Reid's Deliverance (11 page)

Her palms slid from his sweat-slickened shoulders. Her heavy eyelids refused to open. Cocooned in warmth, his delicious weight pressing into her. She wanted to melt into him and stay forever.

* * * *

Danger and urgency gripped Reid in his dream. He struggled to wakefulness. Heart galloping, he sat up on the queen-sized bed. Light peeked through the blinds. It illuminated the unfamiliar wood furnishings and paintings of mountains on the wall. Unease raised hairs on his nape. Lauren released a soft protest in her sleep. Her warmth smoothed the cold, rough edges of uncertainty. She tugged the beige covers and rolled to the other side of the mattress.

He slipped out of bed and went to the window. Lingering images replaced the view of the trees. Blue pieces of paper had fallen around him like confetti. They’d disintegrated before hitting the ground. He’d tried desperately to snatch them out of the air. Finally, he’d caught one. It had a name written on it.
Samson.
The paper had melted into blood dripping from his fingers. Who was Samson? What did the dream mean? Was Samson in trouble or a threat to him?

“Good morning.” Lauren sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. Tousled hair, rosy skin, lips swollen from kisses. Coupled with the desire in her eyes she was breathtakingly sexy.

Reid’s balls tightened. His cock jerked to life. Feed the hunger and walk away. That’s what he’d planned yesterday. Need had sucked him back in, just like now. He sat on the bed. “Hey, beautiful.”

She laughed. “You know you don’t have to sweet talk me.”

Reid nuzzled her throat. The appealing musky scent of sex surrounding them erased the dream.
Why am I so addicted to her?
“Is it working?” He circled her raised nipple through the sheet.

Lauren moaned. “Yes, but…I can’t.” The ease of passion shifted.

Damn. What a dick. Sleeping with her didn’t give him special privileges. He’d invaded her life. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Wait. It’s not that I don’t want to.” She laughed ruefully. “I could stay in bed with you all day, but I can’t use it as an excuse to avoid what I came here to do. I have to start today.” Welling moisture reflected in her eyes. “This was my Dad’s place.”

He took her hand. “When did you lose him?”

“He died of a heart attack last year. The timing sucked. Not that there’s ever a good time to die unexpectedly.” She blew out a breath. “He was about to retire in a few months. Anyway, the boxes upstairs in the loft belonged to him. I’ve been putting off going through them, but it’s time.”

“Want help?” With all the shit on his plate, had he honestly asked that? But he couldn’t leave knowing she struggled with loss.

“Not if you feel obligated. You don’t owe me anything.”

But he did. She tried to untangle her fingers from his, but he held on. “It’s not obligation. I want to. I can stay one more day.”

Lauren gave him a contemplative look. A smile slowly replaced a frown. “All right. We’ll take it day by day.”

“I said one more day.”

“I know, but I was thinking about it. I don’t think you should go. Yesterday, you said you could be in danger. Without your memory, you may not recognize who’s a threat.”

“And that’s exactly why I should leave.”

“But—”

He cupped her face and placed his thumb on her lips. “Memory or not, I can handle danger. What I can’t handle is you being hurt or in trouble because of me.”

Her brow crinkled with a stubborn expression. She tugged his hand away. “We already had this conversation. I don’t believe you’d have come to me if you knew it wasn’t safe to do it.”

“I have to find out who I am. Just like you can’t put off what I came here to do. I can’t let being here stop me from finding out.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Who knows what else you’ll recall if you give yourself until the end of the week. I mean, what else are you going to do, hike around until you remember something? Stay.”

Just being near her pushed buttons that lowered his resolve. “We’ll take it day by day.”

“That’s fine for now.” She grinned. “I’ll just have to convince you I’m right.”

No doubt she’d try. “Are you sweet talking me, beautiful?”

“Absolutely. The same way you’re sweet talking me.” Lauren nudged him back on the bed. She stroked his length from base to tip. “Is it working?”

Need socked out the air in his lungs. He bucked from the mattress. “Too well.”

“Good.”

Lauren pumped him slowly in her hand. The desire in her eyes made him shake. She thumbed away pre-cum from his cock. As she swirled it over the tip shivers racked down his spine. The welcome torture ended when she finally rolled the condom on him. Heaven washed over Reid as she sank down on his length. The rise and fall of her hips forced hard exhales. She lightly scored his nipples and tingles traveled down to his balls. His heart pounded. Her gaze trapped him. She trapped him with some invisible bond he didn’t want to break. He couldn’t remember his past, but innate understanding made it clear. He’d never connected like this with another woman. He strummed her clit. Her thighs quivered. Her pussy pulsed as she lost rhythm and cried out his name. As she came apart, Reid followed, wishing he never had to leave.

Lauren took the stairs up to the loft. Cardboard boxes and plastic storage tubs sat stacked on the floor. What would she find? Would she discover what distance and death had kept her from understanding?

Reid joined her. “Where do we start?”

The first large box was as good as any. “With this one.”

He gave her the box cutter. “I’ll let you open and sort. Just tell me where to put what.”

“All right.” Lauren dried her palm on her faded jeans. She opened the box and tossed aside the crumpled packing paper. An exhale filled with relief and a tinge of disappointment blew out. What had she expected to find? “Sleeping bags.” She handed the two rolled bundles to Reid.

He peeked into the box. “Pots and pans. Folding shovel. Tent pegs. Looks like camping gear.”

She looked through it. “It’s all brand new.”

“Donate or keep?” He held up a black marker.

Seduction wouldn’t keep Reid from leaving. In a few days, he’d hike into the woods. Staying under the radar would mean spending nights outdoors. He wouldn’t take money, but this wasn’t charity. She’d broach the subject later. “Keep.”

He marked the box. “Are you keeping the pots and pans, too?”

“Why?”

He grinned. “Oh nothing. Just didn’t see you as the cooking over the campfire type.”

“What? You don’t think I can cook? I happen to make the best camp stove oatmeal. I also make a kickass marinade for barbecue.” He didn’t look convinced.

“What?” He raised a brow. “I believe you.”

“Uh-huh.” She whacked him.

“Ow.” He rotated his shoulder. Hard muscle flexed underneath his shirt as he mocked pain. “I think you broke something.”

“Stop whining and move the box.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“You weren’t complaining this morning.”

“And I won’t complain later.” He winked and gave her a sexy smile.

Her worn T-shirt grew overly warm.
Later.
Anticipation loosed flutters. Sex brain. She couldn’t stand next to him without wanting to take off her clothes and strip off his.

They unpacked more boxes. One had books. “
Missing Link
.
Silent Scream
.”

Reid looked up. “What did you say?”

“I was just reading the titles of the books. My dad and I both liked mysteries and thrillers. He’d send me some of his favorites from his collection. I’d send him a few of mine.” She picked up another. The corners of some of the pages were creased. Her father’s way of bookmarking his spot.

Reid stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You and your dad sharing a love of books. That’s a wonderful memory to hold onto.”

She settled back, relishing his strength and the comfort of having him to lean on. “We lost touch when I was growing up. Reading was the one thing that helped us reestablish a relationship.”

He kissed her temple. “Are you sure you don’t want them?”

Keeping them would bring good memories, but she could have that every time she picked out a new book, too. “Maybe I’ll keep a few.”

She sorted through and took out ones that interested her.

Reid placed the remainder in the corner designated for donations.

Sadness mixed with nostalgia crushed in. If her father hadn’t chosen the army first for so many years, they could have connected sooner.
Stop.
Bursting into tears wasn’t fair to Reid. He’d signed up to help her get the job done, not watch her cry.

“We need music.” She snagged her phone from the top of a box and pulled up her playlist of rock and pop classics.

A song by Aerosmith filled the silence.

Reid sang along, not missing a word. He had a great voice and even kept in tune on the higher notes.

The next song caused him to break into air guitar mode. Even clowning around, he looked like a natural.

He pantomimed intense facial expressions as if he were really into the music.

A laugh spilled out of her, lifting a heavy weight. She pretended to be a fan and cheered.

The song switched to a love ballad. He pulled her away from opening a box and maneuvered her into slow dance position.

The smooth, velvety tones of his voice filled the loft.

She laid her head on his shoulder and followed his lead into an easy sway. It felt good in his arms. Everything about him felt familiar and right. They even fit perfectly in bed. No first timer’s awkwardness in falling asleep together. It was almost if they’d done it before. He even knew which side of the mattress she preferred.

Just her luck. The one time she really wanted to keep seeing a guy, she couldn’t. But how selfish could she be? His problems trumped starting a relationship. She’d go crazy if she couldn’t remember her past and the people she loved. Something had to jar his memory. Lauren traced over his shoulder. People got tattoos for personal reasons. It had to have meaning.

Reid stroked up and down her back. “What are you thinking about?”

“Your dragon tat. It’s pretty distinctive. Could you be a musician?” With his gorgeous looks, if he were on stage, women would throw themselves at him.

“You mean like in a band?” He chuckled. “Singing feels natural to me, but so does dancing with you.”

Push the point and try to get him to remember something, or stay in the lightness of the moment? His arms tightening around her made the decision. She snuggled into him and closed her eyes. The clean scent of soap warmed by his skin surrounded her. The melodic hum vibrating from his chest lulled her into silence.

The song ended but they didn’t move apart. Why couldn’t they just stay this way? Reluctantly, she let him go. Before she stepped away, he tipped up her chin. His gaze studied her as if he were taking in every feature on her face. Reid brushed his lips softly against hers. He swirled his tongue into her mouth. Desire rose sharp and quick.

He broke away and rested his forehead against hers. “Why don’t we finish these smaller boxes and call it a day?”

“Sounds good.”

Her fingers shook as she pried open the first box amid sensual images of how they’d spend the rest of the afternoon. A hard rectangle wrapped in tissue sat on top. She unwrapped it. Sun bounced off the glass covering the framed watercolor sketch of the cabin in late fall. Clouds hung in a sunny, blue sky. The first snow of the season capped the mountain in the background. Orange and red leaves lay on the browning lawn like confetti. Smoke curled from the chimney. Shock and pain constricted her chest. It slipped from her hands.

Reid caught it before it fell to the floor. “Got it. This is nice? Who painted it?”

“My dad.” A reminder of the day her father completely shattered her heart.

Reid moved to set it in the keep pile.

“No.” The snap in her voice reverberated.

His head swiveled her direction.

She forced a calm, even tone. “I have one like it. Someone else may enjoy that one.”

“But it won’t have the same sentimental value for them. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”

“Very.”

“Huh.” His gaze moved from her to the sketch. He looked as if he wanted to ask a question. “All right.” Reid wrapped it carefully and set it in one of the boxes slated for giveaway.

Unfinished sketches, drawing, and painting supplies filled the box. She hadn’t inherited her father’s talent. Why keep them? They went to the giveaway pile, too.

Relief descended as they dug into the last box of the day. Assorted screwdrivers, wrenches, and other tools were mostly organized in zippered cases. Reid unzipped one and paused. The vibe around him shifted. A sharper edge with a hint of danger. He laid the open case with the gun on top of a stack of boxes. “Glock 22. Accurate, reliable. It’s a good weapon. Did your father like to shoot?”

“Yes. Dad owned a variety of guns.”

In a few precise movements, Reid cleared and sighted the pistol. “Do you own one?”

“Yes.”

“When you found me, did you have it on you?”

“No. I didn’t need it. You were hurt.”

Reid’s jawline hardened. “Like hell you didn’t.” He put the pistol back into the case and jerked the zipper closed. “Your father should have trained you better. You have to be cautious in a place like this. Always keep your guard up and your gun on you with a chambered round.”

The command in his tone hit her like a slap. Irritation streamed through her blood. “My father didn’t need to train me because I wasn’t one of his soldiers. I didn’t take orders from him, and I’m not taking them from you.”

Lauren stormed out of the loft. A guy bossing her around? Double hell no to that. She reached the bottom of the stairs, Reid right behind her.

He spun her around. “Lauren.”

“No.” She wrenched her arm away. “Excuse me for choosing to drag your ass out of the rain instead of holding a gun to your head. And as far as training, my mother taught me how to handle a gun. My father wasn’t around to teach me. He left.” A wave of sorrow caught her off guard. She gulped down a sob. “That sentimental picture upstairs represents one of the best worst days of my life, after my parent’s divorce. It started out with pancakes, lemonade, a beautiful hike in the woods, and ice cream—all of my favorite things—and it ended with him telling me his next duty station was overseas. He kept getting promoted and got busier and busier, and he never came back.”