Cabin Fever (14 page)

The instant response warmed his heart. He licked the shell of her ear. “I’m not playing with you. This is serious. We’ll take it slow. Just don’t shut me out again. Take some time to think about it.”

Her eyes held fear and longing. “I’ll think about it.”

That was the most he could hope for. He kissed her, unable to continue holding her without loving her. Genevieve turned her head to the side and to keep her from arguing just for the hell of it, Alex latched on to her ear, nibbling it just the way he knew she liked. “I want to make love to you, but I don’t want to be otherwise occupied if we have any more uninvited guests.”

Her hand stroked over his neck, but she might as well have squeezed his cock. “That guy’s gonna be out for a while.”

Reluctantly, he disengaged. “Still. Why don’t we take a break from sex until all of the bad guys have been carted off?”

Her brow furrowed in disappointment, but she nodded. He pressed her head against his chest. “Sleep.”

Alex held Genevieve until his arms fell asleep. Then he picked her up carefully and laid her out on the mattress.

She was in a deep sleep, but nonetheless, he tried to be as quiet as possible as he went into the back room. He hated to leave her for even a minute. He wanted to stand guard over her sleeping body with a machine gun.

However, he needed clothes, and he’d noticed another pair of sweatpants in the storage closet he’d looked through earlier. He didn’t want to put on anything that had come into contact with Leonie. That rat bastard. Genevieve wanted to talk about guilt? He was going to have nightmares that she had marched right out in the dark to confront a man he’d led to her doorstep.

He winced a bit to think of what his old buddies on the force would say if they knew a woman had taken the initiative because she’d thought his soul too pure to shoot another person. Alex’s mouth firmed.

Nobody would know Genevieve had been the one to shoot Leonie. He’d make sure of it. Not for his ego, he was damn proud of her, but because he wouldn’t have even a shadow of that ugliness touch her. It was what he deserved for sleeping through this. He hadn’t been able to save his partner; he hadn’t been able to protect Genevieve. At the very least, he could do this much for her, even if he had to gag or threaten her into sticking with his version of events. Since Leonie would probably survive the night—and wasn’t that a shame—he’d rather be the target of any more vengeance schemes.

Alex rifled through the boxes, finding nothing but women’s clothing. He shoved the boxes back in and started to go through the containers on the top shelf. Genevieve had suffered enough at the hands of other people in her life. She didn’t deserve any more hurt.

Alex felt the tide of rage rising again, thinking of his predecessors actions. Someone must have known what the previous chief and his cronies were up to, and he was sure rape was just one of the sins to be laid at the man’s feet. For sure, he’d be rattling some cages when he got back to town. And God help the people who had participated, however indirectly, in hurting his Genevieve.

He wanted to dig the man up and kill him again. Genevieve had seemed to think he would be disgusted by what she had done. Wrong. He held no illusions about small-town politics, and the truth was Bainsworth may never have served time for his crime. Plus, Alex’s blood chilled to think of what three men could have done to her tiny body when she came across them had she not had a bit of magic up her sleeve. If she’d had a gun or a taser, he wouldn’t have faulted her for shooting the three men. The only thing that sucked was that it had taken her mother away from her. Whatever deity or council had given the Boden women their power sure had a bastard of a safety clause on how they could use it.

Finally, Alex found another pair of sweatpants that he might have a chance in hell of squeezing into. Wearing clothes after this week might take some getting used to, he thought with humor. Hell, he could probably be back in his jeans as early as…tomorrow. Once morning broke, he’d see if he could track down Leonie’s vehicle. He’d quickly patted the guy down after Genevieve had done her magic with him, but no keys had been in his pockets.

He backtracked to the main room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Where before the thought of leaving Genevieve had made him extremely melancholy, he wasn’t that sad anymore. Sure, she hadn’t given him a concrete commitment, but they’d made progress this evening.

He sat next to the door, the handgun gripped firmly in his hand. Not the semi-automatic he’d hoped for, but it would have to do. Now that he knew he wouldn’t freeze where Genevieve’s safety was concerned…well, anyone who tried to hurt her wouldn’t last long.

“
T
alking to you is exhausting
.”

“Maybe in a few years it won’t be so bad.” He studied her with a devilish glint in his eyes and stroked a hand over her leg where it rested on his stomach.

She was fully aware he was goading her, but she was too wrung out to rise to outrage. “I swear, you would argue with a post until it came around to your way of thinking.”

“That’s what my mom says. You’re going to love her.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d slept for about an hour, and then they’d spent the next couple of hours talking and teasing in bed, resisting getting up and facing reality. If she didn’t know they had a killer locked up in her old shed, they would have looked like any other normal couple. A feeling that Alex was encouraging, in his suddenly relentless campaign to have her agree to a long-term relationship.

It was looking more and more attractive, no doubt about that. If it weren’t for that insistent voice in her head screaming of responsibility and sacrifice, it would be a no-brainer.

A rumble of noise distracted both of them and a dimple popped into his cheek. “Hungry?”

Genevieve shrugged. “Guess so.” She sat up and wrapped a sheet around herself. “Let me make something quick.”

“I can help too.”

“Great.”

They set about pulling eggs and ham from her small fridge. Not ten minutes later, Genevieve discovered something new about herself.

She didn’t like anyone in her kitchen.

“That pan isn’t Teflon.”

Alex looked up from the egg he was about to crack. “That’s okay, I can just scrape it off.”

Genevieve stared at him. “Scraping ruins the pans.”

“But if it isn’t Teflon, why do you care?” He cracked the egg and dropped it in the pan, breaking the yolk. “Oops.” He beamed at her. “Sorry, I know you wanted fried. I can eat this one scrambled. I’ll have better luck with the next one.”

“No,
I’ll
have better luck with the next one. Go sit.”

Alex seemed surprised. “But I’m a decent cook!”

“You said you were a terrible cook.”

“Any idiot can make eggs.”

“Your eggs are burning, smarty.” She stifled a laugh when he swore and lifted the pan from the burner. Edging him aside, she took the abused breakfast away from him. “I’m an excellent cook, Alex, and if I had the choice, I’d rather eat food that’s excellent. So go make us a little place on the ground where we can sit and eat. And cuddle.” She tacked on the end of the sentence to motivate him and snatched the spatula away.

Alex reluctantly returned to the floor and made them a nest of pillows and blankets. While flipping the ham, she prevailed upon him to at least wrap a sheet around himself. Alex grudgingly complied, only when she claimed she would be too distracted to eat, which was half-true. To reward him, she did give him a quick cuddle before sitting down with him and the food.

“Next time, I’ll cook for you.”

Genevieve smiled and spread some egg yolk on her toast. The man couldn’t resist his caretaking streak. “I don’t mind you cooking as long as it’s not in my kitchen. With my pans.”

He pursed his lips. “Well, it’ll probably be safer on your stomach if I order out. I guess I may have stretched the truth a little when I called myself a decent cook. I can do cereal and oatmeal okay, but my brother swears the mac and cheese I made for his birthday picnic made him sick for a week. I’ll put the food on the plates for you, though. Or if you’re good, I’ll volunteer to be the plate.” He bobbed his eyebrows comically.

She chuckled, feeling more lighthearted than she could remember. She tucked away the thought that this could be their last meal together here. In his company, the simple food tasted gourmet, and between the frequent kisses and caresses, it took a while to empty their plates. He started to help her when she picked up their dishes, but she brushed his hands away. “I’ll just soak these and wash them later.”

He relaxed, the happy light still in his eyes. “So I guess next time I’ll be doing the dishes too.”

Genevieve snorted. “Frankly, I don’t mind if you do the dishes
every
time.”

She realized what she had said when the silence stretched out. She looked over her shoulder. Alex studied her with a small, knowing smile.

“I didn’t mean to imply…I mean, that we’d be together…”

“I know exactly what you meant, baby. No pressure, remember?”

She returned to her small sink, almost near tears at his gentle understanding. How easy it would be to fall into this routine, to imagine them together, eating meals and doing dishes. But how would she fit into his life when they were in his world?

She looked at the window, where dawn’s light had seeped around the edges of the curtain. She needed some time to compose herself and come to grips with whatever this was between them. She walked over to her bureau, grabbed her clothes and dressed.

“Where are you going?” he asked, scowling as he sat up.

“I know it’s weird, but most people wear clothes even if they’re inside the house, Alex.”

“If you lived with me, that would be the first rule to go.”

She forced a smile. “But you’re right, I’m going outside. It’s morning. We should see about finding that car and getting that…you know, the man taken care of.” Ugh, in all of the upheaval, she’d practically forgotten about the killer on her land. She was glad she didn’t have to deal with his death, but man, she wanted him locked away and gone.

She grabbed her coat from the door. “I’m going to go feed Barney first. Poor guy’s probably starving by now. Why don’t you stay here?”

“What? No way. We stick together until the cops come collect Leonie and fully search the woods. I’m sorry, honey.” He held up his hands, no doubt in response to the irritation on her face. She so was not used to someone telling her what to do. “Look, I think I’ve pretty much proven what an accommodating guy I am. Hell, I’m sure most people are going to call me henpecked. But when it comes to your continued good health, I’m afraid I’m going to be a bit of an ass. You might be a crack shot, but you aren’t going out there again without me. Period.”

Genevieve gave a gusty sigh. The obstinate set of his jaw told her this was one battle she wouldn’t be winning. “Fine.”

He dressed in another ancient pair of sweatpants he must have found in her storage closet, and she found him a huge men’s T-shirt she sometimes used in the summer to sleep in. Despite the ridiculousness of the outfit, Genevieve felt a pang of sadness. She’d gotten used to her naked hunk wandering around, or when he was in the sheet, her gentle gladiator. Genevieve shook off the poetic thought. “You can’t walk around in the snow with no shoes.”

“Way ahead of you.” He picked up a huge pair of tattered sneakers next to the chair. “I don’t know why you had these in your home. They’re too big for me, but I’ll take them.”

“I don’t know either. I’m a packrat. I’m impressed you found them. Now tell me you found a coat somewhere.”

“Nope.” He picked up her handgun, tucked it in the waistband of his sweatpants and wrapped a blanket around himself. “This’ll have to do. I’m used to much colder weather. This is really nothing to me.”

She grabbed her rifle and opened the door. The cold was nowhere near as freezing as it had been over the past couple of days. Good for the roads, bad for her heart. She tried to sound light. “Tough guy.”

“I have to be, or you’ll walk all over me.”

They checked the shed first, Alex going in ahead of her with his gun cocked. Leonie was still out cold. The place was freezing, but when she mentioned that fact to Alex, he just gave her an incredulous look. “He’s lucky he’s alive and not in the snow. I’ll be damned if I let you give him so much as a blanket.”

She hid a smile. “I think you misinterpreted my tone. I didn’t mean, ‘Awww. His wittle toes must be cold!’ I meant, ‘Sweet, he must be cold.’”

“I’m glad to hear that. You had me wondering where my tough woman had gone to.”

They continued to banter as they walked to the barn. He stopped as they reached the barn, his expression dissolving into bliss as he inhaled deeply of the smoke and apple scent in the air. He looked out into the distance and Genevieve followed his gaze, trying to see her home as he saw it, a dot of civilization wrestled from the tangled wilderness around it. Tall and mighty, the trees stood like sentinels guarding her little clearing—she knew each of them, had played within their shelter as they grew with her. The sun was just starting to rise above the horizon, splashing fingers of crimson and burnt umber over the woods, colors so bright they almost hurt the eye. “It’s beautiful, Genevieve.”

She nodded and swung open the door to her little ramshackle barn. “See? There are upsides to living here. That right there makes up for a lot of problems.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunrise like that.”

“Yeah, you can almost feel it, can’t you?” Genevieve walked into the barn, sensing Alex behind her. “Come meet Barney,” she said over her shoulder. The old horse, hearing his name and her voice, poked his brown head over the stall door, ears pricked.

“Uh, I can just wait here while you do…whatever you need to do.”

She turned to look at him standing just inside the barn door. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of my old horse?”

He fidgeted and then scowled. “Of course not. I’m just enough of a city boy to appreciate that you shouldn’t be too close to something that could crush you just by lifting a foot.”

Genevieve laughed and entered the stall. Barney nudged her and then tossed his head in displeasure. “I’m sorry, baby. That man outside has me so turned inside out I forgot to bring you a treat. Next time, okay?”

Barney whinnied. She buried her face in his soft brown coat and gave him a hug to make up for her forgetfulness before starting to clean up, humming under her breath.

Had Barney not been so quiet, she would have missed the thud from outside the stall. She frowned and looked up. “Alex?” she called out. “Did you knock something over?”

Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed the rifle propped against the stall door before she walked out, the remnants of sun sending rays of light through the many cracks and holes in the barn’s roof. A crimson shaft haloed Alex where he sprawled on the ground, mixing with the blood pooling under his head.

For a second, she felt her head spin with déjà vu. “Alex?” she whispered.

“Well now, sugar, this is quite a surprise.”