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Worth the Wait by Lori Foster (3)

11

BECAUSE NATHAN KNEW her schedule well, he realized right away that something was off. Brooklin hadn’t come out to the porch to read early evening, as she so often did. But more than that, her lights hadn’t gone off at ten, as per her usual pattern. In fact, damn near every light in her house blazed.

He’d gotten home late and had expected to see her house dark and quiet, except for the porch light she always left on.

Tonight was different.

He was beat, a hot shower and a soft bed uppermost in his mind. At least until he’d seen her house and felt the uneasiness. Through much of his life he’d learned to never discount his instincts. They’d served him well in SWAT—for the most part. Clearbrook was quieter, calmer, but still, occasions arose where he had to trust those internal alarms.

For only a moment he argued with himself about all the reasons why Brooklin might still be up. A party? Doubtful.

A date? Hell, he hoped not.

Trouble? That seemed his best guess, so he headed over to her porch, cutting across the lawns instead of going out to the sidewalk and up her walkway.

They were on friendlier terms now, but she hadn’t let him kiss her good-night after their “date,” which wasn’t much of a date since she’d insisted on buying her own food and they’d only gone to Screwy Louie’s, sitting with other neighbors and indulging nothing more than very casual conversation. But it was a start, never mind that they hadn’t really seen each other since.

Through the drawn blinds, he saw no shadows. So she wasn’t moving around? Maybe she’d gone out and hadn’t returned yet, and she’d left on the lights so she, a woman alone, wouldn’t be entering a dark house. It was late, after eleven, but with all those lights on, she wasn’t likely to be asleep.

To hell with it. He’d rather apologize for bothering her than to ignore her if she needed him.

He knocked, then waited.

No answer.

He stewed a minute more, but his instincts insisted something was off. Pulling out his cell, he called her.

On the very first ring, she answered in a whisper. “Hello?”

Even with her voice so soft, he heard the uncertainty. “Brooklin? It’s Nathan.”

With less of a whisper, she asked, “How’d you get my number?”

She didn’t exactly sound angry, but definitely thrown off. “You left it with the boutique and their books were open and I saw it.”

Still very distracted, she said, “Oh God. I’ll have to talk to them about that.”

Now that she spoke more normally, he heard it in her voice. Something was definitely wrong. “I already did. I told Phillis, the girl that works the day shift, that it was a terrible practice and she promised not to let it happen again.”

After a slight hesitation, she said, “Thank you.”

By the second, Nathan grew more concerned. “Let me in.”

That perked her up. “What?”

“I knocked, but you didn’t answer the door. Let me in.”

The curtain on the small rectangular door window moved, and one eye peeked out. Then both eyes. She frowned.

He heard the locks clicking—multiple locks—and finally she cracked the door open enough to say, “What are you doing out there?”

“Checking on you.” Trying to look as casual as a very horny, overly protective man could, Nathan propped a shoulder on the door frame and didn’t make a move to enter. “Everything okay in there, Brooklin?”

Her eyes narrowed. The knuckles on the hand holding the door turned white. “Why do you ask?”

“Your lights were on,” he explained gently. “And now, seeing you, I know you’re spooked about something.”

She jerked back. “No. I’m...fine. Thanks for checking, though.”

When she started to close him out, Nathan stopped her with one hand flattened on the door. “Okay, here’s the thing.” Damn, he didn’t want it to happen this way, didn’t want to insist and force his way in, but in his gut, he felt she needed him. “I’m not just an interested guy, you know? I’m also the sheriff. And as the sheriff, I can tell that something is wrong. You can’t ask me to ignore that.”

To his surprise, she accepted his explanation. The door widened a little more, enough for him to press in, and so he did.

Clearly that hadn’t been her intent because she just stared up at him. She’d probably hoped for more of a conversation, not an invasion.

Trying to make it easier, he smiled and said, “Hi.”

She blinked. “Hi.” Looking around her own house as if unsure of what to do, she said, “Everything really is fine, I promise.”

Needing to touch her, Nathan cupped the side of her neck. “Okay, now this is just the interested guy part of me. Sorry that you’re getting hit with both tonight. But, Brooklin, I know you. Not as well as I’d like to, but well enough to know you’re jumpy.” He, too, glanced around the house. “Since you’re not the hysterical type, I’m concerned.”

His hand was still on her neck, and rather than complain or move away, she’d stepped closer. Spooked? It seemed so. “You can see nothing’s wrong.”

He nodded, but asked, “Mind if I have a look around?”

Her laugh was short and disbelieving. “I guess you can if you really want, but there’s no one else in here.”

“I won’t invade your privacy, okay? I’ll just look around real fast.”

“Fine.” But she went ahead of him, moving first to a desk area, closing a laptop, stacking a few papers and sticking them into a folder. Putting the folder under other things.

Hiding stuff.

No, he wasn’t an idiot. But whatever she had on the laptop was a mystery for another day.

Aware of her sticking close behind him, Nathan glanced into the kitchen and dining area, and checked that the back door was locked and the windows secure. He noticed not only that she was a neat freak, but that she had the outside lights on all the way around the house.

That was new. He was used to seeing her front porch light and a smaller light over her back door. But not the floodlights.

Next he went down the hall, peeked into her immaculate bathroom, even looked behind the shower curtain and in the linen closet, then went into a guest bedroom. She had it set up for making jewelry with a craft table, high swivel chair, two gooseneck lamps, tools and various containers. A cabinet made up of many small drawers sat against one wall, and on the other a variety of hooks held chains in different thicknesses and metals, along with some completed pieces. He would have liked to look at the jewelry more closely, but the inspection came first.

Lastly, he stepped into her bedroom. He should have taken only a quick look, checked the closet and maybe under the bed, then gotten the hell out of there.

But he lingered.

It was a hell of a lot more feminine than he’d expected. A fluffy, snowy-white comforter topped a full-sized bed over a pale blue pin-striped sheet set. Two fat ruffled pillows were at the top, with coordinating blue striped throw pillows. Abstract flower art in soft pastels filled one wall, and blue patterned curtains covered the only window.

He didn’t need to look under the bed. He could see beneath it from where he stood and there wasn’t even a speck of dust.

Striding ahead of him, her jerky movements giving away her nervousness, Brooklin opened the white slatted closet door. “See? I’m all alone.”

But she didn’t have to be. Chest expanding, Nathan nodded. “I see.” Get the hell out of her room. “So why are you edgy?”

She gestured at him. “You’re here.”

“I make you edgy?” Okay, so he knew he did on some level, but not like this.

Brooklin shook her head. “No. I mean, you poking around is unsettling.” In defiance, she said, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I’m hardly that. I’m a sheriff and—”

“And a man. I know. You’ve explained it.”

Yeah, he had. Seeing her standing five feet away from him, not getting any closer—not in her bedroom—he knew what he had to do.

He turned and walked out.

Going only as far as the living room, he sat down on the edge of a padded chair, legs apart, elbows propped on his knees, his fingers steepled together, and he waited.

Without a word, she joined him, sitting on the sofa opposite him. She didn’t look at him, but instead stared down at her feet and bit her lip.

Until then, probably because of his concern, he hadn’t noticed what she wore—or didn’t wear.

He did now.

Her feet were bare—slender, feminine feet, with smooth, shapely calves and her thighs... He saw that she kept her knees and ankles pressed together.

It was dangerous to his libido, but he took in the rest of her in a loose, short-sleeved nightshirt that landed midthigh. The shirt wasn’t snug, but he could still see her breasts, soft and full, beneath the thin material.

Her hair hung over one shoulder, she wore no makeup at all and he felt such a grinding lust it almost leveled him.

“I thought I heard someone outside.”

Nathan had gotten himself so mired in sexual thoughts, her words jolted him. “What do you mean? You heard someone, or you thought you heard someone?”

She shook her head and whispered desperately, “I don’t know.”

Dredging up his flagging sheriff mode, he said, “Tell me exactly what you heard.”

She swallowed, nodded. “I saw shadows first.”

“In back or in front?”

“Front. By my picture window. I...I don’t know. I was just heading to bed, but when I saw it, I froze, and by the time I got to the window to peek out, no one was there. But then I heard a noise at the back of the house. Like...”

Seeing she was truly shaken, Nathan left his chair, went to the couch and sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. “Like?”

Her gaze locked on his. “Like someone was trying the door.”

Don’t think about kissing her. Never before had it been such a struggle to stay professional. He looked away from her mouth and back to her incredible eyes. “Turning the doorknob?”

She nodded.

“I’m going to go take a look, okay? Sit tight and I’ll be right back.” He stood.

She shot up after him. “But it’s dark out there now.”

Who was she running from? Someone bad, given her reactions. Nathan took her hands, all the while telling himself that she was a woman alone, a woman suddenly frightened, and he was the freaking sheriff, one of the good guys, so he absolutely would not take advantage of her.

“It is. But, Brooklin, it was dark when I walked over here. It’ll be dark when I have to go home.” Unless she wanted him to stay? He shook his head. “I’ll be all right. You can lock the door behind me, okay?”

The offer left her divided. He could see that she most definitely wanted the door locked—but she didn’t want him on the other side of it.

He smiled to reassure her, briefly cupped her face, then went out the front door before he gave in to inappropriate urges that had no place in the moment. She didn’t lock it behind him.

Instead she followed him.

Sticking close.

He looked around the porch, but there wasn’t much to see. It hadn’t rained lately, so no mud had been tracked up onto the concrete. Her porch was as tidy as the inside of her house.

Far as he could tell, no one had tried to mess with the window. In the night with only the porch lamp, he didn’t see any fingerprints on the glass. “I’m going around back.”

She nodded, grabbed a fistful of his shirt at the small of his back and followed.

No denying it, it turned him on the way she trusted him. And getting to be the big bad protector fed some basic nature in most every guy.

But it also infuriated him that someone had scared her, had apparently impacted her life enough to leave her feeling threatened. More than anything, he’d love to run into some punk right about now, just so he could remove the worry from her eyes.

He didn’t need a flashlight to see around the house, not with all the outside lights on.

When he spotted the trampled flower in the landscaping, very near the back door, he paused.

Brooklin stared at it in horror.

“Could have been a dog, or even a raccoon or possum,” he said, though his damned instincts were going crazy, mostly because of her reaction. Around the back of the house, he found nothing amiss. Maybe some displaced mulch, but again, that could be a critter.

“Someone was here,” she whispered.

Since he couldn’t prove that, and no one was around now, his only thought was to reassure her. “You know there’s still some crime in the area. It’s a lot better since the revitalization program. Lots of new homeowners fixing up houses, new businesses moving in, more community involvement. But petty things still happen.” And some not-so-petty things.

“Yes, I know. I read all the literature before moving here.”

Of course she had. Unfortunately, there was nothing petty about her suspicions. Nathan took her arm and led her back to the house. Once inside, he said, “You’re not worried about a random break-in or burglary, are you, Brooklin?”

She frowned but didn’t meet his gaze. “Of course I am. Anyone with a brain worries about it.”

“So I guess I’ll rephrase that. You’re not only worried about a random act. You think someone has specifically targeted you.” He saw her face, the way she flinched, and knew he’d hit the mark. “The reason you relocated here... Someone was bothering you? Or worse?”

Because he’d pushed, she shut down on him. “Thank you so much, Nathan. As a neighbor you went above and beyond and I really do appreciate it.” She made a show of looking at the clock. “It really is late now—”

“Come to my house tonight.”

Her mouth was still open, midsentence, but after his blurted request, nothing else came out.

Getting closer, but not too close, Nathan stared down at her. “Not being alone would help. I promise.”

For a second, he thought she’d cry. Her mouth trembled, and she got that extra-soft look in her eyes, eyes that went a little glassy. But instead she smiled and even leaned against him for a moment, totally taking him off guard.

Before he could get his arms around her, she’d stepped back again.

“That’s a very nice offer, Nathan. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He thought it was a great idea. “You’re worried about me jumping past the sheriff mode, maybe even the neighbor mode, and going straight into interested guy mode, aren’t you?” This time he drew her in, not in an embrace, just nearer, his hands on her shoulders, which were hopefully safe ground. “I want you, Brooklin, you know that. But I’ll control myself. I won’t even hint that we should do more than get a good night’s sleep. You can have the bedroom and I can camp out on the couch.”

“I wouldn’t kick you out of your own bed.”

She hadn’t said an outright “no,” so it was his turn to smile. “You’re not willing to share it with me, either.” When she stayed quiet, he said, “Fine, you can take the couch. You’ll fit better than I would anyway.”

“Then what about tomorrow? And the day after that? I’ll be coming right back to the same ridiculous worry where I overreact and impose on a neighbor.”

“First,” Nathan said, “I’m more than a neighbor. Remember, I’m also the sheriff, and an interested guy. We’ve jogged together. We even ate at Screwy Louie’s.”

She almost laughed. “True, but that doesn’t really change anything. Not about tomorrow.”

“Second,” he said, stressing the word since she hadn’t quite let him finish. “Tomorrow you can buy alarms for the windows and doors. Then you’ll rest easier. If anyone tried to come in, you’d know it before they got one foot over the threshold.”

She looked uncertain, and very tempted. “Alarms?”

“You met Honor. I know you don’t know her well, but she had a similar situation. Hers really was random and petty crime, but she was plenty spooked. Around here, neighbors help neighbors, so Jason, Hogan and I, with Colt’s help, secured her place a little better. You could stay with me tonight. Then tomorrow I could pick up what you need.”

She started to protest, so he gave her a squeeze.

“You can pay me back. It won’t be a lot of money.”

Giving it some thought, she stared at his chest. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”

“I can help you get things installed. Or Colt could help you. He’s handy like his uncle, and being a high school senior, he’s always ready to earn a few bucks.”

Wanting to give in, but fighting it, she shifted, hugged herself, looked around her empty house, and then finally up at him again. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“No, of course not.” But he was wondering, Which part?

“Thank you. I promise I’m not usually so jumpy. It’s just that...” The explanation trailed off, and instead, she gave him a quick, self-conscious smile. “Just let me put on some yoga pants and flip-flops. Then I’ll grab a pillow and quilt.”

Nathan watched her go down the hall. It wasn’t the best of circumstances, but still, it felt like he was making great strides.

* * *

Sprawled naked on the floor, Violet tucked in close to his side, Hogan thought about life. “Not since high school have I sneaked in a quickie in such an awkward place.”

She snuggled closer, one of her slim legs over his, her fingers toying with his chest hair. “Two quickies,” she clarified. “And honest to God, Hogan, I’m not sure I could survive anything longer.” She pressed her warm mouth to his chest. “I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but that was...” Her breath teased over his skin. “I’m not sure I have words.”

Yeah, she was definitely good for his ego. “Given my past history—”

“Your history with women?”

“I meant sex, but yeah, with women. It has to be you.” Teasing her, he said, “You’re just easy.”

She lightly bit him, then licked the spot. “Not usually.”

He couldn’t deny that it had been somehow special, far more combustible than usual. Everything he did, she loved. And vice versa.

She moaned and he got harder. She squeezed him and he had to fight not to come. She made those breathy little sounds during her release, and he’d completely lost it.

“I wish we had another condom.”

Hogan grinned. “Easy, and greedy.”

Rather than laugh with him, she looked up, her eyes luminous in the dark room, her hair, now out of the ponytail, very messy and somehow sexier because of it. “I’d like to do this about a million more times.”

The words were light enough, undemanding, but still they stole his contentment. “Not tonight, I hope. I have to recoup.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

Why did she have to try to nail him down right now? He frowned, then closed his eyes. “I imagine we’ll have a hard time staying apart. Tomorrow might not work, not if we’re going to get all this work done.”

He felt her stillness, the reluctant way she settled against him again, this time without all the ease and comfort.

“I want to ask you something, Hogan. And I don’t want you to assume I’m pressing for more or anything like that. I’m not and I won’t. I’m a big girl and I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. You don’t have to worry that I’ll get all needy and clingy, okay?”

Hogan opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Jesus, she’d said a lot there, all of it some sort of prelude to whatever she planned to ask him, and he was just supposed to say, Go ahead? Even though he sensed an emotional trap of some kind? Frustration rolled over him, and damn it, he did want her again. Hell, he wanted her right now.

With a grave sigh, Violet squeezed him. “See? You’re already doing it. Just forget it, okay? Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“I wish we had another condom.” If they did, he could kiss her and she’d forget the stupid question, whatever it was.

“Me, too. I’ll remember to put more in my purse.”

Un-freaking-believable. He’d never known a woman like her. She wasn’t insulted that he didn’t want to talk, and she was even willing to let him distract her with sex.

Or maybe she hoped to distract him with sex. When it came to Violet, he could never tell for sure.

She patted him. “We’ll rest a few more minutes, and then we can head home—to our respective homes, I mean. You can just let me know when you want to get together again.”

She made him feel like a complete ass. To cover that, he stroked a hand down her side, past the dip in her waist and then to the rise of her hip. “We’ll be together tomorrow.”

“But like you said, we’ll be working. It’s okay. I understand.”

Well, damn it, he didn’t. The silence stretched out, and he knew, any second now, she’d decide it was time to go. Thoughts chewed on his peace of mind, more turbulent by the second, and even though he didn’t mean to, he spilled his guts.

“Everyone in my acquaintance—family, friends and coworkers—they all knew about my wife, what she’d done before she died.”

Violet went still, then very deliberately soft against him. “What did she do?”

“She cheated. Not with just one guy. Hell, maybe with more than two. But two for sure.” He could feel Violet’s heartbeat, strong and steady against his ribs. “She cheated, I found out, and before I could even show her how pissed I was, she died.”

Her fingers, small and soft and so damned competent with everything she did, whether it was working the diner, cleaning or making him insane with lust, teased over his abdomen. “How did she die?”

“She was leaving to meet a guy. We’d had a big fight and she just walked out. I knew where she was going, but I didn’t know what to do about it.” He shrugged, trying to sound unaffected by discussing the most miserable night of his life. “It was storming and she caused a wreck with three other cars. Luckily no one else was seriously hurt, but Meg wasn’t wearing her seat belt. They found her body in the street.”

It was so silent in the big empty room he heard Violet’s strained breathing.

“It was in all the papers, on the local news stations, lots of people asking too many questions. The guy she’d been going to meet fell apart, like maybe he’d been in love with her.” Hogan didn’t say too. “He knew he wasn’t the only one, but unlike me, he didn’t seem to care. The entire thing, all of it, was just pathetic. My ignorance, Meg’s lying, the way she died, and this other bozo who was content to be...not her husband.”

Violet hugged him and whispered, “I don’t really know what to say, except that I’m sorry.”

“I want you to understand, Violet. I came here, supposedly to a quieter life, and just when things seem to be falling into place, I get caught up in another massive scene where everyone knows my business, knows that my boss wanted in my pants, and that I ended up fired.” That wasn’t entirely fair and he knew it. He was likening the two situations when the similarities were light-years apart.

But he wanted to make a point. What point, he couldn’t say for sure. Or hell, maybe he’d just wanted to talk about it.

Violet squeezed him tight, her face in his neck. Then slowly she sat up. She pushed her hair back, and in the shadowy room he saw that her face was a mask of misery.

Damn. “I didn’t mean to say all that...”

“It’s what I was going to ask, so thank you for telling me.” After a shuddering breath, she managed a half-hearted smile. “You’re right, too. I really shouldn’t have gotten involved between you and that woman.”

“Her name is Joni—”

“I don’t care what her name is!” After that small explosion, she got herself together. “It wasn’t my place to get involved and I’m sorry. Really sorry. I can’t fix it now, except to try to make things work.” Her gaze flashed to his. “With the diner, I mean.”

“I knew what you meant.” Concentrating got more difficult. So did hanging on to the resentment from the memories. Violet was here in front of him, naked, her pale skin visible in the dark room, and he was starting to get hard again.

“I don’t know what happened with your wife, why things fell apart, but I’m sure everyone who knows you understood—”

“Understood what?” He wrapped a long lock of red hair around his finger. “That I wasn’t enough for her? That I was too blind to realize she was fucking two other guys, practically under my nose? That she’d bankrupted me, even robbed my son of his college fund? What could anyone have understood?”

Horror filled her eyes, and for a second he thought she might cry. It was the last thing he wanted. Hurting her would hurt him, too, and after reliving that god-awful humiliation, he already hurt enough. He whispered, “Violet... Don’t, honey. I’m sorry. I should have just answered your question, not gone off on a rant.”

“You did answer my question, but it was worse than I’d ever imagined.” Anger stiffened her shoulders, brought color into her cheeks and even brightened her beautiful eyes. “I’m sure anyone who knew you understood that your poor wife had ruined the very best thing to ever happen to her. And that’s really sad, Hogan. No one should be remembered for cheating and lying. She destroyed herself.”

“Yes.”

Violet flattened a hand on his stomach. “But she didn’t destroy you.”

For a while there, it had been a close thing. But now, he could agree. “No, she didn’t.”

He grunted when Violet dropped onto him, kissing his face all over from the bridge of his nose and his jaw, to his brow and the side of his mouth. “You’re a wonderful person, Hogan Guthrie. I’m so glad Colt has you.”

He took her shoulders and levered her back. “And I have him.”

“Exactly.” She gave him one more smooch, then wiggled her belly against him. “You’re hard again.”

No wonder. Her breasts were against his chest, her nipples once again puckered. He could feel her pubic hair on his hip, and her hair hung around him like a silky curtain. Cuddling her backside, he smiled and asked, “You’re sure?”

“Yes, most definitely. I’m totally impressed, too.”

“You should be.”

“I’d love to take advantage, I really would, but two mind-blowing climaxes, topped with heartbreaking disclosures, are more than I can take in one evening.”

“You probably needed to know.”

She nodded. “And I definitely needed the sex. But now I’m kaput and I think I need some sleep so I can keep up with you tomorrow.”

Amazed, Hogan swatted her on the butt. “I like how you did that.”

“What did I do?”

How could she look so innocent? He had half-moons in his shoulders from her nails, and his legs were still shaking from her enthusiasm. “You were you.”

She tried lifting a brow, but then laughed. “Am I supposed to understand that?”

The fact that she could laugh right now, and that she had him smiling because of it, was a wonderful thing.

“I’ll explain.” Hogan brought her down for a longer, softer kiss. He tangled a hand in her hair, tasting her, wanting her again, but able to show some restraint since, as she’d said, he’d just come twice.

Her small, soft body felt so perfect against his. But he knew the softness was a disguise, because Violet had an inner strength that awed him.

“Was that an explanation,” she teased, “or more of your torturous foreplay?”

“That was me unable to resist your mouth.” He kissed her again, briefly this time. “I told you about my humiliating past, and you didn’t look at me like a loser. You didn’t launch into more questions, or pity me, or get emotional—other than for a second or two. Instead, you were as you always are, very sweet and open and honest, and that steered me away from the morbid. You, Violet Shaw, are not only good for my ego... You’re also good for my frame of mind.”

“I have an idea.”

Hogan grinned. “I just bet you do.”

She folded her arms over his chest. “Maybe you could just always think about sex with me when those awful memories start to intrude.”

Pretending to consider it, Hogan slowly nodded. “That sounds like a very workable plan.” Truthfully, though, he’d probably be thinking about sex with her around the clock, awful memories or not.

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