Awaken to Danger (8 page)

possibility someone may have tampered with her balcony. There're plenty of reasons somebody may

have been angry enough to whack Owens over the head. His gambling habit. Or maybe Nikki Price had

a jealous ex-boyfriend who didn't much like her getting busy with another guy."

An understandable possibility since thinking about Nikki dating other guys tossed acid onto his already

burning raw gut even though he had no claim to her. He kept his hands loose, his face impassive. He'd

mastered the blasé look with his new command duties.

Funny thing, though, Reis was giving him exactly the same blank expression. The investigator's words

about ex-boyfriends being to blame shifted in Carson's head, settling into place a second before Reis

leaned forward, elbows on his desk.

"So I guess you won't be surprised to hear you're on my suspect list, as well, Major."

How damned ironic that in spite of years of working to hide his attraction to Nikki, the agent had pegged

it so fast.

If he was doing such a piss-poor job of keeping his emotions under wraps, then maybe it was time to

confront this dogged attraction head-on with Nikki after all.

* * *

She shot puffy clouds of air ahead then plowed through the vapor. Too bad her cloudy memories weren't

as easily dispersed.

Thank goodness Chris didn't want to talk because she had too much energy to work out. Instead, she

kept her Walkman headset in place, hoping exhaustion and WWII era tunes— The Andrews sisters at

present—would soothe her frustration over having her life hijacked.

She missed her apartment and independence. However as much as she wanted to return to her place and

simply invest in a kick-ass security system, she couldn't forget her mother's strained face and difficult

pregnancy. Her father was due home in another week. She could put her own needs on hold for a few

more days.

Cars chugged past in the sleepy neighborhood, some turning around and taking detours for ongoing road

construction, but she felt safe enough in the late afternoon with her brother alongside. Even Carson

couldn't expect her to hole up inside indefinitely.

One foot in front of the other, she willed the runner's high to overtake her so she could block out the

resurrected yearning to be with Carson, a light harmonic melody pulsing through her ears and thrumming

in her veins. A swelling, sentimental ache she'd finally acknowledged the night she decided to break things

off with Gary...

Nikki thudded along the planked boardwalk stretching toward Beachcombers Bar and Grill.

Flight-jacket-clad bodies with dates packed the back porch, twice as many undoubtedly inside if

the dull war was anything to gauge by. Finding Gary could take hours in this wash of brown

leather and jeans. Better to park her butt at the bar and wait for him to find her.

A marshy breeze blew in off the beach, cold, but not enough to drive the congregated smokers

back inside. She charged closer while sailboats bobbed along the nearby marina, lines snapping

and pinging against masts in a mariner's tune.

But she wouldn't be lured by that song of Carson anymore. Tonight would be her fresh start. No

more self-destructive dating losers who happened to resemble Carson.

One of the first things on her agenda, stop coming to a watering hole populated with flyboys from

nearby Charleston Air Force Base. Climbing the steps up to the hangout housed in a historic

clapboard two story, she pushed the rest of the way through, smiling and nodding at familiar

faces she barely registered. Same old crowd, even on a Sunday evening.

The bass from the band pulsed through the ground, beach music blending with old rock tunes

from her parents' day that had round-robined back into modern remakes. She sucked in a bracing

breath, prepping herself for the upcoming confrontation. Gary had been a little possessive in the

past when guys hit on her, but not violent. Still just in case, she 'd chosen a public meeting place.

She parted a circle playing quarters. "Pardon me. 'Scuse me." She ducked around an

overendowed regular wearing Lycra and no coat in January. "Excuse me, Hannah."

Finally. The door.

Nikki dodged another couple between her and her destination
—
and slammed into a solid body.

Her senses announced his identity before she even looked up.

Carson, full of musky scent mixed with fresh ocean air, unmistakably him. She forced her gaze

upward and her feet to stomp backward when she wanted to stay smack-dab where she was and

just breathe for a few minutes
—
or days.

"Hi, Scorch."

She refused to duck and run. She had nothing to be ashamed of. He was the one who'd been a

total jerk and if speaking with her made him a smidge uncomfortable, then too damn bad.

He hitched a foot on the step back into the main bar, shoulder on the door frame, a white paper

sack clutched in his hand. "Hey, have you spoken with your father recently?"

And wasn't that just like him to bring up her dad every time they spoke? Thinking Carson stayed

away because of her father stung a little less, since at least he had a reason
—
albeit a really stupid

one. However if he'd simply been a user-jerk, then getting over him would be easier.

A lose-lose situation for her.

"Phone calls have been scarce, but the Internet has been awesome. He talks more through e-mail

than he would over the phone anyhow."

"That's your dad."

"Are you meeting someone here?" Ah hell.

"No, just grabbing carry out on my way to a meeting." He lifted his hand gripping the paper sack.

"Nothing like Claire's Southern barbecue wings after a day of sailing."

Claire McDermott was joint owner of Beachcombers with her sisters. Claire was a single

attractive woman who happened to cook Carson's favorite food
—
and didn't jealousy suck? The

guy was heading to a late meeting at work on a Sunday night, for goodness' sake. "So you're still

sailing."

"I finally bit the bullet and replaced my old sixteen-footer with a used thirty-one-foot Catalina a

couple of months ago."

She could so see him out on the water, sun bleaching his golden hair white, bronzing his chest

while they both savored the waves and the day. She'd always admired his way of enjoying silence

as much as a conversation. "Good for you. Life should be lived."

He stared back at her with eyes so blue she saw the ocean and really wanted to jump in, headfirst,

no safety preserver.

He blinked first
—
thank God
—
and looked over her shoulder. "Are you meeting someone?"

She wanted to say no and see if he asked her to join him for supper, but she was smart enough not

to act on that "want" with this man ever again. "Yeah, he should be here any minute."

His sky-blue eyes blanked. "I won't keep you then."

"Enjoy your wings and your meeting."

Nodding, he brushed past and heaven help her she watched his confident long strides since he

couldn't see her unrestrained attention as he melded into the crowd. And how weird was it that

suddenly she could see through that crowd just fine when it came to watching him?

Pain
—
and yes, anger
—
whispered through her veins. All of which strengthened her resolve to

break things off with Gary. How unfair to date him when she still had this mess of feelings for

Carson tangled tighter than those sailboat lines twisting in the wind.

He cleared the walkway and stopped. Waving?

She should look away. Leave. Quit staring after him like a lovesick dork. And she would in just a

second.

Carson called to someone behind a beat-up truck but his words drifted away on the wind and out

to sea. He waited to be joined by two men
—
an older, shorter man in a backward ball cap and

another guy about Carson's age, taller in a plaid shirt. She couldn't make them out well from a

distance and didn't study them overlong since she was too busy being more relieved than she

should that Carson wasn't with a woman.

He walked with the two men toward his extended-cab truck where they all three climbed in. All?

Apparently there wasn't a work meeting after all. It stung more than a little that he'd felt the need

to make excuses.

Definitely time to leave and move forward...

Panting from her run, Nikki slowed on the sidewalk in front of her parents' next-door neighbor's, sifting

through the mishmash of emotions from that night to simply analyze the event.

She'd already remembered that time prior to stepping inside, but relaxing did offer her a few more details

—like the two men Carson met up with. Problem was that seemed so insignificant. She could only hope

the relaxation techniques suggested by the hypnotist would help her recall more.

As if she'd conjured Carson from her thoughts, there he was, in the driveway with her mother, little Jamie

barreling by the trailer hitch on his toddler scooter.

Her mom sagged back against the fender of Carson's truck, her hand pressed to her forehead. Nikki's

stomach lurched up to her throat. Had something happened to her father? God, she'd been so selfishly

focused on her own mess she'd all but forgotten that her dad was in the Middle East, not a safe place for

military members on the ground or in the air.

Nikki ripped the headset from her ears and sprinted across the dormant lawn, over a low hedge toward

her mother. "Mom?" She took her mother's elbow, determined to keep it together, be supportive. "I'm

here. Breathe—"

"It's all right," Rena interrupted, straightening with a shaky smile. "Everything's fine. I only got a smidge

spooked when Scorch drove up. I had a little flashback to the other time my husband's commander

showed up on my doorstep. Of course I know you wouldn't come alone for a bad call. You would bring

along a doctor and chaplain," she rambled, gasping. "But still..."

Carson jammed his fists into his leather coat pockets. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just came

to check on everyone. And you're right. I wouldn't be here alone and I wouldn't be wearing a flight suit."

He would wear his dress blues, all those ribbons across his chest. He could be a poster model for a

recruiting office he filled out any uniform so well. What a silly superficial thought that made her wonder if

her feelings were still the result of physical attraction and the old crush.

She didn't much like what that said about her.

He'd apologized, hadn't made excuses and seemed to be working on amends. Just because she didn't

totally trust him, she didn't have to be rude. And the excitement circling laps around inside her stomach

was simply nerves because of their history. Maybe she'd gotten it wrong over the past seven months by

staying away from him. Perhaps spending more time with him would help her get over that.

Get over
him.

He had to stop looking at
her
before her family noticed.

But Carson couldn't seem to reel in his attention from Nikki, her face glistening with sweat, her hair

mussed, much like he imagined she would look during marathon sex. Which he would give his left nut to

remember having had with her seven months ago.

The next morning, they'd been naked in bed together and he couldn't even recall shedding more than their

shirts. He remembered well that incredible moment she'd unfastened the front clasp of her bra, freeing

perfect pert breasts. He'd reached for her with both hands, could feel the shape and pebbling peaks of

her against his palms even now.

His breathing hitched right along with a skipped heartbeat. How idiotic to think about sleeping with Nikki

when standing in the driveway with her exhausted mother, worried brother and wild man baby brother

currently trying to run over Carson's boots with his scooter.

Actually, it wasn't wise to think about getting naked with her at any time, because his self control was

dwindling fast the longer he spent with her. But he'd figured out quickly in Reis's office that he wasn't

fooling anyone, especially himself, by staying away. Best to convince her they could resurrect the light

friendship they'd once had.

While keeping his flight suit zipped this time.

Nikki's brother Chris shuffled up beside them, his eyes locked on his mother's weary face, concern

stamping a maturity beyond his years on his college-aged features. The kid had been bending over

backward to help out around the house since his own brush with the law his junior year in high school.