Книга Straight to the Heart - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Samantha Hunter. Cтраница 3
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Straight to the Heart
Straight to the Heart
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Straight to the Heart

A thudding sound, and then a hard, loud knock had her stepping back in surprise, bumping into the table and knocking over the lamp on the small table by the door, her heart hammering. The lamp didn’t break, and she picked it back up, settling it on the table.

“Joanna?” she heard Callahan’s voice on the other side. “What was that? Are you okay?”

She grimaced, standing and setting her phone on the table before she opened the door to find him standing there, a boxed air conditioner at his feet.

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, peering past.

“Fine. I just upset the lamp on my way to the door,” she said, her pulse calming somewhat as she looked back down at the AC unit.

“Here’s the air conditioner. I can get it installed in just a few minutes. Where do you want it?”

Joanna watched appreciatively as he bent to pick up the appliance, which wasn’t small. She enjoyed watching the strong play of muscles in his shoulders and back as he did so.

Swallowing hard, she hoped her warm cheeks didn’t give her away as he met her eyes again.

“So, where do you want it?”

“I’m fine, actually. The place is great with all the windows open.”

He shook his head doubtfully. “Supposed to get up over one hundred again tomorrow.”

“You didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”

She was screwing this up, she knew, and chastised herself for arguing with him. Any form of connection she could forge with Callahan would help her do her job, so why was she rebuffing him? Something about him just made her … itchy.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, shrugging muscular shoulders as if the air conditioner didn’t weigh a thing.

He turned away, and she closed her eyes, blowing out a breath and sucking up her natural self-reliance. Joanna Wyatt, the U.S. Marshal, didn’t need a guy to take care of her or worry about her, but Joanna Wallace, the waitress without a penny to her name, would not refuse this kindness. And it was hot in the apartment, even with the windows open.

“Wait,” she said, stepping out onto the small, square landing in front of the door and putting a hand on his back to stop his progress.

They both stilled, and she paused a moment before taking her hand away. He turned, his eyes seeming a little darker, a little hotter.

“Yes?”

“Listen, thanks. It would probably make nights more comfortable. I just didn’t want you doing me any special favors.”

“It’s just an air-conditioner.”

She nodded. Callahan was a stand-up guy. A nice guy.

She was being ridiculous. This was about her and her hormones, not about him.

“Uh, this is getting heavy,” he said, interrupting her train of thought. “I thought the bedroom might be the best idea?”

Her heart rate skyrocketed. “What?”

“It will keep it cool at night. For sleeping,” he said, not seeming to notice her reaction.

“Oh, right, that makes sense,” she agreed, stepping back into the apartment and holding the door open for him.

“Bedroom it is,” he said, and walked past her and then back to the bedroom.

Holding her breath and praying he would leave before she gave in to her baser instincts, she followed him into the small bedroom, ignoring every warning bell that was ringing in her head.

Joanna turned out of the room and went back to the kitchen, pacing, as she listened to Callahan in her bedroom wrestling the air conditioner into the small window. When she heard profuse cursing, she gave in and went to see if she could help. Surely she was not so pathetic as not to be able to stand in a room with the man, was she?

“Everything okay?” she asked from the doorway. “Do you need help?” Was that her voice sounding a pitch higher and slightly breathless?

“As much as it dents my masculine ego to admit it, I could use a hand with this window,” he said with a short laugh. “The sash cord seems to be broken, and I nearly got my hand caught in there on the last try,” he said. He was squatting on the floor in the small space between the bed and the window, wearing a chagrined smile.

She nodded, crawling over the bed, the only way to get to the other side of the air conditioner without crawling over him.

She wasn’t trying to be enticing, but as she crawled on all fours over the fresh linens that Lisa had brought up, she saw a muscle tick in his jaw as he watched her.

It made her want to lick the spot.

He might let her, too. She’d been around enough men to sense that particular sort of tension in their bodies, that look that said they wanted to get naked as soon as possible.

She was here in a small, overly warm bedroom with a sexy hunk of a guy who she was pretty sure could make her sleep well tonight. Or not sleep at all.

A noise from below, the strong strum of a guitar chord made her jump, and she looked up, seeing him smile.

“Forgot the band was warming up.”

“They any good?” she asked, making small talk as she swung her legs over and squatted down on the opposite side of the AC unit, pinched between the wall and the bed’s frame.

“They’re good. One of the more popular bands around here. Helps the draw on Thursdays,” he said, and her hand brushed his forearm as they wrangled the unit into position.

The idea of being wrapped in Callahan’s powerful arms, keeping her warm all night long, flooded her mind. She had sexual fantasies about guys—who didn’t? But she never thought about them holding her through the night as she slept. She’d never been one for romance novels or lovey-dovey fantasizing. Still, tripping over her thirtieth year a few months before, and thinking about that bullet drifting an inch in the other direction made her wonder about what she might have been missing in her life. Spending time with her brother and Lacey had only driven that home for her, but at the end of the day, Joanna was the job. She loved it, and she didn’t know anything else. She certainly wouldn’t give it all up for a man.

Ben seemed absolutely clueless about her inner conflict as he managed to line up the unit with the window frame once more.

“If you can hold the window up while I get this positioned, that would be great,” he directed, distracting her yet again with how the T-shirt he wore clung to his skin in the hot room.

“Sure,” she said casually and pushed the window up, holding it higher than necessary so that he had room to maneuver.

Within a few minutes, he had the air conditioner fitted tightly into the window, and it was ready to go. As Joanna let the window down, he leaned over to plug it in, and then set it so that cool air immediately started pulsing out of the appliance.

It felt great, Joanna had to admit, and pushed her hair back from where it clung to her cheek. When she looked down, she caught him staring up from the floor, his attention clearly caught by the way her nipples were at full attention from the cold air blasting on her.

He turned away, fussing with something.

“It’s a small room. Probably can set this on low,” he said, more to himself than to her, and Joanna murmured something just as unintelligible.

She wasn’t even aware of what she said, more to herself than to him; she’d rarely felt chemistry like this, not this fast anyway.

Thinking he was going to turn around to walk out, she moved in that direction as well, but he leaned down to get some packing plastic that had dropped on the floor.

Legs tangled, arms flailed, and a second later, Joanna was sprawled on the firm mattress with Callahan spread over the top of her.

The cool air from the AC on her bare feet made her shiver—or was that the heat from the heavy length of his body that was burning into hers?

“Um,” she said, licking her lips and looking up at him. He didn’t move. She didn’t ask him to.

He felt good. Heavy, masculine and hard. She had to force herself not to widen her thighs and arch against him. It was almost embarrassing.

Except that he seemed to be having the same trouble—more so because he couldn’t hide his reaction, his heavy shaft pressing into the crux of her thighs.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his breath sounding short.

“Don’t do what?”

“Lick your lips like that.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. She couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t moved yet.

“I should probably get up,” he said, his breath warm on her cheek.

“Yeah.”

“But I really don’t want to,” he admitted, and she might have imagined it, but it seemed that he pressed himself against her thigh ever so slightly.

Heat streamed through her, making her wet and all too close to the edge. All he’d have to do is edge one of those thighs down in between—or any part he wanted—and she’d be gone.

Resisting temptation never had been one of her strong suits.

He dipped in suddenly, fusing his lips to hers, diving his fingers into her hair and wiping her mind clean of anything but him.

The surprise of it shook her, and Joanna opened underneath him, her lips parting, her thighs opening, her arms sliding around his massive torso as she gave herself over.

For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to be truly carried away by the moment. By a kiss. By a man.

“This is better than I even imagined,” he whispered into her ear, taking a break to catch a breath, and drawing the tip of his tongue along the lobe.

Joanna had to bite her lip hard to stop from moaning in pleasure at the contact.

“So you’ve been fantasizing about me, huh?” she said, trying to reach for something light, something to ward off the intensity that had exploded between them.

“From the second I saw you,” he admitted, much to her surprise, as he drew back and looked straight down into her face. She could tell by his eyes that he wasn’t lying.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. She wanted him to kiss her again almost more than she wanted to breathe, and that scared the daylights out of her. As much as she enjoyed sex, usually men wanted her more than she wanted them.

“Maybe we should get up now,” she said, trying to control her voice and her breathing as something close to panic set in.

She didn’t know why; she wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid of him. But at the same time as her body was screaming for him, her mind was sending out red alerts.

“Are you sure?” he asked, not moving.

His hand slid up the side of her rib cage, his thumb moving lightly over a nipple, making her suck in a breath and arch, even though she tried to stop her reaction.

“You’re my boss,” she said, unsure what relevance that would have, but apparently she’d hit the right key.

He stilled, pressed up tight against her, staring down.

“I would never use that. Not in this way,” he said seriously, his hand dropping to the side of her. “Not at all. In fact, I’ve never slept with anyone I worked with, though I have to admit, none of the people I worked with were as hot as you.”

“I—I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t … seem like the type to coerce someone into sleeping with you. It’s just that … it can make things complicated.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Is there someone else? Are you worried about your ex?”

“No to both,” she said, knowing that she was just opening the door she really should be closing.

“Good,” he said, looking down at her intently. “I’m fine with being your in-between. Your rebound guy,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her throat in a way that made her melt again. “We could have some fun,” he promised. “No strings attached. At work, it’s just work. No pressure.”

So, so tempting.

Joanna wasn’t sure she wanted to say no. What was the harm, after all?

Then he lifted away from her, and the heat of his body was replaced with the blasting air of the AC hitting her directly.

Callahan stood by the side of the bed, extended a hand. She ignored it, and rolled to standing, fixing her clothes. She didn’t catch herself in time to prevent a wince as she rolled over her still sore shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Your shoulder, you hurt it.”

Thank goodness the T-shirt she wore hid the scar from the bullet wound. She covered it up with makeup when she wore anything revealing, but she knew he’d recognize it for what it was. Thank God he hadn’t managed to get her shirt off. She kicked herself for forgetting, but it was a good reminder of why this couldn’t happen.

“I tweaked it carrying a heavy load of dishes, that’s all.”

“You could let one of us get the really heavy trays.”

“Sure. I will next time,” she said cooperatively, which made him narrow his eyes.

“I think it’s not a good idea. You know, us, hooking up,” she added.

Looking him in the eye, it took no small amount of discipline not to let her gaze slip lower.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

They stood there, facing each other until she turned and walked out of the room. He followed, not saying a word. In the front room, comforted by the brighter light from the lamp, she wrapped her arms around herself, still warm and aroused, trying not to focus on how amazing he looked.

He smiled a little, killing her, and walked to the door. “Let me know if everything is okay with the AC, and, you know … if you change your mind.”

She smiled, nodding, and didn’t dare say a word in case she asked him not to go. When he was gone, she fell back into the chair and thought the next few weeks might not be quite as easy as she thought.

3

BEN KNEW THAT JOANNA WAS RIGHT. It probably wasn’t a good idea for them to get together, but after having her under him, he was only interested in getting her naked and in bed. He was pretty sure smart had nothing to do with it. He was also sure she wanted him just as much, and while they could back off for a while, if she stayed on here, it was going to happen.

He checked in on the band as they were doing their sound checks and visited with a few people across the room, the crowd thickening as the hour passed. Business would be good tonight.

Louis, the extra weekend bartender, was on drinks and Ben wondered where Charlie was. Heading back to the kitchen, Ben walked over to the huge pot on the stove where Charlie’s secret-recipe chili was bubbling away. Large pans of corn bread were cooling on the massive wooden block that dominated the center of the cooking space. That would be the only item on the menu tonight. Thursday through Saturday were specials-only nights. Most of the crowd was there for drinking and dancing, anyway.

Ben had no idea what his friend did to that chili, and Charlie wouldn’t tell anyone, but it was the best Ben had ever had in his life. It would be gone before the night was over, and Ben made a mental note to make sure he snagged a bowl or two before he went back to the house.

Charlie and Lisa would handle the night shift, giving Ben the evening off. Tonight, though, he was antsy, and he would rather have stayed busy.

He moved toward his office, the idea of balancing books was probably the only thing that could calm his desire after leaving Joanna. On the way, he heard some curious noises and stilled, listening closer.

After a moment, he realized he was hearing lusty sounds of sex that were quite identifiable and coming from the employee lounge. A female voice cried out, obviously too excited to keep mute, quickly followed by chuckling and whispers.

Charlie and Lisa, he realized, with no small bit of shock. Obviously thinking they were alone and taking a quick break out back.

Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Or, rather, he was fine—glad even—about his friends getting together, but break-room sex was a little … brazen. Not to mention breaking several health codes, he thought with a smile.

Maybe he was just jealous since he and Joanna hadn’t managed to close the deal. He’d happily break a few health codes with her. Taking a breath, he decided to bypass his office and head straight back out to the house. He didn’t want Charlie and Lisa knowing anyone had heard them. If they hadn’t said anything, it was because they wanted to keep whatever they were doing a secret. That was their business.

Needing to work off some steam, he ran upstairs in the two-story cabin and grabbed his shorts and running shoes.

He didn’t bother warming up but hit the side of the long road heading away from the Lucky Break running full-out. His body welcomed the punishment, and he pushed it harder in the second mile, muscles burning, but the nice rhythm that eventually set in calmed some of the agitation from the encounter with Joanna.

Not that any amount of exercise could equal the satisfaction he imagined he could find in her arms, but it would have to be close enough, since he was at an impasse.

Lost in his thoughts, he slowed down in the third mile and cast a glance backward as he noted an SUV behind him, in the distance. No problem. The sun was still up and he was easily visible. Drivers around here were always on the lookout for cattle or any wild animals that happened onto the road, especially at dusk.

To be extra safe, however, Ben moved over onto the sandy dirt on the side, keeping his pace as he heard the engine noise grow closer.

Pacing his breathing with his steps, he ignored the tingling at the base of his neck at first, something he’d always counted on as a SEAL as a sure sign that there was a problem.

The car had slowed down. Two people in the car. It hung back slightly. He slowed, and then heard the engine gun.

“Let’s see what’s going on,” Ben said to himself and turned right, heading off into the desert landscape, running toward a dune that would be too steep even for a vehicle outfitted for sand, which this one wasn’t.

He picked up the pace, closing the half mile to the dune, and sure enough, looked behind to see the SUV speed up, leaving the road and taking chase.

Ben knew every feature of the local landscape like the back of his hand, and as the sun started to lower on the horizon, shadows stretched over the ground and he hoped that would give him an advantage.

The SUV had four-wheel drive, and while it wasn’t doing as well negotiating around rocks and brush as Ben was, it was closing the distance between them too quickly. Ben headed up the sand hill and ignored the burning in his calves that told him he wasn’t working out as hard as he should be. He made a mental promise to start getting off the road and running across the mountains daily. Civilian life was no reason to become soft.

He made it to the top as the sun was dipping down under the horizon. With the advantage of cover and higher ground, he saw the SUV plow into the base of the dune, unable to follow.

“Now you’ll have to get out on foot, idiots,” he muttered, ducking down behind a fallen tree trunk to wait.

There were numerous other things to worry about in the desert as night fell, but for the moment, the two men who slammed the car doors shut and started up the dune were his biggest concern.

He could slide down the other side, circle around and get the car, leave them stranded. But he wanted to know who they were, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be back.

Watching one guy silently tell the other guy to split directions, Ben smiled to himself. Individually, he could take them both pretty easily.

Staying low, he went for the bigger one first. If he had the drop on that guy, it wouldn’t be hard to convince the other to give up.

They weren’t even wearing boots, he observed, watching one stop to dump sand out of what was probably an expensive dress shoe.

Doubling back over the top of the dune, Ben walked nearly silently, until he was standing behind the big man, who had his gun drawn. Ben poked him on the shoulder, and the guy jumped, surprised.

The gun went off, and Ben wasted no time grabbing the guy’s firing arm—controlling the hand that held the gun was always the first priority—and followed up with a hard left-cross that threw the guy backwards down the hill. His gun flew out of his hands as he tumbled down to the bottom, where he lay motionless.

Ben slid down the sandy face of the red sand dune feet-first, focused on his prey, not noticing the pain and abrasions his arms and legs were sustaining on the way down.

Grabbing the unconscious man, Ben confirmed that he was still living and grabbed his wallet, checking for what was inside: the ID was clearly fake, and Ben threw it back to the dirt. The car was a rental, though he noted the plate and rental company.

Moments later, he heard the labored breathing of the other guy approaching from the opposite side of the truck. Ben wasn’t the only one who needed to get in better shape, apparently.

The other assailant came around the back of the car. Ben slammed him hard, his gun going off before he dropped it and Ben got an arm lock on his throat.

“Who are you?” Ben demanded.

“Did you kill him?” the guy asked, sounding young and staring at the first guy, who was still out cold.

Ben didn’t respond, letting the guy’s fear work for him, squeezing a little tighter. One good twist and he would snap the man’s neck, though he had no intention of doing that. His prey didn’t know that, however.

The guy tried to fight, unsuccessfully, wheezing out a breath as Ben tightened his grip.

“Who. Are. You? And who sent you?” Ben asked again.

“Don’t know,” the guy huffed out. “We—we were hired anonymously, through contacts, you know? They gave us a picture, a location, said make it look like an accident. That’s all I know.”

Ben was inclined to believe him. The thug was young and had cracked too quickly under pressure.

“You need to find a better line of work, kid, before you end up dying young,” Ben said. “Get your buddy, leave, don’t come back, or you won’t get a second chance. Got it? You can pass that on to whoever hired you, too.”

Ben released his grip and slid backwards quickly in a move he knew would make it seem as if he had melted into the dark.

Ignoring the road, he took a long diagonal across the scrub desert back toward his house.

When he heard the car start behind him in the distance, the engine noise roaring off in the opposite direction, he relaxed and finished the walk, suddenly aware of his scraped, abraded skin.

Finally reaching his house, he walked in the back door and closed it, gulped a couple of glasses of water and took in the scrapes and bruises he’d acquired. Nothing too serious, though he had some of the other guy’s blood on his favorite running shirt. Must have hit him harder than he thought.

As he headed to the shower, he was stopped by a knock on the door, and he paused. Music was now blasting from the roadhouse, and he wondered if the two men in the desert had followed him. Sometimes customers, having drunk too much, wandered back to his house, thinking they could use the bathroom or whatever, and he had to send them back to the bar. Peering through the curtain at the edge of the room, he was surprised to see it was Joanna, his tension dissolving.

When he opened the door, she opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, her eyes widening as she took him in.

“What happened to you?”

“Went for a run in the desert, took a misstep. What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside so that she could come in.

“I was just going to ask if you minded me adding on another shift. Charlie and Lisa can barely keep up in there, and he called me down, but I thought I should check with you first,” she said, still taking in his appearance.

Tight black jeans and a black T-shirt hugged her shape, and he took in every inch, almost forgetting the events of the past hour. The silver and turquoise earrings she wore gave her an earthy, exotic look that made him want to pull her in and close the door, but instead he nodded.

“Yeah, definitely. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll be over to help as well. Usually three is enough for Thursdays, but I should have figured it would be busier with these guys playing,” he said.