Trust No One (52 page)

“Interesting. And Keith?”

“Dead this time. For good. They recovered his body.” And with that, relief had settled on MJ. Watching him die the second time seemed to be a catharsis she needed. Warped as that sounded.

“I have to find Niko, then we can pursue Jeff. And there’s still that Russian connection.” Tasha ticked off her list, as determined as ever.

“If you haven’t noticed, you’re a little shot up.”

“It’s not like you can go after him.”

A pang fell over MJ at the realization. “No, I can’t.”

“I’ve got time to recover anyway. I can’t possibly go to Russia in the winter. I might be Russian, but I’m not fond of frigid temperatures, and we might have to travel some rough terrain to get out of there.”

“It’s going to be tough enough after winter.”

“At least I have an idea of where to start looking for him,” Tasha said.

MJ cocked her head, trying to access a memory. “I seem to remember hearing there was a man at Vista who was once in a Russian prison–”

“Matt Kincaid.” Tasha nodded. “He was my partner for a time.”

Surprised lifted MJ’s eyebrows. “You had a partner?”

“I know, hard to believe, right?” A brief smile flitted on her face. “Once upon a time we were partners, yes. For a short while.”

“Then maybe he’ll help?”

Tasha frowned. “I already asked. He said no.”

What an impossible situation. MJ worked hard not to be discouraged; she’d run into tough problems before, but this time Niko’s life might be on the line. The possibility of never seeing Niko again was all too real.

Tasha had no trouble reading MJ’s mind. “I’ll get him, MJ.” She clasped MJ’s hand. “I’ll get him.”

Chapter 30

Later that night as MJ slept, she thought she was having an erotic dream sharing a passionate kiss with Ben, when she realized the dream was real.

What the hell? She opened her eyes. Turning her head to break the lip lock, she looked into Ben’s eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Why is it you always ask me that? Am I really such a bad kisser you have to ask?”

“Perhaps if you didn’t wake me out of a sound sleep by trying to take out my tonsils . . .”

“Take out your tonsils? Ouch.”

The baby stirred. Both froze.

“Shh, you don’t want to wake the kid,” Ben said in a tone that indicated he’d had enough experience with Angelina crying.

She smiled at the look on Ben’s face. Glancing next to her, Angel still slept.

“As for what I’m doing, don’t be dense. Can you put her in the crib?”

Angel lay on the big bed with the crib pulled up to the side as a makeshift bed rail. “I’m not being dense. I think you ought to consider whether I want the same thing you want.”

“You don’t? You saying once was enough?”

“I think once was too much.”

“Really?” He leaned closer, so close his nose touched hers, his lips were moving on top of hers. “You really think that?”

He smelled so great she had to restrain herself from pulling him near. She couldn’t meet his gaze, and his smile stretched against her lips.

Be practical, she told herself. “We’re in your parents’ house.”

“And there’s a baby in our bed.”

“Our bed?”

“Okay, my bed.”

MJ stiffened. “Excuse me? This doesn’t look like a guy’s room.”

“It used to be my room.” His baritone voice held laughter as she processed where she was.

“Still,” she faltered, scrambling for a comeback. “I don’t see you sleeping in this room.”

“When I visit, I stay somewhere else on the ranch. I’ll show you later. But for now, the kid . . . ?”

“Your parents?”

“Their room is on the other side of the house.”

“I can’t move her without waking her.”

“Okay, have it your way.”

She felt his weight lift off the bed, and she barely had time to feel disappointed, when he jerked the comforter off the bed, and tossed it on the floor.

“What?”

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence because he was lifting her off the bed, and putting her on top of the comforter on the floor.

“What are you doing?” She tried to scramble up, but he pressed against her. The weight and feel of him sent her senses into overdrive.

“Yes?”

She stopped and stared at him.

“No answer? No reason to justify why you’re fighting it?”

No, not a single reason she could think of, damn it. “Shut up.”

“I won’t gloat.” He brushed a kiss on her lips. “Much.”

“Angel might fall off the bed.” She used the excuse as a half-hearted warning, irritated with herself how easily she was giving into temptation.

He reached up, grabbed the pillows on the bed and lined them against the side. “There. Now if she gets over those pillows, she’ll fall on us. Is that good enough?”

“I guess I could put her in the crib. . .”

“Don’t even think about moving.” He settled his weight more firmly on top of her. Pressed his lips to hers.

“Okay, then,” she said before she couldn’t talk anymore.

* * *

Ben left her room before morning, and when she awoke she was still lying on the floor, naked and covered with the comforter. She noticed he didn’t leave her car keys behind either. Deliberate? Regardless, it wasn’t like she was going to sneak off and leave him behind, even if she’d been known to do that once or twice. She tamped down a little feeling of guilt.

It wasn’t like she needed to leave anyway since she had no job to return to at the moment. It would make more sense to stay close to the hospital and visit Tasha. MJ remembered how lonely it was being injured and trapped in a hospital bed with nothing but strangers around.

But one thing was for sure, she couldn’t stay here and keep imposing on Ben’s family. She’d get her car and head for a hotel later this morning.

By the time MJ had jumped in the shower and dressed, Angel was awake. With the toddler plopped on her hip, MJ made her way to the kitchen, following the smell of food. Abby stood in front of the stove flipping pancakes. If Tex kept the shop closed down for too long, maybe MJ would go back home and learn to cook breakfast herself.

Ben sat at the table, already eating. MJ managed to casually meet his gaze without blushing. After all, she was an adult, and she could pretend the guilt she felt for having sex under his parents’ roof didn’t exist.

She realized then, that she should probably act as if she hadn’t known he was here. “You better not have gotten a scratch on my car.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’d you get Lauryn to turn over the keys?”

“I’m a charming person.”

“Ben, you shouldn’t tell lies so early in the morning,” Abby said. “How would you like your eggs, MJ?”

Ben shook his head. “I never get a fair shake. Always too many women around ganging up on me.”

“Do what your dad does, get up early and go out to work before anyone else is around to gang up on you.”

“And miss all this fun?”

“He just likes being contrary,” Abby informed MJ.

She grinned. “I learned that early on.”

“Here, I’ll feed Angelina, and you eat,” Ben said, “then I’ll take you on a tour of the ranch.”

“You’ll feed . . . ?”

“I have experience,” he said and held out his hands to the baby, who went willingly enough to his arms.

“Traitor,” MJ said to her daughter.

“Smart women can’t resist me,” Ben said.

Abby coughed, MJ said “hmph.”

“You saying your daughter isn’t smart?”

Well, she couldn’t very well deny it, could she? Angel sat happily on his lap letting him feed her a breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes.

After breakfast, he pulled on Angelina’s jacket. “Grab her car seat, we’re going in my truck.”

His truck was prehistoric. Early to mid-60s Chevrolet. Close to the same age as her Mustang, maybe a little older.

“1965?”

“’66.”

“There wasn’t a lot of difference in the two. The year after, 1967, they changed the look.”

“You just a car enthusiast or what?”

“In a small town where I live, a lot of people are thrifty and drive their trucks a long time. I’m not going to believe you’ve been driving this truck since 1966 though.”

“No, given I wasn’t even a gleam in my father’s eye then. It was my dad’s first truck, and it was his dad’s first new truck.”

“This truck has been in your family all these years?”

Ben nodded.

“I guess you understand thrifty then.”

“I do like what you did with your Mustang, maybe you can do that with this truck one day.”

She wasn’t sure how to answer, was there a double meaning behind his words, or just a genuine interest in her rebuilding the truck?

She chose not to answer. “Why are we going on a tour?”

“I thought you might like to look around. I figured the sooner, the better, since you’ll no doubt be heading back to Texas soon.”

“I’m in no rush. I thought I’d stay around and visit Tasha until she’s better.”

“What about your job?”

“Tex closed the shop.”

“What?”

“Temporarily. Dottie’s pretty shook up about losing Angel.”

“Sorry about that. If I’d had any other choice . . .”

“I know.”

“So you have some time?”

“I won’t be staying with your mom.”

“Why not? You’re a girl. She likes girls.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You–”

“And if I stayed, you’d be sneaking into my room, and I’m really uncomfortable having sex in your family home.”

“I understand. We can have sex in my home.”

“You live . . .” she frowned. “I thought you lived in DC.”

“My home here.”

“You have a separate home from your family?”

“It used to be a ranch hand’s house. I had to get away from so many women. They really do gang up on me, you know.”

He drove along, turned on a dirt road that was little more than a path. 

A dozen cows roamed out in the pasture. They drove until they came to a big barn. Ben stopped the truck, and opened his door. “Hop out.”

“This is your house?” Please, no.

“This is a barn. I know you’re from a big city, but I figured you’d lived in a small town long enough to know the difference between a barn and a house.”

MJ took Angel out of the car seat and held her propped on her hip. “You deserve having your sisters gang up on you. Some barns have living quarters in them.”

“Not this one. Even if it did, I don’t have a fondness for barns. I spent too many hours mucking them out.”

“I never mucked one out, but barns don’t hold fond memories for me either. Too many rats.”

“Don’t like rats?”

“I like them just fine if I have a big gun.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Are we agreeing?”

“Careful there, we might be in danger of actually getting along.” He leaned close, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Not a chance.” MJ held on while Angelina squirmed to get down.

“We get along well in bed.”

“That’s because you’re not talking.”

Ben kissed her, not a quick peck, but a genuine spine-tingling kiss. She was awed at how he worked it while she was holding a squirming toddler.

“Yeah, why waste time talking when there’s much better things to do with your lips,” he teased.

“Ben, not in front . . .”

“Shh.” He placed a finger on her lips.

Of the baby, she’d meant to say, but Angelina said instead, “Momma.” She squirmed harder.

“Let her down to run.”

“What?”

“So by the time we get to my place, she’ll be ready for a nap.”

“Do you understand what no means?”

“Haven’t heard you say it.”

“Oh.” He was right, damn it.

“Are you going to say it?”

She pinched her lips together and huffed through her nose.

“I thought not,” he gloated.

His house was a small wood frame ranch house that she’d guess predated his classic truck. But it was in good repair, the paint new and the yard well kept. Inside, the floors were hardwood, sanded smooth and varnished, and the walls were painted white with a few framed photographs—shots of the ranch, his family, his horse, a dog who was the great grandfather of those puppies playing with Cy, and a few family portraits as well.