found out so quickly about Jake’s past. Jake’s dad had gotten involved.

But she was numb—panicked—and she did exactly what Jake had just implied. She played dumb, hating herself for every word that came out of her mouth.

“Oh my
God
. You think I asked him, my
dad,
to convince you to quit your job? That’s ridiculous. The last time I spoke with my dad, all I could think about was how to summon the courage to tell him I was planning to quit school. I
told
you about that conversation.”

“Oh, I remember.”

“Then why are you so pissed at
me
?”

“Let me just ask you a question. How is it that the president of the United States just
happens
to know that a new member of his daughter’s Secret Service detail used to play college baseball for the University of Texas?”

“He
knows
that? I didn’t tell him, so how did—”

“And,” Jake cut her off, “get this: the president also wanted to know why I didn’t go pro when I had the chance, since my father encouraged me to take my shot at the Major Leagues.”

Carolina didn’t answer, but her heart jumped when she understood what Jake had just said. His dad had wanted Jake to play baseball. His dad hadn’t pushed Jake to be an agent. She glanced at him, a thread of hope forming, but then her heart sank down to her toes at the betrayed look on his face.

“Oh, Jake.”

“Yeah, so you can imagine my surprise.” He shrugged. “Or not, as the case may be.”

“I’m so sorry.” She stepped forward.

He folded his arms. “It’s a little late for sorry.”

“I . . . I had no
idea
your dad would call my dad. I thought if anything, your dad would call
you
.”

“Well, he didn’t. He rarely does. He called
your
dad instead, but obviously not until after you called
my
dad.”

She frowned. “But how did your dad possibly call my dad? No offense, but it’s kind of hard to get in contact with him.”

“It’s not like my dad is just some average Joe, Carolina.”

She blinked at the ridiculous turn the conversation was taking.

“I know that. Neither is mine.” She attempted a smile. “But your dad’s name actually is Joe.”

Jake didn’t smile back. “Yeah, it is.”

She stared at him. “But . . . so your dad wanted you to play baseball? Why didn’t you? I thought you said that pleasing him was why you chose the Secret Service.”

“I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

He stared back at her. And then he yelled at her. “What about this don’t you understand? It’s about service. Secret
Service
. Damn it, Carolina. You of all people ought to be able to get it. But maybe life on the other side is just too insulated for you to care.”

“I care! How could you think that I don’t?”

“People who care about each other don’t fuck with each other.”

“Excuse me?” She smiled in astonishment.

“When did you decide to go through my phone to get my dad’s number?” He threw up a hand before she could answer. “No, I have a better question. When, exactly, did you decide that it was okay to meddle with my personal life?”

She gazed at his accusing face and then looked at the floor. “I never intended to meddle. I just did it.” She paused. “I just . . . I want us to be together. Being with you is the most important thing in my life. And calling your dad was the only thing I could think of to do.” She nodded and smiled again, painfully aware that it was inappropriate. But in times of stress, that stupid bobblehead-smile was automatic. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yeah. I can see that. Nothing about this is funny, Carolina.” He brushed by her and left the bedroom.

She followed. “I know it’s not funny. You do realize that I didn’t ask your dad to make that call, don’t you?”

“It hardly matters now.”

“You’re certainly acting like it matters.”

Jake stomped through the kitchen and checked the alarm pad by the front door. He gave her a wide berth and checked the back door too. Then he grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter and walked to the foot of the stairs. Only then did he turn around, and when he did, the look on his face made what was left of her heart shatter.

It was his Secret Service mask, firmly in place. She knew, on instinct, that it wouldn’t budge again.

“Jake,” she whispered.

“I’m going upstairs to get some work done if you don’t mind me using the desk in the bedroom.”

“No, I—”

“Thank you. Please stay away from the windows, and please let me know if you want to leave the cabin.”

He started up the stairs, but hesitated.

She took a step forward, a hand pressed against her lips.

Jake turned around. “When you decide what time you’ll be going to bed tonight, please let me know. I’ll need to arrange my own sleep to accommodate your protection.”

He looked straight into her eyes, his expression completely pleasant.

“My protection.”

“Yes, Miss Fulton. That’s why I’m here.”

He turned and jogged up the stairs.

T
HE WHIRRING, CHOPPING
noise of the approaching helicopter was the most horrible sound Jake had ever heard. It was insanely loud, but more than that, it was heartbreaking, because it signaled the end.

Still, he raised a stiff arm in greeting and walked to the edge of the porch. The air was so cold that even though he’d only been outside for five minutes, his face felt frozen, drawn down into a permanent frown. A defeated face—defeated by the cold and by his own inability to control himself and do his damn job. The job that he had chosen over everything else . . . and what was he supposed to do now that he’d sacrificed everything for it? Quit?

Hell, no.

The president hadn’t intimated that Jake should quit serving his country. He’d just talked about baseball as if they were two buddies sitting on the Truman balcony and sipping beers at sunset. Like that would ever happen. In fact, the idea was such an impossibility that the thought had never crossed his mind until now.

He walked down the steps, shielding his eyes from the velocity of wind created by the chopper, which sprayed three hundred and sixty degrees of snow as it descended. He grimaced as some of that snow splattered across the front of Regina’s cabin, knocking the wreath on her door to the ground. There would be hell to pay for that, he suspected. But at least the chopper would have a safe landing. He’d gone out earlier to de-ice the helipad, and the entire time he’d been laying out the melting agent, he could feel Carolina’s gaze on him from the bedroom window.

Or at least he thought he had felt it. Maybe all he felt was her pain, because he felt it too. He’d caused it, after all. And when she found out that he’d asked for reassignment? She’d be in pain all over again, and that would be his fault too.

He could stop that, though, before it even began. He could go back inside and tell her he intended to quit his job. Today. This could be his last day on the job, couldn’t it? And then . . . then what? He’d be an unemployed civilian with no access to the woman he loved. He’d have thrown away his career and though the media wouldn’t exactly know why, some of them would put two and two together when Jake Baxter, the agent who usually showed up in all the photos taken of her, was suddenly out of the picture—right after having spent time with her in a secluded cabin. The pain he’d cause her would be far greater than it was at this moment.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it—now was the time to do his job to the best of his ability. He shaded his eyes and watched as the chopper dropped slowly and then settled onto the helipad. A minute later the rotors slowed, and the door opened.

Courtney Evans stepped out, hunched over and barely recognizable in a parka with a hood. She jogged to the edge of the pad, gave him a brief wave and then began to wade through the snow. He stepped off the porch and met her halfway across the clearing. She was breathless.

Jake shook her gloved hand. “Where’s Charming Charlie?”

“He’ll be along in a minute. I left him back in the chopper to grow a personality,” Evans answered.

Jake smiled. “Not gonna happen. That guy wouldn’t know funny if it smacked him in the face.”

“Oh, he’s all right. Just takes his job very, very seriously.” Evans raised an eyebrow. “Kind of like someone else I know. Devoted to duty.”

Yeah, right.
Jake had been so devoted to duty, that he’d managed to spend his entire assignment in bed with his protectee. And somehow, amidst the euphoria and guilt, he’d managed to fall in love with her too.

He nodded at Evans. “Rules are there for a reason. Nobody said the job was going to be fun and games.”

“Yeah, well, it’s fucking freezing out here,” she blurted out. “Right this minute, I hate the job.” But her dark eyes snapped with humor, and she punched Jake on the shoulder. “How are you?”

“Ready to get warm,” he replied through stiff lips. “Let’s go, huh?”

He
was
cold, but more than that, it made him nervous to be away from the cabin—away from Carolina—for even five minutes.

“Yeah, gotta keep moving. Cold sucks, doesn’t it?”

“I thought you grew up out here,” Jake said as they trudged across the clearing toward the cabin.

“Now you know why I left.”

Jake grinned, and just as he started to comment, a loud screech made him jerk his head to the right. Next to him, Evans whirled around, her gloved hand slipping into her coat pocket.

“It’s okay,” Jake said quickly. “It’s just the caretaker.”

He pointed at Regina, who stood outside her front door in nothing but a fuzzy bathrobe and slippers. As he watched, she reached down, snatched the mangled wreath from the ground and shook a finger in their direction. Then she disappeared back inside, slamming the door behind her.

He chuckled.

“Oh, shit. I’ve heard about her,” Evans said.

“Regina? She’s harmless—just a bit feisty. And old.”

“Man . . .” Evans began to shake her head, but Jake held up a hand.

“She’s fine, Courtney . . . an old family friend. Carolina adores her.”

“Ah, Miss Fulton. How is the pretty princess?” Evans asked as they walked toward the porch.

Jake bristled, but didn’t say anything for a moment. “Fine, as far as I know.”

“I see. There’s something you’re not telling me, though. Why did you ask for reassignment? Did she turn into a bitch overnight or something?”

“No. My request for reassignment doesn’t have anything to do with her. She’s kept to herself. She’s been relaxing, working on photography.” At least part of that was true.

“Shit. I wish I had time to lie around for days on end and take pictures,” Evans huffed, climbing the porch steps.

“She’s on vacation. Isn’t that what people are supposed to do when they’re on vacation?”

Evans sighed. “Yeah. I’m being cranky, sorry.” She shrugged and pulled back the hood of her coat. “I just didn’t want to be in Wyoming at all, and now I’ve been stuck in my hometown for
days
. My mom’s been driving me absolutely bonkers.”

“Well, don’t take that out on me,” Jake said with a smile. “Or on Care Bear,” he added. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

Evans nodded, serious now. “That asshole, Roger. Nobody deserves him and despite my big mouth, I’m really happy for her that she dumped him before it was too late.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Jake nodded enthusiastically and when Evans gave him a funny look, he turned to the door. “Ready?”

“Just a sec.” Evans cupped her hands over her mouth. “Carpenter! Paging Charles Carpenter!”

As if by magic, Charlie staggered into view. Evans chuckled.

“You’ve got him whipped, don’t you?” Jake asked.

“Whipped how? We’re not . . . you know. That would
seriously
be against the rules.” Evans gave him a funny look again.

“I didn’t mean that. Calm down, woman.”

But Evans just continued to stare at him. “I was right. There’s something going on with you.”

“No, there’s not.”

“Yeah, there is. You look like you’re in pain or something. You look . . . sad. What’s up with that?”

Jake’s stomach flipped over. “I’m not sad. Shit, Evans! I’ve been on duty for days on end. I’m tired. I’m cold. I’m ready to get as far away as humanly possible from this place. It’s the frozen version of hell on earth, and I’ve been bored out of my fucking mind.”

Just as he finished his little tirade, the door flew open and Carolina stood there, smiling, and his breath left his body.

She was beautiful—so beautiful. Her hair lifted in the breeze and her eyes were warm and gracious. He knew that smile was just a facade, but it was so close to being real that he smiled back automatically.

Then her gaze flicked over him briefly, and he knew for certain that she’d heard his words just then—words that had probably been like a knife twisting into her back.

“Carolina . . .” he said softly, and then snapped his mouth shut.

Shit.

He took a deep breath and went with it. “Carolina, you remember Agent Evans, yeah?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Evans, things are a lot more casual out here than they are in DC. We dispensed with “Miss Fulton” a long time ago.”

“Oh, okay. Hi, Carolina. How are you?” Evans said.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” Carolina answered smoothly. She looked at a point somewhere over Jake’s shoulder.

Evans smiled and glanced at Jake. “Um. May we come in?”

As if startled out of daydreaming, Carolina stepped back suddenly and waved them forward. “Of course. How are you, Agent Evans?”

“I’m fine. It’s Courtney, by the way.”

“Okay, Courtney.” Carolina walked into the kitchen. “Sorry you got dragged up to Wyoming only to be stuck in Jackson. Hope you weren’t too bored.”

“I was at my parents’ house, so yeah, a little bit bored, if you know what I mean.” She paused. “I guess you don’t, since your parents live at the White House.”