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Authors: Kyra Jacobs

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BOOK: Armed With Steele
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I glared at him, closed-mouthed. Leave it to Nate to throw out the one reason that would keep me from tucking my tail and running. I yanked my arm as hard as I could the same moment he chose to release it. The combination sent me spiraling back toward the house. I didn’t bother to turn around. But that second door slam did provide a little more satisfaction.

 

 

Chapter 28

 

Charlie met me at his front door when I arrived back at his place that afternoon.

“So, how was your day?”

“Exhausting.” I threw my purse down and collapsed onto his leather couch.

“Sounds like someone could use a nap.” He waggled his eyebrows.


Oh, no
. I’m not going anywhere near that bedroom again with only you in the house. Lord only knows what would happen if Nate walked in to find—”

“To find what?” Nate stepped out of the kitchen, a pair of beer bottles in his hands.

I scowled. His car hadn’t been in the driveway when I’d pulled up. “Where did you come from?”

“My mother. Twenty-nine years ago. Do I need to explain the birds and the bees to you, too?” He stopped in front of me, and held out a beer.

“Very funny.” I swiped the bottle from him and took a good, long drink. It was going to take more than one beer and a few sarcastic remarks to wash away a day’s worth of festering over our morning confrontation.

“I followed you here, to answer your question.”

I froze in mid-swallow. Swallowed. “I didn’t see anyone following me today…”

“Tut, tut, tut. Sloppy work, Miss Hartley.”

Miss Hartley? I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle.
So that’s the way it’s going to be tonight?

“I can see where this is headed.” Charlie hopped up out of his seat. “If you two will excuse me, I’m going to start working on dinner.”

I looked from Charlie’s retreating figure back to Nate, eyes narrowed. “You got a problem, Officer Steele?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, really? Then what was all that sulking and scowling this morning?”

He took Charlie’s vacated seat and took a long drink. “That was me jumping to conclusions.”

“You’re damned right it was,” I said, prepping for round two.

He shrugged. “I’ve been burned before.”

Not the reaction I’d expected. “So what, I’m just like all the other women you’ve had before?”

He moved to the edge of his seat. “You’d better set your beer down, Jessica,” he said, his voice low, menacing. “Before things get ugly.”

I slammed my beer down onto the coffee table in front of me and glared at Nate. He took another drink, then set his bottle down as well. Next thing I knew, he was out of his chair and I was pinned beneath him on the couch.

“What the…get
off
!”

He tightened his grip on my wrists and raised them over my head. Then he slowly lowered his face down to mine. “To answer your question from a moment ago,” he said, eyes blazing, “the answer is ‘no,’ you’re nothing like the other women I’ve dated before.” He moved his face out of my line of sight, and brushed his lips along the hollow of my neck. “And technically I haven’t
had
you…yet.” He shifted above me, pressed his hips lower into mine.

I inhaled sharply. Then mentally cursed at myself for letting him hear it.

He chuckled, and his lips began to slowly trace my jaw line.

“Well, don’t hold your breath on that. You were a total ass last night. And this morning. And…”

“And now?” he breathed, his mouth finding the other side of my neck.

Desire coursed through my body like wildfire. “Yes. And now.”

I’d wanted the words to come out stronger than the near squeak that they did.

Suddenly his face was before mine, all puppy dog eyes begging for forgiveness. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” I snapped.

“Well, I told you. I hate losing.”

“So, what, I’m a cereal box prize now that you thought Charlie had reached first?”

Nate recoiled from my don’t-bullshit-me look. “No, I…well, sort of, I mean…”

I sighed. “Stop. Just, stop. And, can you let go of my arms? Seriously, I can’t feel my fingers any more.”

Nate did as I asked, but remained straddled over me.

“Look, I don’t know what your past girlfriends have done to you, and I don’t know that I’m even officially in that category or not, but if there’re two things I don’t do, it’s lie or cheat.”

Nate crossed his arms, and that left eyebrow of his launched skyward.

“Oh, well, okay, so maybe I have sort of fibbed about a few things. But, I’ve been under a little more stress than usual, alright?”

“I suppose some of that has been my fault.”

Ah, at last—a man unafraid to admit his guilt. It was nearly as much a turn-on as those bulging biceps of his. I reached my arms up, pins and needles stabbing every square inch of them, and pulled at his shirt collar. He lowered himself back down so that his face was just inches from mine. I met his gaze for a moment. Ran my half-numb fingers through his thick, dark hair. Pulled his lips to mine.

He melted to my touch, and began to run his hands through my hair as well. Which would have felt great if not for all this darned hairspray. He ended up yanking, instead of stroking, two fistfuls of my hair.

“Sorry,” he murmured without taking his lips from mine.

“Damn, you guys. Get a
room
.”

Nate looked up at Charlie, a sly look on his face. “Which one do you suggest?”

“You’ve got rooms at your own house. Now get in here and help me set the table.”

* * * *

“Make any progress at work today?” Charlie asked, reaching for a dinner roll.

“No. But I did have another love note waiting on my desk for me this morning.
Last chance. Back off now, before someone else gets hurt.

Nate’s grip tightened on the knife in his hand.

“Of course, I was in no mood for that this morning, so I just tossed it aside.”

Charlie grinned. No doubt Nate had filled him in on our morning spat.

Nate looked up from his meal. “Did you find anything else on Morrisson?”

“Not really. I tried to casually ask Vanessa what they did. For the woman who has the skinny on everything at Maxwell, I was kinda surprised she didn’t know much more about them than I did.”

“How the hell should
I
know what they do? I’m just a glorified hall monitor!”

I shook my head, glad to be away from my PMSing coworker. “So, how ’bout you guys? Find anything on your end?”

“I headed back up to Angola after my shift. And before you say it, Charlie had your back covered. I didn’t leave you high and dry.”

I snapped my mouth shut. He’d seen the tongue-lashing coming.

“Mr. Phillipe left his apartment around 4:30. Climbed back into his large, maroon cargo van and headed south. I followed him down I-69. He got off at exit 309A, ran a red light and I lost him.”

309A. Goshen Road. If he followed that a few miles, he’d end up on my front doorstep.

I struggled to keep hold of my utensils.

“You think he knew he was being followed?” Charlie asked.

“Not sure. Guy drives like an ass, regardless. Lead foot, even in his apartment complex.”

“S-so, he’s h-here? I-in Fort Wayne?”

Nate met my panicked gaze. “Yes. Though I doubt he was here doing business for Morrisson. The guy wasn’t dressed like a consultant—had some kind of uniform on.”

Charlie shrugged. “Maybe their couriers wear uniforms.”

“Or he’s got a second job,” I said. The thought of him working in town worried me even more. “Though, that’s a pretty long drive for a second job, don’t you think?”

Nate looked up from his green beans and grinned. “Depends on who’s driving.”

“Okay, Speedy. So, did he have a nametag or patch on his uniform?”

“Yeah, a white patch, with lettering the same color as his van.”

“Guy sure has a thing for maroon,” Charlie mumbled.

“Or his van is a company vehicle,” I said. “Nate, are you sure there weren’t any markings on the van?”

“None that I could see.” Nate shifted in his seat and retrieved his cell phone from his front jeans pocket. “I snapped a few pictures of it on my cell today. Here.”

I looked at the photos on his phone. He was right: maroon cargo van, no markings. But something about that van looked oddly familiar…

“Jess?”

“Seems like I’ve seen this van somewhere before. But I can’t think of where it was.”

Charlie took the phone from my hand and looked for himself. “I’m sure you have. That’s a pretty common model.”

I shrugged. “You’re probably right.” I looked back to Nate, who was still staring intently at me. “What?”

“Are you sure you can’t remember where you’ve seen it?”

I shook my head. “No. But if it comes to me, I’ll let you know.”

I hated not being able to remember. Hated more that someone connected to Morrisson was in the same town as us. And hated most of all that there was probably a connection between everything staring us right in the face.

* * * *

As I was putting the last of our dinner plates into Charlie’s dishwasher, Grace called.

“Hey, Grace, how are you today?”

“Been better.” She sounded down, which was a rarity with Grace. “Jess, can…can I ask you something?”

I stopped what I was doing. “Of course.”

“Are…are you mad at me?”

My heart broke in two. I left Charlie and Nate to talk football and headed for the guest bedroom—a safe place to go once more, now that both men were in the house.

“No, sweetheart, of course I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

She sniffled. “Well…it’s just that…you haven’t been here much this week. I mean, you were here a ton this weekend, and then suddenly it was you working with this client, and that client. You didn’t come to see me yesterday. Or today. And, well…” More sniffling. “I thought maybe I’d said something to upset you.”

Oh, how I longed to wrap my arms around her and soothe those worries away! “Grace, listen to me. There is nothing, and I mean
nothing
, that you have done or said to upset me.” I ran a hand through my hair, got caught on hairspray, and nearly ripped a chunk out in frustration.

I wanted my old hair back. My old
life
back.

Or did I?

I stopped in front of a mirror in Charlie’s guest bedroom and caught sight of my reflection. A prettier version of me. Filled with more confidence than I’d ever felt. I was working undercover, for crying out loud! Practically putting my life on the line to help my best friend. How could I want to give any of this up?

“And,” I began again, trying to think quickly on my feet, “well, I’ve had a lot going on these past few weeks that have me a little…preoccupied.”

“Wait, you mean, Nate?” A smile crept into her soft voice. Relief washed over me.
This
was the Grace I knew and loved.

“He might have something to do with it.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh, Jess, I’m so happy that you’ve…ah, well, you know.”

Moved on.

Until that moment, I’d been denying myself the notion that I could move on. That I would ever be able to open my heart up again. I smiled as I realized just how far I’d come this past month. Felt blessed to have a best friend who knew me so well, and for the man who’d helped bring me out of my emotional darkness and back into the light.

“Yeah,” I said. “Me, too.”

“Will you come and see me tomorrow?”

The smile in my reflection faded. That wasn’t a promise easily kept. “I’ll do my best. In the mean time, you need to focus on your rehab so you can come home sometime this decade.”

BOOK: Armed With Steele
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