Once Broken (Dove Creek Chronicles) (12 page)

I heard a strange scraping sound coming from the back yard and tilted my head as I tried to listen closer. Hugo and Solomon must’ve heard it, too, because they both fell silent as well. A few seconds later, the three of us heard it again.

Unsnapping my bow from its harness on my back, I slid an arrow out of the quiver and headed toward the back door. “I’ll go check it out,” I told them.

Benny Jenkins’ back yard ran all the way out to the water’s edge, where
a dock extended from the shoreline out into the water. It looked like all the neighbors were in bed; curtains were drawn and I couldn’t see any lights save porch lights. The moon was growing larger, nearly full and giving off enough light that my eyes were able to adjust after being inside.

That didn’t help me, though, as I rounded the back corner of the house.

The woman and her sidekick were waiting for me. The bulky man took a few quick strides toward me, and I aimed an arrow for his leg to slow him down. It nearly went all the way through the meat of his thigh and he howled in pain.

I got a good look at the woman, and knew her in an instant. Cerise.

She was fearsome and terrible. Her long hair was cut in cascading layers dyed a range from bleach blonde to orange to deep red. She had a tattoo of a dragon that started on one shoulder with the open, fire-breathing mouth and ended with a barbed tail at the tip of her middle finger. It was an impressive work of art that she showed off by wearing a clingy top with only one sleeve. There was a set of sharp, black talons where fingernails should have been and as she gnashed her teeth in anger with me, I could see rows of pointed teeth behind her red painted lips. She wore a golden amulet on a chain around her neck. It was in the shape of a rounded triangle, with three circles inside of it.

A gust of fiery breath came from h
er mouth and I was just able duck under it and roll out of the way. As I came to my feet, the mountain of a man I had shot grabbed me by the front of my shirt and hauled me up so that my toes barely touched the ground.

“
Hugo
!” I shouted.

“You are far less impressive than I expected, Remi Hart. I really don’t know what all the fuss is about,” Cerise said as she came alongside the man who had me in his grip.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” I asked her.

“You know who I am,” she answered. “As for why . . . I’m in it for the power. Why else?”

The mountain of a man moved one of his wide hands to grip my throat. I struggled and kicked, but he held me fast. My bow was still in my hands, and I remembered the spikes Gabriel had added for me. I thrust my right hand forward and stabbed the man in the ribs. He dropped me to the ground and clutched at the wound, giving Hugo and Solomon enough time to come to my rescue.

The detective had his sidearm drawn and Hugo’s sword flashed in the moonlight as he held the blade to the hulking man’s throat.

Sol had his weapon trained on Cerise. “On the ground, both of you.
Now
. You’re under arrest,” he said.

“Not tonight,” Cerise laughed.

A woman appeared from out of thin air between Cerise and her bodyguard. She grabbed one of each of their hands, then all three of them vanished.

That explained how they always escaped when they got into trouble.

Hugo sheathed his sword and offered a hand to help me up. I took it and got my feet back under me, though I was feeling a little unsteady after that exchange. 

“Are you okay?” Solomon asked.

“Fine,” I said. “I think.”

“That was the Triple Six, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but there are more of them,” I said.

“Remi, if you are alright, we should go before the crime scene team arrives,” Hugo said.

I agreed. “I’m good. Let’s get outta here.”

Solomon thanked us and assured us that he would be fine until the other investigators got there. As I got into my jeep, I noticed that he hadn’t holstered his pistol and it was still in his hand. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was rattled by the encounter with Cerise.

MY HANDS WERE STILL SHAKING
slightly from the adrenaline that was leaving my body. Coffee was probably the last thing I needed, but making it was a familiar habit that helped to calm me down. Brewing a pot meant that I was back at headquarters, safe after another night on watch. I was so focused on filling the coffee pot without spilling water everywhere that I didn’t notice I was no longer alone in the kitchen.

“Hey there, Remi.”

I recognized the drawl immediately, but I nearly jumped out of my skin all the same. Casey is a big man who doesn’t move quietly, so it’s a testament to my attempt at concentration that I didn’t hear him coming. Somehow, I managed not to send coffee grounds scattering all over the countertop. Turning, I gave him a half-admonishing, half-teasing look.

“Heya Case. You scared the hell outta me.”

“Sorry, darlin’.” He apologized, but he didn’t look the least bit sorry.

Upon closer scrutiny, I got the impression that he was up to something. I had no idea what that something might be, but he was looking far too sly for his own good. Or
my
good, for that matter.

“I quit.” He announced this with a grin.

It took me a moment or two to realize what he meant, but then I recalled our conversation from the week before.

“Good for you. I’m glad.” I congratulated him, genuinely happy that he had kicked such a bad habit.

It was an expression that was soon wiped clean off my face.

Casey’s grin turned impish as he continued. “Remember how you said you’d kiss me if I quit?”

“No,
you
said I’d kiss you if you quit. I never–”

And just like that, my argument was stifled by his lips. Warm . . . Soft . . . Lips. On mine.
Holy hell.

I came back to myself just in time to give in an enjoy it. After all, it was just a kiss. Wasn’t it?

I hummed a little sigh of pleasure as expert fingers carded through my hair and a brawny arm slipped around my waist to pull me against his chest. I suddenly felt very much like the heroine in a romance novel, and let me tell you, there aren’t a great deal of men in this world who could make me swoon like one of those gals. Apparently, Casey Oliver is one of them.

He backed off long enough to catch a breath, giving me just enough time to gather my wits and switch off the coffee maker. It would just have to wait.

The next thing I knew, Casey lifted me easily into his arms and turned to set me on the kitchen counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist and enjoyed the feeling of his warmth and strength and just . . . Him. Putting my hand on the back of his neck, I drew him closer and pressed my lips to his. For a man made of iron and roughness, he was soft in the right places. His lips were like velvet against mine.

Casey had teased me about a kiss, but this . . . This was more than that, and I felt a deep need for it not to end. Maybe it was wrong being so physically demonstrative when we didn’t feel anything more for each other than friendship, but right then, I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Rem, you okay?” He stopped and pulled back to ask me.

I opened my eyes and looked up to find concern in his.

“Yeah, more than okay.” I smirked. “I’m a widow, Casey, not a nun.”

That must have convinced him that I was in my right mind because he didn’t waste any time getting back to business. His mouth moved to my neck and I tilted my head back to invite him closer. The gentle flick of his tongue against my skin sent a delightful shiver through me, rousing my need even further. I tightened my legs and ground against him, desperate for more friction. The movement elicited a gasp from Casey, a delicious sound that had me opening my eyes so that I could see his face.

The sound of footsteps was the only thing that stole my gaze from him.

Jocelyn sauntered into the kitchen and didn’t miss a beat. “Y’all be sure and disinfect that countertop when you’re done.” She took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and wandered back out.

I felt heat creep into my cheeks as I looked up at Casey and we laughed. 

“We should get outta here, darlin’. My place or yours?”

In the face of that night’s encounter with the Triple Six, I was feeling bold. Bold enough that I could put aside any hesitation and say, “Mine.”

chapter eight

The drive to my apartment took only a few minutes and while I was still filled with the desire to continue what Casey and I had started, it was sufficient time for doubts to creep in. Had he meant to jump in so deeply with me? Maybe Jocelyn had talked him into flirting with me to spark my interest in romance again. Was he taking pity on me and my dormant love life? 

I shook my head. Casey is a straightforward, honest man. He wouldn’t do that.

But as I stepped down out of my jeep, I had a moment of indecision. Even though I was still on fire for him, I didn’t go to him right away. I locked my vehicle and set the alarm with the button on the fob, fumbled with the key ring as I pulled out the key to my front door. He must have taken my faltering as nervousness because when I finally looked at him, his smile was one of reassurance.

I started to find my confidence again as I led the way toward the stairs. A few steps up, Casey put his hand in
mine and stopped me. On the step above him, it put us face to face when I turned around. I almost expected him to say something that would let me down gently, but instead I found his eyes dancing with unchecked ardor. It was a look that put all of my doubts behind me.

My hands found his chest and moved up to his strong shoulders, hard under the smooth cotton of the t-shirt he wore. His lips claimed mine, this time hungrier and more insistent. My own lips parted as his tongue slid against them. I had to fight the urge to melt under the onslaught, to sink down right there on the stairs and finish what we had started.

With a soft groan, I pulled away. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”

I could feel Casey close behind me as I topped the stairs and reached my apartment door. My entire body trembled with anticipation as I struggled to get the key into the lock, but he made it worse when he brushed my hair away from my neck and trailed kisses down to my collar. My hands went to the doorframe, white-knuckled as I gripped hard. Casey’s body drew flush to mine as his hands explored new places . . . My hips, my waist, my breasts. His lips were still on my neck, making my breath more ragged with each kiss. I rolled my hips, felt his hardness against me.

He made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. “Better get that door open. You’re killin’ me.”

His hands never left me as I managed to rally my focus and get the key into the lock. Once we were through the door, I barely had enough time to get the bolt set before Casey pinned me against the living room wall. The early morning light was still dim, but I could see the intensity
in his gaze. His fingers caught the hem of my black tank top and pulled it upward, and I lifted my arms so that he could slide the shirt all the way off.

Planting both hands against the wall on either side of me, Casey paused to look me up and down. He took his time, and I had to force myself not to squirm under his
intense scrutiny.

“You’re as beautiful as I always imagined you would be.”

“Always?”

He nodded. “From the moment I first saw you . . . When you saved my life.”

“I didn’t save you. You were doing fine on your own.”

Casey cupped my face with his hands. “If you hadn’t shown up, I’d be dead. And I’ve been waiting ever since.”

“For?”

“This,” he whispered.

His mouth covered mine and his hands left my face to run down over my throat to stop at the swell of my breasts. My hands fisted uselessly in the fabric of his shirt; it had to go. I could feel the heat of his skin on the backs of my knuckles as I tugged the snug t-shirt up over his chest. He took his hands off me long enough to finish peeling it away, and I was given an eyeful of taut muscles and smooth skin. I reached out and stroked my palms over the planes of his chest, felt the tickle of small hairs and the strength underneath.

Casey reached around me to unclasp my bra, and he slid
the satiny straps down my arms. He dropped it to the floor, and I pushed away from the wall to lead him to the couch a few feet away. As I went to sit, he guided me to lie down and kissed me again when my head came to rest on a cushion. His lips left mine to explore downward, nibble their way across my collarbone, and tease the bare flesh. Warm, calloused hands eased over my breasts, kneading gently before his fingertips enclosed around my sensitive nipples. I writhed and panted, buried my hands in his silky long hair as it hung around his face to brush against my skin.

Sliding
further down my body, Casey dragged his hands down my legs over my jeans. I relished the way he looked up at me from under heavy lids and thick lashes. My boots topped my jeans up to my knees, and he turned his attention to taking them off. As he removed my first boot, he found the three stakes lines up in their loops inside the leather and I saw him smile. When he unzipped my other boot, he saw the long silver knife I carried in a sheath and pulled it out, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow. I grinned.

“You really are a dangerous lady,” he said, setting the knife aside on the coffee table.

“Only to the bad guys.”

Pulling off his own boots, Casey settled back down with one of his knees on the couch between mine. “I’ve never been so glad
to be one of the good guys,” he told me with a sly smile as his fingers went to the button of my jeans.

I sucked in a breath when his knuckles skimmed across my lower belly as he unfastened the button and zipper. He tugged my jeans down and I wiggled my bottom to
help.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, voice low and pleasingly rough. “You’re too much.”

I lowered my eyes, unused to being looked at that way. At least, not for the past few years.

He curled his index finger and put it under my chin so that I would look back up at him. “I mean it.”

Tilting my head and leaning up from the cushion, I kissed him. I ran the tip of my tongue across his lips, between them, tasting him. Boldly, I rubbed the palm of my hand against the front of his jeans and squeezed ever so slightly. I delighted in the deep rumble that vibrated through his chest. Casey’s hand delved between my legs, slipping down over the top of the satin panties I wore to caress and tease my most sensitive spot. The touch made me slick with wetness.

It was a sweet relief when he withdrew his hand to take hold of the satin and slide it down my legs. His fingers returned to touch bare flesh, causing my breath to hitch. Fingertips swirled over my sensitive nub, and he was so sure of himself but so careful with me. I tried to breathe evenly, failed miserably. Even over the labored sounds I was making, I could hear Casey sigh.

“I’m sorry, I can’t wait. I wanted to take our time, but . . .”

“Shhhh.” I shook my head. “Next time. I want you now.”

He looked relieved and even more fervent at the same time. In the shadows of the early morning, I could just see him yank open the button and zipper of his jeans so that he could push them down, and a moment later, he was positioning himself above me.

“Protection?” I asked, making sure that even through the haze of our need we were being careful.

“Taken care of,” he said, sounding glad he had already gotten it done with.

“Thank God.”

He laughed a deep, husky laugh that washed over me and ignited my desire beyond any measure. I found myself parting my legs a little more in anticipation as he nudged at my entrance with the rounded tip of his manhood. My heart thundered and my pulse raced as the moment finally came when he slid inside, perfectly fitted to the deepest part of me. I watched his eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, and I shattered.

Gentle at first, testing what I could take, Casey ratcheted up the pace as I met his every thrust with a roll of my hips. His drove into me, relentless as he filled me. I threw my head back against the couch and moaned, let my eyes close as I reveled in the way he felt.

It didn’t take long before I felt the pressure begin to build. My lips parted and I breathed harder. Every last vestige of my control vanished as wave after wave of pure pleasure radiated from my core all the way to my fingertips and toes. I cried out, unable to help myself.

Casey’s own climax quickly followed, and he buried his face between my neck and shoulder as he shuddered with the release. My fingers caressed his scalp as I held him to me. He didn’t withdraw himself immediately, instead waiting a few moments for us both to catch our breath and steady ourselves. 

My body felt pleasantly heavy and I groaned in protest when Casey finally began to stir. He stood and pulled his jeans back up to his hips and asked, “Bedroom?”

“First door on the left.” I was about to ask why, but he didn’t leave me wondering as he scooped me up easily into his arms.

Casey carried me off to my bedroom and laid me on top of the coverlet just long enough to pull back the other side of it so that I could slide in between the sheets. He shucked his jeans all the way off and tucked himself in behind me.

Nuzzling at my ear, he whispered, “Told ya you’d kiss me, darlin’.”

THE AFTERNOON SUN WAS PEEKING
in through the gaps in my bedroom drapes when I woke. I started to move, but I felt an unfamiliar weight on my hip. There was warmth against my back. Slow and steady breathing near my ear.

Casey.

Dear, sweet man. I had half expected him to sneak away sometime in the morning sun. I suppose I underestimated him.

Our morning together came flooding back into my sleep-hazy brain and I smiled. I had forgotten what it felt like to awake sated and pleasantly sore.

I hoped never to forget again.

The sunny afternoon beckoned me to bask in it like a
contented cat, so I slipped carefully out of bed and left Casey to continue sleeping.

I slipped on my robe and went barefooted to the kitchen. In the middle of the day, the apartment building was quiet. It almost felt like Casey and I were the only two people in Dove Creek.

Until my phone rang and I was shot back into reality.

It was my mother calling, and I realized that I hadn’t called her that morning like I had promised. I’d been distracted, to say the least. I waited until the phone quit ringing, then sent her an apologetic text message that told her I was tied up and I’d call her later. I considered for a mouth-watering moment what it might be like to be
actually
tied up by Casey.

I put on a pot of coffee and actually got to finish doing so this time. Of course, I wouldn’t have complained if
he’d interrupted me again.

With a hot cup of coffee in hand, I started cooking some breakfast. Regardless of the hour, it felt like morning to me.

Since I live alone, I don’t cook much because of the inconvenience. I enjoy cooking breakfast, though, and it felt nice to have someone else around to cook for. I cracked a few eggs and went to work chopping onions, mushrooms, and peppers. I browned sausage, sautéed the vegetables, and scrambled the eggs. Just as I began to turn the ingredients into omelets, Casey found his way to the kitchen.

He had on nothing but the jeans he had worn into my bedroom that morning. They were riding low on his
hips and I dropped the spatula as my eyes raked over him.

“Smells good, darlin’.”

“Almost done,” I said, recovering the utensil. “The coffee is fresh. Help yourself.”

My breath caught in my throat as his hands slipped around my waist instead of the coffee pot. From behind me, he buried his face in my neck and
planted soft kisses up to my earlobe. I nearly dropped the spatula again as my limbs went weak and a lustful shiver shook through me.

“I meant help yourself to the coffee,” I breathed.

Casey chuckled against my ear, a low and seductive sound that made me tingle in response. His hands moved to my hips and he pulled me against him. I let my head fall back against his chest. The eggs were starting to burn, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“You let me sleep,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, more of a question really.

I searched my mind for a coherent thought and barely put one together. “You looked comfortable,” I said with a slight lift of my shoulders. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s it?”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with that, so I went with the most direct answer. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Sorry if I don’t know the proper procedure for this kind of thing.”

Casey turned me to face him. There was a wounded look
in his eyes that made me regret my honesty.

“You thought I’d just disappear after this morning,” he said.

He took his hands off me and rested them on the counter behind him. My skin felt cold in the absence of his warmth.

“Look, I don’t want you to feel obligated to . . . Hang around. If you don’t want to, that is.” I stumbled my way through an explanation. “I mean, I’ll have you for as long as you want to be here, but I’m a big girl. I don’t expect there to be strings attached.”

“Fine, no strings,” he echoed, taking his hands off the counter. His stance shifted to a more confident posture, one I was used to seeing him take. “As long as you understand that we’re friends first. I’m not gonna skip out on you, Rem.”