At Any Cost (7 page)

“Oh, um, yeah.” She drew her full bottom lip between her teeth and looked to her right. She rolled her shoulders as though trying to coax away some tension. “The doors are locked, though.”

Her expression became pinched as though she waged some internal battle. Nick waited patiently. If he pushed her on the matter, she'd be suspicious. He was just making a friendly offer, being a good neighbor. He wanted her to trust him. Part of him needed her to.

“If you think he'll be okay until you get home, it's fine,” Nick said. “I'm not doing anything but sitting in the house, so I thought I'd offer.”

“I'm sure he'll be okay,” Livy said after a moment. “He ate last night before bed, so it's not like he'll starve to death.”

“No worries.”
Shit
. Nick hid his disappointment as he took a pull from the bottle of iced tea. The cold chill almost numbed his throat on the way down, better than the sting he felt at not being able to earn a small amount of Livy's trust.

Livy fidgeted in her seat, glanced toward the parking lot, over her shoulder, and again to her right. She leaned back to check the large clock that hung from the far wall. “I've got a group lesson in about fifteen minutes. I'd probably better go get ready.”

It wasn't a brush-off per se, but Nick's offer to go into her house had made Livy nervous. She reached for her tray at the same time Nick did and their hands touched. The contact was electric and sent a rush of heat through his bloodstream that settled and pooled in his gut. Their eyes met and Livy's full pink lips parted. How could a man spend any amount of time with her and not think about kissing her? Nick found himself thinking about it more and more and that was a huge fucking problem. “I'll get your tray.” The words came out much rougher than he'd hoped. He cleared his throat. “You've got a lot more gear to get on than I do.”

Livy pulled the knit beanie back on and pushed it up over her forehead before situating her goggles over the hat. Nick stood and gathered up their empty plates and stacked their trays but he watched from the corner of his eye as she put on her coat. Everything she did drew Nick's undivided attention.

“Thanks for having lunch with me.” She reached down and fiddled with her ski boot before turning toward the exit.

Nick stood there, holding their lunch trays, mouth slack like some sort of idiot. “How about dinner tonight?” The words left his mouth before he could think better of it. Nothing like coming on too strong to earn a woman's trust.

A frown marred her brow for the barest second. That sadness and regret, no matter how fleeting, tore a hole in Nick's chest every time he saw it. She paused and a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “My place or yours?”

“How about we go out?” he suggested. “You could show me the town.”

She worried her lip, unsure. Was Livy so afraid that besides work and the grocery store she never left her house? “All right,” she said after a moment. “I get off at four. How 'bout we eat around six thirty?”

“I'll be ready,” Nick replied. “Have fun on the slopes.”

Her smile brightened. “Always. See you tonight.”

This was research, Nick reminded himself. Nothing more. His interest in Livy didn't go beyond how she could get him closer to Joel Meecum. And maybe if he kept telling himself that, like Livy, he'd start to believe his own lies.

Chapter Seven

Livy checked her reflection in the full-length mirror one last time. On a scale of one to ten of bad ideas, going out on a date with Nick ranked somewhere around a fifty. She'd always been able to justify her decision to live like a hermit. Fear could be a hell of a motivator. And likewise, she didn't date for the same reason that she kept her interpersonal interactions to a minimum at work: Livy hated lying. Always had. And a relationship founded on lies was doomed no matter her reasons for doing it.

She shouldn't have accepted Nick's offer for dinner tonight. She shouldn't have eaten lunch with him this afternoon. Hell, she never should have let him pack in her groceries or push her out of the snowdrift in the first place. She never should have exchanged even a single word with him. Common sense took a permanent hiatus from her brain when he was near, though. Her thought process stalled and all she wanted was one minute more with him. When their hands had touched earlier today, it sparked something inside of Livy. A desire so hot and thick that she'd nearly choked on it. God, it was embarrassing how hard up she was. An innocent touch from a good-looking guy and she was on fire. Just one more reason going out to dinner with him tonight was a bad idea. Her tongue would be lolling out of her mouth before dessert. Totes sexy.

Ugh.
Could she be more of a loser?

The knock at her front door startled Livy and she lost her hold on the tube of lipstick she held in her grasp. She took several even breaths to slow her racing heart and cast a sidelong glance at Simon who narrowed his eyes at her in judgment.

“We can't all be as cool as you are, Simon.”

The cat gave her a forlorn meow before he jumped down from the bed and headed out of the room. Livy retrieved the tube of lipstick and smoothed some on her lips before following Simon down the stairs. Through the glass pane of the door, she caught sight of Nick waiting on the front porch, something clutched in his grip. Curiosity piqued, Livy hustled down the last few stairs and opened the door.

“Hey. I'm almost ready, just have to grab my coat.”

Nick held the snow shovel aloft, a wide smile curving his lips. Prince Charming had nothing on Nick. His smile literally weakened her knees. Livy expected a glint of light followed by a high-pitched
ping!
every time he grinned at her. His smile was by far Nick's greatest asset and his most powerful weapon. She clutched the doorknob a little tighter to help keep her upright.

“He's no Frank, but hopefully he'll get the job done.”

Livy's heart soared. What kind of woman was moved by a fucking snow shovel? This one, that's who. A dozen roses wouldn't have meant more to her than the plastic snow shovel Nick offered her.

She took the shovel from his outstretched hand. “This is probably the best present anyone has ever given me. Thank you so much!”

Nick's brows came together and his lips formed a hard line. “If that's the best present anyone has ever given you, I'd say I need to have a talk with the gift givers in your life.”

Heat rose to Livy's cheeks. She'd forgone birthday and Christmas presents when she was a kid in lieu of skis and coaching fees. Money had been tight and as a single parent, her mom worked two jobs not only to make ends meet but to make sure that she could continue to ski. Her mom was the only family she had, and in four years, Livy had talked to her all of fifteen times. So yeah, a stupid shovel meant so much to her that it caused tears to prick at her eyes.

“I think I'll call him Frank Junior.” It was easier to change the subject than to try to fabricate a reason why Livy didn't have anyone in her life who might want to give her a gift. “I only hope he can live up to his father's legacy.”

Nick gave her a look as though he knew she was deflecting, but he let it slide. Again she was struck by how great it was to be with someone who didn't try to pry and simply spent time with her. Sadness threatened to swallow her as Livy thought about moving away from the place she'd called home for four years. Knowing Nick would be leaving in three short weeks didn't contribute to her melancholy, either. Not at all.

“So, where are you taking me?” Nick waited on the porch as Livy threw on her coat and locked up the house. “And dinner's on me so don't let that influence your decision at all.”

She checked the deadbolt once, twice, and again. If he noticed her obsessiveness, he didn't say anything. Though, what would he say?
So . . . I see you like to lock doors. What's up with that?
She wanted to knock her head against a wall.

Livy gave him a sidelong glance as she wrapped a scarf around her neck. “So are you saying I shouldn't feel guilty about choosing somewhere very high-end?”

“I encourage it,” Nick said. “I want the best.”

“Oh my God!” Livy gasped with feigned shock, and Nick cast a suspicious glance her way. “Are you a . . .
foodie
?” His charming half smile sent her into a frenzied state where she pictured her ovaries perking up and panting like happy little puppies. The man was so fucking gorgeous it wouldn't surprise her that the mere sight of him made her as fertile as the Nile.

Darkness swallowed them as they stepped beyond the stretch of the porch light toward Nick's truck. Livy had always loved winter—the cold and piles of snow didn't bother her—but the seemingly perpetual darkness got to be a bit of a downer after a while. Summer nights in McCall were amazing. Sunsets were gorgeous until almost ten o'clock and the cool air from the lake wafted in through the upstairs window to cool the house from the heat of the day. It sucked that she wouldn't be here for another summer. She'd miss living here.

“Livy?”

Nick stood at the passenger side of the truck, the door held open for her. Good-looking and a gentleman? Jesus. He really was Prince Charming. Her sex drive wasn't simply yipping like an excited puppy anymore, it was full-on howling.

“Sorry.” She hoofed it through the snow and hopped in the truck. “I, uh, couldn't remember if I locked the door or not.”
Oh dear Lord. Livy, are you insane?
Like he didn't notice her lock and unlock her door a hundred freaking times. Her excuses for getting lost in her own stupid thoughts were becoming less believable by the second.

Nick gave her a wry look. “I'm pretty sure you're good to go.” Her stomach did a backflip as his eyes met hers for a moment before he closed the door and rounded the truck to the driver's side.

“Okay, where are we going?” Nick asked as he climbed in and started the truck.

“No price restrictions, huh, foodie?” Livy teased.

“I want my credit card to weep at the end of dinner.”

Laughter bubbled in Livy's chest. “All right, you asked for it. Let's go to The Narrows at Shore Lodge,” she said. “I promise, your Visa will
sob
.”

“Perfect.”

Perfect
. That one word described Nick to a T. Livy was starting to wonder if he had a fatal flaw. Guys like Nick weren't usually what Livy went for. Way too far out of her league to even have a chance. Nick made her feel like she could be a different person, though. One who deserved better than a user or abuser. She just hoped that he wouldn't eventually prove that wild theory wrong.

* * *

The Narrows wasn't far from the house. Situated in the swanky Shore Lodge on Payette Lake, the place boasted a world-class chef and the cuisine to go along with their rustic décor. The hotel itself was gorgeous and looked out over the lake. Nick felt cheated of the view in the dark of night. Maybe he'd bring Livy back for breakfast or brunch on her next day off.

Jesus
. He gave himself a mental shake. He wasn't in McCall to date Livy. Why did it seem as though he had to remind himself of that fact more and more? This was about slapping cuffs on Meecum, bringing a violent criminal to justice, and claiming the bragging rights of being the marshal who brought him in. He peeked over the top of the menu at Livy. He'd quit thinking of her as Kari Hanson the minute he'd introduced himself to her that morning in the snowstorm. That was part of the problem. Like her, he'd bought into the persona she'd created. He didn't want her to know anything about Meecum. He didn't want her to be a person of interest.

Scratch that. She was a person of interest all right, but Nick's interest in her was starting to become more personal by the day. If he'd been officially on the job, he'd be working this case with a partner. They would have introduced themselves to Livy, flashed their badges, and thrown their weight around from the get-go. They wouldn't have wasted any time in calling her out on her fake identity. Nick would have personally shaken her down and demanded that she turn on her ex or face jail time for conspiracy and obstruction. As a united front, they would have pushed her, scared her, thrown out a few thinly veiled legal threats. They might've even played good cop, bad cop with her and ultimately offered her protection if she flipped on Meecum and told them everything she knew.

Instead, Nick was practically dating her. He was a real credit to his badge.

Livy studied the menu with wide eyes. The delight so obvious in her expression transformed her, made her even more beautiful and soft. “Everything on the menu looks delicious,” she said with a wide grin. “I haven't eaten anything like this since—” A look of pure shock chased over her features and she reached out to take a nervous sip from her water glass.

She'd been on the verge of letting something slip. “Since what?” Nick asked, hoping to edge her closer to finally divulging something about herself that was real. Something personal that he could use in his research of her.

She studied him for a moment. The quiet intensity of it unnerved him. Livy looked straight into his eyes, inside of him, through him as though she could somehow test his worthiness of whatever she'd been about to say. They balanced at the cusp of something huge. Trust. Nick wanted her to trust him, he practically
willed
it.
Come on, Livy. I can help you. Let me.

“Not since I won the junior division slalom title when I was seventeen and my mom took me out to celebrate.”

Yes!
Warm emotion swelled in Nick's chest. Livy was a tough nut to crack but he'd managed to create the tiniest fissure. The knowledge that she'd given him some small bit of truth felt like a gift. Something precious and invaluable that had been entrusted into his safekeeping. And damn it, it felt
good
.

Nick lowered his menu to give her his full attention. “You must be a much better skier than you let on. Not really Olympic level? I'd say you were being modest. That's amazing, Livy.”

Color rose to her cheeks and Nick's breath hitched. She glanced away as though embarrassed.
No
. She was angry with herself for letting a personal truth slip. Her lips thinned before she let out a slow breath. “It's not a big deal,” she murmured. “It was a long time ago.”

“You're what . . . twenty-five, twenty-six?” Nick ventured. “It couldn't have been that long ago.”

“Twenty-five,” she said with a wry grin. “It feels like forever ago.” The sadness in her tone gutted him. “I'm practically a grandma.”

Oftentimes, the marshals caught fugitives simply because they grew tired of hiding out. Even lowlife violent criminals couldn't survive in isolation for long. It was a wonder Meecum had made it this far, though the Marshals Service had always surmised that it had been easier for him to evade capture because of the network of members in the Black Death MC that helped him. Livy hadn't been so lucky. One of the reasons it had been hard to track her down was because they literally hadn't been able to find any information on Kari Hanson that would help lead them to her. No family, no work history, nothing. They'd assumed that Kari was another alias and that she'd been a fugitive when she'd hooked up with Joel. That theory had been shot to shit the moment Nick laid eyes on her. There wasn't a single scenario he could conjure in his mind that made her a criminal or put her in any sort of relationship with Joel Meecum, romantic or otherwise.

“Why'd you quit racing?”

Livy traced the pad of her finger around the lip of her water glass. Nick's gaze was drawn to the motion and he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have that digit trace a similar pattern on his skin. A tingle of sensation raced down his spine and settled at the base of his cock. He needed to get his shit together and focus on why he was here before he did something stupid. Because with every passing second in her company, stupid gained more and more appeal.

“Ran out of money,” she said with a shrug. She tried to play it off as no big deal but Nick didn't buy it. “Ski racing is a super-expensive sport. I had a couple of sponsorship offers but they weren't enough. In juniors, there's a lot of travel. Private schooling to accommodate training schedules, that sort of thing. It adds up.”

“Damn.” Nick could only imagine how crushing it had been for her to quit. “That's rough. I'm sorry, Livy.”

“It is what it is.” She took a sip from her glass. “It could have been worse. I could have been forced to quit because of an injury. At least I'm fit and can still ski for fun. That's what's important.”

“And that you have no regrets,” Nick added.

Her expression darkened. Livy obviously had a few regrets. He just wished he knew what they were. “Right,” she said, low.

Their conversation was interrupted when the server came back around to take their order. “Remember,” Nick said with a grin, “I want my credit card to weep.”