Once the road was clear in both directions, the truck swerved into the other lane and sped up to pull alongside her car. The man from the gun shop leveled a weapon at her through his open window.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grinned.

Bella squeezed the trigger on her Sig, already aimed at his head. “Bye, dickhead.”

He slumped to the side, giving her a clear shot at the driver. Without missing a beat, she squeezed off two more rounds before slowing down. The truck veered to the left, hit a small ditch, and eventually rolled to a stop by a clump of trees.

She pulled to the side, grabbed her backpack, and raced to check the men for pulses. Finding none, she holstered her weapon, fished a scanner from her bag, then pressed each of their thumbs onto the screen, and frowned at their identities.

Russians?

Cursing under her breath, she rifled through the nearest mobster’s pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed her boss.

“Need a cleanup crew for the two dead Russians cluttering the Service Road in Hammonton. I just sent you their thumbprints.”

“Did you say Russians?”

“Yep. Shook them loose at a gun shop in Camden.” She pulled out her own phone and took several photos of the men while she talked. “There’s plenty of open field for an in and out sweep. The crew can track this number for exact location.”

“Roger. Anything new on Rasheed?”

She’d forwarded the ID photos to him last night. A flood of frustration tightened her chest. “Negative.”

Unless Knight discovered something while she was away.

“We’ll analyze this new development and get back to you,” her boss stated. “Out.”

“Roger. Out.” She hung up, and tossed the dead Russian’s phone onto his chest, then glanced at her own phone in her other hand.

Shit. She picked up her pace. She was going to be late.

Normally Bella wouldn’t care, but today was the anniversary of Mrs. Santarelli’s death, and she wanted to make sure he wasn’t left alone, or tried to skip out on them.

Pushing the speed limit, Bella managed to get back to the apartment in record time, but not quickly enough. Matteo was getting out of his car as she pulled in behind him.

The setting sun cast an orange glow that competed with the brilliance of his grin. Shit. She sat up with a start. He was turning her mind sappy again. Freakin’ sexy frogman.

With a shake of her head, she got out of the car and met him on the sidewalk where he stood waiting for her.

“Hey, beautiful.” His tone was as warm as his gaze, and dammit, just like that, her heart skipped a beat, and whole body softened.

Clearing her suddenly dry throat, Bella tried to think of something witty to say, but her damn mind snagged on the fact he looked good enough to eat. Probably the adrenaline getting in the way because she still hadn’t quite come down off that high. Although, the way he stood with his coat open and the wind plastering his T-shirt against his powerful chest, showcasing the definition beneath didn’t help. 

But what really did her in was the tuft of dark hair that blew across his forehead, reminding her of a youthful Matteo and how he used to coax her into the ocean and they’d swim for hours and relax on the sand until the sun fell from the sky. Despite the tragedy in her life, he made her laugh. All the time. With him, she felt light and carefree and good.

God, she missed him. Missed her, too.

“Bella…” He sucked in a breath and stepped close. “What are you thinking?”

She shook her head, trying desperately to dispel the melancholy.

He lifted a hand and softly ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Look at me.”

Without her permission, her damn gaze lifted to meet his, and all the youthful yearning and longing she’d suppressed for years suddenly reappeared. Reaching out, she set her hands on his chest, needing to touch something solid, needing him to ground her because she was feeling way too shaky for her liking.

“Tell me,” he urged quietly.

The resurfacing of those feelings brought with it a flood of pain. “Did I even cross your mind once, Matteo?”

His gaze softened. “You never left it.”

“Then why did you leave me?” Her voice came out hoarse, but she didn’t care. She needed to know.

“Because I was a fool.” He moved his hand to cup the side of her head and kissed the tip of her nose. “A damn fool.”

“Good answer,” she murmured right before his lips brushed hers. Awareness fluttered through her belly, reminding her how he used to make it feel like an invisible butterfly sanctuary in her youth.

But there was nothing youthful about his kiss. It was direct, persistent, like he knew what he wanted and went for it.

And damn, it was what she wanted too.

His fingers moved against her scalp and she melted. No warning. Her bones just melted clean away. Matteo changed the angle and proceeded to knock her off-kilter with a wet, hot, deep kiss that was good. So damn good. She gripped the lapel of his coat and pressed her tongue to his.

A sexy sound rumbled in his throat as he glided his other hand down to her hip and pulled her in closer. Then closer still. A rush seared through her still fluttering belly. She could feel his heart pounding at Mach speed, and every single delicious inch of him. And damn, the man had some amazing inches.

Bella was lost, spinning in the sensations that would surely drown her if she allowed. But before she could even contemplate her decision, a passing car honked its horn amid a chorus of catcalls and whistles.

***

Matteo drew back at the same time as Bella. They blinked at each other. That was when he remembered where they were, in the middle of the sidewalk, not far from terrorist sympathizers, out in the open, distracted—easy targets. 

He muttered a curse. “Sorry.” Leaning forward, he kissed her nose again. “I lose all sense of time and place when my lips are on you.”

“Ditto.” She nodded, drawing in a deep breath, apparently just as lost as he’d been. “We should probably grab the pizza from your car and get inside. I’m sure Knight is gnawing on his fists by now.”

Laughing, he reached for her hand. “The pizza’s already in there.”

“It is?” She glanced at him and frowned. “Then why were you in your car?”

Walking with her to the building, he slid his arm around her and grinned. “I forgot my phone.” He let go of her hand and opened the door, standing back for her to enter. She’d barely gotten inside the entrance when a white blur rushed toward their feet.

“Oh, dear…grab her! Don’t let her outside!” An elderly woman stood in the doorway of an apartment across the hall, gripping several letters in one hand and a walker in the other, her eyes wide with horror.

Instinct kicking in, he reached down and came back up with a protesting fluffy white ball of fur.

“Oh…be careful,” the older woman warbled.

A second later, he cradled the cat against his chest and spoke in a low and soothing tone, and just like that the screeching stopped, and a loud purr echoed through the hall.

“That’s wonderful. Ms. Puss hardly ever purrs for strangers.” The lady smiled.

Bella waived in a dismissive gesture. “He has that effect on females. He’s Matteo and I’m Bella.”

He wondered if that meant he had that effect on her.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Franny. And it’s wonderful to see a kind, respectful couple move into this building.”

The woman obviously missed their passionate display on the sidewalk a few minutes ago.

“Matteo, can you bring Ms. Puss in here for me?” Franny asked.

He nodded, stroking the cat. “Sure. No problem.”

“Such a nice young man.” The lady backed into her apartment. “Sorry. Had my dang hip replaced last month and I’m still getting used to this daggone thing.”

“Take your time.” He slowly followed her inside and stiffened.

The apartment was not what it had seemed on the outside.

Disgust soured his mouth. It was fucking wall-to-wall holiday wonderland. Every inch of Franny’s apartment was decorated with lights and holly and ceramic Santa’s. A tabletop tree twinkled in front of the window, surrounded by a miniature light-up village, and on the couch sat over a dozen knitted Christmas scarves.

Who needed that many scarves?

“Bella, can you shut the door, dear? That way Matteo can put Ms. Puss down.”

Biting back a grin, she did as directed. “It’s beautiful in here.”

She would like it. Even with all her losses, she’d managed to somehow retain her Christmas spirit.

“Thank you.” Franny beamed. “I’m eighty-four years old, with a no-good hip, but I’m not dead yet. I did it all myself. My children and grandchildren all moved out of state.”

“I’m sorry.”

He could tell by the sadness and longing clouding her gaze that she’d give anything to have her grandmother back. And her mom. And her dad.

Without question, he’d do anything to wind the clock back five years, just to see his mother one last time.

Franny shrugged. “It’s okay. I Facetime with them and my grandkids.”

Matteo was impressed. There were a lot of people her age who didn’t know how to use a cell phone, let alone features like that on a smartphone.

“Besides.” Franny smiled. “I have Ms. Puss to keep me company.”

He nodded absently…still stroking the cat.

“You can put her down now.” Bella came over to lightly touch his arm. Compassion filled her gaze.

“All right.” He set the cat on the floor, and the feline rubbed around his leg twice before sauntering off into the other room.

“Thank you again, Matteo. I’d like you to give you something for saving her.” Franny shuffled over to the couch and grabbed a scarf off the cushion.

Oh, hell no.

“I save up every year to make these for my family and friends,” she told them. “I’d like you to have one.”

Damn. He held his hands up and shook his head. “That’s not necessary, ma’am. I was glad to help.”

“I insist. It would mean the world to me to actually see someone wearing one of my creations in person, instead of in a photograph, or on the screen of my phone.” Then without waiting for him to refuse again, the woman shuffled right up to him and looped it around his damn neck.

Bella bit her lips but he still heard her snicker. He glanced down at the black scarf with red reindeer and tried desperately to think of a way to take it off and leave it without offending the poor lady.

“Look how great that goes with your coat, Matteo,” Bella said, with a grin. Damn woman was enjoying his discomfort way too much. “Such a generous gift. Thank you, Franny. I’m sure he’ll treasure it.”

The trick was going to be keeping him from tossing it away once they got upstairs.

“And I’ll treasure seeing him wear it every day.” Franny clapped her hands, her blue gaze warm and over bright with tears. “You remind me of my grandson, Patrick.”

Ah, hell. She had to bring tears into it, and play the grandson card. Now he had to wear it. He couldn’t deliberately break the old woman’s heart.

Matteo cleared his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.” Sweat was starting to break out on his temple. “If you’ll excuse us, we have to go.”

He grabbed Bella’s hand and practically dragged her into the hall, and didn’t stop until they were upstairs, standing outside the apartment door. “Sorry.” He released her hand and smiled. “I was on decoration overload. Besides, I’m starved.”

She smiled back. “Me, too.”

“Let’s hope they left us some.” He chuckled as he opened the door. There was a good chance they were too late.

“There you two are. I was wondering what happened…to…” Knight’s words halted and he blinked before dividing his gaze between them.

Something in his face must’ve conveyed his reluctance to discuss the atrocity around his neck, because neither of them mentioned the scarf on the coat he quickly shed and tossed across the room onto the couch.

“Any pizza left?” Bella asked, shrugging her coat off and setting it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

Brooke nodded. “Yeah, we left you a half a pie.”

He snorted. “Good thing I brought two.” Or there’d be nothing left. Matteo chuckled pulling a chair out for Bella.

A shaft of warmth spread through her gaze. “Thank you.”

“It’s probably cold by now,” Knight said.

“That’s okay.” He sat next to her and smiled. “Bella and I like cold pizza.” They’d practically lived off it as kids.

While they ate, the other two remained by the computers and filled them in on the day’s un-excitement. Not only were they watching feed on the building across the street, they now had access to Simpson’s mansion.

“Nothing exciting happened at either place today,” Knight informed in a dull tone. “The guys across the street mostly read or played handheld video games. And when they left, it was to meet Paresh for lunch at your shop, Matteo. Then they walked the boardwalk for an hour before Paresh went home, and the other two returned here.”

Made no sense. They had to be missing something.

“And Simpson’s place?” Matteo asked, reaching for the final slice of pizza the sweet woman just set on his plate.

“Nothing much. He was at work most of the day.” Brooke nodded to another monitor with feed of a darkened office.

Bella grinned. “You’ve been busy.” Envy ricocheted through her expression. “You snuck into his executive office at the casino.”

Admiration washed through him. A huge challenge. One he got the impression she would’ve loved to have been in on.

“I had time to waste during lunch,” Brooke replied. “Besides, you were off doing laundry.”

Knight turned to stare right at Bella. “Must’ve been a big load. Is that why you were late?”

Bella shrugged. “I would’ve been here sooner, but traffic was murder.”

Odd. He hadn’t encountered too much on his way over, and he’d only arrived ten minutes before her.

“I wasn’t all that late,” she said. “Matteo and I were downstairs helping one of the tenants with her cat. She was sweet. And grateful. She gave poor Matteo that scarf to wear, and expects to see it on him all the time.”

He shifted in his chair. “Don’t remind me.”

“Well, I think it’s cute.” She grinned, getting up to clear the table.

Cute was not the word he would choose. He rose to his feet and helped, before walking over to the monitors and gripping the back of an empty chair. Unease settled over his shoulders, while anger heated his blood. These men hurt his father, and now they were planning an attack in his city.

“Does Simpson have any ties with Russia?” Bella asked out of the blue.

He reeled back and turned to face her, along with Knight and Brooke.

She raised a brow. “What? It’s a hunch.”

Knight narrowed his gaze. “Hunch, my ass. But I’m guessing you can’t talk about it, so thanks for the tip.”

She nodded. “And thanks for the pizza.” Her gaze met his as she reached for her coat. “I have to go, but if you need company later, just knock.”

Understanding softened her gaze, and he knew that wasn’t a sexual proposition. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with friendship, and the fact it was a hard day because of the loss of his mother.

Touched by her unexpected show of concern and that she’d expressed it in front of an audience, he stepped close to help her into her coat, and to touch her, needing the physical connection to solidify the emotional one flowing between them.

His feelings for her increased—if that were possible—and Matteo knew his days of fighting their connection were over.

He loved her. And soon he was going to tell her. And show her. And beg her forgiveness for the past…and for Rasheed.

But for now, he’d have to settle for squeezing her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, turning her to face him. “I appreciate it.”

A warm smile eased across her face. “I’ll see you later.”

Count on it. He nodded and forced his hands to release her. But only physically because she still had a grip on his thoughts long after she’d left. And after an hour and half of phone calls and back-tracking paper trails that yielded nothing extra, he rose to his feet and stretched the kinks out of his back.

“Go home, Reaper,” Knight said, getting up to put on another pot of coffee. “There’s nothing pressing going on. Brooke and I can handle the surveillance. Go get some rest. You look beat.”

He suddenly felt drained. “Will do,” he replied, shoving his coat on, too tired to even give a shit about the festive scarf around his neck.

All he knew was he had to see Bella, and the urge had nothing to do with any fear for her well-being. In fact, it had to do with his. But first, he needed to make a stop. One he’d been putting off all day.

 

An hour later, he sat in the car and stared at his house. It was dark, unlike most of the others on his street. Festive lights adorned porches and trees and yards in a show of holiday cheer. Even Bella had a wreath on her door and lights wrapped around her porch railing, and she’d suffered a hell of a lot more losses over the years than he had, and yet, she still celebrated.

His yard reflected his cheer. He had none. What little he’d ever had had died with his mom. She was the one with all the cheer. Hell, his dad had always joked she’d had enough for the whole family.

God, he missed that. He missed her. Guilt clawed at his gut and weighed heavily in his chest for not coming home more often. His fault. An airplane could’ve gotten him back to base in time if he’d been called up. And the worst part was he could fly, he just never bothered to go through testing to get his license. There were a lot of things he’d never bothered to do that he’d wanted. It was time to change that because regrets sucked. And he refused to have any more—starting with Bella.

He glanced at her house.

If you need company later, just knock.

Her invitation drifted through his mind. Lord knew he wanted to take her up on it, but it was late. Later than he’d expected to get home. He’d sat by his mother’s grave a lot longer than planned.

With a sigh, he got out of his car and ordered his feet to head home, but somehow, he ended up in front of Bella’s door. Christ, he didn’t even remember knocking, but he must have, because it opened, and without a word, she smiled and stood aside to let him in.