Worth the Risk (20 page)

“When this is done,” he repeated, “I’m going to take you somewhere isolated with nowhere to go but the big, cushy bed. I’m not even going to let you get up to eat. Breakfast in bed. Lunch in bed. Dinner in bed. I’m going to spend days and days making up for the years we didn’t know each other.”

Her breath caught. “And in the meantime?”

“This.”

He parted her thighs with his knee and exerted a small amount of pressure against her core. Meredith arched a little underneath him. She couldn’t help it. Sam groaned in reply.

“I take it back. King-size and cushy would be nice,” he said, his voice thick. “But it wouldn’t matter if our bed was made of hot coals. Or nails. As long it’s ours and we’re in it together.”

In reply, Meredith lifted her hands to her blouse to undo the buttons. As quickly as she could without fumbling. Sam watched, still and silent until she got to the last one. Then, like he couldn’t take it anymore, he dipped his head to her exposed flesh. His mouth was hot and needy as it made its way across her collarbone and down to the lace of her bra. In a slick move that made Meredith gasp, Sam slid his hand to her back and freed her breasts. And his mouth found those, too. Teasing and tasting and making her shiver.

As he kissed her, he slid his hands to the button of her jeans. He popped it open, then dragged down the zipper. He lingered for just a moment, his palm resting above the waistband of her underwear, his mouth at her stomach. Then he grabbed the sides of the jeans and pulled them down. Meredith kicked them off the rest of the way, and the cool air hit her exposed skin. But the cold didn’t last long. Sam’s fingers landed on her—here, there and everywhere—and warmed her immediately. He stroked her, from thigh to throat, then back, and then he paused. For a moment, Meredith was disappointed. Then she realized he’d only stopped to draw off his own shirt, and her disappointment dissolved. Sam’s chest was wide and muscled, and Meredith’s hands came up of their own accord to explore it. His skin felt a little rough. A little weathered. Perfectly suited to Sam’s personality. And utterly appealing.

He leaned down to kiss her again, but Meredith wanted to see more.

She dragged her hands to the waistband of his jeans, making him draw in a sharp breath. Impatiently, she undid the pants, and in moments, he was naked and poised over her. He held very still, his eyes trained on her face.

“Meredith,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I need to say something.”

Her heart twitched with worry. “What is it?”

“I’m telling you because I don’t ever want there to be a regret between us. Nothing left unsaid. Even the crazy bits, okay?”

The butterflies in her chest beat even harder. “Okay.”

“So in the never-going-to-let-it-happen-but-just-in-case-I-never-get-another-chance grand scheme of things, I should warn you...” He inhaled. “Once I have you, sweetheart, I’m never going to let go. Because I love you, Meredith.”

The nervous fluttering stopped and now her heart soared. “I love you, too, Sam.”

And Sam plunged into her, filling her body the way his words had filled her soul.

Chapter 21

S
am lifted a lazy finger and twirled it in Meredith’s mess of blond hair. He squinted, examining the varying shades of gold in the waning light. The sky outside—just barely visible through the little window on the wall above them—had darkened rapidly, and Sam suspected a storm was on the way. As he released the curl, a loudspeaker squawked to life, confirming his suspicions.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is a general announcement to let all our passengers know our service to Turtle Island is anticipating some rough waters for the last twenty minutes of our trip. A heavy storm front has moved into the Puget Sound area earlier than expected, and we may experience a slight delay in arrival. Thanks for your patience.”

The overhead voice clicked off, and Meredith groaned. “Great.”

“Feeling impatient?” Sam teased.

She propped herself up on one elbow and pursed her lips irritably. “You aren’t? I feel a bit like we’ve been sitting on our hands. I’m tired of waiting.”

“Sitting on our hands? Is that code?”

“Code for what?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Meredith’s cheeks went pink.

“I meant, we haven’t been working on the case.”

“Right. I’ll just sit here and pretend not to be insulted by both your terrible short-term memory and your lack of faith.”

“That isn’t... I wasn’t... Ack.”

“Ack?”

She stuck out her tongue. “Yes, actually. Ack. It perfectly describes my current state of mind.”

He ran his thumb over her mouth. “That shouldn’t be attractive. But it is.”

“You might be sick in the head.”

He grinned, brought his hand to hers, then dragged them together to his chest. “Do you mean sick in the heart?”

She wrinkled her nose, but when she spoke, her voice was warm. “And that shouldn’t be attractive, either. But it is.”

“You don’t like sap?” he teased.

“Maybe a little bit.”

He pulled her close and gave her a slow, deep kiss. “Then I guess you only want to hear a little bit about how you make me feel?”

“I can be bought,” she breathed. “With kisses like that.”

“And with repeated declaration of love?”

A blush crept up her cheeks. “Yes.”

“Good. Because you’re going to be hearing a lot of them.”

A loud chime, coming from somewhere on the floor, cut her off.

“Saved by the bell,” Sam joked, and he rolled over to rifle through their pile of clothes and yank out Detective Boyd’s phone. “Text message from Worm.”

“What’s it say?”

“Let’s have a look.” He flopped back onto the bed, pulled her into the crook of his arm and held the phone above them both.

“It’s a document link,” Meredith said right away. “Click it.”

Sam slid his thumb over to open up the file. A few simple paragraphs of text and an embedded photo of a driver’s license popped onto the little screen. He recognized what it was immediately.

“This is the background check on Matilda Mathews,” Sam explained. “Lists her immediate family. Her employer. A driver’s license. Social media connections. Typical stuff.”

“But it’s all fake. It has to be.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pretty elaborate one.”

Meredith frowned. “Just elaborate enough to make you not bother taking a second look, right?”

“Pretty much. And Worm followed up on everything, and it
still
looks good.” Sam squeezed his arms around her to zoom in on the information. “The employer is a call center and they
do
have a Matilda Mathews employed there. No way to tell if it’s the same woman, but I’d be surprised if it was. The parents’ answering machine has a message saying they’re in Florida for the season and the rest should try to enjoy the Washington weather, and the social media accounts are active. The license is the only questionable thing here. And even then, only because it’s new.”

“Can you crop the driver’s license photo?”

“Probably.”

Sam fiddled with the phone for a second, zooming and searching for the right buttons. After a minute of trying, he had a passable image isolated. He turned the screen toward Meredith.

“Someone you know?” he asked.

“No. But maybe if you copy that picture into the search engine...”

He did as she suggested, then let out a low whistle. “I’ll be damned. She’s an actress. Olivia Childress. Agented by Rising Star Talent.”

Meredith grabbed the phone and eyed the website with obvious interest. “They’re open evenings.”

“You’re going to call? And say what?”

She didn’t answer. She just pressed the link to the number, then set the phone on speaker.

On the third ring, a crisp voice answered. “Rising Star Talent, how can I direct your call?”

“Hi, there!” Meredith greeted brightly. “I’m looking to book a particular client of yours. Olivia Childress. A friend hired her recently and I think she’s perfect for an upcoming gig.”

“Ah, yes. Olivia’s lovely. Is this for a commercial?” The woman on the other end sounded pleased.

“It is. But it’s got some particular needs and I was hoping to speak to Ms. Childress directly.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “I can get a message to her. Is the number on our display correct?”

“That’s the one. Have her ask for Meredith.”

“Meredith. And you’re with the Bowerville PD?”

Meredith winced. “Yes. I’m in PR. We’re looking for someone to be the face of the department.”

“Okay. I’ll pass along the message.”

“Can you also let her know that our need is somewhat urgent and the pay reflects that?”

“No problem.”

“Thank you.” Meredith hung up the phone and turned to Sam with a triumphant grin. “See? Now all we have to do is wait for her to call back.”

“Not bad.”

“Not bad? It was brilliant.”

Sam chuckled. “One good move and you’re brilliant? I must be a genius.”

She shot him a look. “I’ll admit you’re
not bad.”

“Is that right?” He grabbed her and rolled her to her back and gave her a thorough kiss.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Maybe you’re more than not bad...at some things.”

“Admit I’m a genius,” Sam ordered.

“Admit I’m brilliant,” she countered.

He kissed her again, running his hand up her bare thigh as he did. She arched into the kiss.

“Brilliant,” he said against her mouth. “Beautiful. Everything in between.”

He felt her lips turn up under his. “I’d like to hear about the in-between in great detail.”

Abruptly, the speaker above crackled again. “Once again, ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the interruption. We’ve come up on that patch of rough water we mentioned earlier. We’ll be taking things a little slow as we come up on our approach. This will set us back by approximately a half hour. For your information, this will also be our last sailing of the day. If you need accommodation on the island, do come and see our friendly staff at the concierge’s desk. Our partners on Turtle Island will be offering a significant discount to our travelers. Our apologies for the inconvenience.”

Sam pushed his palms to the cot and grinned down at Meredith.

“Still feeling impatient?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Good. Because I’ve got a few ideas about what we should do while we wait.”

* * *

One hundred and nine minutes. That’s how long it took the ferry to get from the mainland to the island. Twenty-one more than scheduled. Twenty-one minutes Sam put to good use, getting to know every inch of Meredith’s five-foot-ten frame. The best twenty-one minutes of his life. Hearing her cry his name and seeing the joy in her eyes as they gave over to the passion... Incredible.

Sam had never been so grateful for a weather-related delay. As they exited the ferry, he couldn’t even resent the way the wind whipped through some of the cracks in the old sedan.

Worth the chill.

He glanced over at Meredith. She had her fingertips on her lips and a ghost of a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. As though she couldn’t quite help it. He felt the same. Invigorated and satisfied. An unbreakable bubble of contentment sitting just under the surface.

So incredibly worth it.

She caught him looking and her smile widened. “You sure you’re good to drive?”

“I’m sure I’m good enough to fly a plane.”

She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh, then opened them and let it go anyway. “Let’s just stick with roads for now.”

Sam shrugged. “If you insist. Ready to boss me around and tell me where to go?”

“You mean navigate?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

She rolled her eyes, but unfolded the map they’d grabbed from the collection on the ferry. “Tell me the address.”

Sam gave her the name of the road, then guided the car off the ferry and followed her instructions to the coastal road that ran around the outside of the island.

“I remember it being really pretty here. Lots of different shades of green.” Meredith peered out. “But it’s hard to tell now, isn’t it?”

It was true. The storm had really picked up steam, and though the headlights caught the odd flash of foliage, everything else was a blur of wet darkness. The rain pelting down on the windshield came in a slant, and it hit the road hard, too, filling any available dip with sludgy water. In the minutes it took to cover the few miles between the terminal and the turnoff to the cabin, the sky turned completely black. The conditions forced Sam to take the last few hundred feet—a dirt path that had turned to mud—at a crawl. Even then, the sedan’s tires protested against every rut in the slick surface below.

“Still want to fly that plane?” Meredith joked as Sam finally put the car in Park and unhooked the wires that had been keeping the engine going.

He eyed the dimly lit wooden structure in front of them. “Still might be safer than this place.”

But when they made their way through the downpour and up to the porch, then opened the front door, the interior of the cabin turned out to be warm and sturdy. One wall held a fireplace, stacked with wood. A leather couch, draped in a speckled quilt, sat opposite the hearth. The other side of the large room housed a modern kitchenette. A bench-style, corner seating area framed a squat table, and on top of that table sat a closed laptop, a stack of steaming containers and two disposable place settings. A partly opened door revealed a glimpse of a four-poster bed.

“Not bad,” Sam said as he glanced around. “In fact, this may even be more romantic than the stateroom on the ferry.”

Meredith shot him a dirty look, but he knew she’d be hard-pressed to deny the appeal. He grinned and moved toward the table, his stomach growling at the scent of fresh Italian food that wafted from the containers. Meredith followed behind him, but when she sat down and reached for the computer rather than a fork, Sam shot out his hand and stopped her.

“Food first,” he said. “Shower second. Check out whatever lead Worm has lined up on the laptop...third.”

“You really expect me to eat and get clean
before
looking at whatever’s on that computer?

Sam shrugged. “We can’t go anywhere until the storm passes, anyway. Or at least until it calms enough that we won’t be driving blind. We need food and rest and we have the perfect opportunity to do both. Putting off looking at whatever Worm sent us for another hour isn’t going to slow us down. And while succumbing to exhaustion won’t help us, refreshing our bodies
will
. Eat, shower, work. Trust me.”

He opened the lid of the first container and scooped out a generous helping of lasagna onto each plate. Then he moved on to the next plastic tub. Caesar salad. He dished out two spoons worth, and Meredith’s eyes followed the movement.

“If you’re trying to distract me,” she said, “it’s not working.”

“Liar.”

“That’s not very nice.”

Sam popped open a third container, dug out a piece of parmesan-crusted broccoli with his fingers and tossed it into his mouth. “You know what
is
nice? This food.”

Meredith reached for the laptop again, and for the second time, Sam stopped her. When she attempted to squirm away, he spun her around and—in a tried-and-true throwback to his days on the force—pinned her hands behind her back.

“I’ve captured hardened criminals who can’t escape this hold,” he informed her.

She lifted a foot and stomped. Her ferry-bought slip-on hit his steel-toed boot with all the effectiveness of a feather.

Sam chuckled. “I guess I can’t blame you for trying.”

She sighed and leaned back, settling against his chest as best she could with their hands locked between them. Her curves begged to be flush with his body. Sam couldn’t help but loosen his hold to draw her closer. And she took immediate advantage, wriggling free and dancing away.

“I’m guessing most of those hardened criminals weren’t women?”

“Some of them were.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.” He lunged toward her, and she moved out of his way easily.

“Not smart women, then.”

He lunged again—this time with a feint to one side, then a jump in the other direction—and caught one of her arms. She let out a surprisingly girlie squeal as Sam pulled her close, lifted her from the ground and set her down on table beside the food. He flattened her hands to the smooth wood and looked her straight in the eyes.

“Some were smart. Some were pretty. A few were both. And I promise you...lots of them batted their eyelashes at me.”

Meredith snorted. “I don’t know how you managed to hold on to any of them.”

Sam shrugged. “Easily. Because I wasn’t in love with any of them.”

Her chest rose and fell a little quicker. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

He gave her a light kiss, then let her go to grab a chunk of garlic bread. He tore it in half and offered her one of the pieces. She took it, but her eyes strayed to the laptop once again.

Sam sighed. “Fine. We’ll open it. But we’ll eat at the same time, and you have to promise to finish the whole plate.”

She jumped off the table and went for the laptop eagerly. “Okay.”

Sam slid the computer back out of her reach. “I want you to take a nap, too.”