Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(49)
Chapter 14
“They’re at the fair.”
“The fair?” Jeb repeated, not quite sure he’d heard his son correctly.
“Yes, sir,” Jeremy assured him. “Looks to me like they’re on a date.”
Jeb Monroe shook his head. He knew the deputy and that whore were fucking each other. Well, all the more reason to provide her with a little reminder of how fleeting life could be. She’d clearly forgotten what it was like to mourn a lost family member. But he remembered, remembered every day.
“Do you have the items I gave you?” he demanded of his son.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, then, why the hell are you on the phone with me, boy?” Jeb raged. “Get your ass moving and complete your mission.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jeb hung up and turned to storm from his study but came to an abrupt halt when he saw his wife standing in the doorway, her eyes swollen and puffy. “What do you want?” he sighed. He’d grown tired of her continued uselessness. If she was going to mourn their son, she needed to channel her grief and do something productive—like exacting justice on those who’d taken him from them—instead of wallowing around the house, looking like hell.
“Where’s Jeremy?” she demanded. “Where is my son?”
“He’s doing his duty. Which is more than I can say for you.” He looked her up and down, his expression twisting with disgust at how she’d let herself go. “When was the last time you bothered to make yourself presentable?”
She clenched her fists at her sides and lifted her chin at an angle he didn’t altogether care for. “What are you making Jeremy do for you? What is this ‘mission’ you’ve sent him on?”
“If I’d wanted you to know, I would’ve already told you,” he growled, charging forward and grabbing her by the arm, shoving her through the doorway. “If you want to see justice for our boys, you’ll let me handle it and not question my judgment.”
He slammed the door to his study and turned back to his computer. He generally wasn’t a fan of the Internet, didn’t trust it. Too many idiots voicing their ignorant opinions or spreading rumors and lies. But he had to admit it came in handy now and then, and had proven to be a useful tool for sharing his vision.
Jeb grinned as he scrolled through the newspaper article he’d printed and had given to Jeremy to deliver. Elle McCoy once knew what it was like to lose those she cared about. It was too bad she’d forgotten what that felt like, the emptiness such a loss leaves in one’s soul. Well, she’d soon remember. He wanted her to suffer for a while before he took his final revenge upon her. And this little bit of news was exactly what he needed to make that suffering complete. It seemed that when he managed to take what mattered most from Mac Dawson, the loss would touch more than one heart…
*
“Thanks for today,” Elle said as she and Gabe headed back through the midway. “I appreciate you keeping my mind off of things.”
Gabe shrugged but grinned down at her. “Least I could do.”
She sent a sidelong glance his way. His limp was more pronounced than it’d been earlier that day. She’d suggested leaving several times, but he’d been determined that she have a good time to keep her mind off the anniversary of her family’s car accident.
“Even so, I appreciate it,” she told him, slipping her hand into his. “It means a lot to me.”
He nudged her playfully with his shoulder. “Then my job here is done.”
God, she hoped not…
He’d been a perfect gentleman the entire day—coming to her rescue when he’d thought she was in danger, listening patiently and holding her for hours while she grieved her family, whisking her away to the fair to relieve some of her sorrow and bring a little happiness to her heavy heart. The most he’d done was kiss her hand a few times.
And it was driving her crazy. The time for being sweet and gentlemanly was over. She wanted him. Desperately and dangerously. The realization socked her so hard in the gut, her breath caught in her chest. She’d been fighting the sexual tension, not willing to let her heart get broken again. But Gabe was no longer the boy he’d been when he’d unknowingly trampled a teenage girl’s fragile heart. He was a man—and a far kinder, more caring one than she’d allowed herself to see before now.
She wanted to feel those amazing lips on hers, wanted his hands on her skin, wanted to feel him inside her.
But she knew there was no way he was going to make the first move this time. Not after the horrible and hurtful things she’d said to him the last time he’d tried. If she could take back her words, she would, but as her Aunt Charlotte always said, that horse was out of the barn. She’d have to eat a little humble pie and make the first move.
Elle cleared her throat. “So…” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, “aside from the appearance of the son of a homicidal separatist and me nearly yakking on the Ferris wheel, not bad, as far as first dates go.”
He peered down at her from out of the corner of his eye, lifting a single brow, and gave her one of his cockeyed grins. “Was this a date then?”
She felt her cheeks growing warm and would’ve edged away from him to put a little respectable distance between them had he not released her hand to drape an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer against him.