The Call of Bravery

The house was hot tonight. The temperatures had reached the nineties today, truly uncomfortable in the Puget Sound area where the humidity stayed high. She’d opened windows earlier, but there wasn’t enough breeze to stir the air. As she often did at this time of night, she went onto the porch and sat with her back to the newel post, savoring the cooler air.

A soft low sound came from the darkness, an answering whicker from the other direction. Lia wrapped her arms around her knees and wondered where Conall was right now. Usually, she tried not to wonder, given how high the odds were that he was in danger.

Maybe, she thought wryly, what she ought to wonder was who he was right now. If he disappeared undercover for weeks or months, would he have to quit phoning the boys? Probably. She prayed they’d understand.

Sound traveled at night. Was that a car on her gravel road? Of course it wasn’t very late—some people actually enjoyed the nightlife. She stiffened when the car didn’t turn into any of the first driveways. As far as she knew, nobody had moved into the house beyond hers although repairs had been made. Surely nobody would be coming here…

Headlights pierced the night and she instinctively scooted into the shadows of the porch. Her heart drummed. Who could it possibly be?

The car—the moonlight was bright enough for her to see that it was a car—parked in front of the barn.

In Conall’s spot.

She should go inside, lock the door. No, wait and see who it was. Strangely, Lia was dizzy with anticipation although she couldn’t imagine why she thought even for a minute—

A man got out, slammed the door. He seemed to be looking right at her, which meant she wasn’t as hidden as she’d thought. His deep voice was low, but it carried.

“Lia?” Conall said.

* * *

HE’D FELT SICK with apprehension ever since he’d left his SUV in the parking garage at Miami International Airport this afternoon, having chosen a late flight deliberately. He’d had the probably delusional idea that he could show up after the boys were in bed, talk to Lia, and if she rejected him, no one else even needed to know he’d ever been here. He would go straight back to SeaTac, get a hotel room and fly out first thing in the morning.

Now he realized he’d expected her to be sitting out on the porch. It had never occurred to him that he might have to knock and wait to see who came to the door. He’d known, somehow, that he could walk across the yard and there she’d be. What he hadn’t anticipated was that a strange car arriving at this time of night would scare her. Of course it would, given the isolation of her house. That was stupid of him. He spoke her name immediately.

“Conall?” she said disbelievingly.

“Yeah. It’s me.” Oh, damn, what had made him think this was a good idea? Why hadn’t he called her? Asked whether it was okay if he came?

Long strides took him across the yard. She was standing by the time he reached the bottom step. As usual, no porch light, but soft light fell through the open front door and the living room window.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“All day, I thought about you sitting out here.” He had to dislodge a lump in his throat. His voice came out hoarse. “Waiting for me.”

She made a sound, a strange hitch of breath. “I think I was,” she whispered, and he took the steps two at a time.

Conall didn’t know if he reached for her first, or if she flung herself into his arms. All that mattered was that she was there, her face tipped up to his, her lips already parted for his kiss.

He took her mouth voraciously. All that tenderness was inside him, but the hunger was stronger. The hunger, and the fear.

She might still push me away. But she wasn’t, he realized exultantly; she was kissing him, her tongue tangling with his, her arms holding him as tightly as he held her. She gave a small sob when he broke off for air, and to look down at her.

“God, I missed you,” he said huskily, and kissed her again. He wanted to relearn her body, stroke her from butt to nape, throat to belly, but all he seemed able to do was grip her hips and grind them against his pelvis. He was blind and deaf with need, because—yes!—she still wanted him, too.