Exposed (3 page)

“You stuck?” He was standing next to a heavily muscled black guy wearing cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. That explained the country music, then. Both men were watching her intently, along with everyone else. With her attention on the cat, she hadn’t realized just how many people had come out to see what was going on.

Her face heated as blood rushed to her cheeks. There was no point denying it. She wasn’t getting any higher or lower on her own and she was woman enough to admit it. “Yeah. Trying to get the cat down.” She pointed to Hugo, still peering down at her.

Ethan nodded once, his eyes twinkling in that devilish way of his. “Hang on.”

Before she could say anything he jumped up and caught hold of the lowest branch. In a show of controlled strength that made her insides flutter he pushed up with his arms to boost himself up, the cut muscles in his chest and shoulders straining against the gray T-shirt that fit him like a second skin, his biceps and forearms bulging. She blinked to clear the image from her brain but she was pretty sure it was burned there permanently now.

He grabbed the branch beside her and swung up onto it, landing on his feet with a catlike grace less than two feet away.

Face to face with him for the first time in four years, she was surprised at how hard her heart pounded. He looked even better than she remembered, and she remembered plenty. “Hi.” At the moment she couldn’t come up with anything more intelligent to say.

“Hi.” His gaze drifted over her once before coming back to her eyes. “You hurt?”

“Not yet, but I’m headed that way. Guess I’m not as good at climbing trees as I used to be,” she offered with a sheepish smile.

He smiled back at her, a dimple appearing in his lean cheek beneath the few days’ worth of dark stubble on his face. Way too gorgeous for his—or any woman’s—own good. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you down.” Tilting his head back, he searched through the branches. “So, Hugo, huh?”

“Yes. When I got halfway to him he bolted even higher up.” Ungrateful little bastard.

“You stay put. I’ll get him.” He gripped the next branch up and proceeded to climb the tree like he was some kind of jungle animal. Fluid, powerful. It was amazing to watch, really. And if her gaze kept sliding down the taut muscles of his spine to the jeans that clung so perfectly to his equally hard butt, well, she was only human.

“Oh! Be careful—don’t scare him any higher,” Mrs. Fernandez called out from below.

Ethan didn’t answer, just climbed up to the cat, grabbed it by the scruff and started climbing back down, ignoring its indignant yowls and hisses. When he reached her level he paused and tucked the animal in the curve of one thick bicep. Hugo’s ears were flat against his head, eyes wide, fluffy tail twitching like a metronome. Just waiting to sink his fangs into Ethan, wherever he could reach.

“He’s a biter,” Marisol warned.

“Better not, after I just rescued him,” Ethan muttered, sending the cat a threatening glare before turning his attention back to her. “You good here for a minute?”

She blew out a breath. “Yeah.” Mostly she was just embarrassed and wanted to get home. She’d already endured a hot yoga class before coming here to visit her mother and happening upon Mrs. Fernandez calling to her cat in the damn tree. This is what being a Good Samaritan got a person. Public humiliation.

Ethan nodded. “’Kay. Hang tight.”

It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

He climbed to the ground and handed the cat to Mrs. Fernandez. She was crying now, hugging Hugo to her as he squalled and tried frantically to squirm away from her, ears pinned back and his eyes big and round.

“You can all go home now,” Ethan announced to the onlookers, taking charge of the situation just like he always had. “I’ll get Soli down.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head at herself. Once again Ethan was the hero riding to her rescue, making her feel like an awkward fifteen-year-old kid all over again. Except instead of scaring off her pushy date that wouldn’t stop at a goodnight kiss, this time he was somehow going to get her out of this tree. At least he’d sent the gawkers away first.

“Can you get back down to the branch below you?” he called up.

She angled around to see which one he was talking about. “Yeah, think so.” With some maneuvering and careful movements she managed to lower herself down and get her feet planted on it.

Her fingers dug into the rough bark as she leaned her weight against the solid trunk. When they were kids she’d climbed this tree like a monkey more times than she could count, even dangling upside down from her bent knees. Humbling to know how much her flexibility and upper body strength had diminished since then.

Ethan moved around below her. “Okay, I’m right beneath you. Sit down on the branch and push off toward me. I’ll catch you.”

He’d
catch
her? From this height? “Uh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She’d flatten him. They’d both wind up with broken bones.

“Come on.” He lifted both muscular arms toward her, beckoned with his hands impatiently. “Drop down and jump.”

God, she just wanted to go home. “Fine.”

She lowered herself into a sitting position on the branch and peered down at him, ignoring his friend, who stood watching all this without saying a word. It was at least twelve feet down. She’d just seen a reminder of how strong Ethan was, but what if he missed her? She was working on the biggest case of her career so far, and a busted leg or pelvis would put a serious hitch in her plans.

His friend stood watch, his hands shoved in his front jeans pockets, face shadowed by the wide brim of his black cowboy hat. Ethan waved a hand again, signaling for her to hurry up. “What, you don’t trust me all of a sudden? Come on, jump.”

Oh, she trusted him. Her issues with him had never been about trusting him with her safety.

Still, her heart beat fast and her palms grew damp. With as much dignity as she could muster she leaned forward and pushed off the branch. She held in a yelp as she fell toward him.

Strong arms caught her a heartbeat later. Automatically she grabbed hold of his broad shoulders, a moment’s shock zinging through her at the feel of those corded muscles beneath her hands. She’d fantasized about touching Ethan’s muscles for years in something other than a platonic hug, but never imagined it would happen like this.

He bent his knees as he caught her, absorbing her weight and slowing her descent. She had only another moment to be conscious of the hard length of him pressed against her front, for the warmth of his body to register before he released her. And he smelled good too, like soap and a hint of clean aftershave. “There,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yes. Thanks.” Her voice sounded a little breathless, which she blamed on the receding tide of adrenaline and not the feel of Ethan’s body. Growing up, he’d always seen her as naïve and helpless, in need of protection. Throughout her teen years she’d wanted him to see her as more than that, and definitely not as a little sister of sorts. Because for many years now, her thoughts about him had been anything but sisterly.

Even four years ago he still hadn’t seemed to notice that she was all grown up. She’d dreamed of turning his image of her on its head the next time they saw each other. Her dressed in a sleek skirt suit, hair and makeup done just so, having landed a kickass legal position. The image of polished, sophisticated corporate grace.

She’d managed the career part, but now she stood before him with salt stains showing on her yoga outfit.

So much for that fantasy.

“No worries.” He gestured to the man next to him. “This is my buddy, Sawyer Vance. Vance, this is Marisol.”

She shook his hand. His hand was huge around hers, but gentle. “Nice to meet you.”

His dark eyes seemed to twinkle at her. “Likewise.”

She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear, acutely conscious of how good Ethan looked and how gross she was. “So, what are you doing here?”

“We’re in Miami for a work thing. Wanted to stop by and see my mom for a bit.”

She nodded. She knew he worked for the FBI now. Their mothers talked to each other all the time. They were both widows, Marisol’s dad having died of a heart attack and Ethan’s dying in a car wreck years ago. They knew everything about each other’s kids. Marisol eyed Ethan. Considering the shape he and Vance were both in though, she guessed they didn’t have desk jobs with the Bureau.

“Heard you’re with the U.S. Attorney’s office down here,” he said.

Her mother would have been sure to pass that onto Mama Cruz as soon as it happened. “Yeah, just started there a few months ago as an assistant attorney.”

He nodded once. “Glad to see you made your dream come true.”

She smiled. “Thanks.” It had taken a lot of hard work and sacrifice and even some blind good luck to land this job, but now that it was hers she planned to work her ass off even more, make a name for herself. The Fuentes case was going to be her launch pad.

“You’ll be working some big cases.”

“Working on one now,” she said without elaborating.

He nodded, something like concern in his eyes. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”

“Oh, it
is
you!”

They all turned to see Mama Cruz up the street, running down her front steps then come jogging up the sidewalk toward them. Ethan’s friend broke into a big smile and met her halfway, picking the petite woman up in a big bear hug. They were both laughing as he set her back down, the happy sound carrying to where Marisol stood with Ethan.

“Wow, she seems really happy to see him,” she said in surprise.

Ethan snorted, but his grin was full of fondness as he watched them. “Those two are ridiculous. When he’s around I definitely come in second.”

He didn’t seem too upset by that, however, and hugged his mother tight when she reached them. “Oh, I’m so glad you got to see each other,” Mama Cruz said, giving them a delighted smile as she looked between her and Ethan. “You were able to get Hugo down then?” she asked Marisol.

“No, Ethan did. And then he got me out of the tree after.”

Mama Cruz beamed up at her son and patted his cheek. “That’s my boy.” She linked arms with both men and started back toward her house, glancing at Marisol. “Soli, you’ll join us for lunch?”

“Thanks, but I can’t. Have to go home and clean up before I head into the office for a while.” Most of the night, probably.

She stopped and looked back at her. “Oh.”

“Sorry.” She aimed another smile at Ethan. “Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime. But hey, I still want to talk to you about something.”

She couldn’t imagine what, after all this time without any contact. “Your mom’s got my number. Nice to meet you, Sawyer.”

The other man tipped the brim of his hat in a show of manners so unusual she couldn’t help but be delighted. “You too.”

Without waiting for a response from Ethan she crossed the street and headed for her car, feeling his stare on her the entire time. She shut the door and let out a heavy sigh before starting the ignition, refusing to look back.

Well, damn. Better luck with that impression thing next time.

Chapter Three

Ethan tugged a fresh T-shirt over his head and pulled his phone from his pocket when it buzzed. But it wasn’t Marisol finally texting him, it was his sister. He was surprised by the amount of disappointment filtering through him as he slid it back into his pocket. He’d call Carmela back later.

“Wow, that’s a long face. Not who you were hoping for, huh?” Jake Evers said to him as he stored his equipment into a locker beside Ethan’s in the DEA facility they’d been training in all day.

He grunted in response.

Evers stopped and gave him a sharp look, lifted an eyebrow. “For you that reaction’s damn near testy, which can only mean one thing: you’re waiting on a woman to call you back. Who is she, this girl who hasn’t succumbed to the infamous Cruzie charm yet? I wanna meet her.”

“Yeah,” Nate “Doc” Schroder drawled to Evers’s right, watching Ethan with interest. “Anyone we know?” It had taken some getting used to, calling him plain Doc rather than Dr. Feelgood, the nickname everyone had used for the past several months. Schroder had made it clear anyone calling him the latter ever again would get a throat punch, now that he was with Taya. Since Ethan respected the former PJ, he’d abided by his wishes.

For the most part.

“Nope,” Ethan said. And he didn’t
want
them to know Marisol. Even though she had to be what, twenty-five by now, she was still way too innocent for the likes of him and his teammates. She’d always been like that, the serious middle child of the three Lorenzo girls.

Studious and hard working, she’d stayed home on Saturday night instead of partying it up with the local guys the way all her friends had. The virtuous air she’d had back then had been obvious and Ethan had made sure to look out for her. Innocence like that was to be protected and cherished, especially in their tough neighborhood.

Schroder shut his locker and leaned against it, arms folded across his chest. “Now that’s not gonna cut it with me. You were all over me about the scoop with Taya not even a month ago. Fair’s fair, dude. Spill.”

Ethan stowed his tactical vest in his locker and set some extra magazines on the top shelf, then shut the metal door. “It’s nothing, just an old friend I’m trying to help out.”

If she’d ever return his damn text or actually call him back. He knew she was busy working on the case, but damn. He’d gotten her number from his mom before leaving yesterday afternoon. Marisol was an educated adult and capable of taking care of herself, but he knew for a fact she’d never dealt with anyone like Fuentes and his crew. Even though Ethan hadn’t had contact with her over the past few years and they weren’t really friends anymore, he still cared and wanted her safe.

“What about you?” Schroder said to Vance, who’d just walked in the room a few seconds ago. “You know this girl he’s hung up on?”