No Perfect Hero(17)

That's what I get for a bad late night bar hookup with Shana years ago before she tied the knot.

Fucking karma.

I don’t get the chance to even protest she’s not my girlfriend before Shana hangs up on me.

Stewart's my last option, but there’s some snarly territorial part of me that doesn’t want to turn Haley over to him. Good man or not, he’s too charming, too good-looking, and a hell of a lot nicer than I can afford to be right now.

Am I afraid my good friend’s gonna steal a girl I don’t even know and can’t risk being interested in right now?

Maybe.

Fuck.

I rub the bridge of my nose, sighing and pitching my phone on the kitchen island, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the wood. “I got nothing, Hay. I’ll make a few more calls in the morning,” I tell her.

What I really mean is, I’ll find the nerve to get over my shit by morning and ask Stewart.

I can trust him to protect her, more than anyone else. He's ex-military like me. He had Jenna's back. He's tuned up damn near every vehicle I've ever owned like it was his own kid, even when I had to drive them in from Spokane before they went kaput.

There's no sane reason for shutting him out when he can help.

Too bad there's nothing sane about the ridiculous ego between my ears.

“You should probably try to get some rest. Bedroom’s all yours,” I say, trying not to bite my tongue.

Haley looks up from toying with a pizza crust without really eating it. “Where will you sleep?”

I half-smile. “Couch is good enough for me. Spent plenty of years sleeping on worse.”

She answers my smile with a wistful, tired one of her own. There’s a softer side to her underneath the angry spitfire. A side that makes this unexpected roommate dilemma even harder.

And I haven’t even had a chance to see it yet in full because I've pissed her off from the moment we met. It’s starting to peek out now.

Her guard comes down with how clearly exhausted she is, and the weariness and sadness in her smile wrench at me. This is all my fault.

I got her tangled up in my bull.

I’m the reason she’s smiling so I won’t see the fear in those darkly glimmering jade-green eyes.

She sets the crust down in the empty box and stands. I watch her reach over to ruffle Tara's hair as the little girl yawns, then bend to kiss the top of her head before straightening and glancing at me. “Mind if I use your shower before I turn in?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She flashes me that wrenching smile again and tucks her knuckles under Tara’s chin. “Go in the bedroom and get changed,” she says. “I’ll be in in a little bit.”

The little girl is subdued, but she bounces off the couch with a nod, stretches up to kiss Haley’s cheek, then skitters away and heads back to my bedroom. Haley lingers for a moment longer, fixing me with a long, thoughtful look.

I don't dare look back. Not the fuck again.

Finally, she ducks her head and leaves the room.

Air huffs out my nostrils, shrill relief. Crisis averted.

It feels like too big an accomplishment that I haven't pissed her off again, and she hasn't given me another hard-on savage enough to hit a home run with.

I sink down on the couch and crash my head against the back of it, closing my eyes with a groan. I hear water turning on in the bathroom. Nothing's going according to plan. Nothing.

But while I have my privacy, I drag my laptop over from the corner of the coffee table, flip it open, and pull up the tracker app connected to my GPS devices. I’ve only got one out now, the rest inactive, their labels in the offline list in the left-hand menu. I tap the active one and relabel it Target B, then zoom in on the map to see where Bress might be right now.

Then frown, pulling out for a broader view.

His camper’s on the way out of town.

Heading north along the main road, toward the highway.

It's odd, but not surprising, either.

If he’s into what I think he is, it's par for the course.

He’s probably heading out to meet contacts in Missoula.

I rub at my chin, frowning as I follow the dot up the highway. Missoula’s not that far. He could be there and back by morning.

I should put myself somewhere tomorrow where I can bump into him.

See how tired he is – and if he’s tired enough to slip. Say something incriminating.

I’m starting to hate this fucking waiting game. I’m only after Bress for one thing, and his dirty dealings may be a window to get to him and take him down.

All I need is hard evidence he was responsible for Jenna’s death.

Evidence, and license to do whatever it takes to bring him in.

I won’t lie.

If I had my way, I'd skin the fuck alive.

I'll settle for slugging him in the face, breaking teeth, if he gets hostile and resists a lawful citizen’s arrest.

I’m so preoccupied I don’t hear the water shutting off in the bathroom or realize I’m not alone till a soft throat-clearing catches my attention. I jerk up almost guiltily, slamming the lid of the laptop shut.

God damn am I glad for the computer across my lap.

Because the nanosecond I see Hay, my cock swells, hardens every moment she stands there dripping in the living room doorway.