Rival Forces (16 page)

Yardley bit her lip, winced. “What happened?”

“She was pretty far along by the time I got home. Two weeks after I returned stateside, the boyfriend calls, tells her he wants her and the baby. That's when she confesses the truth to me. Baby's not mine. It was Christmas Day.” He looked back at her. “That's when I finally felt some emotion.”

Crap.
He'd been really hurt. She could see the lingering effects of it now in the tautness of his mouth and the tightness around the eyes. “I'm sorry, Kye.”

He shrugged. “The hardest part was dealing with everybody else. She left the island with Baby Daddy without a word to anyone. Not even her family. Everybody'd bought us all this baby stuff for Christmas, in preparation. I gave it all back. I haven't been back to Hawaii at Christmas since.”

Yardley didn't know what to say to that. He was sharing his most intimate pain but she wasn't ready to share David. It wouldn't change anything, for either of them. She changed the subject. “I heard you tell the sheriff you served with Law in Afghanistan. Is that where you met my brother?”

Kye nodded but his eyes hadn't lost that old-wound pain. “I was there the day he was wounded. Haven't seen him since. He's rejected my calls and messages for the past four years.”

“But he sent you here. Why would he do that?”

Kye looked like he wasn't going to answer. “Law said I was the only one he trusted.”

“Why?”

“He knows I'll take care of business.” He made full eye contact. “After they were attacked, I'm the one who had to shoot Law's K-9, Scud.”

Stunned, Yardley tried to digest that, in all its implications. The death of Law's military police K-9 had figured greatly into her brother's PTSD issues. “Law said Scud was wounded, too, and went a little mad trying to protect him from even his squad members.”

He nodded slowly. “Tried to bite the medics who needed to get to Law before he bled out.” There were a lot of emotions vying for dominance in Kye's expression. “It was Scud's life or Law's.”

The gruff pain in his voice raked up her spine. He wasn't cutting himself any slack for that decision, even after all this time.

She touched his crossed arms with the gentlest of touches. “It was a fucked-up situation, Kye. No good options. You did what you had to do to save my brother's life. Thank you.”

His gaze shifted to her hand where her thumb instinctively brushed along his forearm in comforting strokes. Then it rose to her face. “You Battises try to have the world your way. Even your friendships occupy little compartments in your minds that you open and close when it suits you. It makes it hard for those of us who care about you.”

Those of us who care about you.

The words echoed inside her mind. Jori, Law's new lady friend, had said something similar when dealing with Law. An hour ago she would have been happy to hear that hint of caring in Kye's voice. Now it only made her feel worse. There were other considerations. There was David.

She almost reached for the phone in her pocket before she stopped herself. She would have known if there was a message. It would have pinged and vibrated.

She turned and reached for the coffeepot to refill her still mostly full cup. “Don't start rearranging reality, Kye. Law is the reason you're here, or you'd never have come back. It's been twelve years. Where was the interest in me for those twelve years?”

“Hawaiians have a saying.
Aloha mai no, aloha aku.
”

She glanced over at him. “What does that mean?”

He gave her something short of a smile. “Look it up.”

“Right.” Yardley nodded. On autopilot because, suddenly, she wasn't certain any longer about anything.

She couldn't feel for David what she did and make peace with her actions with Kye this morning. That had been too intense, went too deep, had gotten past all her barriers. Even ones David never touched. What a mess.

She'd thought love would make every other man a shadow in her thoughts and feelings. It's what everyone said.
You'll know. Without a doubt. When you're in love.

Maybe she didn't have the capacity to love that way. Perhaps she wasn't able to love the way other people did. Full-on and completely. Perhaps David had felt it, too. And that's why it had taken him so long to reach out again. She'd hurt him. Just as she was about to hurt Kye. But she owed him honesty. She owed him in return for his revelations of his private life.

She turned to face him. “You must know there's someone in my life.”

“Dr. David Gunnar. Law told me.”

Hearing Kye say David's name gave her a jolt. “What else did Law say?”

“I know you guys were hot and heavy for a while. Law mentioned something about a possible wedding.”

“That's never been in the plans.”

“Whatever.” But the edge of his lips curved enough to let her know she'd been played for information. He reached out and touched her again, this time with warm possessive hands on her upper arms that felt wonderful even through her clothing. “He's been gone three months. He has nothing to do with us.”

“He has everything to do with us.” She backstepped but he held her in place without exerting any effort. This wasn't going the right way. By being nice, he was seeing weakness in her. And that panicked her. She needed to be strong.

She tossed back her head. “I was pretending last night. Pretending you were him. That I wasn't alone.” The moment the words were out of her mouth she wanted to take them back.

Instead he pulled her toward him. Until inches separated them. “When you're scared you say things you don't mean, Yard. I don't think you could do what you did last night if you didn't have feelings for me. That wasn't just sex last night. I've had a lot of ‘just sex' in my life. That wasn't it.”

“Maybe.” Her voice sounded suffocated. “But it doesn't matter. I'm not like other people. I don't know how to be in a relationship. My father—”

“Was an abusive asshole.” He paused to let her recover from the shock. “So you—what? You decided you'd hide in relationships with unavailable men so you don't have to commit?”

“How—?”
How could he know that?

But he was looking at her with those golden-brown eyes that saw more than any man had a right to see. His hands held her in a hard grip but his voice turned soft and low. “I know you, Yardley. We didn't know each other long the first time. But we knew each other when our emotions still rode the top of all we said and did. Then somewhere, as the years passed, you got so busy trying to prove yourself that you've lost touch with who you really are. Last night wasn't about this Doctor David guy. It wasn't even really about me. It was about you. What are you afraid of finding out about yourself?”

She tried to twist away. “Stop.”

“Sorry. No. Next argument.”

“If you don't stop I'll sic Oleg on you.”

“No you won't.” He was smiling at her in a strangely tender way. “Besides, he likes me now. I've walked him twice. We bonded. Over poop. So, you know, it's serious.”

He was being nice, and kind and funny. It scared her to death. Losing David hurt. Losing Kye just might kill her.

She jutted out her chin, trying not to notice how it brought her mouth even closer to his. “I will call your tutu.”

“My grandmother?”

“Yes. You said she taught you that to dishonor a woman is to dishonor one's self.”

“You remember that.” His voice had a funny hitch in it. Then the aloha heat of his smile was back. “You like me, Yardley. Maybe I'm not
the
man, but I'm proof that this doctor's not the one, either. He's gone. Move on. Let's see what we could have.”

Reality dropped on her with a thud. “I've heard from Dr. Gunnar. This morning.”

“Nice try. Third ploy.”

She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out her phone. She held it up between them. “This is why I wanted my phone back. Only David has the number. He sent me a message this morning.”

Kye looked at the phone as if it were a grenade. “Show me.”

“Not that you deserve to see it but here.” She punched the buttons to bring up the message.

He squinted at it. “It's a music video.”

She shrugged. “This is how we communicate. We use song titles to plan meetings.”

She saw him shut down. Nothing to see there. And then she remembered, he'd once been military police, in law enforcement like nearly every other man in her life.

When he'd heard thirty seconds of the song he looked at her with a serious expression. “This doesn't say anything. Not where he is. Or what he's been doing. Or even when or if you'll see him again.”

“It tells me he's alive.” She sounded defensive. She felt defensive. “He's okay. And he doesn't want me to worry.”

Kye snorted. “What a guy. After three months of silence you get music from a dickhead. So what? You're going to sit on your hands some more and wait until if and when he condescends to get in touch again?”

“You sound like he ghosted you, instead of me.”

That brought him up short. “He let you stew for months, Yard. You were worried enough to contact the feds. Does your precious doctor know or even care about that? Or is he so wrapped up in his world, whatever it is, that he just fits you in when he can?”

“Don't say things like that. You don't know him.”

“He's no paragon, Yard. I've bailed on women before. I'm not proud of it but I know that when a man doesn't make it his business to stay in touch, it means he's not attached in any serious way. He saw you as a target of opportunity.”

The angrier he got, the calmer she became. “Dr. Gunnar is nothing like you. He's a serious man. He's a professional who doesn't play it safe. Unlike you, who spends his time guarding holiday vacationers from avalanches that never happen. Running around playing ski bum. Probably hitting on girls young enough to be your daughter.” She saw him flinch and kept throwing verbal jabs. “David save lives every day in scary places. He's smart and educated and passionate and committed. He's everything—”

“—but here. He's not here. I am. You're with me.”

He kissed her, hot and deep, not waiting to see if this was what she wanted, but knowing instantly it was what they both needed.

Yardley didn't think of resistance. The heat licking through her was still too strong, the memories of half-light lovemaking too new and fresh to resist the wonder of losing herself in the embrace of his lips.

His kiss was so needful all she could do was hang on and ride. And he took her everywhere, the stroke of his tongue on hers as persuasive as the sexual tension of his body, braced for action but not actually touching hers. She locked her own body into a rigid posture, fighting with everything she had not to give in to the so-easy need to melt into him, fit her body to the harder contours of his. But letting nature take its course would completely derail any self-respect she had left.

Think of David. Think of— Think.

When he lifted his head, Kye looked as hot and confused and needy as she felt. But a whole lot more certain about what exactly he wanted, and how to get it.

He brushed a finger across her mouth. “Your head and heart aren't saying the same things.”

She curled fingers into his hair though she had no idea when she'd snaked her arms about his neck. “You mean my head and my body.”

He shook his head, looking more serious than ever. “Your body, like mine, isn't to be considered trustworthy. It's about your heart. Because when I tune your words out, Yard, what your eyes say isn't even close to the trash talk.”

She slid her arms from his neck. She wasn't going back to bed with him. No matter how much she ached to do so. And she ached.

“You don't know me that well.”

“I'm trying.”

He rubbed a hand down his face. “I know some of what's made you so tough. But surviving has changed you. And not all for the better. You'd make a great drill sergeant. But you know shit-all about being a woman.” He saw the stricken look on her face. And it stunned him. “Look, I didn't mean it like—”

“No. You meant it.” She backed up a step, forcing herself not to bolt. “And that's okay. We're done.” She turned and walked away.

Kye let her go because what he was thinking was insane. What was trembling on his tongue was the admission that he liked her just the way she was. Thought she was the sexiest, most female woman he'd ever set eyes on. Tough made her better. The challenge to get her coal-black eyes to smolder with sexual surrender called to everything male in him. Gave him a rush of primitive satisfaction. He liked her as much as he had the first time.

Hell. If he was being honest with himself, he liked her more now.

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Agent Jackson stared at his breakfast on the desk of his D.C. office. It was a ham sandwich from the night before. It was cold. It was thin. It was—no other word for it—sad. A stingy smear of mustard formed an adhesive that after refrigeration tore the center out of the piece of white bread he lifted to inspect the sandwich's insides. No lettuce. No tomato. No fresh cranberry relish. Worst of all, no crackling bits that made a fresh ham sandwich worth eating.

Jackson's assistant poked his head through his boss's doorway. “Sir, we've had contact with Dr. Gunnar.”

Jackson dropped the sandwich, forgotten before it hit the foil it had come wrapped in. “Where?”

“He called the U.S. marshal's office in Phoenix. They're on line two.”

Jackson wiped his hands and picked up the phone. “Tell me everything.”

“Dr. Gunnar called just after five a.m. local time and identified himself.”