Maverick Page 18

Maggie grimaced. “I came as close to a cow as I ever want to. On the dirt bike. Dumb animal didn’t care a bit that it scared me into tearing my best pair of jeans.” Jack grinned. “Cows are funny that way,” he agreed. He sliced cheese, dropping it into a pot as he spoke. “You wouldn’t have to get real close to ‘em—unless you wanted to.” He glanced over his shoulder in time to catch the tail-end of her frown. “On the ranch.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m making soup for dinner. Potato cheese. That okay?”

  “Fine.” But it wasn’t. For some reason, the entire conversation—from cows to soup—was unsettling.

  “I’m going to throw in some ham, but I’ll leave the pieces big for you to pull out if you’re still having trouble chewing.” She nodded, more worried about the sudden knot in her stomach than whatever he was doing across the room. figure out what it was. up-close and personal with them. And not the potato cheese soup—that was one of her favorites.

  She watched him continue to work and chewed on her bottom lip. Was she getting sick? Coming down with a virus? “. . .when we get to goin’ stir-crazy up here, I mean.”

  Jack, holding a knife and a hunk of ham, had turned again. He stared at her. “What?” she murmured.

  Jack put down the ham and the knife. He brushed his hands on his jeans as he crossed to her side. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” “You don’t look fine. Slide your feet back under the blanket. There’re clouds kickin’ up to the west. Could be a cold night. And I didn’t say it before, but thank you for telling me—for trusting me.”

  She did as he asked, sliding her legs back under the blanket, but sniffed. “You didn’t leave me much of a choice. I figured if I asked for the warrant, you’d produce one. Being FBI and all—I’m sure you’re very thorough.” She watched his long fingers, still lingering on her blanket.

  Be thorough with me. . .

  Mortified by her wayward thoughts, she rushed on. “That money—in my backpack, it’s mine—it didn’t come from the robbery.” He smiled at her. “You’ve seen too many movies. I know the money’s yours.” Something was setting off alarm bells in her mind, she just couldn’t Not the cows—even though she’d meant what she said about getting “Did you check the serial numbers?”

  “Didn’t have to. It smells like the bar.”

  “Oh.” She kept her eyes on his. “What did you say? Before.”

  “I said I might take you and Melissa down to my folks’ ranch for a visit. You’d both be safe there. And I’ll bet we’re going to go a little stir-crazy up here after a while.” She’d bet stir-crazy might have already started. She couldn’t keep her thoughts off his hands—hands she wanted touching her. . . Concentrate.

  “You’re inviting us to your parents’ ranch?”

  “I thought about it.”

  “Do they know—about me?”

  “I doubt it. But it wouldn’t matter—not if you showed up with me.”

  “Melissa might not be too happy about leaving.”

  Jack chuckled. “Melissa will love the ranch. Pop’s got lots of hired hands. Speaking of which. . .” He pulled out his phone. “You can call Melissa when I’m done. I’ll be quick. 9EX249. Maverick. Give me a background check.” Maggie watched him pull a small notebook out of the back pocket of his jeans. “On a Bill Jefferson. William, I’m assuming, but all I’ve got is Bill.” He read a string of numbers off and waited. “Right. Thanks.” He held out the phone to Maggie.

  She took it, but didn’t dial, watching him. “Maverick, huh? What’s that? Your code name?”

  Jack grinned, leaning forward on the bed to slide his thumb down her nose. “Actually, Maverick is you.” “Me? You named me Maverick?”

  He pressed a kiss onto her surprised forehead. “Yeah. Two years ago. Still fits.” She blushed at the intensity in his eyes and changed the subject. “Who’s Bill Jefferson?”

  “My father asked me to check out one of his new hires. Any RFI’s—Requests for Information--we make have to be assigned to a case.” He sat down next to her. “This one doesn’t have anything to do with you. Maverick.”

  She knew he tacked the name on to watch the color rise in her cheeks again. She fought the reaction, but his ploy worked. Having him so close didn’t help either. “You can do that? Just request information on anybody?” He had one hand on her thigh and another tangled in her hair. She moistened her lips in an invitation she wasn’t sure she wanted him to accept.

  “Yep.” He cleared his throat and got abruptly to his feet. “Getting hungry? Soup should be ready before too long.”

  She watched him add fire to the stove, watched the play of his muscles as he lifted the heavy pot. When he bent over to check the fire, her eyes were on his backside. “We could leave tomorrow, if you want.”

  “Leave for where?” Her mouth was so dry she could barely get the words out. Tearing her enchanted gaze away from his body, she drank a swallow of cold, leftover tea. “The ranch. We’ll get your arm checked out in Grand Junction tomorrow, then drive over to Denver and fly out from there.”

  A tiny something in his voice warned her. Something was wrong. Her heart sped up. “You heard something—Melissa—” “Melissa’s fine, Maggie.”

  “Kevin, then. You heard something about Kevin.”

  Jack stayed by the table but he did turn and face her. “He may have rented a car in Denver.”

  “May have?”

  “They’re checking to be sure.” He gestured to the forgotten phone in her hand. “Call your sister. I promised her.”

  Chapter 11

  Dinner was ready by the time she got off the phone with Melissa. She heard how much Derek missed her, how much Sally missed her and even how much Melissa missed her. She smiled, relating the conversation to Jack over the rich, warm soup. “Melissanever misses me unless she’s bored.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “Life with Derek not as exciting as with Clint?” “New Castle’s not Chicago. Melissa loves the city.”

  “How about you?”

  The swift turn in the conversation left her feeling like she was in a car headed over Red Mountain pass. Sharp turns and narrow shoulders were not what she was in the mood for. Unfortunately, like a helpless passenger, she didn’t know how to stop it. “I like having a home,” she whispered. “After you catch Kevin and Paul and I testify, then maybe I can.”

  The sympathy in his eyes tore at her heart. Any second now she would cry. “Won’t be long, darlin’. I’ll get that call any time. They’re not smart enough to stay out of sight for long. Look how fast we got a lead on Kevin.”

  That was true. “They aren’t the brightest bulbs in the lamp.”

  “Did you tell Melissa to pack?”

  Maggie tried for a nonchalant shrug. “I forgot. I can always call her in the morning, right?”

  “Sure.”

  But it wasn’t. She could feel his gaze on her, saw his hand slide across the table to cover hers. Even knowing it was coming, she jumped at his touch. “What is it, Maggie? You’ve been jumpy since you woke up. Is it the ranch that’s got you spooked?” She pulled her hand from his and settled it in her lap. “It is, isn’t it? I thought you liked families.”

  She liked watching families. She didn’t have a clue how to behave in one. But she wouldn’t try to explain that to him—not when she didn’t understand it herself. The feeling didn’t matter anyway. She’d be gone long before he and Melissa got to the ranch.

  That fact was more depressing than facing his family.

  “I-I’m not hungry. I-I think I’ll lie down for a while.”

  “I’ll get you some aspirin and rub your head.”

  “No.” Already on her feet, she froze at the vehemence of the outburst. Surely she hadn’t yelled at him—but she had. . . Slowly, she turned to face him. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Sure you did.” Amazingly, he was still smiling at her. “You’re as antsy as I am. Your head h
urts, your arm’s smarting because you tried to eat with it.” He rose, crossing to her as he spoke. Wanting suddenly to run and hide, she also wanted to run straight into his arms.

  Maggie did neither. But she flinched when he reached to touch her forehead, brushing back a lock of her hair in a gesture that had become much too familiar. The flinch didn’t stop him any more than her outburst had. It did erase his smile.

  “Don’t you run, Maggie.” The warning was delivered softly. The intensity behind it was anything but.

  Did he know? It wasn’t possible. . .

  “We can work out anything you care to name. But only if you’re here. And I’m not talking about you physically leaving here, because we both know you can’t do that.” She relaxed. “I’m talking about that retreating act you do—taking off to that place in your head that makes you so sad. You rip my heart out when you do that.” He settled one hand at her waist, like he was ready to dance. When she didn’t move, he stepped closer, urging her head gently to his shoulder, resting his cheek against her forehead.

  Maggie clamped her lips shut on a sudden sob. She closed her eyes as his rumbling murmur beat against the defenses of her heart. “I know it took a lot out of you today—telling me everything. And I suppose it’s only natural that you’d want to take a step back now. But that’s not the right thing to do, honey. Sometimes, when you’re learning to trust, you just have to step out and do it. Then do it—trust—some more.”

  “I can’t.” She whispered the cry into his shirt, sure he couldn’t hear. She was shocked when he answered.

  “You already are, darlin’.” He cupped her chin, lifting her face to his. “This is trust—right here, right now. You know I won’t hurt you, don’t you?”

  No, she didn’t. But looking into his eyes she could almost believe. . . When he kissed her the joining was sweet and light and it seemed he captured a beam of the moonlight outside and handed the glow to her on a silver platter. When he looked at her that way—

  He moved and her arm was instantly around him, fingers splaying out over the back of his flannel shirt. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  “Don’t worry.” He spoke the words against her lips. But then he tugged at her arm and she tightened her grasp.

  If he left her now. . . “Trust me,” he whispered, smiling when her fingers slowly relaxed their grip. “Don’t let go, just slide your hand up here.” She let him guide her hand up over his shoulder. Then he lifted her into his arms, smiling again at her surprise. “You wanted bed. I always aim to please.” He kissed her onto the bed, then laid a single finger where his lips had been. “Keep your eyes right here.” He pointed to his own. “Don’t think, don’t worry, and don’t move.”

  His fingers moved rapidly down the front of his shirt. And his eyes made promises to her heart, brought contentment to her soul and heated her entire body. her, arms bridging her body, she sighed with pleasure at the contact. skimming from her eyebrow to her chin. “Did you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  When he sat down next to He stroked her cheek,

  “Good. I can hear you, too.” His thumb grazed her nipple and she shuddered. He smiled at her response. “Loud and clear.” She barely had time to blink before he lowered his head and teased that same nipple into his mouth, t-shirt and all.

  Maggie arched against him, her fingers tangling in the blanket. Closer, she needed him closer. She raised her right hand to his head, and cried out when her wrist screamed a protest. Jack supported her arm down to the bed, lifting his head to smile crookedly at her. “You do know this will be more fun when you’re not beat up all to hell, don’t you?” “I just forgot. . .” Now his smile was full of the amusement that had irritated her so in the beginning. “I’ll just bet you did. But, as I intend to have you forgetting a lot more than that, we’d better take a few precautions.” He sprinted to the table across the room, opened something and brought her a glass. “Drink this.”

  She lifted her head and took an obedient sip, then her eyes opened wide. “Merlot,” she breathed. She hadn’t tasted Merlot in two years. Jack smiled, touching her cheek. She shook her head. “How did you know?”

  His smile widened. “I just know,” he murmured. “Does it taste all right?” “Heavenly,” she murmured, lifting the cup for another sip.

  “Good. Now drink it.”

  “I am.”

  Jack shook his head. “All of it. Like the whiskey.”

  “But it’s—”

  “Alcohol. And the faster it’s in you the more good it’ll do. I’ll be right back.” He was, with aspirin and the bottle of wine. She offered him her empty glass with a smile of her own. “Did it burn?”

  She nodded. “Good.” He poured another glass. “This one you can sip.” She swallowed the aspirin and rolled to her side, hugging her body around his as he sat down again. “My thoughts exactly, darlin’.” His fingers curled around her hip, then inched forward to her belly. He flicked at a button on her open jeans. “Still need these?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Just say no, honey.” His eyes twinkled in the firelight.

  Maggie laughed. “I was trying to.”

  “Lift up,” he commanded. “And the term is fixin’ to.”

  She lifted her hips and heard her jeans hit the floor a second later. “What term?”

  “Fixin’ to,” he repeated. “In Texas, fixin’ to covers everything. I was about to, I’ll get around to it whenever, I’m tryin’ to, I’ll burn in hell before I do that. . .”

  “Fixin’ to,” she murmured. His boots thudded to the floor as his fingers descended on her thigh, just above her knee. With a feathersoft touch, he circled and began to climb, inching upward with excruciating slowness.

  “So you’re fixin’ to make love to me?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Dean Carouthers from your college did mention that you’re a fast learner.” He kissed a softly flushed cheek, skimmed over her lips and kissed her other cheek, ignoring the twisting of her head as she tried unconsciously to capture his mouth.

  When his words registered, her eyes narrowed. “What else did he say?” “That there was no way in hell you robbed a bank.” He kissed her forehead, her nose and her chin.

  Maggie moved restlessly, but when he nipped at her jaw, she lifted a hand to stop him. “What else did you find out?”

  Now his smile was slow and lazy. “All about you. I know every little thing about you, Maggie Chambers.” “That’s ridiculous. I just met you.”

  “You just met me. I’ve been getting to know you for two whole years.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”

  He sighed. “You really want to do this now?”

  She nodded and he settled himself over her on his elbows.

  His body a warm, sheltering bridge over hers, he traced her collarbones. “I know you prefer baths to showers. With Bach.”

  He drew a line from her shoulder to the tip of one breast. Everywhere he touched her skin began a slow simmer, warming underneath like a pot on low. “You like to read, preferably happy stories about large families.”

  “Lots of people—”

  “Listen to Vivaldi while they vacuum? Probably. Not as many like to wake up to Franz Danzi concertinos though.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “That’s how you found me, isn’t it?” He nibbled at her lower lip, then lifted up to see into her eyes. “You were so damn perfect, Maggie. But the music got you.” He grinned. “There’s always something. For you it was Danzi first. I thought it might be. That one was easiest. I figure we were two days behind you there.”

  “In Elyria.”

  He nodded. “And Vivaldi in Tupelo. Bach turned you in in Santa Fe.” “But how could you know?”

  “We are your government. We have ways,” he whispered against her lips. “Once the manufacturer’s started including bar codes, the rest was a piece of cake.” “But how?”

  “There’s a database—”

  “No. How did you
find out the rest?”

  “I asked questions. Lots and lots of questions. Millions of dead ends.” “Who did you ask?”

  “People.” He tried to nuzzle her chin and she stopped him again.

  “Who?”

  He groaned. “Laura Beth.”

  In that other life, Laura Beth had been one of her best friends. “What did she say?”

  “That you’re dead. No way you helped with the robbery. Since you didn’t say good-bye to her kids, you must be dead.”

  Maggie smiled. Living without the joy of access to Laura Beth’s three children had been the single hardest adjustment she’d had to make. “Who else?” “Frannie. She said you were always a little reclusive, but she wasn’t buying it either.” He picked up her left hand and began to kiss her fingers. “Jill agreed.” He glanced down at her eyes. “I actually didn’t find anyone who believed me.”

  Now her smile was distinctly smug. “Except for you, of course.”

  “I was there, Maggie—remember? It was my ass you were so discreetly admiring.” She didn’t have a response for that, so she backed off. “What else did you find out?”

  He rolled his eyes and abandoned all pretense of continuing their lovemaking. “You love babies.” Jack stopped and shook his head, clarifying. “Babies—kids—children in general. You barter babysitting for haircuts, for getting your taxes done, for facials—you name it. And that’s only when you can’t just babysit for free.”

  Her eyes narrowed. He must have found every person she’d ever known. “You teach classes—for nothing if necessary. You’ve taught minor car repair, oil changing, basic plumbing, locks and deadbolts, and basic carpentry. Before you enrolled in college, you worked for a private investigator. He taught you about tells and traps. And you learned all the tricks I depend on far too well.”

  “Not well enough.” He shook his head. “A fluke, honey. I got lucky. That field agent wasn’t there to look for Melissa—he just happened to get a picture of her. A really bad picture, too. And the guys who followed up at the other stations along the route weren’t shooting film of her. She got on the bus with a very bad man. And I was lucky enough that one of those guys was a friend of mine and recognized her.”