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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

Tags: #romance

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BOOK: Luke: Armed and Dangerous
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Around the corner at the back of the house, hidden within a closed-in yard, he could
hear the pulsing of the hot tub jets as well as Zack’s and Skylar’s voices. By the
sound of Skylar’s gasps and Zack’s groans, Luke suspected they were more than enjoying
themselves.

Better move on from that.
Private things were private—though to hear Rylie Thorn talk, she wouldn’t have thought
twice about it.

That little hellcat would have pulled up a front-row seat and wouldn’t be the least
embarrassed to admit it.

Luke had never been much for voyeurism, except for once in his teen years, when a
kid could be forgiven for being desperate. With a wry smile, he bent and picked up
a few pebbles from the yard. Then, he eased behind the trees that obscured the room’s
window from sight and looked in.

Covert operations was something he’d done often, although nothing like this... spying
on a woman he was dying to get his hands on, with the intent of grabbing her attention
with a pebble or two.

I’m losing my damned mind. And I don’t spy on women I’m interested in.

All right, except for that time when he was thirteen and he had peeked into Maggie
Jensen’s window while she was dressing. She’d been eighteen and built like a brick
shithouse—one of those figures that gave all teenage boys wet dreams. It’d been the
first time he’d seen a live pair of breasts and a woman’s hair-covered mound. Afterward,
he’d masturbated more than a time or two over the image of her naked, imagining what
she’d feel like.

But now he was an adult, with a raging hard-on for a woman who he couldn’t get off
his mind.

A few tosses. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll go on back home.

He melted into the shadows behind the tree as he peered through the parted curtains.
Good. The window was closed. He raised his hand for the first pebble toss just about
the time he saw Trinity.

She was lying on her back, staring up at the canopy of the bed. The light beside her
bed was on, its stained-glass shade casting rainbow fragments across her face and
the pale blue nightgown she wore.

Luke hesitated, hand at the ready, the pebble feeling warm and solid between his fingers.

That gown had thin little straps that would easily break if he tugged on them, and
he was sure the silky-looking material would feel soft beneath his hands, just like
her skin. The nightgown was hiked up to the top of her thighs, but not quite high
enough for him to see anything more than her shapely legs.

Her thighs were squeezed together tightly, and she squirmed a little, as though trying
to alleviate an ache there. But in the next moment she reached her hands up and pulled
off her nightgown.

Luke dropped his arm back to his side. The pebble—hell, all the pebbles—fell out of
his hands.

The woman had damn perfect breasts with cherry dark nipples just begging for his mouth.

His cock bucked against the denim of his jeans. He knew he should have some moral
battle inside, but the reaction was too strong, too deep. This woman, oh, yeah, she
was his. He had claimed her at Nevaeh’s, and he was claiming her again, right there
under her sister’s tree.

He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and released his aching erection. With
slow familiar strokes he moved his hand up and down the length of his cock as he watched
Trinity shimmy out of her thong before she cupped her breasts and squeezed her nipples.

“That’s it, sugar,” he murmured as she slipped one hand down and then she spread her
legs wide as though welcoming him between her thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly as he worked his cock. “Can’t wait to get to know
you better.”

Trinity’s fingers slipped between her folds and she began rubbing herself in a slow,
circular motion. With her free hand she pushed up one of her generous breasts and
flicked her tongue against her own nipple.

Damn but that turned him on. He’d never watched a woman licking and sucking her own
nipples, and the sight was fucking arousing.

Her fingers grew more frantic and his strokes more intense.

When she came, she threw back her head, and she bit her lip as though to keep from
crying out. Her body trembled and vibrated, and she kept rubbing herself until she
came a second time.

As her body relaxed, a dreamy expression covered her face, and he only hoped she’d
been imagining that he was the one making her so happy. She raised her fingers to
her nose as though to smell her juices, and that was enough to make Luke’s climax
hit him in a rush.

He bit the inside of his cheek as it took him, and went on, and went on a little longer.
Damn that had felt good. But the real thing was going to feel a whole lot better.

Luke fixed his belt and jeans, as he forced himself to turn away. For a moment, he
stood there, wondering what the hell he’d just done. He’d had no intentions of spying
on Trinity MacKenna and had ended up masturbating while he watched her do the same.

Fuck.

He was losing his goddamned mind.

Over one beautiful woman.

Luke slipped away from the house and faded into the night.

Chapter 12

Trinity couldn’t remember being so hungry in years.

How could breaking up with the perfect boyfriend and having wild sweaty dreams about
a cowboy—a cowboy, for God’s sake— get her stomach growling this loudly?

Skylar rattled her omelet pan on the stove, and the sizzle of onions filled the air.
The whole kitchen smelled like them, and eggs and peppers and rich, melting cheese,
and bacon—
oh, man.
Skylar flipped two omelets onto her plate, walked to the table, and plopped down across
from Trinity, right next to Zack. With a grin, she slid her second omelet onto Trinity’s
plate, and Trinity’s stomach growled again.

Damn it, midnight breakups and all the hunger in the world didn’t change the fact
that Trinity didn’t do cowboys. She never had, never planned to—because cowboys tied
women to places like Douglas. She wasn’t about to make that mistake.

She glanced across the breakfast table and caught another glimpse of the pictures
her new brother-in-law had been studying.

He’d been hard at work since she started stuffing down the first excellent omelet
Skylar had cooked for her.

Trinity made herself swallow a delicious bite of fresh, hot cheesy eggs before asking,
“Are those pictures of footprints?”

“Yeah.” Zack acted as if he wanted to slide the pictures back into the folder he was
guarding with his elbow, and Trinity realized the photos had to be related to some
investigation. Interesting. Zack worked for Immigration and Customs Enforcement and
Skylar had told Trinity the border and drug smuggling issues in Douglas had heated
up so badly that lots of agencies were working together now.

Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms—ATF—for one, along with DEA, ICE, CBP, and the local
sheriff and police forces. Just about everybody had joined the fight. The violence
and risk scared Trinity a little, but she found the science of it fascinating.

“Sorry, Sky.” Zack gave Skylar a guilty look.

Skylar ate a bite from a strip of bacon and shrugged. “Just don’t drag out the blood
and gore shots, okay? I want to enjoy my breakfast for once.”

Trinity craned her neck to see the photos, which appeared to be multiple shots of
human footprints, set in dirt or sand. Some dark stuff had been splashed all around
the prints—
oh.
Trinity swallowed a little harder this time. That was probably the blood Skylar didn’t
want to see.

Trinity put her fork down and focused all her attention on Zack. “Does your office
use footprint analysis?”

Zack’s brows pulled together above his gray eyes. “For individual prints? Of course.”

“I mean for the overall pattern of all the tracks.” Trinity couldn’t help herself.
She picked up her fork and started eating again, barely getting her bite swallowed
before she continued talking. “You know, to figure out who came and went first and
second and third, and likely points of origin—that sort of thing.”

Zack put his fork down. “Whether or not we can do it by sight depends on how clear
and how fresh the trail is when we find it.”

“I mean afterward, from photographs.” Trinity glanced from Zack to Skylar, who took
another huge bite of omelet and didn’t seem to mind them talking about Zack’s work.
“It’s similar to some of the gaming software for one of the products I supervised,”
Trinity said. “The designer used a trail analysis algorithm to help spaceships target
off-screen enemies who were shooting at them.”

Zack studied her. “Go on.”

Trinity chewed up another bite of bacon and swallowed, wishing Skylar had fried another
pound. “If you leave me a copy of that photo, of all the photos showing footprints—and
show me due north on the crime scene, I might be able to give you some information.”

Zack put a hand on his folder full of photos. “Like...”

“Like which set of prints arrived first, which set left the scene first—which direction
they took, and maybe even which direction they came from.” Trinity dug into the last
of her second omelet. “If that would help.”

Zack gave Skylar a mock frown. “You didn’t tell me she grew up and got useful.”

“Don’t give her any pictures with body parts, damn it.” Skylar pointed her fork at
Zack’s nose. “I don’t want her having nightmares and leaving. I don’t want her leaving
at all.”

Trinity’s stomach gave a big lurch, and it was all she could do to keep a smile stapled
across her face.

I don’t want her leaving...

Skylar’s words bounced through Trinity’s mind, driving away the scents and flavors
from the wonderful breakfast.

Okay, so, she’d known her sister wanted her around, wanted her to visit, even wanted
her to stay, but hearing it out loud like this, here, now, as they all sat around
the breakfast table eating eggs and bacon like a real family—
ouch.

Skylar wants me here.

Trinity tried to make herself take her last bite as Zack riffled through his folder
and picked out photos, but she couldn’t lift the fork to her mouth.

Skylar wants us like this—a family again.

Talk about insta-guilt.

Or were all the knots in her stomach really fear, instead?

What am I afraid of?

That I want to stay in Douglas?

Get real.

She had a job. A future that had nothing to do with Meaty MacKenna or any of her old
pains. She had a life, a boyfriend, a—

Oh. Wait.

The reality that she broke it off with Race last night came slamming home, and for
a few moments, Trinity felt completely cut loose from reality. She felt like old Trinity.

Madeline...

Stop it.

“These ought to be a good start.” Zack slid four photos of footprints across the table.

From a thousand miles back in her own mind, Trinity noted that the bloodstained prints
had been decorated with dozens of tiny evidence markers. The markers gave millimeters
and centimeters, indicating depth and distance from each other.

“Are you okay, honey?” Skylar’s warm, loving voice jerked Trinity back from the strange,
distant place she’d gone.

“Fine.” Trinity gathered up the photos, trying not to let her hands shake. “Just thinking
about what I need to do with the software to prove I did grow up and get useful.”

“Silly.” Skylar went back to her omelet as Trinity slid out of her chair. “You’ve
always been a lot more than just useful, especially to me. You’re my only sister,
and the best one in the world.”

Trinity managed a smile, then picked up the photos and left the kitchen before she
could freak out again. She made it around the corner and leaned against the wall,
closing her eyes to settle herself for a second.

Skylar and Zack had started talking to each other, voices low and loving, sounding
oddly right in the stillness of the ranch house.

This had become a happy place, a healthy place. A place Trinity could get used to,
for sure, but she knew she couldn’t have it both ways. She had to choose between staying
away from Douglas except for visits and keeping her new, confident healthy self—or
coming back to this town and house and life, and maybe drowning in her old, scared,
helpless self.

Trinity opened her eyes, her mind sharper now. As much as Skylar meant to her, that
choice wasn’t really a choice at all. Trinity needed to get Zack’s photos taken care
of, then get hold of Drop- Caps to finalize their arrangements, stay the hell away
from dangerously sexy cowboys—and get the hell out of Douglas.

Chapter 13

The helicopter swept low, stirring a shitload of dust across the dilapidated piece
of border fencing between Bull Fenning’s ranch and the edge of Gina Garcia’s property.

Luke shifted his position to get a better look at the images on Noah Ralston’s radar
screen as they covered more territory. Ralston guided the helicopter on another sweep,
as close to the ground as he dared.

Ralston shook his head, and Luke gave the pilot a signal to pull off and make another
pass to the south, fully over the eastern edge of the K & K. They were still well
out of visual range from the main house, though.

“The radar’s only good to about forty feet.” Ralston sat back from the wavy lines
and colors on his screen. “If the tunnels are deeper than that, we’ll never see them.”

Luke nodded. Even the older version of ground-penetrating radar, which still had to
be mounted on the bottom of military vehicles or towed in a cart, gave a lot of false
positives. This new version that could be focused from low-flying helicopters helped
with searching more territory. Problem was that the depth was shallow at best, and
about half the signals they investigated turned out to be nothing, or naturally occurring
pockets in the earth. Microgravity sensors would be a hell of a lot more effective
in tunnel detection—but thousands of times more expensive, too.

BOOK: Luke: Armed and Dangerous
6.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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