Harlequin Intrigue June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: To Honor and To Protect\Cornered\Untraceable (5 page)

“It tore me up when I heard about his heart attack,” he confessed. “Long after the fact.”

She shifted in her chair once more, her hand reaching across the small table, but she caught herself before making contact.

Smart
, he thought. And he was grateful one of them had been. He couldn't be sure how he'd react to her touch. “You need to get some rest before we set out tomorrow,” he said, standing.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Staying here is certain suicide.”

“How do you figure that? Unless you were followed, I'll be fine.”

She had him there. Why couldn't he come up with a logical, convincing argument? Oh, yeah. He was distracted and overwhelmed by everything from her voice to her fierce determination. Watching her that day in the park had been bad, but this...this was a thousand times worse.

“I wasn't followed.” His skills weren't that rusty. That strange sensation of being in two places at once, the phenomenon he'd first encountered in that damned prison cell, crept up on him now. It was something the shrinks discovered and referred to as a critical risk. Losing it here and now wasn't an option. He couldn't let his weakness put her and the kid in jeopardy.

With a deep, slow breath, he met her gaze once more. “I wasn't followed,” he repeated when she continued to stare at him. “But I'd rather not deal with the swamp again tonight. I'll sleep down by the boat and we can discuss this in the morning.”

* * *

A
DDISON
COULDN
'
T
STOP
staring at him, cataloging the differences between then and now. He'd always been fit, but now he looked as though he could afford to pack a few more pounds on that wide-shouldered frame. Plenty of definition in his arms and rippling under the snug dark T-shirt, but it wasn't quite
him
. She found the biggest changes in his face. Deep lines framed his eyes and mouth, and the tension in his jaw made her think he never quit clenching his teeth. What had he been through that had turned a strong, confident man into someone so haunted, hard and grim? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Dreamlike
didn't begin to cover this. Her heart was stuck on “how” and “why” with frequent trips over questions about his new personal life. None of that mattered in the middle of the night in the bayou. She couldn't afford to let it matter come morning, either, but she could only win one battle at a time. It took all her willpower to push the right words past her lips. “You can't stay here.”

“I can't leave.”

She crossed her arms, fingernails digging into her biceps so she wouldn't reach for him again. Too tempting and far too risky. She suspected any physical contact would have her craving more, exactly as it had been between them from the moment they'd met. “You have to.” If he stayed, she would lean on him. Worse, she would collapse or cling. Neither option was acceptable.

“Addi, sweetheart. You don't have to do this alone.”

Again her heart tripped over the nickname, the sensation compounded by the familiar endearment and the sincerity shining in his brown eyes. “You have to go, Drew.”

“Not in the dark.”

“You made it here in the dark,” she said ungraciously.

“Bad timing,” he admitted. “And I did it for you. The same reason applies now. I'm not leaving until we reach an understanding.”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, remembering his mile-wide stubborn streak. Not unlike his son, when the man dug in, he wouldn't be budged.

Another worrisome thought chased the others through her mind. He didn't seem to know much about her and her son. Their son. Was it an act to throw her off? The obligations—personal and legal—niggled at her. Drew had a right to know Andy was his. “Fine. Take the hammock outside. We'll figure this out in the morning.”

“The hammock,” he repeated.

She cocked an eyebrow and stared him down in the same way she managed Andy when he was in a belligerent mood. “Screened porch. You found me. I trust you can find it.”

“You won't try and sneak away?”

“Not unless you've suddenly become a sound sleeper.” When they'd been together, it seemed he'd always slept with one eye open and his body ready to leap into action. She suppressed a needy shiver. Any kind of action.

“I wish,” he muttered.

“So go on. We'll be here when you wake up.”

With obvious reluctance, he walked out of the tiny cabin. She waited, listening to his soft footfalls as he walked across the rough planking to the other side of the cabin. When she heard the squeak of the hammock ropes, she turned out the lights.

Then she picked up the shotgun and moved her sleeping bag to Andy's side of the bedroom door. It was an immense relief to hear her son's soft, even breaths, confirming he hadn't been listening at the door the whole time.

Drew was alive. Her heart soared while her mind raced. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Drew was set on helping her, but she didn't see how his presence changed anything.

It infuriated her that her first instinct was to trust him. It was practically second nature to trust him, yet he'd been stateside all this time and had never reached out to her. That was the piece that cut so deeply and made her wary.

She knew the kind of friends Craig had on his side, knew he'd be scouring the country for any sign of her. If Craig's contacts—the ones who'd surely helped him escape—had any link to this Thomas Casey, she was screwed.

She heard a noise and held her breath, praying fervently it wasn't more trouble. Tonight had given her one surprise too many. Whatever she'd heard didn't repeat itself, but she listened closely just in case.

Drew was
alive
. Her heart rejoiced even as she resented him for staying away.

She couldn't tell illusion from reality, didn't trust her intuition when it came to men anymore. Had the love and affection she remembered so fondly with Drew been real? She pulled the necklace from under her shirt and ran the two charms along the fine gold chain. Why would a man who loved her the way he'd once claimed stay away?

On top of that, a woman didn't get more wrong about a man than she'd been about Craig. The floor creaked as she shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“Mama?”

“I'm here,” she answered her son's sleepy voice. “You're safe.”

“'Kay.”

As she stared in the direction of the ceiling, she vowed—again—to keep him safe. Physically and emotionally.

From the near-miss nasty stepfather and the unexpected arrival of his real dad, Addison knew keeping that vow would be a serious challenge.

Chapter Six

A few hours later, Drew came fully awake in an instant when he heard voices and movement inside the small shack. Calm voices, no sounds of struggle or distress. Sitting up, he scrubbed at his face. The hammock wasn't to blame for his bleary eyes and lousy mood. He'd survived far worse in years past. No, his current frustration, physically and with the mission, had everything to do with the woman on the other side of a very thin wall.

He wanted to kick down that wall along with all the others she'd built against him over the years. How could he have been thinking only of her while she'd forgotten about him? The killed-in-action report had an impact on her choices, he knew, and it was irrational to hold that against her. But being right here with her... Was it so much to ask that she want him, too?

Hinges creaked on the screen door and he listened to her soft steps come around the corner. Not wanting to advertise his past, he grabbed his T-shirt and covered the scars from his POW days.

She stayed on the other side of the torn screen wall, her arms folded across her chest. “You're still here.”

“Told you I would be.” He should never have agreed to this. Should've taken the offer to consult Casey's search. In a figure-hugging tank and cutoff denim shorts, her body was shown to perfection today. He'd always loved her generous curves, but it was clear she'd been putting in hours to keep herself strong and fit. He wanted to look away but couldn't stop staring. “Are you ready to get going?”

She shook her head. “Do you have to start in on that again?”

“Yes.”

“No,” she said, rubbing her finger where her engagement ring should've been. “Can't this wait? Coffee is brewing and breakfast will be ready shortly.”

“Breakfast?” he echoed.

“Most important meal of the day, right? We can hash this out after we eat.” She tilted her head. “I've got everything ready for Andy's favorite, pancakes and scrambled eggs.”

The statement gave him a chill. Add a side of bacon and it would've been his favorite breakfast, too. How could she stand there as if it were a normal, everyday thing to have pancakes and eggs in the middle of the swamp when an escaped traitor was hunting her? “I need...” He coughed, clearing away the swell of emotions clogging his throat. “I need to check the perimeter.”

There, that was much better than blurting out the needs his body urged him to share. What he'd noticed about her last night became more obvious in the clear morning light: her classic, Southern beauty hadn't faded a bit. It hadn't been artificially enhanced by his infatuation and unfulfilled longing or the poor lighting last night.

“You think someone followed you?” Her eyes went wide.

He cursed himself for worrying her. “No.” The attraction, the damned pull of her, the need to protect, rode him as hard as ever. Annoyed, he stomped into his boots with more force than necessary, and the planked floorboards rattled. “But it's my job to keep you safe, and I'm going to do my job the right way. You've been here long enough for people to start talking.”

“No one's talking about me. No one knows me out here anymore.”

“Addi,” he warned.

She held up her hands. “Fine.”

He recognized the loaded delivery behind that single word. “If no one's onto you, it won't take me long to check.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, remembering a few lazy mornings when they'd shared coffee and the paper in bed. Maybe they'd moved too fast back then and would already have burned each other out. He didn't believe it, but thanks to the damned assignment, he'd never know. “Hold a pancake for me.”

“Andy's out of the bathroom if you want to grab a shower before the, um, perimeter thing.”

“There's a bathroom?”

She laughed, the delighted sound washing over him, soothing him. “Nico made a few improvements despite his mother's simple wishes. The pump keeps a decent water pressure.”

“Swamp guide and engineer.”

“All Cajun,” she said with a shrug.

“Yeah.” He remembered the stories she'd shared with him. “I'll grab a shower when I'm back.” He wasn't about to get stuck with his pants down—literally—until he knew they were safe. “Do you have a bug-out bag ready?”

“A what?”

“An emergency kit,” he explained. “In case you have to run?”

She rubbed one bare foot up and down her shin. “We didn't bring that much along to begin with.”

“I'll take care of it,” he said. “If I'm not back in twenty minutes, I want the two of you to leave.”

“And go where?”

“Deeper into the swamp. You'll figure out something.”

“Drew—”

With his hand on the screen door between them, he hesitated, waiting for her to move. He needed even this small shield between them or he couldn't be responsible for the fallout. He wanted to hold her nearly as much as he wanted to keep breathing. “I'll be back in twenty.”

“All right.” She turned around, heading back into the cabin.

He couldn't take his eyes off the soft swing of her hips as she strolled away. He couldn't pull his mind back from the days when she'd welcomed his touch, when they'd held hands and talked about their hopes for the future.

“Hey,” he called out.

She paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

“You didn't go the legal aid route. To the JAG office,” he added at her blank look.

“They have no jurisdiction over Craig's dealings.”

“No. Back then.”

“Oh. A lot of things changed after...” She reached for her necklace.

The unspoken words were rattling through his mind. He knew she blamed him. He shouldered that old responsibility along with the new ones heaped on him by Director Casey. Trudging down the rickety steps while Addison ducked inside, he put his mind into guard-and-protect mode. No sense dwelling on what he couldn't have.

When he'd gone out to San Francisco and seen her with the man and boy, he'd known the fantasy that had carried him through his days as a prisoner was just that—fantasy. He didn't regret those fantasies; he'd just struggled to find his purpose without the army's guidance or Addison's support.

The youth center in his old neighborhood was up and running now, the renovation time shortened by his absolute lack of distraction. Absolute lack of a personal life. Drew checked the boat, pleased to find his gear still tied in place. Above him, he heard the muted voices of mother and son, and another flare of jealousy scorched his already raw heart.

“Focus,” he muttered. He might be the only man on Earth able to find Addi, and that made him the only man who could keep her alive. He could radio his position to Casey's team or switch on one of the transmitters, but it would be one more thing on her list of unforgivables. Drew didn't want that. For either of them.

Coming in at dusk, watching and waiting until full dark to make his presence known, he hadn't been able to set much beyond the cursory alerts around the area. A calculated risk, but he'd been extremely cautious as he'd made a circuitous way through the bayou to Mama Leonie's famous shack.

Walking quietly along the water's edge, he kept an eye out for alligators or the more vicious human predators. He scanned the trees, keeping a careful mental record of where and when the shack was in view. He had a few dreamworthy gadgets from Casey's department, but he wasn't willing to blow them all at once. He wanted to give her protection without leaving a road map for Everett's connections. Anyone who could successfully stage an escape and avoid recapture for this long was undeniably dangerous.

Addison might think she was okay out here, she might believe Everett wouldn't bother beyond a cursory search of her hometown in Mississippi, but Casey felt differently. Making a home in the bayou, off the radar, wouldn't be enough for someone determined to silence her. One day someone or something would slip and then all hell would break loose.

From what he understood, turning Everett in messed with the money and plans of several high-level bad guys. Although he admired her integrity and courage, she'd put a nice bright target on her head that wouldn't fade anytime soon.

Looking around, Drew had to side with Casey on this one. Although there was no connection between Addison and Mama Leonie's swamp home, it wasn't impossible to find this place. It might lack any evidence of civilization at first glance, but it wasn't far enough from the marked trails the professional guides used. Drew thought she was underestimating Everett as well as the local fascination with this place. He bent down, noting the size and shape of footprints that indicated children had been playing out here lately. That immediately vetoed his more lethal perimeter security options, but Drew's bigger concern remained: how long until her son encountered one or more of these kids and their seclusion was blown?

On top of all that, he knew Addison. She couldn't hide in the middle of nowhere forever. Her son needed an education, friends, community and support beyond the basics she could give him. She wasn't the sort to skimp on her values or priorities.

A breeze wafted through the treetops, sending them swaying. He checked his watch and swiftly reset a few “tells” so he'd know if anyone came this way.

When he'd completed the circuit, he grabbed the gear bag out of his boat and headed up the stairs to the shack once more. Reprieve over, it was time for round three. Maybe the third conversation would be the charm that convinced Addison to cooperate.

He walked in and set down his bag just inside the door. The kitchen, which a moment before had been full of happy conversation, went silent.

Addison forced a smile onto her face. “Right on time.”

He nodded. “Perimeter is clear,” he said.

“What's a perimeter?”

“We'll discuss it later,” Addi replied, making a face that told Drew to shut up. “We held breakfast for you.” She stood and crossed to the stove.

“You didn't have to.” He wasn't sure what to do or where to go. He didn't want to sit down with the kid at the table, and there wasn't much room to help Addison with breakfast.

“We wanted to.” She turned her attention to the griddle sizzling on the woodstove. “Drew, meet Andy. Andy, say hello to my friend Drew.”

“Hello.”

“Hi,” Drew replied.

The kid looked at him, eyes narrow as he assessed Drew, then twisted around in his seat to look at Addison. “You said Nico was the only friend we had out here. You said everyone else was strangers.”

“I didn't expect Drew to visit us out here.”

What an understatement, he thought. “I didn't expect it, either,” he added, bringing the kid's attention back to him. That day in the park, he hadn't gotten close enough, but now... “Where's your dad?”

“In heaven,” Andy said.

Drew heard Addison drop something, but he kept his gaze on Andy.

“Mom says he watches over us.”

“That's good. You know, I thought Craig Everett was your daddy.”

“He was gonna be, but Mom said our plans got changed.” Andy knew how to spit out the party line, but he obviously wasn't pleased about it. “I wanted a dad.”

“Drew, would you like two eggs or three?” Addi asked, her tone overly bright as she changed the subject.

“Three,” he replied, feeling happier than he should that this conversation made her uncomfortable.

“I timed you.” Andy twisted his arm around to give Drew a good look at the watch. “Mom said to time you because I wanted to eat.”

“That's a great watch.” Drew admired the Captain America watch. “How long did you have to wait?”

“Nineteen minutes.”

Drew gave an approving hum. “Thanks for being patient.”

Addison put a platter of fresh pancakes on the table along with a small pitcher of syrup. “Take it easy,” she said to Andy. “Everyone will want some.”

“Okay.” He looked at Drew again. “My mom makes the best syrup.”

“That's a good skill to have.”

He watched, mesmerized by the kid as he carefully smeared melting butter over his short stack of pancakes. Then, sitting up on his knees, Andy grabbed the syrup pitcher and drizzled the warm, maple-scented liquid as if he were performing for a commercial.

“Easy,” Addi reminded him. “Eggs are nearly done.”

Andy put the pitcher back on the table and grabbed his fork to dig in.

“Impressive spread, considering the limitations.”

“Mom is resourceful,” Andy said, expressing the big word slowly around his mouthful of pancakes.

“Chew first,” Addi reminded him without looking away from the stove. “And swallow.”

Drew got up and propped open the door, letting some of the heat out of the small room. “Smells so good, you're likely to draw in some company.”

“I've told you no one knows we're here.”

“Nico does,” Andy piped up. “Drew does.”

“No one
else
,” she clarified. “Mama Leonie didn't have neighbors out here.”

“I don't know. People might follow their noses to this amazing breakfast,” Drew said, taking the bowl piled high with seasoned scrambled eggs. “Is this dill?” He inhaled deeply when she nodded. “Can't wait.” What did it mean that she'd made his favorite eggs?

“Me, neither.” Immediately, Andy looked contrite. “May I have some, too, please?”

“Sure, squirt. There's enough here for everyone.”

“I'm not a squirt.”

“No offense meant.” Drew sat down once more, the small table barely big enough for Addi to join them. “Do you have a nickname you like?”

The boy slid a glance at his mother, thoughtfully considering the question. Recognition slammed into Drew like a cold fist. He'd seen that particular furrow between the eyebrows on his father's face, caught the same expression on his own face more than once. The boy might've wanted to be called Godzilla for all Drew knew. The shock had created a sudden, loud buzzing in his ears, momentarily blocking out everything else.