Chapter Five

After parking her car in the garage, Taylor hit the remote on her sun visor to close the garage door. As it lowered behind her she grabbed her purse, climbed out and headed for the door that led into her mud/laundry room.

“Hello?”

She barely swallowed the scream as she whirled around, heart in her throat. A man was ducking under the closing garage door, his wide shoulders blocking the light cast from the streetlamps outside as he nimbly stepped over the sensor that would have made the door go back up.

Automatically she reached for the can of pepper spray in her purse, at the same time as he straightened and faced her. Dillon Wainright stood there, watching her. “Hey, Taylor.”

“Jesus, Dillon.” Her heart leaped at the sight of him.

She put a hand to the center of her chest and sucked in a deep breath, her other hand still holding the pepper spray. What the hell was he doing here? And how had he gotten her address? Her driveway was empty and she hadn’t seen a car parked along the curb near her house. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” He’d stopped halfway to her and now put his hands in his pockets, giving her a chance to compose herself. After a moment, that familiar lopsided smile spread across his face, and her throat constricted at the sight of him. It had been so damn long. “I was waiting on the front porch when you got here. I waved when you pulled into the driveway, but I guess you didn’t see me.”

Wow, she really needed to make more of an effort to be aware of her surroundings. She hadn’t realized how complacent and sloppy she’d become since moving here. “No.”

“So.” He rocked back on his heels. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked so much the way she remembered him, and yet so different. More mature. Harder. “How did you find me?” And why had he, after he’d been the one to cancel earlier?

“I called Janet earlier and she gave me your address.” He cocked his head, watching her with a slight frown. “Is that…okay?”

If she hadn’t seen him on the Baker video, she wouldn’t have thought twice about him showing up here, and she hated that part of her was now questioning his motives. Last time they’d spoken a few years back, he’d told her he’d given up his criminal ways and turned legit.

“I guess so.” But no, she’d make sure to tell Janet not to give out her address to anyone ever again, even to an old friend like Dillon. Her heart was still recovering from the shock. “You should have called me.”

“I felt really bad about cancelling tonight. I wound up finishing my work thing early, and thought I’d come by to surprise you.” He gave her another crooked grin, his sandy-brown eyebrows rising in question. “Surprise.” Then he opened his arms and waited, that goofy smile still in place.

Even though his methods felt invasive, she had never been able to resist that smile and couldn’t now. She’d missed him so damn much, and mentally reprimanded herself for being so stiff and standoffish with him. This was Dillon, and even if she still had some reservations about him being here, he’d gone to the trouble of coming here because he wanted to see her so badly.

As though pulled by some magnetic force, she closed the distance between them and stepped into the hug, wrapping her arms around his ribs. “It’s one hell of a surprise, all right.”

Dillon squeezed her tight, and the size and power of him was startling. He’d been big for his age as a teenager, but he’d filled out a lot since then and obviously worked hard at keeping in shape. “A good one, right?”

“Yes.”

God, he still smelled the same. Like home—the only one she’d ever known as a kid. She closed her eyes a moment and leaned her forehead against his solid chest, a huge lump forming in her throat at the feel of the familiar embrace and the rush of emotions and memories it unleashed.

There had never been anything remotely romantic between them, although she’d had a bit of a crush on him at one point when she’d first arrived at the foster home where he was living. During that unstable, frightening period of her life he’d become like a protective big brother, representing comfort, safety and security, the first she’d ever known with a man. For the better part of three years he’d been her safe haven, and then he’d gone.

“I’m really glad I came,” he murmured against her hair, his arms holding her close. “I’ve needed this more than you can imagine.”

Taylor sucked in a deep breath and fought the tide of emotion clogging her chest. He’d meant so damn much to her and then he’d just up and left. She understood why he’d done it, even agreed that he’d had to do it, but it had still hurt like hell. Losing him had ripped a giant black hole in her world and left her reeling and feeling abandoned for a long time.

Except now she was torn. She couldn’t stop thinking about the video.

He couldn’t be part of the Veneno cartel. Not her Dillon, who’d been so brave and selfless and risked so much for her. Who’d stepped in and protected her when no one else would, even though it had cost him.

She swallowed hard, battling the rise of tears.

“Hey.” He nuzzled his nose against the top of her head. “Don’t cry.”

She shook her head, her throat too tight to speak. When she’d agreed to meet up with him, she’d never expected this kind of reaction at seeing him. But then, she’d long ago become an expert at burying her emotions deep down inside where they couldn’t interfere with the controlled façade she’d worked so hard to project to the rest of the world.

When the threat of tears finally passed, she lifted her head and gave him a wobbly smile. “It’s good to see you.”

The past arced between them, reflected back at her in the almost wistful expression in his chocolate-brown eyes. “You too.”

“Come on inside,” she said, stepping away and heading to the door. “Have you eaten?” She disarmed the security system on the way in, careful to make sure he couldn’t see her doing it. Even though she trusted him because of their past, she wouldn’t let her guard down completely until she knew why he had been at Baker’s house.

“Yeah, on the way here.” He followed her into the mudroom and through to the kitchen, then stopped to look around. “Nice place you got here. It’s a craftsman?”

She nodded. “1920s, I think. The people I bought it from did a good job with the restorations. I barely had to do anything when I moved in.” It had one main floor and a loft, her favorite spot in the house, and as soon as she’d seen it, she’d known this was home. “Want something to drink?”

“Sure. A beer, if you’ve got one.”

She got two from the fridge, excited and a little nervous to be seeing him in person again after all this time. After they talked a bit, maybe she could ask him about his work and find an innocent reason as to why he’d been at Baker’s party that night. Maybe he was a real-estate developer or businessman of some kind now. It would certainly take a load off her mind.

But she didn’t want to think about any of that right now. “Let’s go sit in the loft.”

“The loft?”

“Best spot in the house.”

She led the way up the wooden staircase, a cozy, comforting feeling surrounding her like an invisible hug at the sight of her private little haven. The dark hardwood floors gleamed in the glow of the table lamp set on a side table next to one of the couches, and a stone fireplace was nestled in the corner.

Her smoke-gray cat, Nimbus, lifted his head from the ottoman he was curled up on and eyed them with half-closed green eyes. Taylor paused to scratch him under the chin before sinking into the corner of the cream-colored couch and tucking a knit throw blanket around her legs.

Dillon paused a moment to look around, then sat on the couch opposite her. “This place really suits you.”

“Thanks. I love it here.” She stroked a hand over the length of Nimbus’s back as he climbed into her lap and began purring.

“Still a neat freak, I see.”

“You can’t be surprised by that.”

“No. You always liked everything organized and uncluttered.” He looked so at home there on her couch, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, one big arm thrown along the back of the cushion.

“Keeps my mind calm.” Guilt wrestled with joy at having him here, but a part of her wondered if she’d crossed a line by letting him in, given that he was likely about to be on the DEA’s radar because of the video footage. She was still holding out hope that they could dismiss him as a suspect soon.

“So Janet said you moved here for a job?” he said, twisting off the cap on his beer.

She looked down at her own beer to avoid his eyes. “Yes.”

He laughed. “Just yes? No other details?”

She shrugged, hoping he’d let the matter drop because she didn’t want to tell him she was with the DEA, just in case. “Boring government job. But the benefit package and pension plan was too good to pass up.”

“Must’ve been, to bring you all the way to D.C. I thought you loved Houston.”

“Nah, I was over it a long time ago, and it’s been a good change. Even in August the humidity here is nothing compared to there.” He’d been her closest friend and companion. Had they seriously fallen into talking about the weather? “What about you? What’ve you been up to since we last talked?”

He broke eye contact as he set the bottle cap on the table and reached for a coaster, because he knew better than to set the bottle down on the wood without one. “Work. All work, all the time.”

She quirked a brow at him. “No other details?”

The smile he gave her was a tiny bit strained. “Not much to tell. I got into business with a few other guys, distributing pharmaceuticals all over the country.”

Pharmaceuticals. Legal drugs. She prayed that really was the case, although the mention of him selling any kind of drugs touched off a zap of unease in the pit of her stomach.

“And what else? You’re not wearing a ring, so I’m guessing you’re not married or engaged. You seeing anyone?”

“No. I’m a self-professed workaholic, I’m afraid.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” he said with a smirk, then sobered. “So you’re not seeing anybody at all?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not at the moment, no. I’ve tried the online dating thing, but it never worked out.”

He frowned. “That sounds…lonely.”

“I guess it can be sometimes, but honestly with the guys I’ve met, I prefer being on my own. You?”

He swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Nothing serious at the moment. I was with one girl for about four years.” He looked down and fiddled with his bottle.

Taylor shifted and leaned forward, something giving her the sense that it bothered him. “What happened?”

His smile was tight. “Irreconcilable differences, I guess you could say. I came home one night from a business trip and she was gone. She’d packed up all her stuff and left without a word.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Given that his addict parents had ditched him at a mall when he was five, that would have cut him to the quick.

He nodded once. “Thanks.” He took another swig of beer.

“Sometimes I think it’s better, being alone. Less painful that way.”

He met her gaze, and she caught a flash of empathy there. “I know it’s been hard for you to trust men. But I don’t think you’re meant to spend the rest of your life alone, Taylor. You’re not built that way, even if you wish you were. One day someone’s gonna come along and throw your safe, controlled world off kilter, in the best way possible. And when that happens, don’t be afraid to let him in. You’ll regret it if you do.”

She stared at him, his words setting off a painful ache beneath her ribs, because they hit far too close to home. She didn’t trust men. It was surreal, how well Dillon still knew her, even after so many years spent apart. He knew every one of her dark, shameful secrets and had never judged her for them.

The truth hurt, didn’t it? All her life she’d kept men at a distance, in a bid to protect herself from being hurt and abandoned. And it was damn lonely sometimes, living alone on her side of the wall she’d erected.

An image of Logan flashed into her head, reminding her of the way butterflies danced in her stomach whenever she was around him. He was the opposite of safe and controlled, a true adrenaline junkie who seemed determined to milk every ounce of excitement and action possible out of life.

So different from the rigid, sterile existence she’d made for herself. Could she ever open herself up to a man like him? After what had happened to her, she wasn’t sure she was even capable of it at this point.

Headlights swung across the window at the far end of the loft as a vehicle pulled into her driveway. She glanced toward it, expected whoever it was to simply turn around, but instead the sound of an engine became clear as it neared the garage door.

“Expecting company?” Dillon asked, a slight tension in his voice.

“No.” She got up and went to the window. A white pickup she didn’t recognize was parking in front of her garage. The driver switched the headlights off.

“Recognize it?”

“No. Be right back.” It was weird. She rarely had visitors, and never two in the same night.

She hurried down the stairs and back through the kitchen to the front door, where she checked the peephole. The driver’s side door opened and someone began climbing out. A crutch emerged from the vehicle and planted itself on the concrete driveway.

Logan.

Her heart skipped a beat and warmth radiated through her body. Everything female inside her sighed as he emerged from the truck, tall and powerful and sexy.

“Who is it?”

At Dillon’s terse whisper behind her she jumped and glanced back at him. He stood a few feet away in the shadows, his back to the wall, a strange tension about him as he stared at her front door.

It put her on high alert and she rushed to reassure him, not understanding his reaction. “It’s okay, it’s just a friend from work. I don’t know why he’s here.”

Dillon’s dark gaze cut to hers, and the cold, steely look in his eyes sent a sudden chill through her. “Open the door, find out what he wants, and then make him go away.”

A prickle of unease rippled through her.

She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but the words died in her throat when he reached behind him and pulled a matte black pistol from the back of his pants.