Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)(71)
He stopped her words with a kiss, then lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I love you, Elle.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. She’d longed to hear those words since she was a teenager, had denied herself even the smallest hope of ever hearing them. And now she couldn’t quite believe them.
She shook her head a little, clearing away the blissful haze that always descended upon her when she was in Gabe’s arms. “What did you say?”
“I love you,” he repeated. “I know it’s probably too soon to say that. But—”
“I love you, too,” she said, the words coming out before she could stop them. “I always have.”
His breath shot out of him on a sharp exhale, and he pressed his forehead to hers. Then he was kissing her again, his fingers spearing into her hair. But there was something off in his kiss, something in the way his lips clung to hers, that made her search his gaze for answers when he at last drew the kiss to a close and got up to dispose of the condom. When he returned to bed, he pulled her back into his arms without a word, holding her close to his heart as if afraid to let her go.
“What is it?” she pressed gently. “Gabe, there’s something wrong. I can feel it.” When he tried to turn his gaze from her, she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “Gabe Dawson, I love you. With all my heart. But you have to let me love you. Don’t shut me out now—not after what you just confessed.”
He closed his eyes for a moment as if considering her words. “I’m worried about Monroe, about what he’s going to try next. I’ve got to stop that son of a bitch. When I think about him trying to hurt you again… God, Elle, I just want to keep you here in my arms and never let you go.”
“Oh, Gabe…” She brushed a kiss to his cheek, his brow. “Do you think I worry about you any less? You’re the one who told me we can’t let Monroe get to us or he wins.”
He shook his head. “It’s different now.”
“Why?” she pressed. “Because we’re lovers?”
He clenched his jaw, his chiseled features appearing even sharper. “Something like that.”
She lifted the silver Saint Michael’s pendant from where it lay just below the hollow of his throat and rubbed her thumb over the image of the archangel, his sword raised against the cowering Satan at his feet. How many times had she prayed for Saint Michael’s protection for Gabe and all the Dawsons? Too many to count.
“Nothing’s different for me when it comes to being afraid for your safety,” she insisted. When he gave her a questioning look, she continued, “Since you became a deputy over a decade ago, I’ve prayed every day I wouldn’t get a call that you’d been hurt. Or killed. Just because I hadn’t told you I love you, Gabe, it didn’t make my fear for you any less real.”
“But this is my job,” he reminded her. “I accepted the risks when I signed on. Every man in my family has been in law enforcement since before Fairfield County even was a county. There were no rose-colored glasses when I decided to follow in my father’s footsteps. But you’re an attorney, for Chrissake. You shouldn’t ever have to be in the crosshairs, Elle. Not like this.”
Elle offered him a halfhearted smile. “You might not be seeing your career with rose-colored glasses, Dawson, but you’re certainly using them to view mine. I prosecute the bad guys you’re arresting, remember? You don’t think any of them or their family hold grudges? There’s a reason my address isn’t listed in the phone book, Gabe.”
He sighed—which she immediately recognized as a sign that he was about to capitulate to her rather than actually confide what was bothering him. Yeah, well, that tactic might work for some people, but she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. After all, hadn’t he said one of the things he admired most about her was her ability to see through his bullshit?
“What are you keeping from me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “And don’t tell me nothing. That would just be insulting.”
He ran a hand over his hair and she could tell he was considering his words carefully. “I think Monroe is about to make a move—worse than what we’ve seen up to now. I think up to this point, he’s just been toying with us, trying to make us paranoid until we didn’t have a moment’s peace. But I think whatever else he has brewing is the real deal and that scares the shit out of me. The fact that I don’t have a single fucking clue what he’s planning to pull makes it that much worse. I don’t know any more than that, Elle. I really don’t. I tried to find out more, but it was a no-go.”
She leaned upon one elbow, peering down at him. “You have a source?”
He nodded, but it was hesitant. “Anonymous.”
“We need to bring this person in,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “We need to find out what he knows, get a statement. It could be the break we were looking for.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, it was a no-go,” he reminded her. “The informant was afraid of Monroe and was reluctant to make any waves. I mean, hell, can you blame them? Billy Monroe decided to cooperate with us and inform against his uncle, and now they can’t find enough of him to even bury.”
Elle heaved a frustrated sigh. “Well, this person came to you once. Maybe he will again.”