Authors: Brenda Novak
“John took what he wanted for his own place, Owen chose a few keepsakes and Robert got most of the furniture because it was better than the junk he had in that old trailer. The rest they wanted to sell or give away. But it upset Grandpa to think that all his worldly possessions would be gone. So I packed them up and put them in the spare bedroom of the old cabin. Every once in a while I haul a box to the nursing home for him to go through. He really likes that.”
“I can see why. It brings back fond memories and makes him feel secure, as if the things he cares about are still around, waiting for him.”
Cain raised an eyebrow at the smile that spread across her face. “Why are you smiling?”
“You know how to take care of the people you love,” she said quietly.
He scowled to hide his embarrassment at the compliment. “It’s no big deal to store that stuff. I’m not even using the cabin.”
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you understand the small stuff that means so much.”
For a moment, Cain forgot his stepfather was in the room. He even forgot what he’d recently learned from Owen and Robert and what it might mean. Forgot that he’d ever slept with Karen, that he felt partly responsible for Jason’s death, that he still missed his mother. As deep as all of that ran, for this one second, it didn’t
touch him. Couldn’t touch him. The look on Sheridan’s face—as if she saw only the man he wanted to be and not the flawed human being he really was—protected him from all the mistakes, all the bitterness and grief, of the past.
A powerful desire to make love to her swept through him. But it had nothing to do with her physical beauty. There were plenty of beautiful women in the world. She had something else, something that promised him a more profound satisfaction.
His heart began to pound as their eyes met. He wanted her, and she knew it.
Her lips parted, but whatever she was about to say was lost when Karen stood up and shouted at John, “You can go straight to hell! Don’t ever call me again!”
Surprised, Cain turned along with everyone else in the restaurant to watch her storm out.
When Sheridan emerged from the shower, she couldn’t hear the television anymore. Cain had gone to bed. He’d turned off the lights. Except for the one in his bedroom. And he’d moved her suitcase in there with him. Which let her know where he expected her to spend the night. After what had happened to Amy, he wasn’t taking any chances. He was keeping her
very
close. But she wasn’t sure she could tolerate another night of sleeping chastely by his side. She already knew she’d lie awake, sensing his every move while dying to touch him.
But her alternative was to go to her own room. And she didn’t really want to be alone, either.
After blow-drying her hair, she wrapped a towel
around herself and went into his room to get some clean clothes. Then she changed into her nightie in the bathroom and climbed into his bed.
Because he hadn’t moved or spoken while she was preparing for bed, she thought he was asleep. But he wasn’t. He changed his position as she straightened the covers. She thought—even hoped—he’d pull her to him. That glitter in his eye at the restaurant had revealed his hunger. But he didn’t act on it. He faced the wall.
“Do you have enough blankets?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
In the silence she could hear the sounds of the forest. The forlorn hoot of an owl reminded her of the night she’d awakened to find a man in a ski cap digging her grave.
She moved a little closer to Cain. “Good night,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond. But when she moved closer still, and came up against his bare back, he rolled over and pulled her toward him so she could rest her head on his shoulder.
He was wearing his boxers; she could feel the fabric against her leg. She had nothing to worry about.
Shutting her eyes, she reveled in the smooth skin against her cheek. This was better. This was perfect. A girl couldn’t ask for anything more. But memories of their lovemaking intruded.
Quit denying yourself…quit denying me
, he’d said.
She lay there, barely breathing for probably fifteen minutes. She was waiting for the desire to dissipate, for Cain to go to sleep.
But it was no use. She knew what she wanted, and she knew she was going to take it.
Lifting her head, she pressed a kiss to his chest, then his neck and jaw. And finally she found his mouth.
Sheridan’s hair fell around Cain’s face, silky soft, as she leaned up on her elbows and touched her lips to his. It was a light kiss, sweet and unintrusive, but it surprised him that she’d initiated a kiss at all. He never expected her to make the first move; he thought she’d play it safe and go to sleep, and he’d been determined to let her. Instead, her hands moved over his chest, touching, seeking, testing him to see if he’d give her the response she needed.
His body responded, all right. But he held himself in check, touching her only as lightly as she touched him, giving her plenty of time to explore, to let the desire build. He’d made love to her twice; she seemed to want to be in charge this time.
She kissed him again, grazing his lips with the tip of her tongue as she did. With a helpless groan, he threaded his fingers in her hair and let her kiss him as she chose, which she did so gently he felt a sort of exquisite longing he’d never experienced before.
More
, he thought.
Give me more.
But he resisted taking control.
“You taste good,” she murmured. “And you feel good, too.”
Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw as he fought the urge to roll her beneath him.
Go slow
. He’d never been this desperate for a woman. He felt like he had to
take what he could fast, right now—while Sheridan wasn’t trying to reserve part of herself for someone else or for later or for never.
Afraid the opportunity to make love to her while she was this open to him might disappear, he slid his hands up her nightgown, massaging her back. He was so damn eager for the clothes to come off, but he wanted her to decide when that happened.
She didn’t seem to be in half the hurry he was. Straddling him in her panties, she slowly ground her hips against him.
He put his hands on her waist to hold her still for a moment, just until he could stop shaking and his heart could slow a little. But then she bent forward and opened her mouth, kissing him deeply, the way he’d wanted her to the other night. Then he knew his heart wasn’t going to slow.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to be inside you.”
She pulled back to look at him, and he thought he read confusion in her eyes.
“We’ll do it slow later,” he whispered. “I promise.” And the next thing he knew, the clothes were gone.
“I
wouldn’t have pegged you as a premature ejaculator,” Sheridan said.
Cain couldn’t help laughing at the teasing note in her voice. “That was a pretty pathetic performance,” he admitted.
She grinned down at him, her teeth glinting in the darkness as she played with his hair. “You’re lucky I don’t kiss and tell. That could ruin your reputation, Mr. Granger.”
“Hey!” He scowled. “It’s not over yet.” He reversed their positions, rolling her onto her back, but she clutched at his hair, stopping him when he bent to kiss her breast.
“What if I want more of the real thing?” she challenged.
“You might have to be patient for a minute.” He kissed her cheek, her neck. “But I can make sure you enjoy the wait.”
He knew she was only giving him a hard time. He even liked the sassy flirting. But he was determined to turn the tables on her, to make her gasp and moan until she couldn’t remember that she’d ever had a complaint. But then the dogs began to bark, and he heard a car in the drive.
Someone was outside. At this time in the morning? He checked the alarm clock. It was after three.
His heart started pounding again, but for an entirely different reason than it had a few minutes ago. After the attack on Sheridan in the forest, he had no idea what might be coming at him. He yanked on his boxers and grabbed the rifle he kept in his closet. “Get under the bed and stay there until I come for you,” he whispered and headed for the door.
Cain stood sideways against the wall between his front door and living room window, peeking through the blinds. He didn’t recognize the car, but he couldn’t get a good look, either. The headlights nearly blinded him.
A second later, the lights went off but whoever was driving it didn’t get out right away.
That made him very uneasy. What the hell was going on?
He heard some scurrying in the bedroom. “You’re not under the bed?” he snapped at Sheridan.
“No. I’m calling the cops before you get hurt.”
He wanted to order her back to safety, but he figured she was doing the right thing. “Then stay down.”
Finally, he heard the car door open. Or he thought he did. It was hard to tell with the dogs yelping like mad. Cracking open the front door, he poked out the muzzle of his rifle. “Who are you and what do you want?” he called.
“Drop the gun,” a voice returned. But it wasn’t a man’s voice. It was a woman’s.
Completely baffled, he swung open the door a little wider. Yep, that was a woman. She was crouching behind the open door of her car, pointing a handgun at him.
He didn’t lower the rifle one inch. “Who the hell are you? And what’re you doing here?”
“I’m looking for Sheridan Kohl.”
Sheridan slammed down the phone before she’d even finished dialing. “Skye?”
“Stay back,” Cain warned. “She’s got a gun.”
“It’s okay.” She hurried toward him. “I know her.” Shoving the muzzle of his rifle toward the ground, she flipped on the porch light. “It’s me, Skye. I’m coming out!” she yelled and then she flung open the door.
“Sheridan?” the woman cried.
Cain wasn’t about to let her go out there alone. He joined her, carrying his gun as she walked out with her hair mussed, wearing her nightie, which was on wrong side out, and her panties.
The woman slowly stood and lowered her weapon, but the expression on her face suggested she wasn’t happy with what she saw. Her eyes moved between the two of them, obviously focusing on their lack of appropriate attire. “Let me guess. This is Cain Granger.”
Sheridan nodded.
The woman Sheridan had called Skye muttered something under her breath as she put her gun in what looked like a police-issue shoulder harness. “I was afraid of that.”
“So that’s it? You’re leaving?” Cain asked, leaning against the doorjamb while she packed her clothes.
Sheridan kept her eyes averted. She didn’t want to see him standing there in nothing but a pair of jeans, didn’t want to admire the way his hair fell across his forehead. She’d only want to touch him again if she did. “It’s time.”
“Time for what?”
Skye was sitting in the car, waiting for her outside. She had to hurry. “Owen told me I’m your ‘bird with an injured wing.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m capable of flying again. And I need to get out on my own.”
“But you don’t have to go tonight. It’s late. Why not have your friend come in? Then we can all get some sleep.”
He’d washed some of her clothes—and folded them and put them in a dresser drawer. She scooped everything out and dropped it in her suitcase. He’d taken good care of her. He’d cooked and cleaned and nursed her and bathed her. And there’d been moments when he’d made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before. But that was part of the problem. She was so vulnerable when it came to him. “Where would Skye stay?” she asked. “In the guest room?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
She straightened and faced him. “And where would I sleep, Cain?”
“You could sleep with me if you wanted. It’s not as if she’s your mother. Or as if she doesn’t already know we’ve been together.”
Sheridan couldn’t sleep with Cain while Skye was in the other room. She’d be too embarrassed. Sheridan knew she was grasping for something she couldn’t catch, that she was asking for trouble. She’d been avoiding reality by not calling her friends. But now that Skye had arrived, the fantasy was over. She had to stop taking crazy, unnecessary risks. “I have to keep my mind on why I came here
in the first place,” she said. “I have to find out who’s been trying to kill me, and then I have to go home.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Then sleep on the couch.”
She shut her suitcase, left it on the bed and slipped past him to get her things from the bathroom. “We can’t go on like this.”
He followed her, watching as she gathered her toothbrush and makeup. She hadn’t realized it until that moment, but her toiletries, her soap and deodorant and shampoo, were so mixed up with his it was almost as if they belonged there, as if she’d been settling in for good. “Like what?” he said.
“Condoms are only 85–98 percent effective.” She knew that because she’d looked it up on the Internet yesterday. “If we continue sleeping together, which we would if I stayed here, we could wind up creating a baby, even if we continue to take precautions. And I already know how you’d feel about that.”
“How do you know how I’d feel?” he asked with a scowl. “We’ve never even talked about it.”
“What’s to talk about? I’m twenty-eight. I’d keep the baby. That should be enough to scare you right there.” Finished in the bathroom, she waited for him to move so she could return to his room for her suitcase.
“Scare
me? If that happened, I’d support the baby,” he said. “I made that decision before I ever touched you.”
“Well, I don’t want to become another woman to whom you feel obligated.” It was better to leave him wanting more, better than ending the relationship on a note of bitterness. Or anger. And it had to end. She’d be
returning to Sacramento. There was nowhere an affair with Cain could go, anyway.
She started to drag her suitcase from the bed, but he reached around her and picked it up. “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” he said.
“Not necessarily. It’ll just…be better if Skye and I take off tonight. You and I both know this…
thing
between us wasn’t serious. It was more of a—” she laughed uncomfortably “—a relapse, I guess. Now I’m well enough to move on, I need to do it. This had to happen eventually.”
“Where will you go?”
“The motel, if we can rouse anyone to rent us a room.”
The scowl that had descended a few minutes earlier remained.
“I’ll be fine.” She stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. That fleeting brush of their lips was her one concession to the sudden ache of longing. It was goodbye. “Thanks for everything,” she said, offering him as bright a smile as she could manage.
He rubbed a hand over his face, sighed audibly and carried out her suitcase.
Cain sat on the porch, watching the taillights of Skye’s rental car disappear. He couldn’t believe Sheridan was actually leaving. One minute he’d had her naked body pressed up against his own. The next she’d dressed, packed all her belongings and climbed into the passenger seat of her friend’s sedan.
Once the noise of the engine faded, he let his dogs out of their pen to keep him company. With Sheridan’s attacker still on the loose, he feared for her safety. But
the gun-wielding Skye Willis had insisted, in no uncertain terms, that she could protect them both. And she’d come all the way from Sacramento, so it wasn’t as if Sheridan could just tell her to quit worrying and go home. Sheridan needed to spend some time with her friend, to explain.
Maybe she’d come back, he thought hopefully. But deep down, he knew that probably wasn’t the case.
This had to happen eventually
.
“I don’t think I like Sheridan’s friend,” he grumbled to Koda, whose tail thumped the floorboards of the porch. Recently, he hadn’t given his dogs as much attention as they normally received. He couldn’t imagine
they
were too broken up about seeing Sheridan go. But he felt strangely bereft. Even cheated.
So here he was, alone with time to think. About the man in the ski mask. About Jason and John and Owen and Robert. About Owen hiding that gun in his cabin. Cain believed Owen when he said he hadn’t been trying to frame him. Owen wasn’t malicious. But he hadn’t come forward to protect Cain when the rifle was found, either. He’d chosen to continue covering for Robert, and that showed Cain where his true loyalties lay. Not only that, Robert had been more support to Amy than he’d ever been to Cain.
Even worse was that moment in the police station when Ned had drawn his gun. John had
wanted
him to fire. Cain had sensed his sudden eagerness, his reckless “just do it and end it all” attitude.
The memory of his mother’s voice came into Cain’s mind. “It’s them, not you. If they knew you like I do,
they’d love you every bit as much.” For the sake of his relationship with Marshall, he’d made peace with his stepbrothers and father over the years. They spent Thanksgiving and Christmas together, and each year got a little easier. There were moments when Cain thought he might actually be able to forgive John. But then Bailey’s rifle had surfaced and everything had snapped right back to where it’d been twelve years ago.
Quixote and Maximillian growled and got to their feet, their noses pointing toward the road. Koda lifted his head and flicked his ears. Cain thought maybe they smelled a skunk or some other small animal and told them to relax. With Sheridan gone, he didn’t have to worry so much about every little sound or rustle of movement.
A few seconds later, however, he heard an engine and saw the lights of another vehicle coming down the lane.
When he recognized it as his neighbor’s car, he got up and walked into the clearing.
Levi Matherley rolled down his window. His dark hair, laced with gray, stuck up on one side as if he’d recently been in bed. No doubt he had, since it was nearly three-thirty in the morning. Levi had a wife and two little girls to support. His feed store opened at six. Why would he be up and about at this time of night? “Hey,” Levi called out.
“Hey, yourself. What’re you doing here?” Cain asked.
“Vi heard something so I grabbed a flashlight and went out to check the yard.” He sounded concerned and, after what had happened, Cain could understand why.
Squatting, Cain rested his elbows on the window ledge. “Don’t worry. A friend of Sheridan Kohl’s arrived a few minutes ago from California. She’s not familiar
with the area, probably made a wrong turn and ended up on your property before she found mine. That’s all.”
Levi’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, really? Did she take time to stand in the woods and drink some tequila?” he asked and showed Cain a half-filled bottle he handled only by the very top.
Cain studied the label. “Where’d you find this?”
Levi pointed beyond the clearing. “In those trees behind your place. I’ve been tromping around back there with a flashlight. Didn’t you hear the dogs?”
“I assumed they were barking at my guest.”
“Lucky for me. I was afraid you’d think I was a threat and shoot me.” He laughed uncomfortably. “That’s why I decided to get in the car instead of approaching your place on foot.”
“Good idea.” He sighed as his gaze returned to the tequila. “We need to see if we can get some prints from this bottle.”
Levi wedged the bottom of it carefully between the seat and the console, so the middle part, which would most likely hold prints, didn’t touch anything. “I’ll drop it off at the police station on my way to work in the morning.”
“You don’t have any idea who it was, do you?” Cain asked.
Levi didn’t respond right away.
“Are you going to answer me?” Cain prompted.
“I think it’s best to let the police handle it from here.”
Cain touched his neighbor’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
A frown created deep grooves on either side of Levi’s mouth. “Just a hunch.”
“What kind of hunch?”
“I suspect it might’ve been Tiger Chandler.”
Cain rocked back on his heels. “
Tiger?
What makes you say that?”
“I’ve seen his car up here a few times.”
“What for?”
“What do you think?”
Cain was at a complete loss. He couldn’t even remember the last time Tiger had been at his house. “I have no clue.”
“He used to come up here fairly often. He’d park his car on the edge of my property and walk over to your place,” Levi explained.
“He never came to the door,” Cain said.
“I know. I confronted him about it once, as he was getting back in his car.”
“What’d he say?”
“He claimed he was just out for some fresh air.”
“What, the air’s better at my place?”
Levi cleared his throat. “Come on, Cain. This is awkward enough. Stop pretending.”
Cain felt his jaw drop. “Pretending? Levi, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”