Beowulf: Explosives Detection Dog (22 page)

In the room, Timbrel hesitated, watching but not really
watching
him. He went straight to his gear, lifted it from the bed, and started for the bathroom.

“We need to clear out.
Now
,” Candyman said.

“Our flight’s not until tomorrow.”

“We leave
tonight
. If this man is trouble, the way you believe, then we are in danger.”

Timbrel quickly changed and packed her overnight bag. When she emerged, Candyman was ending a call. He stood and grabbed his pack.

“You got the flights changed?” Timbrel felt like she’d been caught red-handed—but at what?

“Yep.” That was the last word he spoke for the next four hours. Even the evening cicadas and humidity spoke louder than him. Their cab pulled to the curb and Timbrel shoved open the door. Beowulf leapt out and surged over the fence. Clearly, he had a job to do. Timbrel emerged from the taxi, exhausted, but pushed herself onto the sidewalk.

Keys jangled.

Over her shoulder, she saw Tony palming his keys as she let them into the yard.

Her heart fell.
What’s wrong? What’d I do?
Yelling she could handle. His razor-sharp wit, sure. But this icy silence …

Beo raced the circuit, checking, sniffing, detecting whoever had been in his territory while he was away. She stepped up on the wood steps and unlocked the house. A beeping alarm shoved her to the security keypad. She punched in the code and cleared the intrusion from the system.

When she turned around, Candyman headed for the door. Holding his helmet, he shouldered into his jacket as he pushed open the screen.

“Hey,” Timbrel said as she hurried after him. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Candyman stalked toward his bike and donned the helmet.

Out in the night, Timbrel stumped after him. “Why?” Her voice felt small and her heart heavy. “It’s nearly five—we’ve been traveling all night. You need to rest.”

He threw open the gate, zipping his jacket. “I’m fine.” As he put on the helmet, he stood at the bike, staring at the street.

“Candyman, please. Just … come back inside.”

“No need. If you want to kill yourself or put yourself in danger …” His hands dropped from fastening the helmet strap, and he hung his head. “I’m wasting my time. This is useless.”

Panic and hurt stabbed her. “I’m
not
useless!” Her words echoed down the street illuminated by lamps.

“No,” he said, his voice thick and the word forced. He yanked off the helmet. “That’s not what I said, and I would
never
say that about you. But talking to you, waiting till you figure out I’m here for you, that I will help—it’s like talking into the engine of a C-130. All noise.”

“What are you talking about?” Timbrel’s pulse pounded against her breast. She was finally making headway with him and they were already having a fight?

“You. I’m talking about you going into that man’s room and snooping.”

“So?”

Tony ducked, raised a hand to his head, but then lowered it. “You don’t get it. You seriously don’t get it?”

“If you want to make me feel stupid, you’re excelling.”

“Timbrel, that man—what did you suspect him of doing in Afghanistan?”

“WMDs.”

“Right. And now that you exposed yourself by going through his things, what does he know about you?”

Oh
. She licked her lips.

“Let me fill in the pieces for you. He knows you’re Nina Laurens’s daughter. And not only that, he also now knows who I am. And that means I’m compromised—the entire
team
is compromised. You drew attention to yourself when you should’ve left it alone.
Then
you go back and say you have to get the bag.” He snorted. “Do I really look that stupid to you?”

From her pocket she lifted a small gold necklace. Held it up. “This is why I went back.”

Tony covered his eyes then scruffed his face. “It doesn’t matter why.”

“I don’t understand.”

A sad smile tugged at his handsome face. “I know.” He shook his head. “I know. God help me, I know.”

Was he laughing at her? Mocking her? She took a step back. “I’m not stupid, Candyman.”

Like a tornado, he spun toward her. “Candyman? Timbrel, why can’t you call me Tony?”

She shrugged. “I’m just used to it. You don’t look like a Tony.” She took another step back. Breathing hurt.

“Bullpucky! You want to know why? Because using my first name makes me human. It makes me a person—and you can’t do that, can you?” His voice wasn’t loud, yet his words hollered through her head. “Being a man, being a guy who’s crazy about you makes
you
crazy, terrifies you!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she screamed, her pulse straining in her throat.

“Don’t I?” He angled his shoulder toward her. “Why is it every time a little light manages to creep into your world through me, you snuff it out?”

“Just because I don’t throw myself at you like other women, like Simone and Carla—”

“
Don’t
go there.” He stabbed a finger at her. “You
know
I don’t give a rat’s behind about those women. You’re the one I want. You’re the only one I think of, the one I want to be there for. I’d risk everything for you—and I did. Tonight.”

She tucked her chin as he ripped open her soul, her secrets, her fears. She traced the gold star that dangled from the chain. It blurred.

“You know why I’m here, Timbrel. Why I keep coming back, and if it’s too much for you, if you can’t go there, then tell me now.” In the blue glow of the street lamp, his chest heaved. “Because God knows I can’t keep doing this. It’s been a year. Four missions—I’m cemented to you more than I am many of my ODA brothers. But if you won’t let me in, if you throw away every peace offering—”

She turned, her throat tight and her vision awash with tears. “I can’t do this.”

He caught her elbow and pulled her around.

Beo barked and charged, his weight rattling the fence.

Timbrel gave him a silent hand signal, and only by that small gesture did she prevent the beast from scaling the fence. She stood toe-to-toe with Can—Tony. Her chin trembled, threatening more emotion. Tears. She hated weak-kneed women who cried at the drop of a hat. Lifting shaking fingers from the chain, she warred with the shifting of the universe happening right under her feet.

She touched Tony’s chest. Folding the chain in her fist, she pressed that too against his chest. “I … it’s … scary.” She sounded like a five-year-old. Braving a look up at him, she saw the reflection of her own torture in his gorgeous features.

“Let me in, or let me go, Tim,” he said, his soft words filled with a raw ache.

Let him in? There was only one way to let him in—right through the front door: truth. Her past, her nightmares, her failings … But if she did that, she might as well place grenades in his hands to blow any chance they had for a future.

But this was what he wanted. And she knew she had to go there. Had to open that vault. She could do this—for him. After all he’d done for her … Timbrel dropped her gaze, afraid if she looked into his pale green eyes, she wouldn’t be able to tell him.

She had to do this. Cross this line. Break the molds.

Timbrel eyed the line of his jacket zipper up to his neck. Thick. Strong. Tanned. His jaw. Muscle popping—was he ever
not
intense? To his mouth.

Timbrel slid her hand up the same path her eyes had taken. A fire erupted through her belly and chest as she angled her head toward him.

Tony closed the distance. Captured her mouth with his.

Her hand touched his face. Exhilaration raced through her.

Yet so did a terrible dark fear.

No. I can do this. I can
.

She pushed her arm up … elbow over his shoulder. A strange type of surrender enveloped her as her fingers curled into his short-cropped hair.

Tony crushed her to himself, deepening the kiss. His large hands held her tight. Melted into his passion, she let herself enjoy it. His strength. His raw power that had attracted Simone and Carla.
But he chose me. He believes in me
.

Carson Diehl believed in her, too.

Timbrel shuddered.

No
. She couldn’t go there. Couldn’t think of him.

Tony was better, stronger, had more character.

Carson had said he loved her.

“No,” she mouthed around the kiss.

Kisses were warm and tender.

Carson’s were demanding. More … more, till he pinned her.

“No!” she squeaked.

Tony broke off. Breathing heavy, he froze. “Timbrel, what’s wrong?”

She dropped her forehead against his chest. “I’m sorry.” She ruined it. She
was
useless. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Never. She couldn’t even kiss the one man she might be able to love without thinking of Carson. Or Don Stephens.

Her stomach heaved at the thought of her stepfather.

Frozen tundra had nothing on the drastic shift that occurred. “Tim, what is it?”

She shook her head and swallowed. She’d tasted sweet, felt incredible in his arms. Like the mystery to the universe had been solved right here. Right now. With her.

It took two seconds longer than it should have for her plea to make it through the fog of passion. But when it did, Tony had broken off.

“Okay. It’s okay.” Tony hesitated before holding her upper arms.

This fear, this panic that intruded on every quiet moment had to be a demon from her past. Or some jerk from her past. It infuriated him to think that someone had hurt her so badly and put her in this kind of shape.

When he drew away, she grabbed his jacket.

“Please …” Her voice almost didn’t register, but her fingers digging into his jacket sure did. She had a death grip on him. “Don’t … go.”

He didn’t move, afraid he’d scared her off. There’d been a lot of passion flying between them, but nothing he regretted. He hadn’t crossed lines. He’d kissed her long and hard, but it wasn’t out of control. Which was a minor miracle in and of itself. He could easily go too far when it came to her.

She shook against him.

Tony craned his neck trying to see her. But with her hair down and her face buried in his chest, he couldn’t see her. Sure felt like she was crying. “Hey.” He cupped the back of her head and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay.”

The tears grew harder.

Man, he’d kill whoever did this to her. “Easy there, babe. It’s okay.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight. Stomped her foot. “It’s not. They ruined me.
I
ruin everything!”

He bounced his pec in an attempt to get her to look at him. “Hey. Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. Okay? She’s the best thing that ever happened to this sorry world.”

Coming off his chest, she laughed. “You are a sap.” Swiped at her tears.

“As long as I’m your sap, I don’t care.”

Her smile squished into agony. “I can’t … I don’t …” Her voice squeaked. She stomped her foot again. Threw back her head and stared at the sky, inhaling deeply. Using both hands, she pushed the hair from her face. “I’m okay. Really.”

Tony quirked a brow at her.

She smiled. “All right, maybe not—but …” She bunched her shoulders. “Come and talk for a few minutes?”

He looked to the house, thinking of kissing her, and he knew there was a risk being alone with her. He’d had control a minute ago, but what would happen…? Especially at this hour.
God, give me strength
.

Though he gave her a nod, he made a resolution not to cross that threshold. So when he reached the stairs, he plopped down.

Beowulf was in his face. Sniffing. Snorting. And then he sneezed.

“Ugh!”

Timbrel laughed. “Sorry. I think he’s a little upset that you kissed me in front of him.”

Tony swiped the dog’s drool and snot from his face with his sleeve. “Well, he needs to get used to it.”

“Yeah?” Timbrel stared down at him. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“No, I think …” Yeah, so much for that control he’d been proud of a few seconds ago. “This is probably better.”

“Tony—”

He grinned. She’d used his name.

“It’s nearly five in the morning. People will be driving by.”

“You afraid they might see they have competition now?”

She swiped at his head. Then slowly eased down next to him, her expression serious. “Look, I want you to know …”

He wouldn’t give her an out by saying he didn’t have to know. If their relationship was going to progress, they had to get some things on the table.

Beowulf lumbered between them and kept going. Good. Maybe the hound of hell would go inside. Nope. Too much to hope for. The bullmastiff thrust himself into the middle and slumped down, a lot disgruntled. His eyebrows bobbed at Tony, as if to say, “What’re you looking at?”

“He’s jealous.” Timbrel rubbed Beo’s back.

“He’s not the only one.”

She laughed then hugged her knees. “Carson Diehl is the reason I left the Navy.”

The swift change of topic pulled his gaze to hers, but he veered off so she’d have the room to talk openly.

“I thought he hung the moon. My friends warned me, but I didn’t want to listen. I wanted to believe he liked me, for me.” She snorted and did this half-shrug thing he found adorable. “You’d think after being raped by my stepfather, I’d have learned.”