Chapter Twenty-Five

Mikayla pulled into the driveway of her town house. The two weeks she’d been gone felt like a lifetime. She pushed open the front door to a space that offered no welcome. A layer of dust had settled on the surfaces, and the air felt closed in and stuffy.

She disarmed the alarm and opened a few windows, letting in the cool evening air. If she’d felt absolutely safe, she would have opened the sliding door to the patio, but until the whole cartel issue was settled, she’d keep to the side of caution. Maybe she’d get a dog. A dog would be another layer of security and would help make where she lived feel more like a home.

With a sigh, she set down her purse, then forced herself to return to her car. Several trips later she’d brought in most of her bags, as well as the plastic bins. Dirty laundry got sorted into piles to be washed in the morning, and perishable food moved to the refrigerator. Other than the ice chest, there was no urgency. She could have cleared out the car in the morning, but right now she needed to keep busy so she’d stop thinking about Linc.

Alex Smallcanyon had offered her an unwitting escape hatch, and like a coward she’d taken it, leaving Linc at the hospital without saying good-bye. She’d expected her phone to blow up with texts and calls. That it hadn’t served her right.

Earlier that morning while driving west through the Nevada desert, it occurred to her that perhaps the reason Linc hadn’t contacted her was because there’d been some complication. What if he’d developed an infection? Or the wound had reopened? Those thoughts had her speeding at eighty miles per hour to the next town where she could get cell service.

After a painfully long wait, the nurse at the Cedar City hospital came on the line only to tell her she wasn’t free to share a patient’s information. That left her only option to text Ellie, who assured her that Linc was doing well, and would be released before noon. Ellie had finished the message with a blunt order to call him.

Chewing her lip, Mikayla had done that, only to have the call go through to voicemail.

So that was that. Maybe he’d accepted the wisdom of putting the brakes on their relationship.

She’d have to face him at some point. She was sure the Marshals Service would want to interview her, and depending on how the cases went, both she and Linc would likely testify at the trials of Donny Bertola, Hector Lopez, and Paco Zecena.

She wouldn’t be able to avoid Linc forever, but a little distance might allow her to figure out what she wanted. Well, she knew she wanted Linc, but she feared she couldn’t keep herself whole if she was in a relationship with him.

After changing into a tank top and lightweight cotton pants to sleep in, she found herself pacing back and forth across her bedroom, cell phone in hand. The urge to call him again, just to make sure he was okay, was so strong her finger was hovering over his name on her favorites list before good sense prevailed. If she wanted to break up with him, not that they were formally together, then she shouldn’t call him. That wasn’t fair.

She threw herself face down on her bed, head resting on folded arms. She had never felt so alone. Even when her mother had kept her closed in and isolated, she hadn’t felt this craving to be with someone—a particular someone, in this case.

She must have fallen asleep. A loud rapping at her front door startled her awake. She sat up and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Almost ten o’clock. Heart racing, she stepped out onto the landing. Had the Zecena cartel found her? The knock sounded again.

“Mikayla, it’s me.”

“Linc.” Her breath hitched. In seconds she was down the stairs, hands fumbling over the lock and dead bolt. She pulled open the door. He stood in the glow of the porch light, solid and real, and her heart turned over. She gripped the doorknob to keep from hurling herself into his arms.

“Can I come in?”

She nodded mutely and stepped back.

He followed her into the living room, filling the space with his presence. He looked good, not like a guy who had been stabbed only a day earlier.

“Why aren’t you in the hospital?”

“Doctor cleared me to check out.”

“Are you in pain?”

He shrugged. “Sore, but I can deal.”

She nodded, and the silence stretched between them. “Can I get you anything to drink? To eat?”

“No.” He watched her with that innate stillness she recognized he used whenever he puzzled over a problem.

“Did you drive all the way here today?” When he nodded, she asked, “How did you find where I live?”

He gave her a look, and she found herself nervously rubbing her hands together. “Oh, right. You’re a marshal.” Desperate for some way to break the tension, she sidestepped him to enter the kitchen. “Do you want tea? I want tea. I have herbal tea with no caffeine, if you like, so it won’t keep you awake.” She grabbed the kettle and began filling it with water.

“I don’t want herbal tea.”

“I have black tea, too. Earl Grey. Do you like Earl Grey?” She bit her lip to stem the flow of inane comments. She set the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner.

She turned around to find he’d come up behind her. He’d moved closer. Heat shot through her, and she could feel the flush searing her cheeks. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Her heart stuttered. “Linc.”

“Mikayla.”

Longing mixed with heat made her want to lean into him and hold on tight.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving with Smallcanyon?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Because I’m a coward. I can’t do this. I can’t do us, and I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why do you think you can’t do us?”

The stubble covering his chin reminded her what it felt like when he’d kissed his way all over her body. The desire to touch him made her fingers itchy. The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Sweetheart?”

She raised her gaze and found his eyes warm. He tugged her hand loose, bringing it to his face. As if he’d read her mind, he rubbed the tips of her fingers along his jaw, the texture of his beard bristly. “We can do this, together. You feel it. I know you do. Whenever I’m around you, I know I can handle anything. You’re what centers me, what grounds me.” He paused once more, voice deepening. “I love you.”

She fought to keep the tears at bay, to push back on the emotions as she always did. But, like at the cabin, something about him broke past her barriers. Tears clogged her throat. “No.” Her throat felt ragged. “I can’t love you. It will kill me.”

He swept a thumb across her cheek, wiping away tears. “Too late. You already love me.”

She shook her head vigorously. “You could have died trying to save me. Three times. Donny could have killed you in that cabin. And Hector nearly did kill you.”

She gave a mighty sniffle, then reached past Linc for a paper towel. She pressed it into her eyes.

Finally, she drew in a deep breath, the paper towel clenched in her fist. The kettle whistled and Linc reached over to shut off the flame. He turned back to her, his big hands framing her face.

“Sweetheart.” His expression had her gulping air. “There are no guarantees. Your father died protecting you. I know that has made you guard your heart extra tight. My dad left me, but in a different way. There are risks with my profession, but honestly? Most of the time, my job is pretty mundane.”

“It doesn’t seem mundane.”

He grinned. “You caught me at a busy time.”

She set aside the crumpled towel, raising a hand to his chest when he leaned forward. If he kissed her, she was sunk.

“I’m a coward, I know that. But I don’t think I’d survive if anything happened to you.”

“That’s bullshit about you being a coward. But more importantly, why wouldn’t you survive if anything happened to me?”

She stared at him, heart hammering, knowing what he was asking.

“I need the words too, Mikayla. Once I know for sure, we can take care of anything that comes our way.”

She sighed, unable to deny the truth. Since he’d walked in the door, her house had lost the feeling of emptiness. He was her home, her heart.

Looking into his eyes, she pushed back on the fear so she could free herself for something better. She placed her hands on either side of his face. Taking a steadying breath, she said, “I love you, Lincoln Jameson. I am completely, totally, helplessly in love with you.”

Light filled his eyes, and he leaned forward to capture her lips with his. Heat and emotions swelled, sweeping them together in a maelstrom of sensation. His tongue slid into her mouth, hot and potent.

Where moments before her hands had been pushing him back, now she gripped his shirt to pull him closer. The kiss spun out, and he took his time, like he was savoring a feast.

Finally freeing her lips, he shifted to nibble on the soft skin on the underside of her jaw, hands caressing her side, thumbs rubbing against her breasts. She breathed in his warm scent, shifting to run her lips along the column of his throat. When she reached the strong muscle above his collarbone, she bit softly, and when he groaned, she stroked the sensitive spot with her tongue.

He pulled her tight against him, his hard length nestled firm against her belly. Warm, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin beneath her ear had her turning her head to give him better access.

“Is there a bed around here someplace?”

She shivered. “Uh-huh.” Her brain was so addled she could hardly form a coherent thought.

He hitched her up and she tightened her legs around his waist.

His sharply sucked-in breath made her remember his injury. “Sorry. Sorry. I forgot.”

He dropped her on the counter and tipped his head onto her shoulder as he breathed through the pain. “I’m fine, it only hurts when I pick up my girl.”

She rubbed his back. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Humor replaced the pain in his eyes. “In more ways than one.”

She scooted off the counter, rubbing against him until her toes touched the floor. She gripped his hand. “Follow me. All you’ll have to do is sit back and enjoy yourself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

Forty minutes later, satiated and lying on his back with Mikayla snuggled against his uninjured side, Linc didn’t think he’d ever felt more content. He ran his fingers lightly up and down the smooth skin of her naked back, then brushed back a curl of auburn hair from her cheek.

Her hand lazily raked through his chest hair, staying away from the bandaged wound. Her brows lowered slightly, and he rubbed the furrow between them with the pad of his thumb. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Her shoulder hitched in a shrug. “WITSEC. I know I’ll have to do it. I only hope the trial is over quickly.”

“You won’t need to go into WITSEC.”

She lifted her head abruptly, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Both Hector and Donny are taking a plea bargain. In exchange for lighter sentences, they’ll give up whatever they have about the cartel in general, and Paco Zecena in particular.”

“Sheesh, there really is no honor among thieves.”

“None whatsoever.”

“I thought the marshals were concerned there might be other cartel members, loyal cartel members, who would try to get to me before I can testify.”

He traced a finger down the side of her face, suddenly nervous. “While remote at this point, it’s still a possibility. But I, ah, convinced them you’d be safe. With me.”

“With you? What do you mean with you?”

“I mean, you’d be safe if you moved in with me. Or I moved in with you.”

“So basically WITSEC, but in my own home, or yours. And with my own personal marshal?”

“Kind of, but not exactly.”

“How not exactly?”

“Hang on a second.” Before he lost his nerve, he got out of bed to fish the small box out of his jeans pocket, then pulled on the jeans because damned if he was going to do this buck naked.

“Look, I know we haven’t talked about this, and it might be too soon.” He stood looking at her. She’d rolled onto her back, auburn hair a tumble around her head, eyes a deep dark green. His breath backed up in his throat.

This was what he wanted. She was what he wanted. He wasn’t going to stumble around about it.

“Marry me.”

She jerked upright, bringing the sheet up to cover her breasts. “Linc.”

If she was going to look at him like he’d proposed hijacking a plane and flying to Cuba, he might as well go all in. He opened the box, stared at the contents for a long moment, then handed it to her. “Here.”

Donny pulling a gun on him hadn’t scared him this much.

Her mouth formed a perfect O as she studied the ring.

“You said you didn’t like diamonds, so I thought you might like an emerald. This one matches your eyes. But if you don’t like it, we can take it back. To Las Vegas. I stopped on my way here, figured if any city would have a jewelry store open on a Sunday, it would be Vegas.”

His gut clenched into a tight knot when she handed the box back to him. He stared at the box in his hand.

“Right. So that’s a no.”

Could he have fucked it up any worse? He should have been patient. Taken her out to a fancy dinner, given her some romance. If the dead fiancé had been able to put together a proposal on a harbor cruise on New Year’s Eve, Linc should have at least attempted to do something special. Something to show how much he loved her. Instead, he’d acted like an idiot, practically throwing the box at her.

“Yes.”

He jerked his head up. Sitting on the edge of the bed with the sheet wrapped around her, she held out her left hand.

“Yes?”

“My answer is yes, Linc. I will marry you.” She fluttered her fingers. “You have to put the ring on my finger.”

His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest, and he couldn’t help what he was sure was a stupid grin from splitting his face.

The ring felt warm in his hand as he slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. When it slid home, he lifted his gaze to find her blinking rapidly against tearing eyes. Dropping to one knee in front of her, he lifted her palm to his lips, closing his eyes when she tilted her head over his, encircling his neck with her other hand.

After a long moment, he lifted his head, his gaze seeking hers. “I did it all wrong. I love you, and I should have proposed in a way that shows how much I love you.”

She laid a finger across his lips. “You were perfect, Linc. The ring is perfect. You’re what I want.”

He vowed then and there to show her every day how much he loved her.

They lay back on the pillows, nose to nose. He brought her ring finger up to his lips and kissed her knuckle above the emerald.

He pulled her closer, and when she snuggled into his arms, for the first time ever, he felt like he had found his home.