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Olivia parked her Honda Civic in the gravel driveway. She turned off the ignition and, with an exaggerated sigh, let her head fall back against the headrest.
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of peace before re-opening one eye to look down at her watch.
Seven forty-five a.m. She grimaced before getting out of her car, not wanting to stay out in the open alone for too long. Just in case.
Yawning, Olivia put her hand over her mouth. She barely noticed the slight chill in the air as she walked up the small sidewalk, wishing she hadn’t covered the night shift. Again.
She’d been doing that a lot the past few weeks...covering for nurses who couldn’t make it in for one reason or another.
Olivia was pretty sure everyone thought she was just trying to prove herself since having come ‘back from the dead’. The truth was, she needed to stay busy.
The hospital here wasn’t as non-stop as Dallas Regional—where she used to work—but the minor injuries and illnesses seen in the ER here were enough to provide the distraction she desperately needed.
So, for the past month and a half, Olivia had signed up for every available shift she could. It helped...or, at least it used to.
She’d moved to Northern Falls six weeks ago. It was a small city located half an hour northwest of the Dallas-Fort Worth area.
Its population of nearly 6,000 made it a tiny spec compared to DFW’s three million. It was exactly what Olivia had been looking for.
Northern Falls was quiet. Peaceful. After the chaos that had become her life, Olivia felt she had no choice but to leave the city for somewhere smaller and more secluded.
Now, that same seclusion she craved just a few short weeks ago was becoming yet another source of heightened anxiety.
As she made her way to the quaint porch, Olivia studied the small house she’d rented. It was the only one around for miles.
Before, she thought she’d never want to leave the city. After barely surviving what Olivia now referred to as “The Volunteer Mission from Hell”, that changed.
Everything changed...after.
Her life was like that now, clearly divided into two halves—Before and After. God, how she longed to go back to Before.
Before she’d ever stepped foot in Madagascar. Before her new friends had been ruthlessly murdered right in front her. Before some idiot had decided to fixate on her.
Before Jake. An invisible weight fell on her heart as his name entered her mind.
For years, Jake had been her best friend. For one magical night, he’d been so much more.
Then, the big jerk left without so much as a word. Two freaking months ago.
Olivia quickly shut the door on those thoughts. At least, she tried to.
Even on mornings like this, when she was so bone-tired she could barely make it up her porch’s four steps, thoughts of Jake somehow managed to push their way through.
She’d tried everything to keep from thinking about him, including nearly working herself to death. Some days it worked, but lately, even the double-shifts weren’t enough.
No matter what, Jake always seemed to be there. Drifting around in the back of her mind.
Olivia would be in the middle of completing a patient’s chart or stocking a room’s cart with various medical supplies, and she’d find herself wondering where he was and what he was doing.
Day after day, no matter what she did to avoid it, the same questions would roll through her mind.
Was he ok? Had he been hurt on the job? Was he ever coming back? If he did come back, would he even bother to come see her?
Then, she’d start to worry he would show up, which created a whole new set of questions.
What the hell would she say to him? Would he still want to be her lover, or would they go back to being just friends?
Could they even be friends after the way he’d left her? Did she even want to be his friend anymore?
It began to consume her. So much so, Olivia hadn’t been able to resist contacting Homeland Security Agent Jason Ryker—Jake’s handler and one of the agents who’d questioned her about her abduction—more than once to try to find out what she could.
Olivia had only recently learned that Jake left his Delta Special Forces team—and the Army altogether—a few years ago to start R.I.S.C., an elite, private security company.
The acronym, which stands for Rescue, Intel, Security, and Capture, pretty much sums what Jake and the other members of R.I.S.C.’s Alpha Team do.
While running for their lives in the Venezuelan jungle, Jake explained his team often worked with Homeland Security, and sometimes even the FBI and CIA.
R.I.S.C. sometimes took on private citizens as clients, depending on the people involved and the situation.
Thanks to the very limited amount of information Jason had been willing to share with her so far, Olivia knew Jake and his team were on some big, important job. Supposedly, they had been since their questioning that first day back had ended.
Not every job R.I.S.C. took on was dangerous, but from what Olivia understood, most were. This explained why, even though she was beyond ticked at the man, she was still worried about him.
The last two times Olivia spoke with Agent Ryker, he’d assured her that he’d been in contact with Jake, and that he was fine. Each time he told her that, she’d had the same, roller-coaster reaction.
She felt immediate relief in knowing that, at least for the time being, Jake was safe. Then, just as quickly as her relief hit, the anger and pain would start to slide in.
When this part of the cycle came, Olivia’s mind would conjure up all sorts of mean-spirited—and very colorful—things to say to her good buddy, Jake. Words that would make a sailor blush.
Because the obvious question was, if Jake really was okay, then why hadn’t he contacted her? He’d obviously spoken to Homeland, so why hadn’t he called her?
The night they spent together aside, he was her best friend. He should have at least found the time in the last two months to pick up a damn phone and let her know he was okay.
Olivia would then start to think that maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t called. Jake was always so intuitive. The minute he heard her voice, he’d know something was wrong.
He’d worry. Probably catch the next flight home from wherever he was and swoop in to try and save the day. Olivia didn’t want that. She just wanted...him.
Yawning again, she didn’t even bother to cover her mouth, this time. Okay, so she wanted Jake and a good night’s sleep. It had been far too long since she’d had either one.
After returning from South America, Olivia had started to dream about her late brother again. The dreams were different each time, but they were always terrifying.
She’d see her brother, Mikey, in the midst of various training exercises. The dreams would then cut-scene and change.
Mikey would be hurt and, despite knowing what needed to be done to save him, she’d just stand there, watching helplessly as he suffered and died.
Olivia and her father had never been given the exact cause of Mikey’s death. The only information the Army had shared with them was that her brother had died during a training accident. Which probably explained the multitude of ways her mind had imagined him dying in her dreams.
Lately, however, the nightmares had started changing mid-way. Instead of Mikey dying, it would be Jake.
As if that wasn’t enough, her dreams would morph, again. She’d find herself back in the jungle with Jake and, like before, they’d be running for their lives.
No matter how the dreams played out, Jake always ended up dead, and Olivia was always awakened by her own screams.
Both physically and emotionally exhausted, Olivia knew she couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to give, and soon.
As for Jake, Olivia was also starting to realize that if he truly wanted to be with her, he would have found a way to call or text. Plain and simple.
With that in mind, she unlocked her door, stepped inside, and closed it before securing the two deadbolts, and entering her alarm system’s code.
She was starting to get used to this new routine. She hated it, but after everything that had happened, Olivia wasn’t taking any chances.
Removing her Glock 43 from her purse—something she never thought she’d carry on a regular basis—she headed down the narrow hallway to her bedroom at the back of the house.
Her eyes did a quick sweep as she moved, making sure nothing was out of place. A habit she couldn’t seem to break. Thankfully, everything appeared as it had when she’d left for work yesterday morning.
Breathing easier, Olivia placed the gun in her nightstand drawer and began getting some things together. She’d just pulled a clean pair of panties and a short pajama set from her dresser drawers when the doorbell rang.
Although it had been over a week since her break-in, adrenaline immediately began pumping through her system. Suddenly, she was very much awake.
Common sense told her if whoever was on the other side of the door wanted to hurt her, they probably wouldn’t have bothered ringing the bell.
Even so, it was pretty early for someone to just drop by. And, with the way her life had been going lately, Olivia wasn’t about to risk everything on another person’s common sense.
Grabbing her gun again, she walked back into the hallway and toward her front door.
She drew in a deep, calming breath before lifting up on the balls of her feet and looking through the tiny peephole. In that same instant, every ounce of air she’d just put into her lungs came rushing out with a loud whoosh.
Dropping back to down her heels, Olivia didn’t move. She just stood there like an idiot, staring at her door and wondering what she should do.
Open it? Ignore it? The choices bounced back and forth through her mind like a ping-pong ball.
The doorbell’s second ring snapped her out of it and she shook her head in disgust. Why was she hiding like a guilty person? She’d done nothing wrong. He was the asshat who’d left without saying a word. He was the one who should feel badly. Not her.
With new determination, Olivia quickly tucked her gun into the waistband of her scrub pants. Resting it against the small of her back, she pulled the hem of her shirt down to cover it.
The fitted scrub top hugged the contour of her waist, but the back was loose enough to keep the gun hidden. She hoped.
Entering her security code with more force than necessary, Olivia then unlocked the deadbolts. With one more deep breath, she lifted her chin and opened the door.
Jake looked as sexy as ever as he stood there, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. He’d cleaned up since the last time she’d seen him. His dark brown hair was fixed in that messy, yet amazingly sexy way some guys did theirs, and his scruff of a beard had been neatly trimmed.
His heather gray, long sleeve shirt stretched tightly across his sculpted chest, shoulders, and biceps, but went loose at his narrow waist.
Olivia couldn’t stop her eyes as they began wandering down to his perfectly worn jeans, or keep from remembering exactly what he looked like beneath it all.
Just the sight of him sent a shot of arousal through her body, dousing the flames of the oh-so-terrifying wrath she’d intended to pummel him with just seconds before. Well, crap.
“Hey, Liv.”
Her eyes snapped back up to his. God, just hearing his low, alluring voice again made her insides clench. Then, he gave her that slow, crooked smile and her heart melted a little more.
“H-hi,” she stuttered.
Yep. It was official. She was pathetic.
They both just stood there, staring. Each lost in their own thoughts and memories. In reality, it was probably less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity before Jake tilted his head slightly and widened his smile.
His entire face lit up, and those strikingly gorgeous eyes twinkled. Actually. Freaking. Twinkled.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
For months, Olivia had been dreaming of seeing him again. Time and again, she’d gone over what she would say to him if he ever decided to reappear in her life.
She’d visualized every possible scenario, from jumping his bones to punching his gorgeous face and telling him to go to hell.
Now that he was actually here, all she managed to do was fumble out the words, “Uh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.”
Mentally chastising herself, she moved to the side to give him enough room to pass by. As he did, his familiar scent assaulted her. It was a mixture of woodsy soap and pure male heat.
More than that, though, it was simply...Jake. He had a tantalizing fragrance all his own.
Olivia’s mind betrayed her, replaying the memories she’d tried so hard to avoid. Him naked. On top of her. Inside of her. Jake grunting out her name as he...
“Thanks.”
She blinked again. Had he just said something? She shook her head as she closed the door, automatically going through her routine with the locks and alarm again.
As her brain finally decided to come back to the land of the living, Olivia started wondering why Jake was finally here, surprised to find she was both excited and afraid of the possibilities.
****
Jake felt as nervous as a whore in church. He’d heard Olivia moving around inside after he’d rang the doorbell that first time. Knew the precise moment when she’d looked through the peephole, and exactly how long she’d stood there afterward.
When he finally saw her for the first time in months, it was all he could do not to grab her and pull her into his arms. Knowing that would go over about as well as a fart in a spacesuit, he’d purposely stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from doing just that.
Now, he found himself awkwardly waiting as Olivia locked the door and punched in her alarm code. The telltale bulge under her shirt was not lost on him, and a fist reached inside his chest and grabbed hold of his heart when he saw it.
She most likely was suffering from PTSD. Completely understandable, given everything she’d been through. Still, Jake couldn’t stand the thought of her being so scared she felt the need to carry in her own home.
He’d seen several men fight that unforgiving bitch of a battle after returning home, and it was a hell like no other. Nausea rolled through his gut knowing she could have been struggling with that same internal torture while he’d left her all alone.
A new wave of hatred against the men who had taken his woman and tried to sell her rushed over him. His only consolation was the knowledge that they were all either dead or behind bars. And those who were behind bars would never, ever see daylight again.
Even so, Jake’s protective streak prevented him from remaining quiet. Because, fuck yeah, he still thought of her as his.
“Everything okay?”
Olivia turned to face him, a fake-as-shit smile plastered on her face. “Everything’s fine.”
Damn. She was lying, which meant everything was definitely not fucking fine.
That fist squeezed his heart again, and Jake was grateful she couldn’t see his fingernails digging into his palms. He tried to lock it down. She didn’t need him going all caveman on her, now, after all this time.
“I tried calling before stopping by, but the recording said your number was disconnected.”
She broke eye contact. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
That was it. No explanation. Nothing. Don’t think so, sweetheart.
“Why did you change it?”
While continuing to avoid his eyes, she licked her lips. An adorable little habit she had when she was nervous.
“There, uh, were a lot of reporters calling for interviews. After.” She shrugged casually. “I got tired of it, so I changed my number.”
It was a plausible explanation, but Jake’s gut was telling him there was more to it. He narrowed his eyes slightly, really taking her in.
She’d gained some weight since he’d found her in that God-forsaken jungle, and the renewed curves looked good on her. Really fucking good.
That aside, she was too pale, and the shadows under her eyes worried him. Jake wondered when she’d last had a full night’s sleep. He also noticed Olivia was skittish as hell.
Stepping closer, Jake pulled his hands from his jeans and rested them low on his hips. Trying his best not to come off too gruff, Jake willed himself to speak calmly.
“What’s going on, Liv?”
Finally making eye contact again, she looked much too innocently when she answered, “Nothing.” She started to pass by him to head toward the quaint kitchen on her right. “Would you like something to drink? I can make us some coffee or tea or—”
He gently grabbed ahold of her wrist, stopping both her movement and her words. He heard her tiny gasp, and knew from the pulse pounding against his fingertips that she was just as affected by that simple touch as he was.
Good. We’ll come back to that later, sweetheart.
Speaking more sternly this time, Jake asked, “Are. You. Okay?”
****
The worry on Jake’s face was touching, but Olivia needed more than his worry or pity. Much more. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it?
She would always want more than he was willing to give. That pesky little fact proven by his noticeable absence these past two months. Remembering this, Olivia jerked her arm away.
“I told you. I’m fine.”
Doing her best to keep her irritation at bay, Olivia walked into the kitchen to get them both something to drink. She pulled two mugs off the pegs of the black, wooden stand by her stove and set them on the counter.
When she turned around to ask if he wanted tea or coffee, she found Jake standing right in front of her.
Her breath caught in her throat. Mere inches were now all that separated their bodies. The man was so freaking stealthy, she hadn’t even heard him walk over to her. I’ve got to learn how he does that.
Olivia’s mind short-circuited, her thoughts coming in quick fragments. He’s close. So close. Too close.
She could feel his warm breath on her face. Smelled the intoxicating mixture of soap and his natural scent.
Olivia remembered his touch. His taste. And it was all too much.
Suffering from sensory overload, she wanted to tell him to back up and give her some space. She wanted to yell and ask him where he’s been for the past two months.
A part of her even wanted to scream at the top of her lungs for him to get the hell out of her house and never come back.
She’d been doing just fine on her own, and didn’t need him showing up here unannounced with his perfect body and freaking crooked smiles.
Just being in the same room as him was messing with her head. So, yep. She wanted him gone.
Then, why aren’t you telling him to leave?
“Is that really what you want to do, Liv?” Jake’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts. He glanced at the mugs behind her. “Drink tea and exchange pleasantries?”
Opening her mouth, Olivia tried to tell him what she really wanted was for him to go, but nothing came out.
What was wrong with her? Was she really so weak for the man that she’d actually lost her ability to speak?
Apparently, because as Jake leaned toward her with pure determination in his eyes, her vocal chords froze. When his gaze fell onto her mouth, her breaths began to come in short, shallow spurts.
Olivia licked her lips—something she seemed to do a lot around him—and when those blue eyes rose up to hers once more, she realized the very last thing in the world she wanted was for him to leave.
She wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her the way she’d dreamed about for months. Wanted to know he’d missed her every bit as much as she’d missed him.
Soon, that want became a ferocious need.
She suddenly needed Jake’s lips on hers more than her next breath. The ache between her legs grew exponentially, and despite her earlier thoughts, Olivia couldn’t stop her body’s natural reaction to this man.
He hasn’t even touched you yet, and you’re melting into a puddle. Get a grip, Bradshaw!
Except, she couldn’t. This was Jake, and when it came to him, all traces of logic and common sense flew right out the flippin’ window. Along with her self-control.
Her entire body ached for him, now, every muscle screaming for his touch. The only thing she could do now was stand there and wait for those sensual lips to find hers.
Jake leaned in and began to wrap his arms around her. Rather than fight a losing battle, Olivia closed the gap between them.
Her breasts brushed against his hard chest, and she felt ridiculously triumphant when his fingers pressed into the flesh at her shoulder blades in reaction.
Reaching up, Olivia clasped her hands behind his neck. When she lifted to her tiptoes, both of Jake’s hands began to slide lower.
She closed her eyes. Her lips neared his as his fingers continued their torturous decent. Slowly, they moved even lower until finally, blessedly, he made a move to grab her...gun?
Before Olivia could react, Jake had the weapon freed from her pants, and had broken out of her grasp. He stepped back, putting some distance between them.
Her eyes flew open. He was just standing there, with her gun at his side.
Olivia couldn’t keep up with the sudden onslaught of emotions. She was confused. Disappointed. Mortified and...pissed.
Raising an arrogant brow, he said, “Care to explain yourself?”
Both stunned and furious—mainly at herself for falling for the almost-kiss tactic—she blurted out, “What are you...give that back to me!”
Like two children playing keep-away, Jake held the gun above his head and out of her reach. To no avail, Olivia jumped, trying to snatch it from his hand.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
His voice was stern, and she could tell he was starting to get angry. Well, isn’t that just too damned bad?
“Nothing’s going on,” she stopped jumping and glared at him. “I’m a single woman, who lives alone. And, I have all the necessary paperwork for the gun.”
His expression told her he wasn’t buying it.
Getting more frustrated by the second, Olivia said, “I have every right to protect myself, Jake. For crying out loud, lots of women carry guns.”
She reached for it again, but he continued to hold it away from her with very little effort.
“Sure they do,” Jake agreed. “But I’m willing to bet most don’t feel the need to have their guns in their hands before answering their fucking doors.”
He took a breath, his eyes searching hers as he continued pushing for the truth. “Give me a break, Liv. You’ve moved, added new locks and a high-end security system, changed your phone number, and now this?” Jake tilted his head toward the gun.
Olivia watched as he emptied the bullet from the chamber, released the magazine, and had her gun completely dismantled and on the table behind him...all in a matter of seconds.
She definitely should not be turned on by that, but holy moly, that was hot.
“I think someone’s bothering you, and I want to know who it is.”
Jake was glaring at her, now, his hands low on his hips. He looked so...
Dominating.
The word forced its way into her thoughts and, damn, if she wasn’t even more turned on than before. What the hell is wrong with you?
It was a sickness. It had to be. She was certifiably, mentally ill.
At least that would explain how, even though she wanted to beat the crap out of him for treating her like his best friend’s kid sister again, Olivia also wanted to strip him naked and take him right there on the cold, linoleum floor.
Her panties got wet just thinking about it. Yep, you are one sick puppy, Bradshaw.
Reining it all in—barely—Olivia shook her head and cleared her throat. “No one’s—”
“Damn it, Olivia! For once in your life will you stop being so fucking stubborn and tell me what’s going on!”
She jumped. Didn’t mean to. Not with him. As mad as he was, Jake would never, ever hurt her. Not physically, anyway. Tell that to your heart.
Of course, he noticed. “Shit, Liv.” His voice lowered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that...damn it, you know I can help you.”
Olivia opened her mouth to deny it again, but the look on his face told her he wasn’t going to let it go. He’d keep pushing and pushing until she finally gave in.
God, the man could be insufferable, and as usual, Olivia had zero resistance when it came to him. She bit her bottom lip and tried not to let him see how scared she really was.
“I’m handling it.”
Instantly, the lines on Jake’s forehead smoothed, and his expression hardened. “Handling what?”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Jake. Really. It’s—”
“You do realize, I make one phone call to Derek, and in less than two minutes I’ll have any and all complaints or police reports you’ve ever filed.”
Olivia actually felt her jaw drop. Flustered, she said “Derek can’t hack into the NFPD’s computer system. That’s...illegal!”
That damn eyebrow rose again, and he looked as though she’d just made the most ridiculous statement in the history of the world. Which, she had.
Of course, super-secret black ops types wouldn’t care about a silly thing like illegally hacking into Nowhere, USA’s police database. Especially not a guy like Derek West.
A literal computer genius and member of R.I.S.C.’s Alpha Team, the former SEAL was much too good at what he did to get caught.
Not that Derek needed to hack the department’s computers now, anyway. Olivia had just confirmed Jake’s suspicions herself. She had filed a police report since moving here. Three, to be precise.
Shit, shit shit.
Jake turned away, quickly reassembling her gun before handing it back to her, butt-first. Praying he didn’t notice how the gun shook in her hand, Olivia took it and sat it on the counter behind her, next to their still-empty coffee cups.
“I don’t want to call D,” Jake’s soothing voice rumbled. “I’d much rather hear it from you.” He took a step closer. “You’re obviously scared of something, Liv.” He reached up and caressed her cheek. His eyes pleaded with her as he whispered, “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Ah, man. Sweetheart? Really? With that one endearment and his heartfelt plea, the final thread of Olivia’s resolve disintegrated.
She became putty in his hands. Strong, callused hands that were currently touching her with loving caresses.
Hadn’t she known all along this would happen? Olivia silently cursed herself because when Jake looked at her like he was now, she knew she’d give him any damn thing he asked for.
“It’s nothing big, Jake. Some...things have happened since I’ve been back.” She quickly added, “But, I’m fine. Really.”
The muscle in his jaw flexed, and his brows furrowed. He let his hand fall to his side, and she immediately longed for it back.
“What sort of things?”
Olivia was too damn tired to keep up the pretense anymore. The man was like a freaking dog with a bone. He wouldn’t give up until she’d spilled every single detail, so it was pointless to waste more energy arguing.
She blew out a steady breath. “Look, Jake. I’ve just come off my third double shift in ten days. If we’re going to have this conversation, then I really do need that coffee.”
His brow crinkled in the middle. For a moment, he genuinely looked as though he felt badly for keeping her awake. Not bad enough, apparently, because his only response was, “Better make a full pot.”
