In the Arms of a Stranger (Entangled Ignite) (11 page)

She looked up at him, a pretty woman who’d had enough heartache to fill a lifetime, and nodded, as if he’d spoken some great truth.

He let her lead the way to her car. When they reached it, she turned. “Would Brooks have followed me?”

He was proud of her for asking, for thinking.

“He could have. Should have, probably. But I didn’t see anybody when you got here.”

“You’d know that, wouldn’t you? I didn’t even know you were in the bar, but you knew I was, and had checked to see if someone followed me.”

And that said so much. About the lives they led. About their differences.

And about the countless reasons he could never act on the potent attraction they both felt.

…

They waited until darkness settled completely, then Abby followed JP, who led the way in an older model truck. They were well away from town, where there were no streetlights. It was really dark.

Abby was scared.

Scared of what she’d find—of
who
she’d find—despite the fact that JP said Wade wouldn’t have another family.

She was also scared of her reactions to JP.

Admit it. That’s what scares you the most
. She’d already accepted that she hadn’t known Wade at all. That everything she’d learn about him from here on out would probably hurt like hell.

But JP Blackmon did things to her. Things she wasn’t prepared for.

Distracted by her chaotic thoughts, she almost missed when he pulled off the main road. The houses in this isolated neighborhood stood well apart, the numbers on the mailboxes illuminated by her headlights. The house—Wade’s house—was on the right. It was dark inside.

The cedar shingle residence stood on pilings. The vapor light from the house next door lit up the side where a thatch of pampas grass grew, and just beyond that, reeds and water. She stopped her car, trying not to think about where she was. About how the next few minutes might change her life completely.

The sound of tapping on her window made her turn. JP signaled to roll it down.

“I’m going to check out the house. Turn off your lights. Stay here,” he said.

She did as he asked and watched him walk toward the nearest corner of the structure, by a piling, and vanish beneath the house proper. Moonlight shone bright and clear but did not penetrate the darkness where he’d disappeared.

The sounds of night soon returned. The crickets and frogs. Her eyes grew more accustomed to the dark. She thought she saw some movement on the far side of the house, but wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to go home and forget the crazy notion that she could lay her past to rest.

Then she saw him walking toward her. Tall and strong, shrouded in moonlight, dark hair gleaming, face shadowed. Just his walk was enough to make shivers run up her arms. Totally masculine, completely coordinated, at ease with himself. And his life.

And she was so drawn to him. What in the world was wrong with her? Another dangerous man? Another secretive stranger? No.
Hell
, no.

“It’s closed up tight,” he said, bending to talk to her through the open car window.

She glanced at the house, then back at him. She’d made the decision to do this. She’d come this far. It was time to take the next step.

“There was a key with the papers.”
There
. It was done. A leap of faith.

He nodded, his gaze steady in the moonlit night. “Were you going to tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

He smiled, then chuckled, just a little. “Don’t change, Abby. Stay honest.” With that he straightened, walked around to the passenger side of her car, and got in. “Turn on your lights and pull into the driveway. Let’s see if your key works.”

She did as he asked, parking next to the house. She fumbled in her purse for the key, by itself on a heavy metal ring. JP got out and came around to her side of the car. He stood back a little to let her climb out, but was still close. She held out the key to him.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said, and she wondered if he was reassuring her that she wouldn’t find evidence of another family in there.

She nodded, unable to do anything else.

Before she knew what had happened, he reached out and cupped the back of her neck with his hand. The touch was nothing more than a light squeeze, a reassurance. And every nerve in her body responded.

He took the key ring from her suddenly clumsy fingers. “Let’s give it a shot.”

She followed him, her heart beating heavily, wishing she didn’t know why her legs were shaking, wishing she didn’t have this…this visceral reaction to a man she’d met only yesterday.

She could see everything clearly in the glow from the security floodlights that came on as they walked up the driveway. The pilings, a thick rope hanging from a nail by the steps, the steps that led up to a deck that ran around the entire house, as if someone had planned it to be able to see in all directions. JP’s footsteps were silent as he climbed. They crossed the deck to the front entry. He tried the key. The door swung open.

She could almost feel his wariness as he entered the dark, silent house. She thought she saw him reach inside his windbreaker, but then he flipped on the lights, and surprise was her only reaction.

It looked like her house—hers and Wade’s. The two easy chairs, the couch, the coffee table. Even the lamps were similar. On the walls were several seascape paintings and a framed poster that announced a fishing rodeo. On one lamp table there was a framed picture of the back of a man who could be Wade, much younger, on a fishing boat. A young blond woman stood beside him, touching his shoulder. The touch spoke of familiarity.

Yes, Wade was dead. Yes, this was a cover. Probably. But it reminded her vividly of all the secrets he’d kept from her. Hurt washed over her and she had to hold her breath to keep from moaning. She forced herself to continue her study of the house and its contents.

On the other lamp table, there was only a phone.

“Where would he hide something?”

JP’s question drew her attention away from her observations.

She shuddered out a breath. “I don’t know.” Now that she was here, she realized all that talk had just been an excuse to come and see this place for herself. But despite the hurt—or maybe because of it—she was glad she’d come. It felt oddly like…closure. Discovering his huge deception, she’d lost something precious. Seeing this place, the stark evidence of his deceit—yet oddly reassuring in its cozy familiarity—forced her to deal with the truth. And accept it.

He’d lied to her from day one. But he had loved her.

“Think. Where would he put something of value? Something he wanted to hide?”

God help her, she really didn’t know. “You knew him, too. Better than me.” How it pained her to say it.

He stepped close, put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb touching her throat lightly. “I just knew a different side of him.”

She nodded, unable to take her eyes away from the intensity in his.

“Never mind. There may be nothing here,” he said, his voice soothing.

But she knew better. She thought of Cole, so like his father, and felt the unwelcome sting of tears behind her eyes. The realization that they were for her son, not for her, told her she’d turned another corner. She’d turned the first months ago, when she’d removed her wedding band without ceremony and put it in her drawer. But now, inside Wade’s secret house, she knew she really had moved on. She would mourn the loss of Cole’s father for the rest of her life, the loss of the man she’d thought she’d married, but she would not let his death, the facts of his life, rule the rest of her life. Or Cole’s.

She felt the brush of JP’s finger against her cheek, against the wetness of a tear that had somehow escaped her control. He tilted her face up toward him, and she saw what she should have seen in the bar.

The role he’d played for the waitress was more than just a role. She wasn’t naive enough to believe there was anything beyond physical attraction on his part, but it had moved beyond attraction. In his eyes shone the light of pure desire.

And when his hand cupped her cheek, when his thumb brushed over her lips and tenderly pulled the lower one down the tiniest bit, she took a trembling breath. One he stopped with the pressure of his mouth.

Whatever sort of kiss he’d intended for show earlier, a show that had sensitized her to him, had been nothing. This kiss blotted everything else from her mind. She stood there, her arms limp at her sides, and tried to form one rational thought.

But there was nothing. Nothing except JP Blackmon and the sensations rioting through her.

Tenderness and heat and passion. All of it wrapped in the sheer masculinity of him. She had to reach out, had to touch. Her arms, unresponsive only seconds ago, obeyed her confused command to move. She reached up, her hands clutching his wrists, moving up the strength of his arms, to feel the rough silk of his hair at the back of his head. He dropped his hands from her neck and pulled her against him, but it wasn’t enough. She rose up on tiptoes, leaned into him. And her fingers felt the smooth ridges of the scars beneath his hair.

Shocked at her own reaction, at her awakening desire, she pulled away, attempted to turn from him so he wouldn’t see her face, but he held her firmly, gently, and stopped her. She looked first at his chest, then up at his face.

“I won’t say I didn’t mean to do that, because it wouldn’t be true,” he said, releasing her, but holding her with his eyes. “I just didn’t mean to do it here, like this.”

She shook her head, her thoughts tumbling around for some sort of response while her heart raced.

He gazed down at her, his face unreadable. “And
that’s
why you can’t go with me.”

…

He was pond scum. Lower than pond scum. JP tried to forget the look of confusion—and the desire behind it—in Abby’s eyes.

He shouldn’t have allowed her to come along, shouldn’t have allowed himself to slip up and kiss her. Because he wanted her. He’d wanted her for what felt like a lifetime, but he’d only known her for one damn day.

Tasting her again had done nothing but make him want her more.

And he’d probably royally screwed any hope of having her trust him. Because no way could he trust himself not to taste her again.

He’d never wanted anything like he wanted this woman. What was laughable was that it wasn’t about wanting sex. He’d had sex before without any deeper feelings. This was…different. No, he wanted what Abby promised.

Home. Hearth. Family. Stability.

He’d lost his fucking mind
.

She picked that moment to push a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a nervous movement, one that drew his attention to her face. To her mouth, still puffy and damp from their kiss.

Well, hell.
Don’t fool yourself
, he chided silently. Home and hearth and apple pie were fine and good, but they didn’t change the fact that what he wanted right now was to pull this woman into his arms and make love to her.

Love
. Hell, he hadn’t thought of sex as making love in years.

He was so screwed
.

He blotted everything but the practical from his mind. Before coming in, he’d made sure no traps awaited them. But Wade had specifically said “the Springs.” That meant there absolutely
was
something here.

But damn it, if Wade had set him up, it made no sense that he’d lead him here.

Unless it had originally been a trap to get him here and kill him. But why tell Abby that he would come to his aid? Wade had loved her. He was sure of that much. How could he not?

So, he was back to the theory that someone else had set up both him and Wade. But why? And who? Brooks? He didn’t like the man, but that didn’t make him a traitor.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, surprising him out of his racing thoughts.

“Thinking?”

“You’re thinking about something. But not about…”

“Kissing you.”

“No, not about that.”

He raised a brow. “How do you know?”

“Because,” she said, “you weren’t smiling.”

He smiled at that. She was such a pleasure. A joy.

And he was
so
damned screwed.

Chapter 8

Abby didn’t kid herself into believing she could read JP, but there had been a moment when she knew, with everything in her, that he’d moved beyond the kiss they’d shared, beyond the single moment when he’d smiled. To something else.

To what had brought them together.

Wade
.

“Let’s check out the place,” JP said finally.

She didn’t even know where to begin.

“Just look in the usual places,” he said, leading the way down the small hallway after turning on the light.

There were two bedrooms. At least Wade had thought of Cole.

She’d lost her mind
.

This had nothing to do with Cole or her. This house was not intended for them. Wade had bought it before Cole was born. Before he’d even met her. Had he ever planned to tell her about it?

“This looks like the master suite,” JP said, turning to one of the bedrooms. “Why don’t you look in here?”

Because I don’t want to!

She was being childish, ridiculous. She’d just admitted to herself that she had moved on, beyond the loss of her husband. She’d been kissed senseless by a man who attracted her like crazy. A man she’d kissed back with way more passion than she’d thought possible given the setting—never mind how foolish that made her—yet she was silly enough to balk at going any further in the search? She’d insisted on coming here. She’d given JP the key to get in, for heaven’s sake. Now she was just being a coward.

“Of course,” she replied, steeled herself, and flipped on the light in the room.

And was instantly broadsided.

It was a woman’s room
.

Multicolored pastel pillows were arranged carefully over a heavy cream spread. An antique vanity table sat against one wall, a dresser against another. A sewing machine next to it.

Her throat tightened in a stranglehold.
Oh, God. Wade. Why didn’t you tell me?

“Everything okay?” JP called from the next room.

“Fine,” she rasped.

As fine as I can be after finding out my husband really did have another family
.

The waitress said Luke was a widower. What if that was really true?

Tentatively at first, she walked across the room to the dresser. Three small drawers on top, two medium ones in the middle, two large ones toward the bottom.
She could do this
.

Two pictures, one framed in an elaborate silver frame, the other in one of those Plexiglas holders, sat on top of the dresser. They were both of the woman in the fishing picture with Wade. She was young in one, a bit older in the other. Smiling gracefully into the camera.

Beside the silver-framed picture, there was an intricately worked silver box of some sort. When she opened it, she realized it was a jewelry box. A gold charm bracelet lay atop two silver hoop bracelets. She reached in and lifted the bracelets, curious to see the charms. Then, beneath them, she saw a white gold wedding band. Her breath caught. A man’s ring. She picked it up and turned it, reading the inscription inside.

Luke and Mary.

Wade had never worn a wedding band. At least not with her.

“Did you find something?” JP asked, coming through the door.

She turned, the ring clutched in her hand.

“It’s…”
She couldn’t deal with this. Could. Not
. “A man’s ring,” she managed. She didn’t cry. She’d worn out those emotions. Run out of tears. Nothing was left. She simply stared at the ring in her hand, then held it out to JP.

He plucked the ring from her palm and looked up, sympathy in his eyes.

“Hey!” someone shouted from the front. “Luke? That you?”

He dropped the ring back onto her hand and turned, reaching inside his windbreaker. The way he held his body, his movement toward the door, everything about him in that instant told her more about his profession than he ever could with words. He disappeared into the hallway. A moment later, she heard the stranger again.

“Luke, hey, man, I was beginning— Whoa! I thought you were—hey, you’re his brother, right? He told me you might be coming. But, dude, I expected you a long time ago.”

JP’s reply was lost on Abby. Whoever was out there sounded young. The neighbor boy hired to check on the house, she guessed. She couldn’t decide whether to join them or stay in the bedroom.

“Luke’s good, then?” the teenager asked.

Again, she couldn’t hear. She couldn’t contain her curiosity. She peeked around the corner.

Two boys, probably just out of high school. One was tall, lean, with the promise of filling out. The other, shorter, on the heavy side.

“There you are, honey,” JP said when he spotted her. “My wife, Abby.”

The tall one smiled. He showed no reaction to her name. Was that what JP intended when he’d used it?

“Honey, this is Kyle and his friend Joe. Kyle’s taking care of the place for Luke.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kyle said. “I don’t remember Luke saying you were married.”

“Newlyweds,” JP said.

Joe nodded at her, but didn’t say anything.

“You guys staying in town?” Kyle asked.

“Haven’t decided. Depends on what we need to do around here.”

“I’ve kept the yard in pretty good shape. The heat and air work, no plumbing problems. I hate drawing that money from Luke every month when he hasn’t been in touch.”

“Hey,” Joe said to Kyle, “if the guy’s willing to pay you, take it.”

She didn’t like Joe’s attitude.

“Luke told you he might be gone for a while, didn’t he?” JP asked.

“Yeah,” Kyle nodded. “Well, he always did before, so I just guessed it was going to be like always.” His brows furrowed. “Except this time he called.”

Abby’s heart skipped a beat.

“When?” JP interjected.

“Last year. Actually, just a little over a year ago.” He thought for a moment and gave them a rough date.

The week Wade had died.

“He told me you’d be coming. I thought he meant soon.” Kyle shrugged. “He told me to tell you to remember…let me get this right.” He paused. “He said rule number three. Yeah. Remember rule number three, then forget it.”

“Rule three?” JP repeated, his eyebrows rising.

“Yeah. Forget it, he said. I didn’t understand, and asked him to explain, but he sounded rushed.”

“He say anything else?”

“No, just to expect you and give you the message. What did he mean?”

“Brother stuff,” JP replied with a smile, looking around. “Everything looks great, you did a good job.”

Abby could tell Kyle wanted to ask more about Wade’s cryptic message, just as she did, but the boy continued instead. “I’ve been taking care of the place whenever Luke’s gone, for oh, six, seven years. My dad helped until he and Luke decided I was old enough to handle it alone.” Kyle looked proud of himself. “Dad still takes care of the big things, like AC repairs, bills, that sort of thing.”

“He pays the bills?” JP asked.

“He pays out of an account Luke set up.”

“Your dad home?”

“He and Mom have gone out with some friends,” Kyle replied.

“When will they be back?”

“Late. But they’ll want to meet you. Luke talked about you so much.”

Abby laughed, placing her hand lightly on JP’s arm. “I wonder what he said about you, honey.”

Kyle turned to look at her, an earnest expression on his face. “Oh, he always said Johnny was the best baby brother anybody could have. Made me wish you were my brother. Mine sucks.”

Abby couldn’t help but laugh. “How old is your brother?”

“Twelve.” He turned back to JP. “I’m waiting for him to turn into a person. Luke said he would, eventually. I just had to wait.”

That sounded just like Wade. The Wade she knew.

Before either JP or Kyle could see her, she turned away, but she couldn’t contain the sob she felt bubble up as she rushed down the hall.

…

“She okay?” Kyle asked when Abby was out of earshot.

“Must be that time of the month,” Joe said with that arrogant machismo so typical of a boy trying to be a man.

JP saw red. He was honest enough with himself to realize he had occasionally thought the same thing when faced with a woman’s emotional reactions, but having some snot-nosed kid say it about Abby nearly had him going for the boy’s throat.

With effort, he calmed himself and tried to see past the anger to give a reply that would put this obnoxious kid in his place. “She’s pregnant.”

He didn’t even have time to register anything beyond the idiot’s shamefaced, downcast eyes. “Oh. Sorry, man.”

Yeah, be embarrassed, you ass
.

Then he realized what he’d said, and how easily the words had slipped out. A subconscious desire on his part?
Whoa
.

Damn!
Whatever reactions he was having to Abby, they’d gone way beyond his usual response to a woman—gone all the way to insanity. Procreation was the
last
thing on his mind. R

Speaking of family… He thought about the message Wade had left him.

Rule Number Three: Keep work and home separate
.

But Wade had said to forget it. Which meant…what?

The obvious meaning would be that there was something work-related at home. But not at Wade’s home in Alabama, since Brooks would have found it. Besides, Wade lived by that axiom. He’d never mix the two.

Then again, Abby had found the papers right there in Buck’s stall. In Alabama.
After
Brooks had searched it.

Damn
.

If JP intended to clear himself, he’d better forget his inappropriate reactions to Wade’s widow and start thinking straight. Maybe he
did
need her—to get to the bottom of the puzzle. Was
that
what the message had meant?

“Oh, wow. Congratulations, dude.” Kyle reached out and shook his hand.

JP jerked out of his thoughts, taking a few long seconds to figure out what the kid was talking about.

Oh. Right.
Pregnant
.

Yeah, he was definitely pond scum
, he thought as they shook hands. “Thanks,” he said. “When did you say your dad will be home?”

“After midnight. You could catch him in the morning if you stay the night.”

Night.
Yeah
. Like
that
was going to happen. The thought of a whole night with Abby was enough to send his blood flowing south for hours, despite the burning groove in his side.

“I’ll see what Abby wants to do.”
Besides get the hell away from me
.

“I’ll leave my dad a note so he’ll know to expect you in the morning. You all have a place to stay or will you stay here at the house?”

Wade’s safe house
. Well, it was why he’d come here. To search for something, anything, that would let him prove his innocence. Wade’s message only reinforced what he had to do.

“I think we’ll stay here tonight, don’t you, honey?” Abby said from the hallway.

She’d composed herself and come back out to continue the charade. There was a touch of heightened color on her cheeks. If she knew what he’d blurted out to these boys, she’d probably slap him.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, in an amiable tone.

“See you around maybe. I promised to take my little brother to his ball game in the morning, so I might not be here when you talk to Dad.”

Both kids said good-bye, smiling at Abby, but JP didn’t like the way Joe looked at her.

Get a grip
, he told himself. He was just a kid with no good sense.

“What’s rule three?” she asked as soon as JP closed the front door after them.

He didn’t want to tell her. If he didn’t, she’d go home, she’d never have to know all of it. But she’d come this far, proved she was determined. And she’d trusted him with the key.

He was sure there was something here to find. To do that, he needed her help.

“It’s one of the things Wade often repeated. Don’t have anything about work at home.”

She pushed out a breath. “It wasn’t at our home, so it must be here,” she said after digesting the phrase for a moment. “What are we looking for?”

“Hell if I know.”

She nodded and walked over to the coffee table. “But it’s something you need in order to get away from Brooks. Or something that will allow you to quit running. Which is it?” She paused for an answer, one she probably realized he wasn’t going to give her. She’d already tried once to get it out of him. “Would he have thought I’d find those papers? Or would he have thought you would?”

“Wade didn’t want you mixed up in his work.”

“That’s obvious,” she muttered. “So, why not tell you to look in the stall?” She shook her head. “But you never spoke to him. He called me.” She met his gaze. “Because he couldn’t reach you?”

“Probably. No doubt he’d had those papers stashed in Buck’s stall for years. He probably figured that was as safe a place as any.” And he’d talked about Buck all the time, letting JP know about the horse. Had that been deliberate? Probably.

“That makes sense,” she said thoughtfully. “But you didn’t need the papers to find this house. All you needed were his aliases and a location. You already knew his aliases, and Wade gave me the location to pass on to you.”

He paused a second too long before saying, “What are you driving at?”

“I’m not supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to know about this place. I was just supposed to stay home, be a nice, meek, compliant little wife, and wait for the big, bad spy to come and rescue me from whatever mess my husband might have left me in.”

Yep. That pretty much summed up the whole thing, JP acknowledged silently. That was exactly what Wade had wanted. Only they hadn’t been spies. They’d been something that sweet Abby in her safe, cozy world would never, could never, understand. And that was why Wade had never confided in her.

Before he could think of a suitable response, she continued.

“I don’t
think
so,” she said fiercely. “Not anymore. I waited for you for over a year, patient and compliant. I won’t be that person again. Never again.”

…

Abby hoped the little wobble she’d heard in her own voice wasn’t really there. She
would
be strong and take the initiative.