Bullets & Bonfires
The deafening roar of an engine makes me sit up. Lucky me. Maybe I’ll write a fourth ticket before sunset.
When I realize the noise belongs to Marcel’s Harley, I push open my door and step out.
He shuts the bike down and swaggers over. Running his gaze over my car and radar gun, his mouth quirks. “You ever feel like a douche sitting here waiting for speeding citizens to write up?” he asks.
The answer is actually yes, but I’m not going to admit that to him. “Are you here for a reason?”
He drops the attitude. “Just left Bree’s place.”
“Everything okay?”
“She figured it out within five seconds, you know.”
“Great,” I mutter, surprised I haven’t received a pissed-off text from her.
“Thanks for warning me about the guard dog.”
I snort, realizing it never occurred to me. “We just got her last night. Did she try to eat you?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
He rolls his eyes. “No. She’s good, though. Real protective of Bree already.”
“Good.”
“One thing did happen.” He slips his hand inside his leather vest and pulls out a scrap of paper. “This car drove by while we were talking outside. Seemed to pay a lot of attention to the house.”
“She recognize it?”
“No. I took her for a short ride to see if it belonged somewhere in the neighborhood—”
“Wait. You did what?”
“Relax. It’s not like I tucked her in and read her a bedtime story. Don’t worry, I saved that for you,” he answers in the cockiest way possible.
“How do you not get punched in the mouth on a regular basis?”
His eyes widen and he touches his chest. “Most people think I’m charming.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Can I finish?” he asks.
When I don’t object, he continues. “The car was on the street again when we came back. I’m almost positive it was the same vehicle.” He hands over the scrap of paper. “It’s probably nothing, but figured you’d want to run the plate.”
I’m impressed by his quick thinking, but keep that thought to myself because I doubt he cares one way or another about my opinion. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He hesitates for a second. “The car seemed to freak her out. I’d go back, but I need to be somewhere tonight.”
No doubt a drug deal or something else I’d rather not know about.
“That’s okay. I’m going to ask one of the guys in that zone to check it out.”
“Good.” He throws his leg over his bike. “If you need anything else, let me know. Bree has my number.” He’s smirking by the last word and I barely resist the urge to flip him off.
Before I have a chance to respond, he twists the throttle and takes off.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The text from Bree I’d been waiting for comes a few minutes after Marcel leaves.
Interesting choice for a babysitter.
In spite of the situation, I laugh.
Figured Keegan or Sully would be too obvious.
When she doesn’t respond, I take a second to call her.
“You mad at me?” I ask as soon as she answers.
Her sigh and a hint of laughter come through the phone. “No. I should be, but I know you’re just worried.”
“He behave himself?”
She snorts. “Yes. Kimber pulled a Cujo act at first—”
“Good dog.”
Her laughter makes me smile and she continues as if I hadn’t interrupted. “But then she warmed up to him. Even let him rub her belly.”
“Hmm. No more cookies for her.”
More laughter and I take it as a good sign. She doesn’t bring up the car that drove by and that’s encouraging too. I’d hate it if she was home alone freaking out.
It was probably nothing. A tourist whose GPS took them the wrong way. Happens all the time.
Even so, the fact that it went by twice unnerves me.
“I’ll be home late. You don’t have to wait up for me.” Home. Right. I wish it were our home. That we weren’t just playing house.
Her voice turns serious. “Be careful, Liam.”
“Always.”
The red car turns out to be a rental and I can’t obtain much more information without turning it into an official inquiry. I place a call to Brady, a fellow deputy and friend. I trust him and feel comfortable asking him to check out Vince’s neighborhood. I even give him the vehicle information.
It’s probably nothing, but just to be sure.
I receive a call to assist with a D.W.I. and after that my night is full of taking statements and filing reports.
It’s much later than I planned when I finally pull into the driveway. Brady’s sitting across the street and I jog over. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “You seemed worried and it’s been a quiet night in my area.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Heard you had some excitement.”
I fill him in on the details of the drunk who shot his own toes off, then tried to drive himself to the hospital.
“You always have all the fun,” Brady jokes.
“Yeah, real riot.”
We say goodnight and I watch him drive off before heading toward the house.
Lights flicker behind the curtains.
Bree’s still up.
Waiting for me?
Shit, I missed her tonight. Worried about her. Can’t wait to see her.
As much as I try to handle myself around her, it’s becoming impossible.
That she might have stayed up waiting for me, even though I told her not to bother, causes the corners of my mouth to curve up.
I make sure my heavy boots thud over the porch, so I don’t startle her when I open the door.
It takes a few seconds to make out her small form curled up in a ball at one end of the couch. Burrowed under a pile of blankets. Kimber’s on the floor right next to the couch, her alert gaze trained on the front door.
“It’s just me girl,” I say in a hushed voice in case Bree’s asleep.
“Hey,” Bree calls out, her voice raspy, making my mind wander where it shouldn’t. She aims the remote at the TV, pausing whatever she’s watching. “I’ll get out of your bed.”
If only.
If she were in my bed, I’d never let her leave.
She tosses the blankets back and swings her feet to the floor, stopping to pet Kimber.
“No. Stay.” She raises an eyebrow at the note of desperation in my voice, but fuck, I’ve wanted to see her all damn night. “I won’t be able to go to sleep for a while. Finish your movie,” I say, gesturing at the television.
Kimber’s apparently decided I’m not a threat and puts her head back down.
Sparks of satisfaction light up inside me when Bree eases back against the couch. My eyes are drawn down her long, bare legs, to the thick wooly socks pooled around her ankles. Some sort of loose tank top barely keeps her covered up top.
My gear
lands on the floor with a thud, and she turns her head. Busying myself with unlacing my boots keeps my mind off of speculating about what else she’s wearing. When I’m done, she pushes the blankets aside and pats the couch.
Cautiously, I lower myself next to her. Close enough not to offend, but far enough away that none of our parts touch.
“What are we watching?”
I can barely make out the blue of her eyes when she turns my way, but I definitely catch the teasing smile playing over her lips. “First, how was your day?”
“Long.”
“Nothing exciting happened?”
Her gentle voice lifts the darkness that followed me home. I could get used to this. Floating in her sweetness night after night.
Except she’s leaving at the end of the summer.
And once Vince gets home, there’s no reason for me to stay.
“Nothing exciting until now,” I finally answer.
She twists her mouth in a way that suggests she doesn’t believe me.
“Honestly, this is the best part of my night.”
“That’s sweet, Liam.”
It is sweet. Sappy even. But so damn true. “What are we watching?” I ask her again.
She rattles off a story about the action drama, which centers around two British intelligence officers who alternate between screwing anything that moves and blowing shit up.
“Sounds right up my alley,” I tease.
With deliberate slowness, she inches toward me—as if she’s afraid I’ll deny her. I lift my arm and she eagerly cuddles against my side.
“I missed you today,” she says softly.
“Even with your visitor?”
She tips her head back. “Yes, even with.”
“You mad at me for asking him to stop by?”
“No.” She lays her head back on my chest and my fingers stroke through her soft tangle of hair for a few seconds.
“Missed you too.”
“Do you mean that?” she murmurs.
“Yes, Bree.”
Not sure what else to say, I keep stroking her hair. She tucks her feet up under her until she’s a little package nestled next to me.
“Do you have your phone?”