CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Wes sat sprawled on the couch in his cabin, nursing his third beer as he stared into the flames crackling across the logs in the fireplace. Two weeks had passed since the blizzard rolled through the state. The roads were mostly cleared and the power was back on. People were back to work. Kids were back to school. Everything was back to normal. Everyone and everything was fine.
Except me.
He took another swig of his beer and reached over to bury his hand in the warmth of Wöden’s fur. The wolf-dog had parked himself beside him on the leather couch since the day he’d returned from Cincinnati and collected him from Harriett’s place. The cone of shame had been removed, whether by the curmudgeonly nurse or the half-tame animal, he wasn’t sure, but Wöden seemed to need his comfort as much as Wes needed the wolf-dog’s.
Wes amended his earlier thought. Everyone and everything was fine, except for Wöden and me.
It was Chloe’s fault. In the short time she’d been here, she’d taken over the place. Her scent literally filled the air. Items she’d touched, the clothes she wore, even the spot on the front lawn where they’d wrestled after the snow-ball battle—all were haunted by her spirit, memories of her.
Dammit, he’d hated leaving her. It ate as his gut every mile he’d put between them. But, just like he’d told her in that stupid letter he’d left for Bryerson to give her with her car key, his past was too filled with mistakes and enemies for him to ask her to put herself in danger. It was best for both of them if she went on with her life and forgot about anything that had happened between them.
Best for her.
There was no way he’d ever forget any of it. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was her face. He heard her voice and laughter in his head and would turn around thinking she was in the cabin. Even the feel of her skin teased his memories.
“This is why I’ve been working sixteen-hour days since I got back, Wö,” he told his pal, using the new nickname. “Keeping busy means I don’t miss her as much.”
The wolf-dog lifted his head and gave him that you-could’ve-brought-her-home look he’d been giving him from the moment he’d finished sniffing the cabin over in search of her.
“I know. I know. But I can’t take the chance that some other crazy will pop up out of my past and try to kill her.”
Wöden tilted his head.
“Yeah, I know. She’s going to be pissed forever that I didn’t give her a choice. But what could I do? Seeing that rifle pointed at her, knowing she was dead if the bullet hit her… Shit, I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
Wöden growled softly.
“Okay. You took the shot in your butt. It was only a graze. And you probably saved her life.”
His pal slid off the couch and went to the cabin door, his tail wagging.
“So, you’re going to go out and pout? Just because I didn’t make a big deal about your part in saving her?”
Wöden sniffed the door and started whining.
“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” he said, setting the beer bottle on the counter in the kitchen.
He opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks as Wöden hurled himself at the tall, beautiful, highly pissed off woman standing on the porch. She dropped the duffel bag and wrapped her arms around the beast standing on his hind legs to lick her.
“I’ve missed you, too, boy,” she said, closing her eyes and burying her face in the grey and white fur.
All Wes could do was stand and watch the pair’s happy reunion, his grip on the door the only thing keeping him from either falling to his knees or pushing the animal aside to take his place.
Finally, Wöden dropped to all fours to circle around her before heading off the porch to do his business. Chloe wiped her hands on her jeans and stared at Wes. “You look like shit.”
“Been working long hours and not sleeping much,” he said, still drinking in the sight of her and fighting the need to pull her into his arms.
“And whose fault is that?” she asked, picking up the duffel bag and hauling it past him into the house. She set it down near the counter and picked up the near empty beer bottle standing beside the other two. “Your medicine of choice?”
“What are you doing here, Chloe?” he asked, ignoring her comment and closing the door. He shoved his hands into his pockets and fixed her with his best I’m-in-charge-and-you’ve-crossed-over-the-line look.
“I brought something back to you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a long white envelope, holding out to him.
He didn’t need to take it to know what it was. His handwriting had scrawled one word across the front. What caught his attention was the fact that it remained unopened. He arched a brow. “You didn’t open it.”
“Didn’t need to. I already knew what it said.” She laid it down on the counter, then started unbuttoning her pea coat. The one he’d given her last month.
“Oh, you’re clairvoyant now?” He moved further inside to take the beer bottles and put them in the recycling bin, draining the last little bit from the third one.
“No. And you don’t need to get sarcastic.” She crossed her arms in front of her and he almost missed the slight tremor in her hands.
Was it from anger? Or fear? He didn’t know which bothered him more.
“Whatever you wrote inside that letter was pure bullshit. You’re running scared, plain and simple, deputy.”
“That’s bullshit, counselor. This isn’t some misplaced modern-day fear of commitment issue. I have none. I’d love nothing more than to have you with me twenty-four seven, three-sixty-five.” He ran his hands through his hair to curb the frustration boiling up. “It’s about you being safe.”
“And you think that me being here with you puts me in danger.”
“Yes.” He pointed to the letter. “If you’d read that, you’d know being around me automatically puts your life in danger.”
“Hannah’s dead,” she quietly said.
“I know.” He’d paid to have her buried in the cemetery on the south side of town. “Her death was a wake-up call for me. She’s just the first of many people who can blame me for what happened to a member of their family. People I’ve had to extricate for trial, missions that stopped a terrorist unit, even other black ops people who blame me for shutting down their illegal activities. Any one of those can come after me. You being here just makes you a big target.”
“And yet, I can’t think of anyplace safer for me.” She’d let her hands drop to her side, no longer hiding herself from him. “And you were safer because I was here.”
“How do you figure that?” he asked, wondering where she’d gotten that idea.
“First, I went for help. Then when I came back, my presence distracted her long enough for you to get the drop on her.”
The image of Hannah training her rifle barrel on Chloe in the woods outside that shack hit him like a freight train. This time his knees really did give out on him. He clutched the counter as he made his way very shakily to one of the barstools.
“Don’t even remind me how close you came to dying,” he said.
“But I didn’t.” Chloe came around to stand between his spread knees, her hands cupping his face until their gazes met. “Don’t you see? We’re much better together than apart.”
“What if someone comes after me and you get caught in the middle again?”
“Wouldn’t it be better for that to happen out here in the small town where you and I’ll be alerted to strangers? What if someone comes after me in the city full of hundreds of thousands of people?”
A shudder ran through him. He wrapped his arms around her middle and hugged her tight, his face pressed against her breasts. She held him to her, the only sound the crackling of the wood in the fireplace.
Finally, he loosened his hold on her, but only slightly so he could search her beautiful face as he asked, “You want to give up your life in the big city and your job at a prestigious law firm to live out here in a cabin with me and one slightly housebroken wolf-dog?”
“I’d already made up my mind when I went back to the office that first day. Napier’s quick departure showed me that if I stayed, I’d be doing nothing but sucking up to corporate executives for the rest of my life. I also realized, I didn’t want that life anymore. The most peace I’ve had since before my parents died was here with you. And besides, I want what my sister has.”
“What’s that?” he asked, no longer fearing his past might hurt them.
“Living with the man I love,” she said, staring into his eyes as her words settled in his heart.
“I love you, too,” he said, pulling her close until their lips met. It started out as a slow kiss, one promising their love for each other. It quickly flamed to life, and he stood, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom.
* * * * *
Later that evening, Chloe snuggled up against Wes’s side. The fire once more mesmerizing them as they sipped their wine and Wöden lay on the floor, gnawing on the giant chew bone she’d brought for him.
“You sure you won’t mind giving up your law practice?” Wes asked.
“Who says I’m giving it up?” Chloe said, taking a sip of the mulled wine. “I can be a lawyer anywhere in the state of Ohio. Westen is growing and there will be people, rich or poor, who could use a good lawyer. Like that little girl Bobby was telling me about. The one her mother abandoned in the blizzard.”
“Lexie?”
“Yes. Since she was abandoned, the State will have to do a custody hearing, whether the Sheriff’s Department finds her mother or not. Lexie will need a court appointed advocate. I could do that.”
“Yes, you could. In fact, you’d be great at it,” he said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head.
“I was a little nervous coming here,” she said after a few moments.
Wes played with the short dark hair that teased the back of her collar. “Because you were afraid I’d send you away?” he guessed.
“Yes, but the nervousness didn’t last long.”
“Why?”
“It’s the same reason I knew what was in that letter.”
Wes cocked a brow at her.
She grinned. “I heard you tell me you loved me that last night we were together. So, when the letter came, I had to ask myself, what kind of man confesses his love, then the very next day leaves without a real goodbye?”
He opened his mouth to explain, but she put her finger on his lips.
“The kind of man who loves a woman so much he’s willing to put her happiness and safety above his.” She twisted so they were face-to-face. “The kind of man I love.”
Wes set his glass down on the end table then took hers and set it there, too. He pulled her onto his lap, running his fingers through her short, sexy hair. “I will always put your happiness first, Chloe.”
She smiled down at him. “And I will always put yours first, too.”
He grinned. “So, it’s a competition?”
She grinned back. “Isn’t that what love is about? Competing to make the other person feel your love?”
“I like the way you think, counselor,” he said against her lips, then proceeded to show her just how much.