Bring the Heat (11 page)

Danny had brought them each a bag as well, and she was insanely curious when Austin said they weren't going back to his rented house. Instead, she was following his GPS directions out of town, into the country.

Laura stole a glance at him. By now, he must be dying for a shower and a couple of ibuprofen for his aching head. She'd see that he got both. The only outward sign of discomfort was his rubbing his temples every so often and, he'd admitted, a bit of nausea.

They'd been driving for about an hour when he spoke up.

“Take a left at the next gravel drive.”

“Gotcha.” Laura swung the car into the wide driveway, ogling the impressive black iron gate flanked by stone columns. A box on the driver's side boasted a security panel and intercom. “Wow. Where have you been hiding this place? Did you win the lottery and forget to tell me?”

“Nah.” He sighed. “This place belongs to my parents, but they're rarely here. It'll just be us for a few days, if that's all right by you.”

“Definitely fine by me.”

Austin rattled off the code and she punched it in. With a pop, the gate slowly swung inward. As soon as the Mercedes was clear, it reversed direction. Pretty fancy. Turning her attention to the winding, treelined drive, she admired the view.

Rolling hills stretched as far as the eye could see, no neighbors around to spoil the view of the land and trees. When the sprawling stone, log, and glass structure came into view, Laura breathed a reverent sigh.

“Oh, Austin, your parents' place is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. It's my sanctuary, too, whenever I need it.”

“How long have they owned it?”

“Oh, about twenty years, back around the time I joined the police department. Once they bought the land, I moved here from South Texas. Took us about a year to finish the house, Dad and me and some hired help.”

Pride lit his face, and she was glad to see him focused on a pleasant topic for the time being. “You helped your dad build this place? Wow, I'm even more impressed.”

“It was a labor of love.”

Austin Rainey was a financially stable man, no doubt about it. Maybe even wealthy, one day—not that she cared about that. He was a man who'd carved a peaceful niche in an often brutal world.

“Is that where you're from, South Texas? Are your parents still there?” she asked, curious about his roots.

“No, they live in Tennessee. My oldest brother, Johnny, runs a ranch down there along with our middle
brother, Michael. He's also the sheriff of McMullen County, so he relies a lot on our younger brothers, Lucas and Sloane. He works too damn hard.”

“Are any of them married?”

“No, they're all single.”

Laura blinked. There were four more hardworking single Rainey men? If they possessed one drop of Austin's sex appeal, surely no female within a hundred miles was safe from their quadruple blast of testosterone.

“We had another brother, Phillip, who was killed in Desert Storm. His death nearly destroyed my parents.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Me, too.”

So much for the brighter mood the prospect of the house had brought. She pulled into the circular drive and parked in front. A wide, shady porch graced the length and wrapped around the right side, where it disappeared from view. Stepping out of the car, she walked around to Austin's side and opened the door, reaching for him.

“Here, let me help you.”

He waved her off. “I can make it. I was drugged, not crippled.”

Not hardly. He pushed out of the car with a groan and started for the house with a shuffling gate. Laura took his arm anyway, and he offered no further protest as she guided him up the porch steps. She didn't want him to get dizzy and fall. At the front door, a grimace suddenly etched lines around his mouth.

“Damn, I left my truck parked at the hospital.”

“Not to worry.” She smiled, happy to be able to ease his mind about something. “Danny and Shane got your keys from your jeans pocket and brought that big black tank of yours home this morning. It's probably parked around back. Here you go—I almost forgot.” She fished his truck keys from her jeans and handed them to him.

“Thanks.” He breathed in relief.

“Good friends, huh?”

That earned a small smile. “The best.”

Inside, Austin disarmed the security system while Laura admired the rustic interior. The foyer was dominated by a staircase ascending to the second floor. Braided rugs accented the gleaming hardwood floors, and chocolate brown saddle-stitched leather furniture graced the cozy living room beyond. Tasteful, and wonderfully welcoming.

“Your home is marvelous. I've always dreamed of having a retreat.”

A strange look flickered across his face. “Maybe someday you will.”

“Oh, I doubt it,” she murmured. “My condo is plenty big enough for me and Max.”

“Max?” he questioned stiffly.

“My cat,” she said dryly. “Who were you thinking?”

He relaxed. “Oh.”

“Yikes, I have to get someone to feed him.”

“We'll get one of the guys to take care of him.”

Worry nagged at Laura. He looked dreadfully exhausted, dark smudges under his eyes hinting at lack of sleep despite the pain meds. As much as she wanted him near, it occurred to her that he might already regret
his decision to act as her protector. That he might appreciate an out.

“You know, there's really no need for you to go to the trouble of watching over me. I'm sure you'd rather recuperate in the comfort of your own home, and Danny assured me he's got no problem staying at my place until the danger is past.”

An ominous frown marred his brow. “I'll just bet he did, but that won't be necessary. I created this mess, and I'll fix it. Besides, I can rest at your place same as I can here if it comes to that. But I
will
be watching over you.”

“We've been over this.
You
didn't create anything. None of this is your fault, and I wish you'd get that through your thick skull. But, Austin, if the killer is watching both of us, are you certain it's a good idea for us to be together?”

He laughed, a harsh sound. “All I know is, my gut's telling me we're safer together than we are apart.”

She felt the same, and immense relief swamped her. “All right, if you're sure.”

“I am. And I really don't think he knows about this place. It's not in my name or anything.”

“Well, that should give you a few days to recover and mull over the case before he makes another move.”

“Exactly.” Falling silent for a moment, he stared down at his shoes. “Mind if I shower? I feel filthy.”

Her heart broke for him. If their situations were reversed, she'd scrub at that depraved maniac's foulness until her skin peeled off. Even though the killer hadn't physically touched him, he'd still been violated. She
laid a hand on his hard biceps, secretly thrilling at the coiled strength that hinted at none of the vulnerability underneath.

“Take as long as you need.”

“Make yourself at home. TV remote's on the coffee table, sodas and beer in the fridge if you're thirsty. Kitchen's through there.” He pointed to a wide archway at the back of the living room. “I'll try not to be long.”

Austin headed slowly toward the stairs, and Laura had to restrain herself from rushing to his side. He might benefit from her help, but the stubborn man clearly didn't want it. Although a line of intimacy between them had been crossed, she didn't know precisely how to proceed.

At loose ends, she treated herself to a tour of his living room. Without ever tipping into cowboy, the masculine wood and leather created a lushly rustic atmosphere, as one might find at a deluxe mountain lodge. A warm, enveloping treat to the senses.

A big stone fireplace with a split-log mantel graced a large portion of one wall. Two sofas, a square coffee table, and two recliners made an inviting arrangement next to the fireplace. An enormous flat-screen TV mounted on an adjacent wall provided the sole nod to high-end modern technology—and macho indulgence—within view.

She could easily imagine living here forever. Of never, ever wanting to leave. Thinking of her sleek high-rise condo, she shivered. Compared with Austin's home, her place had all the personality of his stale
white hospital room. The thought of returning to that sterile box anytime soon depressed the hell out of her. Yes, she'd put some nice touches into Austin's rental home when he'd been in the hospital, but that had been a gift for him. She was rarely at her own condo enough for it to feel like home, so she didn't bother with decorating. She was glad to be staying here for a bit.

Idly, she wandered over to a table that held several framed photos. One was a studio portrait of an attractive fortysomething couple. Austin's parents. The man wore his auburn hair shorter than Austin's, but the distinctive strong jaw, chiseled lips, and clear green eyes were his. The woman in the photo was stunning, with dark shoulder-length hair, full lips, and large brown eyes.

Her gaze roamed to the next photo, this one a more recent snapshot of five handsome, smiling men in worn jeans, cotton T-shirts, and cowboy hats, perched on a fence railing. One had shaggy dark hair, and three were blond. Austin was the sole ginger, laughing in the middle with two men on each side of him. These had to be his brothers. From the way they leaned on each other, arms looped across each other's shoulders, the Raineys must be very close.

The old, familiar ache knotted in her chest. As kids, she, Samantha, and Gray had shared that warm bond. A connection she'd once believed unbreakable.

But a vile monster had ripped that bond apart forever. The path Laura had followed to this day had been forged by the pedophile that left Grayson Eden an empty shell, their family in ruins.

Oh, Gray. Why did you turn from those who love you? We'd give anything to see you whole again
.

She shook off the cloying sadness, casting it firmly aside. She and Sammie would get through to their big brother one day. They'd never give up on him.

Glancing at her watch, she noted that Austin had been upstairs for forty minutes. He must've had trouble getting undressed and showered. She should've at least helped him up first, made sure he wasn't still too loopy from the drug. Biting her lip, she debated whether to go to him. Did she dare risk their budding relationship by invading his privacy?

What if he was passed out on the floor? The awful possibility got her feet moving. Laura took the stairs quickly, pausing on the landing to scout her surroundings. Five doorways were nestled around the loft area, three on her left, two on her right. Only the door in the far-right-hand corner was closed, so Laura went with the odds.

Walking over, she hesitated, raising a fist to knock. But before she did, a muffled sound froze her arm in midswing. The door wasn't pulled completely shut, and there could be no mistaking what she'd heard. If the door had been closed, she might've missed it altogether.

Another quiet sob reached Laura's ears, shocking her, searing her soul as nothing else could have. Without hesitating further, she pushed inside, the sight sticking her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

Austin sat on the edge of a king-sized bed in profile, head hanging low, left hand over his face, right arm
tucked against his stomach. A discarded T-shirt lay on the bed next to him. His gleaming hair was wet from the shower. He'd pulled on a pair of fresh jeans, but they were unsnapped, and he was barefoot.

Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping off his chin, and Laura went weak in the knees.
Oh God—anything but this
.

Austin Rainey, the tough cop who, just a few short weeks ago, had a good life and a baby on the way, was crying.

Eden men did not weep, even under the most awful circumstances, which was probably why they were so unable to purge old wounds and heal. Laura had no experience with grieving men, and no idea what to do with this one.

“Austin?” she ventured.

No answer. She walked a few steps closer, then stopped, torn between the desire to comfort him and flee like a coward. No, to hell with running. If he wanted her to leave, he'd have to ask.

She circled around to sit next to him on the bed and laid a hand on his broad back, stroking. “Sweetie, I'm here. Whatever you need.”

Silence, long and agonizing. Finally, Austin raised his head, the stark misery in his eyes stealing her breath.

“What did my child do to deserve this?” he whispered. His throat convulsed as he went on. “That monster took his life before it had a chance to begin, and now he's trying to take everything else.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Sometimes there's no reason
beyond that some people are evil. They think everything is someone else's fault, like this killer. He blames you for whatever is wrong in his twisted head, but it wasn't your fault.”
Stupid platitudes meaning nothing,
she thought helplessly. After her family's ordeal with Gray, she should know.

He gave a low, bitter laugh. “The hell of it is, I don't have any idea how to stop him. I feel so fucking clueless while he's dancing circles around me,
murdering
people.”

“Oh, Austin.” She lifted her arms to him, and he fell into the circle of her embrace, nearly knocking her over. His big body shuddered, gradually relaxing as she held him close. Tentatively, she stroked his damp hair, murmuring soothing phrases, a woman comforting a man's bruised heart.

The connection that had taken root between them the first time they'd made love was still there, and grew even stronger. It was more than sexual. It was a connection to a man she'd never experienced before. A certainty that this man had been made for her arms, her soul recognizing his on the most essential level. God, what an amazing, incredible feeling.

She pulled back and he lifted his head, gazing at her with such raw need, her insides quivered.