Craving a Hero: St. John Sibling Series, book 3 (14 page)

His fingers moved among hers. "Sure. Someday I'll want a bunch of them. It's great growing up in a big family."

"
Someday
, but not now."

His fingers stilled within hers. "I love my nephew and I look forward to Tess and Roman adding to my uncleness. Hopefully, Dixie and Sam will add to the family tree soon, too. Kids are fun little people and I love watching them explore and discover new things. Good huggers, too. Makes a guy really feel what it is to be part of a family."

"But they're not for you just yet," she pressed.

He rolled onto his side without releasing her hand and looked down into her eyes, his dead serious. "There's a lot changing in my life right now, Bright Eyes. Kids aren't something I could commit to just yet."

She turned her head away, feeling foolish for asking him such an intimate question when she knew there was no future for them. Or, had she been hoping for an answer that would tell her he was ready for something more?

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before speaking again. "What's up, Kel? You saying you're ready for babies now?"

She waved him off with her free hand and forced a laugh. "I hadn't really thought about it. It's just, you seemed to have such a good time with Ben and you were so good with that little homeless girl…" She shrugged, giving herself time to regroup. "I was just wondering."

He tugged on her hand. "Someday."

She forced a smile. "I get it. Right now, you're having too good a time with this movie stuff."

His nod was slow and his eyes too serious.
Damn.
If he hadn't already seen right through her questions, he was on the brink of doing so. And if he did, he'd see how truly pathetic she was.

She grunted. "Really, I get it. You're still working out your life, planning it."

He gave her a gentle smile. "Roman's the planner in the family. I tend to just go with the flow. Whatever falls into my lap, I check it out. Heck, I never even gave acting a thought until a year ago when I was skiing moguls in Italy and some producer asked me if I wanted to be in a movie."

She couldn't bear the tenderness of his smile—the sympathy in his eyes—and she huffed to cover how much his sentiments hurt. "No wonder you relate so well with kids. You're still one yourself."

"That I am, and I'm not afraid to own up to it," he said, tucking her hand against his chest just above where his heart beat. "But I'm also adult enough to know my being gone months at a time shooting films doesn't make for good parenting."

A kid with the good sense to know he wasn't ready for parenthood. Give the man credit for knowing his mind and being honest about it.

#

They'd slept through the evening and the night, but were up before dawn the next morning, this time scouting the creeks for violators. Their conversation in the clearing by the lake was never far from Dane's thoughts. What she'd asked him had been important to her and he'd badly wanted to tell her whatever she wanted to hear.

But he couldn't; and, even if it was in his nature to be dishonest,
she
was too important to him to lie to. He'd told her the truth about how things were for him right now. Yet, he felt there was more he should have said, more he wanted to say. He just wasn't sure it was fair to tell her how he felt for her just yet.

"Here," she said, pointing out a couple brook trout in the brush above the creek bank. "It's a favorite tactic of violators. Toss them in the grass rather than put them in their creels and retrieve them later."

"So they don't get caught with too many if a CO checks on them," he said.

She nodded and they moved on, finding two more caches of trout in the brush before she stopped him and pressed the side of her finger to her lips. She cocked an ear at the woods upstream. Dane tried to hear what she was listening for, but all he heard was the babbling of the brook and the chatter of a squirrel.

She motioned him to turn around and herded him along the path they'd just come. She didn't speak again until they passed the first cache of fish she'd shown him.

"Our violator is on the move," she said in a low voice. "Coming this way, no doubt retrieving his catches."

Keeping his voice low as she steered him around a stony outcrop, he said, "You're going to nab him when he's got all the fish, huh?"

"I'll nab him when he's got all the evidence," she said and motioned him to follow her up the backside of the glacially carved rock slab cutting into the creek. Belly down at the top, they watched for their violator to appear.

It didn't take long before a lanky guy in well-worn jeans and a holy tee broke through the brush with a lidded bucket and headed for the hidden trout.

She shimmied back from the peak. Dane did likewise.

"It's Simo Tuome," she whispered. "Repeat offender. I'm going to have to take him in."

The small hairs at the back of Dane's neck prickled. "Is he going to be a problem?"

She shook her head. "He's okay, but you better watch from up here."

He nodded, though something about her suggesting he stay back niggled at the back of his mind. When she adjusted her sidearm, alarm bells went off.

He caught her by the arm, whispering when he wanted to shout at her, "If he's
okay,
what're you checking your sidearm for and why do I have to stay behind the rocks?"

"Wherever Simo is, his big brother Raimo's not far behind and he's done hard time."

He tightened his grip on her. "If Raimo's so dangerous he's got you checking out your gun, shouldn't you call for back-up?"

The hinge of her jaw popped, and she clenched her teeth hard. "He's nothing I can't handle on my own."

He eyed her narrowly. "You're not showing off for me, are you, Kel?"

"Showing off is your shtick, not mine."

The look she gave him as she peeled his fingers from her arm warned him against debating the issue further and, as if for good measure, she ordered, "Whatever happens down there, you stay put."

"Whatever happens?" he squeaked out.

She jabbed a finger in his face. "Stay or I'll handcuff you to that tree over there and you won't even get to see anything."

He caught her by the shoulders, leaned in, and gave her a quick kiss and a long look that pleaded for her to be careful. Her features softened a degree and she whispered, "On the off chance something does go wrong, haul your ass back to the truck and call for help. Do not, I repeat, do
not
come charging in thinking you're going to rescue me. This isn't the movies. The guns used here contain real bullets and if we both get put down, then neither of us gets help. Got it?"

Numbly, he nodded. Then she was gone and he was left there on the slab of rock trying to process the reality of what she'd just said. His every instinct screamed for him to go after her—protect her.

But she was right. He couldn't help her down there. She knew her job. Then there was that look she'd given him… Commanding. It said she was in charge—that she knew what she was doing and he reminded himself she was the real deal.

Still, he couldn't help thinking her father had been shot doing this job.

Dane shimmied back up to the crest of the rock from where he watched her approach Simo, his gut churning. Kelly must have said something or made some sound as Simo dropped his bucket. The din of brook cutting around rocks drowned out most other sound. He heard nothing of what she was saying and only an occasional plaintive word from Simo.

Simo's shoulders drooped, he turned his back to her and she cuffed him. She'd apprehended the guy just by talking to him. Impressive.

He let out a pent-up breath. Below, she glanced around herself then bent for the bucket Simo had dropped. That's when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

The guy charging from the woods hit her before Dane's warning shout had even left his mouth. Kelly and her attacker went tumbling toward the creek; and, for several anxious seconds as Dane scrambled down from the rocks, he was blind to what was happening to her. He bolted around the outcrop in time to see Kelly flip her attacker over her head into the creek. Instantly, she was in the water with the guy, one knee dug into his back between his shoulder blades as she tie-wrapped his hands together behind his back.

Hauling the guy onto his feet, she turned, and catching sight of Dane, growled, "I told you to stay put."

"I know. But he hit you so hard."

She pushed her apprehension onto the creek bank and climbed up after him, talking to Dane through clenched teeth. "I knew he was in the woods. I saw him coming."

"Sorry, but all I could think was there were two of them and only one of you and one of them had hit you, hard."

She paused in front of Dane, her face close to his. "He didn't hit me. I took him down with me."

"But what if the other guy…"

"Raimo," the first cuffed guy said, "you shoulda stayed in the woods. All they got me for is over the limit."

"Habitual offender," Raimo snarled out. "That's jail time."

Kelly pushed Raimo to his knees. "That's
only
jail time for him. Attacking an officer puts you back in prison."

She dug a key from a pocket and handed it to Dane. "Here. You want to be helpful? Unlock Simo's cuffs."

"Unlock them?"

If the look she gave him had been a knife, he'd have been skewered. "You still questioning me?"

"No, ma'am," he said, turning to Simo and unlocking his cuffs.

She held out her hand for the cuffs. Dane handed them to her. She slapped them on Raimo and lifted a tight smile at Dane. "Raimo's an expert at getting out of plastic wraps and we don't want to lose him."

She hauled Raimo to his feet and looked at Simo. "Do I need to put tie wraps on you or are you going to cooperate?"

"I'm coming along, ma'am."

#

She had her eight hours in and then some by the time she processed Raimo and Simo. Back in her truck and alone with Dane, she shook her head.

"Every time I think about you running into the middle of—"

"I know," he cut in. "I was stupid to come running."

"Dammit, Dane. You grew up playing alongside old minefields. You know better."

"But it was you, Kel."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I care a lot about you. When that guy hit you—"

She opened her mouth and he held up a silencing hand.

"You knew he was there, coming for you. But
I
didn't know that. I acted on instinct same as…"

"Same as what?" she asked.

He looked out the side window of the truck and sighed. "Luka was my best friend in Lithuania. I'd gotten a soccer ball for my birthday and took it out in the streets to play with my friends." He shook his head as though he were remembering. "I was so damn proud to be able to bring a real ball to our games."

His shoulders sagged. "But my friends weren't as familiar with the action of a proper soccer ball, let alone one properly inflated."

She caught the sadness in the look he cast her way. "The ball went into one of the fields my friends had warned me against entering."

She blurted, "You went after it?"

He shook his head. "No. Luka did." Dane closed his eyes. "And he stepped on a mine."

She reached over and placed her hand on his forearm. "Oh, Dane, was he killed?"

He shook his head. "But if someone hadn't gone after him and tied off the stump that was left of his leg, he'd have bled out before the adult emergency crew got to him."

"You went into that field after him, didn't you?"

He stared out the front window of the truck, his gaze unfocussed. "I used my belt as a tourniquet."

"I'm sorry, Dane," she said, squeezing his arm, reminded yet again how much more there was to the man than met the eye.

"I cared about him and I care about you," he said, turning his gaze on her. "And I do stupid, impulsive things when the people I care about are in danger."

"I got it."

"That's just the way I am. Stupid and impulsive."

She patted his arm. "You're not stupid, Dane. Impulsive, yes. But not stupid."

"Jury's still out on that one."

"Your friend, Luka, he survived?"

"Yeah." He gave her a wobbly smile. "Talk about stupid. He went after that damn ball because it was my ball and I was his friend; and, as he put it, he couldn't bare the sadness it would cause me to lose such a beautiful soccer ball.'"

They rode in silence, Kelly pondering what he'd just revealed of himself. And not just that he cared for her. This was a man who would risk his life for the people he cared about. What more could a woman want in the man she loved?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Loved? Yes, loved. There. She'd admitted it…at least to herself. She loved Dane. If she weren't such a coward, she'd have told him, too—talked to him about some kind of future. But, like he said, he wasn't into making plans.

Besides, she didn't want to waste a minute of their remaining affair on pleas or arguments, which any serious talk would no doubt lead to. Or not. He'd been gentle in his candidness about not being ready for kids.

In any case, she'd come off as pathetic and that wasn't how she wanted him to remember her. Then there was the very real possibility
pathetic
would poison the proverbial well of what they did have. The last thing she wanted was Dane making love to her out of pity.

The breakout of a forest fire the next day didn't help her dilemma, either.

For two days, they helped fight the blaze, taking breaks only allowing for a few hours' sleep at a time. Dane could have bailed—ended his
research
and taken an earlier flight back to his world. But he stayed.

"Never know when some crazy writing will throw the Hawke into a forest fire," he'd said during one of their breaks, grinning at her, his pearly whites bright against his soot-stained face.

"Then don't let them see how handsome you look in a hardhat and soot," she'd said back to him, then kissed him long and hard in the shadows behind her truck.

Friday night's moon rose full and bright. The best part of that, it could be seen. The fire had been contained, the hotspots covered, and smoke no longer filled the sky.

At camp, she and Dane stumbled out of the truck toward the cabin. They stopped outside the door, shedding their smoky clothing. And looked into each other's eyes, the message the same.

One night left together. Day after tomorrow, he'd board a plane and fly away.

He pulled her into his arms, his kiss hard and hungry. She answered in like. And, when he lifted her in his arms and carried her around the cabin to the cistern shower, she knew only that she wanted to spend every moment of whatever time they had left wrapped around him.

They doused themselves with tepid water and soaped each other's bodies with a thoroughness and tenderness that was meant to create a forever memory. Then, in the soft glow of moonlight, they peered into each other's eyes—explored each other's bodies. When she slid her leg up the outside of his thigh, he cupped her backside with his hands and lifted her onto him.

After two days of denial, their lovemaking should have been hard and hot. Instead they moved together like slow dancers—moved and touched and tasted, memorizing every nuance of the other's body.

The water was cold against their heated bodies when they rinsed themselves off, but neither cared. They had their shared warmth as they held each other beneath a lover's moon on a point so high it had been named for angels.

#

Dane and Kelly slept in on Saturday morning, a perk of having worked the fire almost nonstop for forty-eight plus hours. They took a swim in the pond in the afternoon and loved and dozed in the warm, green grass.

When they woke, they ate their way through a wild blueberry patch and she took him fishing. One pole of course. He didn't have a license. But she caught enough fish for supper.

Thus they shared their last day together, exchanging stories, laughing, talking about everything but the future—about what was coming the next morning.

Stomachs full of brook trout and supper dishes cleaned and stowed, they sat on the picnic table, their feet on the bench, she between his legs, watching the sun set over the valley beyond Angel Point. Their last together. Somehow, she'd found a way to accept it.

His arms tightened around her and she laid her head back against his shoulder.

"So beautiful," he murmured.

"I like the purples best," she said of the sky.

"I'm not talking about the sunset," he whispered in her ear. "I'm talking about you."

His words were the most intimate either of them had spoken all day and she swallowed against the lump it brought to her throat. "You make me feel desirable, Dane."

He brushed his lips across her ear. "Good, because you are desired."

Just not enough to stay—to tell me you love me.

She closed her eyes against the thought, blocking the tears she was determined not to shed in front of him.

"I don't want to leave you," he said.

Then don't.

"You believe me, don't you?" he asked, nudging the outside of her leg with the inside of his.

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring, "Talk to me, Bright Eyes."

She swallowed back her feelings best she could, venturing, "I don't want you to leave, either, but some things can't be avoided."

"Like me leaving."

"Uh huh."

"If the star of the movie doesn't show up, it'll cost the production company big bucks, not to mention a lot of people will lose their jobs."

"Can't shoot an action film without the hunky hero," she said, forcing a lightness into her voice.

She felt his smile stretch against her temple. "So you think I'm hunky?"

"Aarg, but you're such a middle child," she said, clutching at whatever humor she could find in the moment.

He pulled her closer, his chest tight against her back, his lips brushing her cheek. "I don't need that kind of reassurance."

"Of course not," she managed to quip. "You know you're a hunk."

She felt his smile slip. "If my next two movies bring in the kind of bucks the first one did, I'll be getting a whole lot more attention than that one paparazzi camping out in the motel room next to mine. Could you handle that?"

She shrugged. "What difference will it make? You'll be gone tomorrow. Out of my life."

"Kel, I don't want to be out of your life."

Her chest tightened but she kept her voice steady. "I work and live here. You work and live all over the world."

"Doesn't mean we can't keep in touch."

"Like a letter now and then? Maybe a phone call on special occasions…until the novelty wears off?"

"I don't think you're a novelty," he said, brushing his cheek against her. "And I'm thinking more along the lines of emails and texts."

"Sure. Type your fingertips off."

"You'll text and email me back, won't you?"

"Sure," she managed on a tight breath.

He nudged her. "Never know when I might need a little technical advice about checking a fishing license."

"Don't make fun of me," she said, stiffening, sounding more churlish than she intended.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to make light of a moment neither of us want to face," he said with a sincerity that nearly undid her.

She sank into his arms, wishing she could be as optimistic about their keeping in touch as he was. Everyone knew long distance relationships didn't work. Like what they'd been doing the past ten days could even be called a relationship.

No. She might as well get used to the idea right now that she'd had an affair of a lifetime—that maybe he'd text her for a week—or maybe not at all. In any case, any correspondence was sure to fade away with time.

#

The next morning, she stood with him beside his rental, her bare feet soaked with dew and her heart aching.

"I'll call when I can," he said, his voice quiet. "And email you."

She managed a small smile. "That would be nice."

"I'll text you every day."

"Sure," she said, the smile still fixed on her lips.

An unusual uncertainty flickered in his eyes, "You'll write back, won't you?"

"Of course."

He slipped a hand around her neck, palming the back of her head. They'd already kissed inside the cabin…and made love and kissed some more. She wasn't sure she could handle another good-bye kiss.

Pulling against his hold, she said, "You've got a long drive to the airport. You better get going."

But he didn't let her pull away. He leaned in and kissed her long, hard, and deep.

Then he was gone.

And she was left alone with her fear she would never hear from him again.