CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Thomas

 

I made it a point not to avoid the bumps and divots on the road, because I needed to keep jarring myself not to pull that damn bike over and press myself between her legs like I was practically dying to do. Fuck, fuck, fuck. We'd been riding for half an hour, and I still had a hard-on begging for release. I moved my mind away from the way she'd tasted, the way she'd come undone under me, the way I'd felt half crazed with lust for her.

I looked back at Livvy and pointed ahead where the sparkling turquoise of the Caribbean sea had appeared in the distance. Palomino.

We were nearing the end, and I didn't know what the hell to do. I wanted to warn Livvy what she'd be walking into. I wanted to include her in my plan. But I knew that was fucking stupid—there was too much on the line here for me to start making choices that would ruin everything. The woman would wear the information right on her beautiful face. And her fiancé would see it in a heartbeat—hell, anyone would.

Fuck, it'd been so easy when I'd believed she was nothing more than some foolish debutante. I'd been okay with letting her live with her own consequences, whether she was being manipulated or not. But now . . . God, now everything had twisted and turned, and I'd landed upside down. Livvy wanted to rescue people because no one had rescued her. I understood the need, the burning drive. Hell, I lived it. But Livvy had set her sights on the wrong person, and she was going to learn that lesson the hard way. Damn if that didn't cause a piece of my heart—the one I didn't know I still had—to break.

Had she, like me, looked into the bright glow of strangers' windows, longing to know what it was to be part of a warm family unit? To belong to others? To . . . matter? Not to be the one always standing outside, cold and alone? Maybe. But this woman with the dreamy eyes still wore her tender heart on her sleeve. She still stood with her face pressed to the glass—her yearning transparent—whereas I had turned away, unwilling to be the one looking in ever again. Never again.

My heart clenched with the memory of the way she'd looked at me when I'd told her about the dogs, my mother, my uncle's cruelty, my aunt's indifference . . . The raw sympathy in her eyes had touched a place inside me I hadn't acknowledged for a long, long time. The people I'd counted on to save me had turned their backs. They'd looked the other way as I’d suffered. But as I looked at her, I realized Livvy wouldn't do that. Ever. The woman would fight like a wildcat for the family she'd have one day. She'd trek through jungles or across deserts; she'd risk her safety and her pride, never giving up no matter the cost. She might be a damn idiot after all.

And I might be in love with her.

So what? What did it matter? This whole situation was fucked. Livvy would hate me soon enough, and if she didn't, I had nothing to offer her. The things Livvy wanted—the very things she was risking herself for—were exactly what I couldn't provide.

Not only that, but regardless of what happened in Palomino, and despite the confusion of our physical attraction, she was still emotionally attached to another man. At that thought, red-hot jealousy seared through my veins, and I tightened my jaw so the growl working its way up my throat wouldn't come out.

We ditched the bike outside the town I'd been headed toward, hiding it in brush on the side of the road. Unfortunately, there hadn't been time to grab our backpacks when we'd escaped from the drug traffickers, but thankfully I had our wallets.

Walking right into that situation had been a spectacular stroke of bad luck—but Livvy had done exactly as I'd signaled her to do. God, the fear yet strength in her eyes. Faced with a fucking lowlife drug lord, she’d not only remembered what I’d told her, but followed through. I felt damn proud of her, of . . . our teamwork. Since leaving the SEALs, I'd considered myself a lone wolf. Not that I wanted to face more danger with Livvy ever again—fuck no—but the feeling of partnership with a woman was . . . new.

Different.

Scary.

Stupid.

"How are we going to buy tickets?" Livvy asked as the bus station came into view.

"My wallet is in my pocket." I paused, glancing at my cargo pants. "Your ID and passport are too."

"What? It was in my backpack."

"I took it in Rionegro."

"Why?"

"I thought it was safer to carry it on my body."

"I haven't let my backpack out of my sight. How'd you manage that?"

I shrugged, heading toward the building with a red tour bus waiting outside. "Necessary skill."

She made a sound of annoyance. "You could have just asked me for it."

I turned to her, halting, and she came up short, stumbling against me. I steadied her and stepped back. "It's what I do." She blinked at me, startled, her eyes moving across my face. She was surprised, confused. Good. "I steal and lie. I lie to people I like and people I don't like. I do what I have to do to get the job done. I do things I don't like to do because they're necessary. Sometimes I kill. I don't enjoy that either, but some people are a scourge on the earth, and there's no other choice. Some people are so goddamned evil you have no idea of the depths of their depravity, Livvy, you couldn't even guess. So yeah, it's part of my fucking job."

Her expression was still stunned, but there was something else in her eyes now too: sympathy and . . . pride. My heart stuttered.

"You dream like I do. Only . . . you're more selfless than I am, Thomas. You dream for others. You were once scared, alone." She tilted her head, looking into my eyes, my soul. "So you rescue those who still are."

Something was tightening around my chest. An invisible rope. A vise I couldn't remove.

"Does it help?"

"Yes," I breathed, without thinking.

For a beat, then another, we stared at each other. She leaned up onto her tippy-toes and kissed me, her soft lips brushing my skin, leaving warmth in their wake. Sunshine. Then she lifted her chin and said, "That's what makes you a hero."

Aw, Jesus Christ Almighty. I was going to jump in front of the bus rather than get in it. With effort, I shook off the feeling that had come over me with her words, her insight. This wasn't helping anything. "Come on. We have a ride to catch." Even I could hear the resignation in my tone. I grabbed her hand and turned, heading for the ticket counter.

**********

 

I'd learned from Josh this bus company was still running, though only two days a week. Whether the owner had a cache of fuel or what, I didn't know and didn't care. I was damn thankful we hadn't missed our opportunity to catch a ride instead of walking. I didn't usually mind the physical nature of walking, even the strenuous exercise of running, but it allowed for too much time spent in my own head, and right now, that was the last thing I needed.

The bus was half full of people, and Livvy and I took a seat near the back. We were only on the road for about fifteen minutes, when I suddenly felt Livvy's head on my shoulder. She was out. I wasn't surprised—all that adrenaline earlier. The bus ambled along, the Caribbean creating a gorgeous vista out the window. I closed my own eyes, the toll of what we'd experienced earlier catching up with me as well.

I felt the bus slowing, the brakes squeaking loudly, and I opened my eyes. Livvy had moved her head to my chest. I had one arm around her and the other in her hair, my fingers woven into the soft strands. For a moment I allowed myself to enjoy it—my hands on her, protecting her, comforting her, breathing her in. For a moment I allowed myself to pretend this could be real. I brought my head up, a sort of sadness settling over me. This moment could never last. Livvy began to stir. Carefully, I extricated my hand from her hair, and she came to a sitting position, blinking tiredly. "Oh my gosh, I slept like the dead," she said, yawning and looking out the window. "I've never slept that hard." Her voice was still a little slurred, deep and warm with sleep and it washed over me. This was what she sounded like in the morning—I knew because I'd woken up with her for four mornings now. But what if I woke to that voice right against my ear as her hand wandered my body, stroking, fondling. I'd roll on top of her and push inside her wet heat, make her come so hard—

Stop it. Fucking stop it.

"Adrenaline crash," I said a little too sharply and Livvy glanced at me before smoothing her hair back.

"Is that what that was? You must have crashed too, then."

"I slept a little. But I'm used to managing effects of adrenaline."

Her eyes lingered on me. "Hmm." She paused, tilting her head. "You like it, don't you? You're a thrill seeker. You must be."

The bus shuddered to a stop, and people started standing, grabbing their bags from the compartment overhead. We would have to wait for people to clear before we could get off. I thought about her question for a minute. "Yeah. I am."

She nodded slowly, taking her lip between her teeth. She smiled, though sort of sadly. "You're in the right job then."

Our eyes caught and I nodded. This particular job was going to kill me, but yeah, yeah, I was in the right job. Unfortunately.

"A thrill seeker and a homebody. We're a funny pair, aren't we?" she asked softly.

Funny. So why didn't I want to laugh?

"Where do you live anyway?" She attempted to be nonchalant but failed.

"Nowhere. Everywhere. I don't keep a home base. No reason to."

"I see." There was something even more grim in her tone and as we waited for the aisle to clear, we were both quiet. "Who's Lobo?"

I froze, my gaze flying to Livvy. "What?"

"Lobo. I woke for a second . . . and heard you say the word."

"It's nothing," I said blankly, feeling a cold chill move through me. I hadn't thought of that name in years. Why was I muttering it in my sleep?

The other passengers ambled forward, and I stood quickly, needing to get off this bus, taking a step back so Livvy could walk past me. She had grass stains on her ass and the sleeve of her shirt had a tear in it. We would need to find new clothes . . . a place to stay. One more night then tomorrow everything would change. My guts squeezed.

Lobo.

No, don't think of that.

The sun hit me in the face, and I took a moment to look around, taking in the details of the new environment. This town had obviously been hard-hit by both natural disasters—the earthquake had taken down buildings, and the tsunami had left its own mess. I could see waterlines on many of the intact structures, and at the end of the street a boat lay on its side, obviously having been washed from the sea and not yet cleared away. This was a tourist town, and they relied on tourist revenue, and that had been completely taken away. Even so, townsfolk who had things to sell were open for business, many shops set up as tables on the street. Maybe whether they sold anything was beside the point. Maybe the purpose of opening again was more about hope than money, though I was sure that was welcome too.

There was an old woman with creased brown skin selling ripe papayas and bananas, so I bought a cup of cut-up fruit for both of us. Livvy moaned as she ate a piece of sugary orange papaya, and my eyes shot to her mouth and then away, refusing to let my gaze linger on her soft lips sweet with fruit juice. I was hungry too, so I ate the fruit, knowing we'd both need something more substantial, but at least it was a few calories to get us by until then. The other hunger would be ignored. I was used to depriving myself, wasn't I?

"Let's see if we can find some decent clothes and a few toiletries," I muttered. "And then we'll find a place to stay. Tomorrow we'll get up early and be in Palomino by the afternoon."

Livvy paused, looking at me, and I saw the fear that came into her eyes. But she took a deep breath and nodded. "A change of clothes would be great."

A few steps beyond the woman selling fruit was a shop with a few clothing items hanging outside—tourist items mostly—and a woman sat in a rocker next to the open door. She was older, in her fifties perhaps, but still beautiful with strands of silver at her temples and deep chocolatey eyes. "Buenas," she greeted. Her brow furrowed and something that resembled disapproval came into her gaze as she looked at Livvy. "Usted estuvo aquí la semana pasada." You were here last week.

Livvy gave her an apologetic smile and shook her head to let her know she didn't speak Spanish. The woman seemed confused as she stared at her.

"She doesn't speak very much Spanish," I told the woman in her native tongue. "And you're mistaken, we've never been here before."

The woman shook her head. "No, I am sure of it. Not you, but her, she was here last week with another gringo."

I shook my head. The woman was obviously confused, but even so, a strange shiver ran down my back. Something felt off, but I couldn't think of an explanation so I dismissed it. I didn't know this woman—for all I knew, she could be suffering from a mental illness. "We need some clothes," I said. "Our bags were lost and we need to buy necessities."

For a moment the woman didn't respond to me, still looking between Livvy and me with that confused expression on her face. But she shook her head minutely and smiled. "Go into my shop. All the items inside were in my home and were saved from the water. I think you will find what you need."

"Great." I took Livvy's arm and began to lead her inside the store. Turning back to the woman, I said, "Do you know where we can rent a room for the night?"

"Sí. There is a hotel on the cliff that sustained minimal damage. They have put up many townspeople whose homes were lost, but they will have a room for paying customers."

I nodded. "Gracias."

Half an hour later, we had clean clothes and the few necessities the woman provided in her shop—mouthwash, combs, sunscreen, and ChapStick. We'd have to hope the hotel could provide some soap and a bottle of shampoo.

The white building that rose above the town was about a twenty-minute walk from her shop. There was a path along the cliff and we took it, the sparkling blue of the Caribbean stretching toward the horizon. The day was warm and peaceful, a slight breeze blowing off the water, sun casting sparkles along the cresting waves as they broke against the rocks. For a moment it seemed impossible that something so beautiful had created so much devastation. The sea had returned to its peaceful state as easily as it had exercised its fury.

Livvy and I were both quiet as we walked. She seemed troubled, lost in her own world, and I felt tense as well, a low simmer of regret burning in my gut. The familiar buzz I felt as confrontation drew near was instead a cold lump of dread. I couldn't go into tomorrow feeling this way. I needed to distance myself from Livvy tonight—just one night. I could get through this night and do what I had to do. I would.

I wanted to check us into two separate rooms, so I didn't have to look at her for the rest of tonight. I wanted to spend the time alone, reinforcing the importance of this job instead of getting lost in those big blue eyes. But I wouldn’t risk her safety in this unknown town in an unknown hotel, when I only needed to insure her well-being for twenty-four more hours.

And then what?

Would I really leave her in Colombia with a man who didn’t come close to deserving her? Who would use her and then throw her away?

Fuck, don't think of that. Don't consider what's going to become of Livvy. It's not your business.

Yes, fuck yes, I'm going to leave her in Colombia to suffer the fallout, because that's my job.

Tonight, I would stay away from her.

For her and for me.

Tonight, when she was asleep, I would find a willing woman and relieve the ache in my loins.

I wanted to relieve that ache with Livvy—wanted it so badly I could hardly see straight—but I couldn't risk that. It would change everything, and I couldn't afford that. Not now. Not ever.