The call came in the middle of the night. Or was it the wee hours of the morning?
Angie rolled over and looked at her clock. Two a.m. What the hell? Her first inclination was to let it go to voicemail. It was probably a wrong number anyway.
Then she snapped fully awake. What if it was an emergency? Gina and the baby. Or one of the boys, who were no strangers to urgent care.
She searched for her phone on the nightstand but couldn’t find it. Funny, she could’ve sworn she left it there. After all this time she still liked to have it close, especially at night. She padded to the chair in the corner of her bedroom and rifled through her purse. Just as she felt it in the palm of her hand the ringing stopped.
Angie tapped on her call log when the ringing started all over again. The screen lit up with a New Mexico area code.
“Kari?” she answered and cleared her throat. “Is that you?”
Silence.
“Hello. Is anyone there?”
More silence.
“Whoever this is, stop playing games.” Her voice trembled. “Hello. Hello. Do you hear me?”
She hung up and hit redial. Perhaps it was a bad connection. Cell could be sketchy in the cabin, especially in bad weather. The first week of December had brought non-stop rain.
But she got the damned recording again. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”
Sagging onto the edge of her bed, shaken, she wondered what to do next. It was too early to call anyone. And what would she say anyway? The phone rang but no one was there. Even though it was the second time it happened, it was probably a digital anomaly. A phone chip gone berserk, making random calls to anyone in Kari’s contact list.
She considered calling Earl, who was used to his phone ringing at all hours of the night, but dismissed the idea. Again, she had nothing substantive to report and would sound like a wackjob.
Instead, she crawled under the covers and lay awake, trying to convince herself that there was nothing to worry about. No one from the US Attorney’s Office or Marshals Service had contacted her since she’d been home. No news was good news, right? But the call continued to plague her and she couldn’t fall back asleep.
Finally, she threw her blankets off, went into the kitchen, and made herself a cup of herbal tea. Maybe that would do the trick. She peered out the kitchen window and noticed that Tuff’s own kitchen light was on. No telling, though, whether he was awake at this ungodly hour or if he’d merely gone to bed with the light on.
She stood at the window for a while, sipping her tea, looking for movement. And then she caught a glimpse of him at the refrigerator.
Angie went into the living room, wrapped herself in a throw blanket, and crossed the foot bridge that separated their two cabins. He opened the door before she could knock and stood in the entryway in a pair of unbuttoned Levi’s and a bare chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got another call from the same area code.”
“Your friend?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. All I got was static. I thought it might be a bad connection. But when I tried to call the number back, I got that same recording as last time.”
“Come in out of the cold.” He looked down at her bare legs and silly fuzzy slippers.
She’d never been inside Tuff’s cabin before. Though it was the same design as hers, it was pretty bare bones. No pictures on the wall, no color, no personality. Just a few pieces of plain, utilitarian furniture, including a leather sofa that she was fairly certain Tuff hadn’t made. The cabin was tidy, she’d give it that.
“Let me turn on the heat.”
It was freezing inside. Too cold to be walking around shirtless.
“Why are you up?” she asked.
“Couldn’t sleep. Sometimes I get that way.” He turned the dial on the thermostat. “This call…it got to you, didn’t it?”
She didn’t bother to lie. “Yes, though I hope you’ll tell me all the reasons why I’m being ridiculous.”
He motioned for her to take the couch, while he chose a dun-colored recliner. The whole house was awash in tan and beige. At least the log walls were charming.
“Clearly, you’ve got your reasons for being concerned. I wouldn’t dismiss that.”
It was difficult to concentrate on his words while he was half naked. Her eyes kept zoning in on his chest. Tuff was cut. Not like a body builder, which wasn’t at all Angie’s thing. But like a man who was used to physical labor. Add in the delicious sprinkling of dark hair that narrowed into a happy trail disappearing under the waistband of his jeans and she forgot about the disturbing phone call altogether.
“Can a phone just have a mind of its own, even if the number has been disconnected?”
“I don’t think so. But it’s out of my wheelhouse.” He leaned closer to Angie. “What do you think is going on? Because you’re obviously upset, or you wouldn’t be here at two in the morning.”
She sighed. “I think someone is intentionally trying to freak me out.”
Tuff sat up straight and rubbed the bristle on his chin. She’d never seen him unshaven. Between the scruff and the bare chest, he reminded her of central casting’s idea of a cowboy maverick. Rough and tumble and inordinately sexy.
“Who’s this someone?”
“I don’t know.” Everyone with a motive was in jail. As far as she knew prisoners weren’t allowed to have cell phones. Or else they’d terrorize everyone on their shit lists.
“Could it be this friend of yours?”
“Kari?” The name slipped out before Angie had had time to think. “No, though she may be trying to reach me.”
“This seems like a weird way, don’t you think?” He locked eyes with her and in a soft voice asked, “Could it be the guy you were seeing?”
She had no idea how Tuff would know about Zane unless Sawyer or one of her cousins had opened their big mouths. But they knew better than anyone not to give away the full story. “I highly doubt it.”
“Why’s that?” He continued to watch her.
“Because he’s not in a position to make phone calls.”
“Is he dead?”
She jerked her head back. “Why would you…think…or even say that? Of course he’s not dead.”
“Then he could be making the goddamn phone calls.”
She had no intention of telling him that Zane was locked up in a federal holding facility. “Then how do you explain the recording?”
He got up, grabbed his phone off the kitchen counter, and fiddled with it for a few seconds. “Is this the message you got?”
“Yes.”
“I got it straight off the Internet.” He played the message again. “That’s from my phone. I recorded it. Anyone with a cell phone and a little knowledge could make that their voicemail message.”
“So, you’re saying the number isn’t really disconnected, it’s just a ruse?” She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that.
“Ange, I have no way of knowing. But it’s possible. I say we wait a day or so and call again. This time from a different number, something unrecognizable to your caller, and see if he picks up.”
It was a clever idea. “Or am I making too much of this? Maybe it was an accidental dial.” Kari might have put the message on her phone in an abundance of caution. Unlike Angie, she’d rejected the protection of the federal government and was going it alone. Faking that her phone was disconnected might help throw unwanted callers off her trail.
He hitched a brow. “Twice? I’m not a big believer in coincidences.”
“Okay, now you’re kind of freaking me out.” What if someone had gotten to Kari and now had her phone? But who?
“Do you have reason to be afraid of this guy? Or could he just be messing with you?”
She was definitely afraid of Zane. If he were free, instead of behind bars, she’d be terrified. In Zaire he’d been the gentlest of souls and kind beyond belief. Not until they moved to Taos did she realize he had a mean streak a mile long.
But it was Burt and his men who she feared the most. Besides having a total disdain for the law, they believed women were for sex and little more. Their contempt for any woman who dared to defy them was swift and brutal. She’d experienced it firsthand, though not as badly as some of the others.
She had Jet Ackerson, an undercover ATF agent, to thank for that. If he hadn’t infiltrated the group, she’d likely be dead right now.
“I don’t have any reason to be afraid of him,” she said but even she could hear the hesitancy in her voice.
Tuff didn’t say anything for a long time. He got up, went to his room, and returned with a sweatshirt on. Unlike before, he took the seat next to her on the sofa. “I know you’re not being straight with me, Angie, which is your prerogative. But it’s clear to me that there’s more going on here then you’re letting on. The bottom line is if you don’t go to Jace I will.”
* * * *
The last time Tuff kept a woman’s secrets, it had ended in bloodshed. He wasn’t doing it again. Whatever Angie was dealing with—and he had no doubts left that whatever it was it was scaring the shit out of her—was for the police to decipher. Not him.
He’d built a life here. A good life. He wasn’t going to let his infatuation with Angie screw with his judgment. And everything about this situation screamed police matter.
Sure, on the face of it, it was nothing more than a couple of prank calls. But her reaction to them told him she was hiding something. Sawyer all but confided that she’d been in a bad relationship. In Tuff’s experience that meant abuse. He’d seen it up close and personal. And the phone calls and the day Angie stood petrified in front of her door, afraid that someone had broken in…well, they all held the hallmarks of a woman afraid of being stalked.
Unfortunately, he knew the psyche of an abuser all too well. His mother’s lovers weren’t happy unless they were controlling every second of her day. The last one, Floyd, got himself worked up if Mary paid too much attention to Tuff. Her own goddamn kid. God forbid she should give Tuff a couple of bucks to get a hamburger. Or help him with his homework without Floyd going berserk and cracking them both across the face.
Yeah, Tuff knew the type all right.
“Did you hear me, Angie?”
“There’s no need to get Jace involved. I’m just being paranoid. That’s all.”
“Paranoid will save your life.” He took her hand in his and held it. “You know what else can save your life? Going to the police. You’re lucky enough to have a cop in your family. Whatever this is,” he pointed to Angie’s lap where her phone sat in the folds of her throw blanket, “Jace will figure it out. And if it turns out to be nothing you’ll sleep at night.”
She gave an imperceptible nod. “Can we at least try tomorrow to call from a different phone before I go to Jace?”
He thought about it. “We probably only have one shot at it before the jig is up. Jace should be involved in the call, Angie. What’s your problem with going to him?”
“I sound hysterical. Nothing has happened except for a couple of phone calls.”
“And the other day when you thought someone had broken into your house.” He jutted his chin at her to make his point.
“That’s the thing, no one did. I’m letting my imagination run away with me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Nothing wrong with alerting the sheriff.”
She rolled her eyes. “My brother wants to get me a panic button.”
That told Tuff all he needed to know. Sawyer wasn’t the type to overreact. In fact, he was one of the most level-headed guys Tuff had ever met. And as a journalist he’d seen some things. Some really bad things.
“Why not? It certainly can’t hurt.”
“Thank you.” She reached up and touched his face. “I bet you wish I never moved in across the creek. Before me it was probably nice and quiet. Drama free.”
He wished she’d never moved in across the creek. But it had nothing to do with preserving the quiet and everything to do with his attraction to her. “Nah, drama free is highly overrated.”
Damn, he wanted to kiss her. She looked so beautiful cuddled up in her blanket on his couch. Her hair mussed from her bed and her eyes blue as topaz, looking at him like he had all the answers.
Only by dint of will did he keep himself from pressing his lips against hers.
Instead, she did it for him, catching his mouth with hers. The kiss started slow, hesitant at first as if she was testing the waters. She pressed her body against him and he rested his hand on her bare leg. Her skin was warm and soft. He let his fingers creep under her nightgown. Not the flannel one she wore that morning on the porch. This one was silky to the touch and floated over his fingers like feathers. He wanted to see her in it, but the blanket was in the way.
She must’ve read his mind because she moved it, giving him an unobstructed view. The whole number was held up by two thin straps and clung to her breasts like a second skin. Tuff grew harder, his erection straining against the fly of his jeans.
He went in for another kiss, plunging his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted like chamomile. Her hands slid under his sweatshirt, touching his stomach, and he held his breath. Tuff moved over her, but the sofa was too small for the both of them.
Without saying a word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into his room. The blankets were shoved to the foot of the bed, evidence of his fitful night. He brushed them out of the way and laid her down.
She stared up at him with her big blue eyes and his pulse quickened. He wanted her. Despite all the reasons it was a terrible idea, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
She reached up and pulled him down on top of her. Afraid he’d crush her, he went up on both elbows and gazed down at her. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. He couldn’t remember a woman who’d ever made him this willing to break his own self-imposed rules. He’d always been a rigid man when it came to his romantic entanglements. Either this new stable life of his had him he slipping, or she’d casted a spell over him.
Don’t over think it, he told himself. Take what she’s offering.
He rolled them both to their sides and touched her breasts, watching her nipples pebble through the silky fabric. He licked them, leaving wet spots on her nightgown. She shivered and he immediately reached for one of the blankets.
“No,” she murmured and rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head.
“You’re not cold?”
“Uh-uh. Hot.” She caught his mouth with hers and arched up to kiss him.
He tugged her straps down her shoulders, exposing her breasts. They were small and pert and fit perfectly in his hands. As he fondled them, she moaned and threw her head back. His hands were rough from working with leather and he feared he’d scrape her soft skin. But the more he touched her the more turned on she got.
He dragged the hem of her nightgown over her head, leaving her in nothing but a pair of white panties. His eyes heated at the sight of her.
“Your turn.” She rucked up his sweatshirt, pulled it off, and tossed it on the floor. Her hands roamed his chest and his arms, making him suck in a breath. Then she went for his jeans, undoing each button one at a time.
Impatient, he lifted up and shucked them off in one fluid motion.
“These, too.” She tugged at his shorts, dragging them down his legs.
In return, he slid her panties off and arched a brow at the sight of her. The carpet didn’t match the drapes. “And here I thought you were a real redhead.”
She erupted into a fit of giggles.
“Shush.” He rolled her on top of him and ran his fingers through her hair.
“Disappointed?”
“Nope. Never.” He reached down and caressed her curvy backside. “You’re about as perfect as it gets.”
She propped herself up and stared down at him. “Do you mean that?”
“I never say anything I don’t mean.” She was a knockout. There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t tell her that. “Come ’ere.”
He cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeply as he rolled her under him. “We doing this?”
“I hope so.” She reached between his legs and stroked him and he nearly lost his mind.
“Take it easy there. I don’t want reach the finish line even before we get started.” He trailed kisses down her throat, in the valley between her breasts, over her taut belly until he hit the promised land.
“Ooh.” She grabbed his shoulders. “Oh, Tuff.”
He took her to the brink, then kissed his way down the inside of her thigh and back up again. This time, he planned to take her all the way. But she tugged his head up.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Please.”
He leaned over her, pulled open the door of his nightstand, and found a condom. She grabbed it away from him, ripped it open, and rolled it down his length. He was inside of her so fast, he’d probably beaten his all-time record.
“This okay?” It was a tight fit. He stopped moving to give her time to adjust to him. “God, you feel so good.”
“Mmm.” She tilted her head back on his pillow and ground into him, begging for more.
“You sure?”
She cupped his ass and pushed him deeper, thrusting upward. He moved again, pumping in and out at a steady pace. She whimpered and wrapped her legs around his waist so he could go even deeper. Then she met him stroke for stroke.
They were perfectly in sync and he couldn’t remember ever being this turned on. Her body, her scent, the sexy noises she made was like a wild aphrodisiac. He moved faster. Harder. She moved with him as they took each other higher.
He touched and kissed her everywhere, consumed with giving her pleasure. She was close, he could feel her body pulsating, ready to take its release. He worked her with his finger and watched her come apart as she called out his name.
“Tuff? Tuff?”
“I’m right with you, baby.”
A few minutes later, he collapsed on top of her, sated, covered in a sheen of sweat. He waited for his breathing to even out and pulled her on top of him.
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“What do you mean?” She rolled off him, turned on her side, and propped up on one elbow.
For it to be so intense. “I don’t know. You coming over. Us winding up in bed.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “I didn’t plan it if that’s what you think.”
He sifted a strand of her hair between his fingers. “That’s not what I was saying.”
Tuff swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Be right back.”
By the time he returned from the bathroom, Angie was curled up like a cat, sound asleep. He stood back, watching her for a few minutes, trying to will away the tiny ache in his heart. This is a one off, he told himself. Never get too attached.