Better with You: Outback Skies, Book 4

There’s nothing hotter than a killer love story.

Outback Skies
, Book 4

Charlie Baynard is an average Outback cop. Protecting the people in his small town and flying through the Outback skies in his police chopper suits him just fine. But there’s a side to him that no one knows about. Like the fact he used to be one of the Australian government’s best assets, and his name isn’t really Charlie.

A dangerous past conditioned Charlie to be afraid of nothing and no one. Except for the woman who knows
exactly
who he really is. His wife. And if the reports that she’s headed for Wallaby Ridge are true, he’s got two choices—arrest her or kill her. Before she kills him.

Dani De Vries never questioned orders and was paid to do things that put her on a lot of most-wanted lists. Then Charlie entered her life and things…shifted. Now Dani is on the run, hunted by dangerous people. But not as dangerous as the man she never meant to fall in love with—her husband.

If only she can find him in time. And convince him not to put a bullet between her eyes.

Warning: The hero and heroine in this romance are dangerous. And violent. And don’t pull any punches, in or out of bed. And they spend a lot of time in bed having a lot of sex. A
lot
of sex.

Better With You

Lexxie Couper

Dedication

For Fedora and Val. For riding along with me from the very beginning on this crazy adventure.

For Tabatha. For cuffing the problems that needed to be cuffed.

For Sami. For knowing what the hell was going on in my spies’ hearts when the bastards were keeping it from me.

Chapter One

Charlie Baynard put down the phone and reached for his gun.

His gut, never really an organ for reacting to the situations he found himself in, knotted. Of course it would now, given the call he’d just taken.

A call he had never expected to receive, from a life long in his past.

He was retired, damn it.

He now existed as a simple cop in a simple Outback town. That was it.

He was on no one’s radar. He was, as far as people went, a non-event. A cop in a small town way out whoop whoop, with a population of just over five hundred people, one pub and not a single set of traffic lights.

He’d picked this life, this existence, after realizing he’d lost all taste for the
job
he’d been trained for. He’d been good at the job—very,
very
good—but after an order that had made his gut roil, and a betrayal that had torn what was left of his soul to shreds, he’d called it quits.

Seventeen years had been long enough.

Seventeen years and enough red on his hands to dye the ocean.

He’d walked away. Handed in his non-existent badge. Told the director to never call him again.

Changed his name. Erased who he’d once been.

Pulled a few strings with a secret contact to land the job as Wallaby Ridge’s senior constable.

Moved.

And that had been it.

He’d kept his finger on the pulse of the
industry
, as it were, without drawing any attention to himself. Seventeen years of habits were hard to break. But apart from knowing things no Outback cop should, things about politicians, world leaders, movers and shakers, media moguls, oil tycoons, tyrants and dictators, he was a simple bloke who lived by two simple rules—keep his small town peaceful and free of ruckus, and be there for his mates whenever they needed him.

His mates.

Tightening his grip around the Glock’s butt, Charlie thought of his mates.

What would the doc, Evan and Ryan think of the call he’d just taken?

Ryan suspected something about him, but even the heli-musterer would be shocked if he knew the truth.

The truth.

Not for four years.

Fuck a bloody duck, when was the last time Charlie Baynard had dealt in truth?

Not since he’d become Charlie Baynard, that was for certain.

Dropping his stare to the standard-issue weapon in his hand, he drew a slow breath. Lowered his heart rate. The fact his heart rate
was
elevated told him he’d been out of the game for too long. There was a time when the
only
way Dani De Vries had caused his heart rate to increase was when she was buck naked, moaning his name as they played the life-or-death game that was their job. Getting a call to say she was heading his way now…

His heart beat faster at the thought, despite the deep breaths he was pulling.

Fuck.

Fuck.

His
wife
was in Australia.

An image of Dani filled Charlie’s head. The last time he’d been in her company, the last time they’d been face-to-face. She’d been in a black lace bra, matching G-string, stilettoes and nothing else. Her hair had been a mess of pitch-black tousled waves, her lipstick smudged by his lips. An unsettling combination of pleasure and contempt had smoldered in her light blue eyes. The Benchmade Mini Griptilian—her blade of choice for close-quarter combat—dripped beads of blood redder than her lipstick.

His
blood.

She’d tried to kill him that day.

Tried. Failed.

Knowing Dani the way he did, he was pretty certain she was still holding a grudge about that.

And now she was in the country and, according to his contact at ASIO, heading his way.

His contact didn’t know why.

Turning the Glock over in his hand, Charlie let out a slow breath.

There were two reasons he could think of for Dani De Vries looking for him.

One—someone had put a hit out on him and she’d gladly taken the job.

Two—she was bored and had decided it was time to pay him a visit. And Dani didn’t do
visits
in the traditional sense.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, rising to his feet and sliding his gun into its holster.

If Dani was coming after him, he had two options to stay breathing. One of them involved leaving Wallaby Ridge. The other option would likely result in someone experiencing a lot of pain and exposure. Regardless of that, he liked Wallaby Ridge too much to leave.

It was his home now.

His mates were here. Matt, Ryan and Evan.

He wasn’t going to walk away from them. Especially because Dani was the kind of person who could very well use them to find out where he was if he did.

Better to face his
ex
and deal with her without anyone knowing what was going on.

It was the only way his secret could stay just that—a secret.

With a grunt, he scooped up his hat, slapped it on his head and exited his office. Those oblivious mates of his were no doubt already at the pub waiting for him.

It was Friday arvo. Their traditional decompress/beer/catch up awaited.

He’d go have a beer, play a round of darts—it was his turn to kick Matt’s arse at the game, after all—grab some dinner and then head home, dig up his Desert Eagle and fixed-blade tactical knife from his backyard and get ready.

As ready as he could be, given what was coming his way. And when it came down to it, he excelled at being ready for that kind of
what
.

Very well.

At least, it used to be.

It had been a while.

“Hitting the pub, Senior Constable?”

Charlie swung a look at Timothy Wattle, his deputy and the Ridge’s newest resident. The city boy had only been in the town for a month, not yet long enough to get the smell of concrete and oil out of his pores. He was, in Charlie’s opinion, not cut out for life in the Outback. Charlie gave him another three months, tops, before he scurried back to Sydney.

“Yeah,” he answered, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob of the station house’s main door. He could already feel the late summer afternoon sun baking the world on the other side of the door. Even by Outback standards, it was a scorcher. Brutal. “Make sure the Dutch tourist in Number 2 gets dinner, okay?”

Timothy nodded, looking for all the world like a puppy who’d just been asked if he wanted to go for a walk. “Will do, Senior Constable. Have a good night.”

“Will do. And, Timothy?”

His deputy almost snapped into a right angle behind the front desk. “Senior Constable?”

“For fuck’s sake, call me Charlie.”

Before Timothy could say, “Sure, Senior Constable, I mean, Charlie” like he did every time Charlie instructed him to be less formal, Charlie twisted the doorknob and pulled the door wide.

A blast of heat from the furnace that was Outback Australia slammed into him.

He paused for a second, waiting for his body to adjust. For the sweat popping out on his forehead to evaporate.

And in that barest of seconds, he scanned his heat-shimmering, red-dirt-dusted surroundings and his heart thumped fast in his throat.

Of course, if Dani were out there, she wouldn’t just walk up to him in public. That wasn’t her style. Not if she were here to kill him.

If she
were
here to kill him, he wouldn’t see her until she sank her blade into the space between his second and third ribs.

If that happened, he’d be having words with her.

Pulling shut the door in an effort to keep Timothy and the Dutch tourist in lock-up 2 in some semblance of air-conditioned comfort, he pulled a breath of hot air. Felt it blister his windpipe on its way to doing the same to his lungs.

The flesh between his ribs stayed intact. Unpierced.

With a grunt, and another quick survey of the empty strip of dirt that passed for the main road in the Ridge, he stepped from the porch of the stationhouse and made his way to the Outback Skies pub.

It took him fifteen minutes to get there by foot, a ridiculous length of time given the pub was only a few metres from the cop shop. However, the people of Wallaby Ridge were friendly country folk, which meant Charlie was stopped constantly on the way.

Once by the town’s resident baker, Ross, the owner of the bakery the Dutch tourist had trashed the afternoon before in a drunken search for some kind of Dutch pastry Charlie had never heard of.

When Ross shoved the box of
oliebollen
at Charlie and asked him if it was okay for Charlie to deliver it to the confused, homesick tourist in lock-up, Charlie couldn’t help but laugh.

Yeah, threat to his life or not, he wasn’t leaving this place.

The second time he was stopped, he had to tell the town’s gossip, Esmee, that, no, the doc
wasn’t
going to be moving to the big smoke just because his wife was expecting triplets, regardless of what Esmee had heard.

Finally arriving at the pub, he crossed to the bar and handed the owner, a wiry bugger only known as Lacky, the box of Dutch pastries. “Keep those in the fridge for me, mate? And don’t let me forget ’em. They’re for the tourist I locked up last night.”

Lacky nodded, poured Charlie his normal beer and pushed it across the bar. “Can do, Charlie.”

With a grin at the proprietor—a man Charlie knew had notched up more kills in Vietnam as one of Australia’s snipers than any other in the country’s Defense Force—Charlie turned from the bar to look at where the rest of the Outback Skies Fly-Boys’ Club members sat.

And froze.

Dani De Vries was sitting at the table with Evan, Matt and Ryan, a beer in her hand, smiling at him.

Fuck.

Charlie stopped himself pulling his Glock a heartbeat before his fingers could wrap its grip.

Dani’s smile stretched to a grin.

He noticed it didn’t make it to her eyes.

As always, Dani’s eyes were unreadable.

Whatever was going through her mind as she sat at his usual table with his mates, Charlie had no clue.

Which put him at a disadvantage, because there was no way she would have missed the shock on his face when their eyes first met.

Fuck. Again.

He didn’t like being at a disadvantage. Especially not against Dani.

“Hey, Baynard!”

At Ryan’s shout, Charlie sucked in a deep breath.

His brain told him he could smell Dani’s scent, an intoxicating mix of Chanel No. 5, gun oil and jasmine, from where he stood.

His brain needed a reality check. Hard to do though, when the only woman to ever make him lose control was but a few feet away. Looking sexy as hell. And just as dangerous.

Damn it, she’d always been his weak spot.

Ever since the night of their first mission.

And then, when he’d learned of her history…what had driven her to become—

“Baynard!” Ryan shouted again. “Get your arse over here. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Dani’s grin curled into what could only be described as a smirk.

She held his stare.

Stroked a strand of her hair—no longer black but a dark russet he noticed for the first time—across her forehead with the trigger finger of her left hand.

Charlie’s balls rose up. His gut clenched.

Without uttering a word, Dani had told him the situation was seriously fucked up.

For who, he didn’t know.

Not yet.

Forcing a relaxed calm into his body, he let his own lips curl into a grin and ambled over to the table. Placed his beer on it. He hooked an empty chair from the table next to theirs and dropped into it. Directly opposite Dani. Making sure he could reach his Glock without impediment or delay if needed.

She watched him.

Eyes unreadable.

Fuck. This was going to be interesting.

“So?” Ryan—sitting next to Dani—leant his elbows on the table and fixed Charlie with a pointed look. “Wife?”

Charlie slid his stare back to Dani.

She raised one dark eyebrow at him. A pulse ticked at the base of her throat.

The only sign she was as on edge as he was.

“Wife,” he said.

Beside him, Matt burst out laughing. “Oh, man, and I thought
I
had some skeletons in my closet. Care to provide us with more details, Senior Constable?”

On the other side of the table, Dani lifted the beer she was drinking to her lips. “Anyone would think you’re ashamed of me, baby cakes.”

“Baby cakes?” Ryan snorted, shaking his head. “This is just too good.”

Charlie didn’t look away from Dani.

She may be holding a beer in one hand, but the other was under the table. Out of his line of sight.

Which meant he could be dead in five seconds, depending on what she was holding in that unseen hand. Dani could, in theory and practice, end his life without Ryan, Matt or Evan knowing it had even happened.

There was an art to taking someone out in a crowded room without anyone becoming aware what was going on. An art Dani practiced with the talent of a master.

The only person better at it that Charlie knew of was himself.

But it had been four years. Four long years…

Are you seriously thinking of taking Dani out? Before she—

“What brings you to Wallaby Ridge, sweet cheeks?” he asked, killing the disquieting contemplation.

At the words
sweet cheeks
, Dani’s eyes glinted.

Finally. An emotion.

Trouble was, Charlie recognized it as an emotion that usually preceded someone’s clavicle being broken.

“Work,” Dani answered, the word a husky promise.

Charlie drew a steadying breath. His heart turned to a thumping canon. He didn’t blink. Instead, he raised his own beer to his lips, watching her over its rim as he took a slow pull.

The glint in her eyes danced. Somehow different.

He’d been playing with fire, calling her sweet cheeks. It was a name she’d always hated when they were on the job. Of course, back then the odds of her topping him were not as high as what they were now.

“Okay, okay.” Matt laughed, positioned between them both. “We need details. Serious details. For starters,
wife
?”