Their Summer Heat (12 page)

As soon as the door closed, she toed off her shoes and delicately shucked her shirt. Logan arched a brow as he pulled back the covers. She finished undressing down to nothing but skin before crawling into bed. “I’ve been waitin’ to fall into this slice of heaven all week. The hospital beds are plastic over cinderblock.”

She lay down in the middle, her head resting on the plush pillow. It was true. Money could buy a better bed. “I don’t suppose you and Max can climb in here with me?”

He shot her his handsome smile before pulling his Polo over his head. “Your wish is our command.” He shoved his pants and underwear down and crawled in beside her, but not before she raked his glorious form with her gaze.

“What will Dan and his team think?”

“They can think what they want to think, but they won’t say anything.”

Right. They were probably out there shooting off their mouths about the situation because they were human, but she was way past worrying about it when this bed held everything she needed at this moment in time. She nestled against Logan’s side, rejoiced in his heat. He looped an arm around her and tugged her to him. She missed this, the sharing of skin, even in a nonsexual way.

The door opened and Max entered, carrying a glass of water. He grinned. “Can I play?”

“No playin’,” she said. “I just want to feel you two. After I go to sleep, you have my permission to get up and do whatever.”

She sat up, took the Ibuprofen, downed it with water, and then settled back to admire the strip show. Max undid his button-down shirt and dropped it on the floor. He unhooked his jeans and shoved them down, along with his briefs. Damn, these two were built.

Both of them were semi-hard, and she was grateful they were interested in her but knew she wasn’t up to the task. Max crawled in beside her, and she rolled onto her side, facing Logan. She raised her wounded arm, and Max spooned her to him, then Logan moved onto his side and scooted back. She laid her injured limb across Logan’s ribs.

Despite her waning body, delight tumbled through her. It was wonderful being sandwiched between the Prestons. “You two are so warm.”

Max kissed her hair, fanned his hand over her belly. She was tired, hadn’t gotten her strength back from the blood loss. Closing her eyes, she focused on clearing her mind and stealing their heat.

* * * * *

Max waited five minutes after Summer’s breathing became slow and even before he dared to move. He eased back, rolled out the bed, and went to his brother’s side. Max lifted up her injured arm, and Logan slipped out. They stuffed pillows under her arm and leg and wrapped her up.

As they dressed in silence, all Max could think about was how much he had missed her and how close they had come to losing her. They stepped out into the hallway.

After quietly closing the door, Logan said, “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”

Max agreed, even though it was just short of eleven. He’d had a tough time lying there wanting to squeeze her tight and never let her go. But her weariness beat at him, and he knew it would be awhile before they could take off the gloves.

The office door was open, so they snagged two beers from the fridge before heading to the command room. Wallace’s
in
with the FBI meant there wasn’t a shortage of information. In fact, it took up most of the room. Several murder boards held the pictures of each woman and their respective crime scene. A bank of computers engulfed one side of the room, where surveillance cameras covered the property entrances, hallways, and rooftops. Six men were ready to go on the prowl when the sun went down.

“Anything new?” asked Logan.

“No, sir. The FBI set up decoys at the remaining ladies’ places, and with any luck, they’ll catch someone tonight,” said Wallace.

“I have a question,” said Logan. “Wouldn’t it take more than one person to pull something off every night?”

“We thought of that, sir. It would take a miracle to accomplish those murders singlehandedly, but we think this guy is super smart, and he’s planned this for a while. He’s just executing.”

“How long ago were the ladies’ names announced?” asked Max.

“Two months ago, it was publically announced, but four months ago, the
committee was aware of the ladies’ identities, since they were pretty much the same ones who have been auctioned for the last few years, except for three who got married and four more who were just added this year. And we believe the creep knew Miss Heat worked the Bergeron Cancer Gala every year. The fact you two bid on her may or may not have put his plan in motion.”

“I don’t know,” said Max. “That’s pretty farfetched.”

“Maybe,” replied Wallace, “but what if he was upset that Miss Heat was
not
auctioned off before, thought that she was a better prize than these other women? He might have set this up to prove to New York they were mistaken about who the real catch was. And when you two bid on her, he teetered between proving his point that she’s better than the other ladies and punishing her for betraying him.”

“Sick, twisted bastard,” Logan spat.

“And all this shit is just speculation on my part,” said Dan.

“Well,” said Max, “she wants to see all the information you’ve got, including the pictures.”

Several of the men in the office cursed.

“Her psych major is taking over. She wants to help,” said Logan.

“I’m sorry, sir. But these scenes would make a hardened man puke,” said Wallace.

“I know, but this is her chosen field. If she can’t handle it, we’ll pull her out. She’s sleeping right now. When she wakes up, she needs to eat, and then you can brief her. In the meantime, we’re catching some shuteye in the den.” Because the good Lord knew he and Logan would be awake all night just in case the son of a bitch came for Summer.

“Sounds good. I think one of us will watch the cameras, and the rest can snooze, too.”

Back in the living room, Max took the easy chair, and Logan crashed on the couch. With any luck, they’d snag an hour or two. He was bone tired from lack of sleep and worry, but they were now in Wallace’s capable hands, and the bastard would be a fool to attempt to get to Summer in here.

“I know why she was in the salon,” said Logan.

“And?”

“She’s bare…down there.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Max couldn’t wait to see that pretty sight.

* * * * *

Summer yawned, looked at Logan on the sofa and Max in the chair, and couldn’t hide her smile. The brothers were so cute, sleeping like little boys tuckered out from a day of rambunctious, mischievous playing. But she knew better. They were grown men with fierce, warrior mentalities and lots of determination thrown in. Hell, Max was the New York Shark and Logan the New York Highwayman. Most people went their entire life without a moniker. These two had earned a couple of the toughest.

A wayward lock had fallen across Logan’s forehead, and her fingers itched to smooth it away.

“I think she’s staring at us, bro,” said Max.

She glanced at Max, who had one eye open.

“I am. I wonder how the Shark and the Highwayman can look so innocent, when I know for a fact, you two are far from harmless.”

Logan stretched like a lethal cat. “And you love us that way.”

Summer rested her chin on her fist to ponder the statement and waited several seconds. “Hmmm. I think you are correct.”

“If we didn’t have a houseful, we’d show you right here on the couch,” said Max.

The spontaneity of being with them was something she craved, but people were dead, so impulsiveness would have to wait.

Logan grabbed her hand and rubbed her palm with his thumb. “Hey, it will be over soon.”

It amazed her how they could read her, knew what she felt, what she thought sometimes, and they weren’t even trained in the field.

Max stood. “Now, you have to eat. Mrs. Mattie left us manicotti and a salad.”

Summer smiled at the affection reflected in his voice. “Sounds great.”

They ate at the bar in the designer kitchen with its cherry cabinets and marble countertops.

“This is delicious. Is Mrs. Mattie a chef?”

“Nope, just a magnificent lady who knows how to cook,” said Max.

“Yeah, he’s the luckiest dog. Stole her before I had the opportunity to make an offer.”

“Sibling rivalry?”

“Of the worst kind,” said Logan.

For some reason, she could imagine them settling their disagreements with fists, which brought her back to what bothered her—crazy to even think this. They didn’t exhibit any jealous tendencies, so she was either not desirable enough to elicit the emotion, or they were totally, one-hundred-percent okay with this arrangement. Not that she considered herself a super catch, because she didn’t, but the whole dynamic was different, somehow. She, on the other hand, would claw a woman’s eyes out—literally—if they encroached on her brothers.

After they finished eating, she watched them load the dishwasher and clean the counter. “You two are gonna make some gals wonderful husbands.”

“Really? Why do you say that?” asked Max.

“You know how to clean a kitchen, you’re successful, extremely handsome, have super-fantastic bods, are hot as hell in bed… And I need to stop there before your heads swell.”

Max dried his hands and tossed the dishtowel on the strainer. “And you think you’re not worthy of us.” He leaned back on the counter, crossed his arms over his chest—a defensive position.

She held his beautiful gaze, tried to answer truthfully without showing her hand. “This is an experiment, a knowledge quest on my part.”

“And what about our part?” asked Logan.

“I don’t know exactly what you two get out of it.” They could have anybody.

“Because you…?” asked Max.

“I don’t have a pedigree, am not well-traveled or well-rounded, socially. Your parents will tell you I’m not a good fit for either of you.”

Logan’s nostrils flared. “Don’t try to guess what our parents would say.”

His voice was low, vibrated like a growl. The vein at his temple pulsed. This, she expected from Max, not Logan.

“I didn’t mean to offend, but I’m basin’ it on normal maternal and paternal characteristics. Hell, because of me, your names are bein’ thrown around in the same sentence as a serial killer. No parent would want that for their children.”

“Our parents will love you,” said Max.

His voice was low, filled with some emotion she couldn’t identify.

“I don’t want to meet your parents. Guys, this is temporary. An experiment.” God, it hurt her to utter those words, almost made her lose her lunch. She was…fond of them. They made her light-headed, gave her that feeling a woman got when the pheromones kicked in and everything was new and exciting.

But everything new grew old, and when the chemistry she acknowledged existed between them died, she’d document her experience, probably cry a river, and remind herself how fortunate she was to have known such remarkable men.

She had to protect her heart.

Her mama always said to expect less, and you won’t be disappointed.

Max slouched against the counter, but she sensed the tension in him. Logan’s jaw ticked.

“I’ve upset you,” she said.

“Maybe we want to be more than an experiment,” Logan ground out.

She could only hope, but she wasn’t one to delude herself. “Hey, let’s just agree to disagree. I like you two. I really do, but I don’t like to argue, especially about emotions, which aren’t controllable things.”

She wanted to point out they didn’t have a choice in the matter but knew it was a waste of her time and energy.

“Hey. You promised a peek at the evidence.”

“Okay,” said Max. “But we’re not done with this discussion.”

“Yes, we are.” Summer hopped down from the stool and shoved her hands into her back pockets, but winced when her wound pulled.

“I think she needs a spanking,” said Max.

She smiled and followed them to the war room. Once inside, she scanned the room while men started rising from the floor, wiping the sleep from their eyes. Summer concluded that big and scary was a requirement for security work.

When they were all standing, Wallace said, “Look at their faces, memorize them. These are the only men you can trust. If someone shows up and says he’s a replacement, he’s lying. I will personally introduce any new person to you. Don’t open the door for anyone other than these people, understand?”

Summer tamped down on the laughter that threatened to bubble up. Dan was serious, and she understood what he meant, but he was so…so…intense. “Yes, sir.” She let her gaze wander to each face. “Okay, I got it. I appreciate you doin’ this.”

Then she glared at Max. “Which reminds me, how did Dan find me the other day?”

Max coughed and pulled on the collar of his shirt. “Yeah, well, about that…”

“I’m waitin’.”

“GPS on your cell.”

She was shocked, not because he’d spied on her, but because he could do it and do it so fast. “Well, I…”

Max held up his finger. “If we hadn’t tracked you, Wallace wouldn’t have been there for you when you needed him.”

“Someone on the sidewalk would have helped me.”

“Maybe. But I’m not apologizing,” said Max.

“Of course, you ain’t. You don’t know how.”

“Don’t give me that—”

“Wallace,” said Logan. “Do you have any other information she needs to know?” He winked at her. “And save my brother.”

The men laughed, and Wallace grinned.

“Seriously, we can protect you if you let us do our job.” He showed her the cameras, explained the men would be invisible most of the time, especially when they were out of the home.

She didn’t believe that, but if they wanted to say it, who was she to disagree?

“The only other thing I would suggest is you allow one of us to teach you some basic self-defense tactics.”

“After her arm gets better,” added Logan.

“Sure. Now, catch me up on the case.” She purposely moved to the first board, where Margo’s photo and crime scene pictures were pinned. Walking down the line, she evaluated the photos of the messy missives left at each crime; some mentioned her name, and some didn’t.