He ate too much, and Tate wondered if the close call with the chilly waters of the sound had sparked his appetite. Or if it was simply that he was sitting here with the woman who had changed his life.
Because he could no longer deny it was true. She had changed it, and in ways he suspected he didn’t even know yet. She’d changed it despite the fact that he wasn’t sure what this new life was going to be. Except that he wanted her in it. But he had no right to ask her to share it with...whatever this was hanging over him.
In fact, if he was smart, he’d get out of here. Leave, and hope whoever this predator was would follow, since it was Tate he was after. That way, at least Lacy would be safe.
His appetite for food more than satisfied, he stood up to help clear the table. This act of doing something so...domestic together seemed both simple and impossibly complex. But he concentrated on it as if it were crucial, trying not to think about the other appetite that was building.
Not that he needed any help sparking his appetite for Lacy. He was almost afraid to look at her, for fear she would see the need already raging in him. And as soon as he thought it, he heard her say softly,
“About that thought you had...”
It flared as quickly, as hotly as it had from the first time he’d touched her. He had no thought of explosions or electric shocks or near dunks in the sound in his head. There was only room for Lacy and the feel and taste of her. And that precious moment when, straining to hold back, he felt her body clench around him as she cried out his name. When he let himself go and exploded into her with a ferocity that took his breath away.
He awoke before dawn with a jolt, after a dream in which he had frozen, watching Lacy pitch over the rail, unable to stop it or help her. She had disappeared beneath the chilly waters and never surfaced again. And a voice behind him, from a man wrapped mummy-like in a scarf, announced there was more than one way to kill a man.
The truth of that gnawed at him, just as the image of her slipping out of sight haunted him. He got Gramps’s Colt and made another circuit, on the distant chance something other than that dream had awakened him. He found nothing, but the visuals hung on. It was all he could do to wait until a decent hour before texting Quinn for a meeting. He felt guilty not telling Lacy what he planned, but he knew she would not want him to do what he thought he had to do. Quinn would understand. It didn’t take a genius, or even a particularly perceptive person, to see that the man would move mountains and more to protect Hayley.
When he arrived at Foxworth, Quinn’s vehicle was there, but there was no sign of anyone. Nor did Cutter greet him as before. But the moment he registered the dog’s absence, Cutter came racing around the side of the building and headed straight for him. The dog greeted him effusively, making him smile despite it all. And the moment he started scratching behind the dog’s ear he felt that easing of tension he’d noticed before. He wondered if it was an effect of all dogs, or just a special few, like Cutter and Sunny.
A minute Quinn, with a tennis ball in hand, appeared from the same direction.
“Morning,” he said. “What’s up?”
“I have to leave,” Tate said without dissembling, knowing Quinn wouldn’t mind the blunt opening.
Quinn always had that air of watchfulness that the best of his team had had, but now it shifted from a general sort of thing to a tight focus, and the difference was almost palpable. Just like the change in Cutter when he went from being just a dog to...whatever it was he became.
“She could have died yesterday,” he said.
Quinn lifted his head slightly. “And you think you need to get away from her, to keep her safe.”
He was a little relieved that Quinn had gotten there so quickly. “Yes. If this guy, whoever it is, is after me, then if I go, he’ll follow.”
“And then what?”
He hadn’t really thought that part through completely yet, that damned dream had him too rattled. It would have been bad enough if any innocent had been hurt because of him, but Lacy... God, Lacy...
The bottom line was obvious, to him at least.
“Lure him out. I’ve had enough of this sneak attack crap.”
“Using yourself as bait?”
“I’m what he wants, right?”
“Safe enough assumption,” Quinn agreed.
“So if I’m not here, Lacy will be safe. I know it sounds like running, but—”
Quinn cut him off with a shake of his head. Then, quietly, he said, “Running’s not in you. And I know if it was just you, you’d never even think about it.”
Relieved, Tate nodded. “I couldn’t live with it.”
“And that I understand completely,” Quinn said. “But if you do go, then he’ll know you’re on to him.”
Tate frowned. “Wouldn’t anybody be on to him by now?”
Quinn smiled. “One of the things I’ve learned since we started Foxworth is that guys like this often think they’re smarter than everyone else. Besides, don’t forget he’s been trying to make this look like an accident every time.”
“Lucky for me,” Tate muttered. “But then again, if he had the balls to come at me head-on, this would be over by now.”
“And that,” Quinn said with a grin, “would be an epic fight worth watching.”
He appreciated that assessment, coming from this man. But none of this changed the crux of the thing. “I can’t keep putting Lacy in danger.”
“I get that. Look, by tomorrow I’ll have a couple of guys back who can start keeping an eye on her place, round the clock. I’ll do it in the meantime—”
“I can,” Tate said. “I’ve been doing recons, but I’ll step it up.”
“He went after you on that ferry, a very public place with lots of possible witnesses. You’ve already driven him to that.”
“Then he does know I’m on to him.”
“Maybe. Could be he’s getting desperate.”
Tate swore under his breath. “Why can’t I remember? There’s not a damn thing I can think of that would explain this.”
“Then we have to assume either it’s in that patch you lost, or it’s something he just thinks you know.”
“I don’t even know him.” Tate shook his head in frustration. “That still doesn’t change the bottom line.”
“Lacy.”
“Yes. I can’t let anything else happen to her because of me.”
“Somehow,” Quinn said thoughtfully, “I don’t see her as the running type any more than you.”
“She’s not. But I brought this down on her—”
“You did not. The responsibility for this belongs to one person only, and it’s not you.”
“But if she hadn’t... If we hadn’t...”
Quinn grinned then. “Yeah, but think what you would have missed out on.”
Tate blinked. Then he gave a rueful smile. “That obvious, huh?”
“Only to a man who’s been there. And since I have, let me point out that any guy who has a woman like Lacy in his life is a very lucky man.”
“Even if somebody’s trying to kill him?”
The grin widened. “Even if.” Then he glanced from Tate to Cutter and back. “Feel like dog sitting?”
Tate blinked. “What?”
“Best burglar, prowler and trespasser alarm there is,” Quinn said with a nod at Cutter.
“You mean...keep him at my place?”
“Just until we round this clownhat up.”
“I... You sure you want to risk him?”
“He can take care of himself. And help you take care of Lacy,” Quinn said.
Tate looked down at the dog who was suddenly watching him intently, as if he knew what Quinn was saying. Hell, maybe he did.
“He might not like that.”
He was thinking fast. Would Lacy mind? After all, he was spending most of his nights with her. Then he remembered her crooning over the dog, planting kisses on his head, and knew she wouldn’t.
“He’s done it before,” Quinn was saying. “He knows it’s sometimes part of the job.”
For an instant he wasn’t seeing Cutter, but another, sunny yellow dog who had also known what was part of the job. He felt the familiar tug, but was brought out of it by Quinn’s voice.
“I’ll get his stuff.”
Quinn walked over to his SUV and opened the back. He pulled out a small backpack and carried it over to Tate.
“Bowls, food enough for a week, chew bones and some treats if he earns them. Oh, and a couple of tennis balls,” he added with a grin.
“You keep a go bag for a dog?” Tate couldn’t help smiling as he took the pack. Cutter watched the handover and was suddenly on his feet, ears up, alert.
“He’s one of the team.”
“You’re sure you trust me with him?”
Quinn’s grin vanished. “If you weren’t the kind of person we would trust with him, we would never have taken the case.”
Tate felt a sudden jab of...not envy, he liked the guy too much for that. More like admiration, that he’d managed to arrange his life to only work with people he liked and trusted.
“You’re with him,” Quinn said to his dog. “Guard.”
Cutter gave a low woof that was clearly an acknowledgment. And even knowing how clever the animal was, Tate was still a little surprised when the dog turned and sat beside him, so close he was touching his leg.
As Sunny used to do.
Damn, this was going to be harder than he’d thought.
“It’s Lacy who needs guarding,” he said, trying to fight down the stab of missing his old partner.
“He knows she’s part of you. He put you two together, didn’t he?”
Tate’s gaze shot back to Quinn’s face. He might be smiling, but he also looked dead serious.
Hayley says he’s an inveterate matchmaker...
“You believe that.”
“His track record is hard to ignore,” Quinn said. Then, briskly, he added, “Food morning and night if you can manage it, although he’s not manic about it. And he’ll take orders from you, unless he thinks they conflict with getting his job done.”
Tate almost grinned himself. “And if he does think that?”
“He’ll ignore you.”
“Because he’s obeying you first.”
“Exactly.”
Cutter jumped into the buggy without hesitation. Tate glanced back at Quinn, who had taken out his phone.
“Better let my wife know I just loaned him out again,” he said with a grin.
Tate drove home with Cutter beside him and the image of a man crazy in love with his wife in his mind.