When Bruce Met Cyn (17 page)

Her gaze snapped over to him, and slowly, her frown bloomed into a smile. “Worrying over my well-being, Lancelot?”

She hadn't called him names in a while. Bruce wasn't sure what that meant. “You haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Dismissing him, she looked back to the television while patting her full breasts. “Trust me, I've got plenty of fat to keep me from starving.”

Bruce considered her a long moment, decided he had nothing to lose, and leaned forward to take her mouth.

She stiffened, her mouth firm, her eyes open. He wasn't discouraged. He cupped one hand to her cheek, and continued to kiss her. Soft, teasing…and she melted.

Her arms came around him and she parted her lips.

Bruce pulled her down on the bed beneath him and sealed their mouths together. Her nails curled into his shoulder. He
really
liked that.

Smiling, he lifted his head. “Signs of life.” His thumbs brushed her temples. “Finally.”

She blinked slumberous eyes and frowned. “What?”

“Don't shut me out, honey.” He kissed her nose, her chin. “I can't bear it.”

With fury brightening her eyes, she accused, “You only kissed me to—”

“Get a response.” He considered kissing her again. “I always want a response when I kiss you. It's no fun if I'm enjoying it all on my own.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You were ignoring me, Cyn, pretending I wasn't here. Conversation got me nowhere. But you need to eat, and we need to talk. At least a kiss got you out of your stupor.”

She erupted. “Get off!”

“No.”

“No?”

Her dramatic, exaggerated incredulity was amusing, and preferable to no emotion at all. Bruce shook his head. “I like touching you. You might be so tough that you don't need to be held, even after all that happened this afternoon. But I'm a preacher. We're notoriously wimpy.
I
need to be held.”

Caught between her anger and the urge to defend him, she finally growled, “You are
not
a wimp.”

She was so adorable. “Am too.”

“Bull.” She smacked his shoulder. “You're rock solid, and totally hunky, and what's more, you know it. From the beginning, I told you that you didn't look like a preacher. And when I saw you the first time without your shirt…” Words failed her for a few heartbeats, and then grudgingly, she admitted, “I almost swallowed my tongue.”

“Yeah?”

She didn't appreciate his smile one bit. “You're just claiming you need to be held to make me cave.”

Bruce nuzzled the softest part of her neck where it met her shoulder, and was rewarded with her small shiver. He could kiss her forever and it wouldn't be enough.

Against her skin, he whispered, “I'm saying it because I want you to smile. I care for you, whether you feel the same about me or not.”

She stiffened again.

“When you hurt, it hurts me, too.” Bruce leaned back up to see her face. “And I am hurting, Cyn. For you. For what that young girl went through. At the same time, I am so damn proud of you.”

Her hands quit shoving against him and instead rested on his shoulders. Suspicion had her brow puckering and her mouth tight. “Proud?”

“Very, very proud. Look at you, at who you are and all you went through to get there.”

“I'm—”

His finger pressed over her mouth, shushing her. “We're done mentioning the whole hooker thing. That's in the past. You did what you did, and it's over. Now you're here, with me. There are problems to solve, issues to deal with, and I want to help you with those.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and drew his hand away. “Isn't there some other pathetic person you can go pester?”

A man could only take so much. Driven by a flood of anger, Bruce pushed himself off the bed. He stared down at her, refusing to be drawn in again by the uncertainty in her rebellious expression.

He turned away, snatched up the car keys from the nightstand, and stormed out of the room. If he stayed, he'd throttle the little fool. Pathetic? Is that what she thought? Is that how she still saw herself?

He stomped through the motel, across the parking lot, and just as he reached the rental car, a hand came out and grabbed his arm.

Fury rushing to the fore, Bruce turned, cocked back a fist—and almost punched Joe Winston in the nose.

 

To his credit, Joe didn't flinch. Behind a disguise of mirrored sunglasses and a trucker's hat, he gave a sinner's grin, slapped Bruce on the shoulder hard enough to dislocate his arm, and said, “Hey, killer. Let's talk in the car.”

Bemused and rattled after that close call, Bruce got behind the wheel while Joe folded his large frame into the passenger seat.

The car faced the motel, so Bruce would be able to see Cyn if she tried to run out on him. Not that he thought she would, but he wouldn't underestimate her. She needed time to stew alone; being alone was familiar to her, much as he wished otherwise.

Again, Bruce tried to remind himself that she needed time to become accustomed to him—

“I'm not really used to being ignored.”

Mentally castigating himself, Bruce turned to Joe. “Sorry.” He blew out a long breath. “I've got a lot on my mind.”

“No shit. I thought you were going to walk right past me. That is, until you decided to deck me instead.”

Bruce locked his jaw. “Sorry about that.”

“You've got fast reflexes.” Admiration laced Joe's tone. “If it hadn't been me, well, someone would've been sorry for bugging you.”

Bruce rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve his tension. “I'm jumpy because—”

“Yeah, I know.” Joe spoke with quiet understanding. “No big deal.”

“I almost hit you.”

“Naw. I wouldn't let you do that.” Joe rolled down his window and pulled off the cap, then ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “Hot today, isn't it?”

“I suppose so.”

“Makes me wonder why some jackass came out of a house across from where Cyn's mother lived, wearing a knit cap and a jacket with the collar up.”

Joe said it so casually that it took Bruce a moment to understand. His head jerked around. “Someone was watching her?”

“That's what my gut says.”

“You don't know for sure?”

“I didn't notice anyone watching when we were at the house, but then I was back quite a bit so no one would notice
me.
Could be he was peeking out a window. A lot of the houses around there looked abandoned. It'd be easy to get inside one, and just as easy not to be seen.”

Bruce felt himself practically swell with antagonism. “But you did see him?”

Joe nodded. “I was tailing you, but we hadn't gotten to the end of the street when I saw him in my rearview mirror. He came out in a hurry, got in a rusty blue Ford truck, and hung behind until you reached the motel.”

Joe pulled a slip of paper from his front pocket. “I got the license number, and friends are running it now to see if it turns up any info.”

“I should give that to the detective.”

“I'll take care of it.” Joe tucked the paper away again. “He didn't stop at the motel when you did, and I was caught trying to decide if I should follow him, or stick with you and Cyn, just in case.”

“And you stuck with us?”

“Tough call, but yeah. I figured I can go back to where he was staying, see what I can turn up there. With any luck, I'll find him home and that'll be the end of that.”

“Don't do anything crazy, Joe.”

Joe winked. “I used to be a cop, remember? I know how it works. In fact, soon as I take a look around, I'll let your detective know and she can poke her nose in there, too.” He replaced his cap.

“I just wanted you to know you're on your own for a few hours, so don't let Cyn out of your sight.” And with a knowing look, he warned, “No stalking off mad.”

Disgusted, Bruce faced the windshield again. “I wasn't going to leave. I just needed some air and I didn't want her to have the car keys.”

“Because you were afraid she would leave?”

“She's headstrong, and right now, she's hurting.” Bruce rubbed his face tiredly. “We had a stupid argument.”

“So apologize.”

That made Bruce laugh. “She won't want to hear it.”

Joe shrugged. “Then seduce her. Keep her naked in bed and stay there with her.” He winked. “Safest place for both of you to be.”

Bruce stared at his hands where they gripped the steering wheel. That was pretty much Joe's solution to most problems. But he wasn't Joe. “I'm a preacher, remember?”

Snorting, Joe said, “Don't bullshit me. You're in love with her. You and Bryan are alike in that way.”

“What way?”

“You're damned obvious. Hell, I can see it when you look at her. I can even hear it when you talk about her.”

Joe's good humor rubbed Bruce's nerves raw. “You're the expert on love now?”

Joe grinned. “Having experienced it firsthand, yeah.” He settled back in his seat. “Listen, it gets better. She'll drive you nuts at first, women can't help that. She'll run you through the wringer till you think you can't take it, then she'll love ya back and it'll be okay. You've got my word on that.”

Bruce decided he'd do well
not
to discuss love with the notorious Joe Winston. “You're right. Somehow I'll get around her temper.”

“Good, because I think this is going to get ugly.”

The way Joe said that, with such conviction, had Bruce's protective instincts on red alert. “Was it Palmer Oaks?”

“Could be.” Joe constantly scanned the area, especially paying attention to the cars coming and going on or near the lot. “Bryan called me about a half-hour ago.”

“He found out something?”

“Yep.” Hesitant, Joe rubbed his ear. “Seems Palmer was in prison—until three months ago.”

Oh God. “He escaped?”

“They released him. He did some time for breaking and entering, but, if you can believe it, got marks for good behavior. So, our boy is definitely loose again. I have feelers out to see where he is now, but so far, nothing.”

“Detective Orsen is checking into his whereabouts, too.” Bruce explained about the key and Cyn's suspicions.

“Good. The more people on the job, the better our chance of avoiding disaster.”

Disaster. Bruce hated the sound of that. He couldn't wait to get Cyn back home where she'd be safer. Except…staying in the loft, so far from the main house, how safe would she be?

Joe gripped his shoulder. “We fly out tomorrow morning, so unless something urgent comes up, I'll tell you whatever I find out back in Visitation.”

Anxious to return to Cyn, Bruce nodded. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No thanks necessary. Just keep your guard up. Especially on the way to the airport. I'll be behind you, but still…be careful.” With that cryptic warning, Joe left the car.

More concerned than ever, Bruce glanced back at the motel, and found Cyn standing in front of the glass foyer doors. She watched Joe move away before looking back at Bruce. Their gazes caught and held.

On a sigh, Bruce got out of the car and started toward her. One way or another, he'd make her listen.

As he approached, Cyn crossed her arms under her breasts, lifted one brow in mocking inquiry, and shook her head as if he'd somehow vexed her.

Then, finally, she smiled.

 

The second Bruce stepped through the doors, Cyn said, “I thought you'd left.”

“I'm not going anywhere without you.”

She absorbed that promise, and nodded. “Okay, so you just went out for air. You wanna tell me why Joe Winston is here?”

Bruce stopped directly in front of her, staring down with so much intense emotion, she almost blushed.

“You recognized him?”

What, did she look like a complete dolt? “It's a little hard to miss Joe.”

“Really?”

Cyn rolled her eyes. Was he toying with her?

“Bruce, the man is huge, and scary, and—”

“Joe's scary?”

She threw up her arms. Joe wasn't scary in the same way that Palmer was, or even in the way of Reverend Thorne. But the man looked dangerous and only the blind wouldn't see that. “Why—is—he—here?”

Bruce caught her arm and Cyn allowed him to lead her to the elevator. “Let's talk in the room, where we have privacy, okay?”

Cyn eyed him. He looked different. When he'd left, he was furious. Maybe because she'd put herself down. She hadn't even meant to do that, it was just habit. But Bruce didn't like it.

And that was, well, kind of nice.

Now, though, he looked…She wasn't sure. Protective. Determined. Alert.

She stared at his mouth and attempted a seductive tone. “Are you going to kiss me again in our room?”

“Maybe.”

Well. He didn't sound overly enthusiastic either way. But after the nasty, childish way she'd treated him, she'd take what she could get. “Okay, then.”

He kept her tucked to his side until he had their door open and had ushered her inside. He dropped the car keys, put the door card away, and faced her with grim resolve.

“Palmer Oaks was in prison, but he's out.”

Ohmigod.

Blank for only a second, Cyn fabricated a sarcastic grin and gave Bruce her back. “I hope his cell mate had fun with him while he was there.”

Gently, inexorably, Bruce pulled her around and right into his arms. His hand opened wide on the back of her head and eased her cheek to his chest. She loved his chest, how hard and warm it was, how she could feel the strong beat of his heart.

“Joe came along to trail us, to make sure whoever murdered your mother didn't get a chance to touch you. Not that I'm incompetent, or that I wouldn't die trying to protect you, but two sets of eyes are always better than one.”