Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (3 page)

She shook her head.

His hands gripped the collar of the jacket, and he stepped close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from his body. Working narcotics had honed her sense of smell. From the pungent aroma of a meth lab to the more subtle odor of marijuana use on breath or clothing, she could identify a scent almost as keenly as a canine.

Cowboy smelled like pine needles and rain.

Even earlier in Buck’s, his clean, male scent had penetrated the chaos when he’d offered his shirt. But this second, stronger wave as he slung the jacket around her shoulders was almost like a drug. Obviously, her mental focus had taken a blow, but the buzz in her head ramped up a notch as he wrapped her in the warmth. Either the injury was worse than she thought, or he smelled intoxicating.

“Let me see what this looks like.” He gently brushed her hair from her forehead and blotted the cut with a towel. Looking deep in thought, he shifted around, studying her head from different angles.

For the first time, she had a close-up view of him. Buck’s was dark and smoky, but under the bright parking lot glare and the full moon, this man’s face mesmerized her.

She was all about the eyes. Her whole life, she’d believed a person’s eyes told the truth even when their words failed. His were a breathtaking metallic gray with the thickest lashes she’d ever seen. Hard to accept such stunning lashes ended up on a man.

Strong jaw, full lips, dark wavy hair just a tad too long. Definitely a total package. One a woman could easily lose herself in. Only by the time she realized she had, he appeared to realize it, too.

He smiled slowly and knowingly, as if he’d caught her with her hand in the cookie jar.

She was mortified. Her lungs tightened.

He broke the awkward silence to ask, “Headache?”

“Duh,” she said.

“Nausea?”

“Every night I work here.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. “Damn, woman. Are you always this difficult? Any vision problems?”

“Completely blind.” She closed her eyes and stretched her arms out in front of her to feel the air. Her hands bumped his chest.

“What color are my eyes?”

“Gray, okay? They’re gray.” Of course, she realized she hadn’t opened her eyes yet. When she did, he smirked with blatant male satisfaction.

“You’ll probably live,” he said.

So she knew his eye color. Big deal. Any good cop would’ve picked up on that. Not that she wanted him to suspect she was a cop. Damn, she needed to get rid of this guy.

“Look, you’ve been really nice coming to my rescue and giving me your clothes. I’ll make sure you get your shirt back, and you should take this.” She handed him the jacket. “I’m good now.”

He didn’t acknowledge her words, just moved behind her and gripped the hem of the denim shirt he’d buttoned around her. “I’m going to take a look at your back, okay?” Apparently interpreting her stunned lack of response for a yes, he raised the material and gently skimmed a finger across her skin where Lewis had kicked her. “You’ve got a bruise starting here.”

Heat radiated from the tender spot he touched, like a sip of brandy on a cold night. Great, that’s all she needed right now. She edged away from his touch. “Really, you can go enjoy the show. I’m okay.”

“I’m not here to watch the show, never was. You need stitches. And I’d feel better if someone looked at your back. Let’s get you to the ER.” He slipped his fingers under her arm.

“Hold on a minute, cowboy.” She pushed his hand away. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but surely you don’t think I’m gonna hop in a car with a guy I don’t know, much less let him take me to God knows where, do you?”

“Well, you could sit here and bleed to death, if you’d rather. And I hate to point out the obvious, but it doesn’t look like judgment is your strongest asset.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I didn’t do anything wrong. The guy kicked me when my back was turned.”

He backed up a step and threw his hands up in surrender. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t
look
sorry. He looked…pig-headed and irritated.

“I only meant…you, working here. You’re just, really…attractive. And all these guys are drunk.” He slung his jacket around her again. “And that outfit doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination.”

He stuffed her arms in the coat and this time zipped it all the way up to her chin. “Plus, you’re working for Arlo Buck. I think maybe you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“So, you think I need big, strong, handsome you to straighten me out?” Who the hell was he, and why on earth did he think she needed him to play protector? Another verbal lashing began to build, but the nausea and light-headedness returned with a vengeance.

“I’m fine. I am
not
going to a hospital. I
don’t
need stitches, and I certainly don’t need you to…” Even as she spoke, tunnel vision closed in, black and thick. She felt herself sway sideways off the picnic table. Just a moment before she hit gravel, strong arms closed around her.

Chapter Two

Jordan’s mom slid the pan from the oven. The scents of sage and onion overwhelmed the tiny kitchen. Hot and steamy air dripped with the aroma of turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie.

Mom’s special cheesecake sat on the countertop.

Jordan loved the holidays. Usually. But not today. She swiped the tears away with the back of her hands. “Something terrible is gonna happen, Mom. I don’t know when, but I saw it in my dream.”

Her mother turned and inhaled a deep, steadying breath, crossed the kitchen, and took Jordan’s face in her hands. “And that’s all it was, honey. Just a silly nightmare. You’ve got to stop this.”

“I’m not crazy.” Jordan stomped her foot. She needed to warn them. Needed to tell them he was coming. Why didn’t anyone ever listen? Because she was only ten years old? “You act like you don’t even hear me.”

Her mom snapped. “Enough. I’m trying to get ready for Thanksgiving. You and your sister promised to help, but now Katy’s in her room crying because of what you told her. You’ve scared her half to death. I’m sorry you had a nightmare, but I swear to God, Jordan, one more word and you’re grounded.”

“One more stitch and she’s all done. She should be coming around soon.”

Jordan didn’t recognize the voice.

Something squeezed her arm. A machine beeped. A warm hand touched hers.

Dad always held her hand.

Thanksgiving meant family movie night. “What movie are we watching tonight, princess?” Dad asked. “We’ve got
A Christmas Story, It’s a Wonderful Life
, and
Rudolph
.”

He crossed the bedroom and snuggled next to her when she silently shrugged. He brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear. “Your mom told me you had another dream. I guess it was a bad one?”

Jordan nodded.

“You want to tell me about it?”

This time she shook her head. If Mom heard her talk about the dream again, she’d get it for sure.

“Open your eyes, Jordan,” a voice said. A pungent, antiseptic smell overtook the sage. She felt a touch on her shoulder. “Come on, open your eyes. Jordan? Jordan?”

“Jordan, open your eyes,” Dad said. “I know you’re tired, but
A Christmas Story
is starting.”

She was tired and couldn’t care less about the stupid movie. She closed her eyes, needing to rest, just for a little while.

Violent pounding slammed against the front door. Recognizing the sound, Jordan bolted upright. She grabbed for her dad’s arm. Too late. He was already sprinting from the bedroom.

Screaming. Cursing. The front door burst open, and a blast of exploding wood vibrated through the tiny house.

She should have told Dad everything. Now it was too late to save him. To save them all.

She knew what was next. Because she’d seen it just the night before.

In her dream.

The blood pressure machine sounded two shrill beeps.

A hand touched her arm. Then she heard a man’s voice.

“Jordan. Jordan, wake up.”

She clawed her way back to consciousness, opened her eyes. Fluorescent lights blinded her, and the room whirled like one of those sickening, spinning carnival rides. Squeezing her eyes tight, she fought the urge to throw up.

Fingers moved over her hair and stroked her cheek. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. A little knock on the head, that’s all.” The deep rasp of the voice, silky and sure, calmed her like a warm blanket. Comfort spread in all directions.

Briefly, an image of her father smoothing back her hair and holding her after a nightmare centered in her mind. He’d been her hero at one time, quick and skillful at easing her fears. Too bad he hadn’t been nearly as noble when it came to the rest of his life. But she’d moved past her daddy issues long ago. Plus, the son of a bitch was dead. So who the hell was stroking her cheek?

She pushed away the hand touching her. The last thing she needed was someone’s pathetic attempt at comfort. Especially when she’d been reliving
that
night again. The night daddy dearest had made them all pay for his mistakes.

Keeping her eyes squeezed tight, she drew in a few deep breaths. Sometimes a little air could bridge the gap between the dreams and reality. After a few seconds, she remembered where she was and what was going on. She had a vague recollection of doctors, a scan, stitches.

Her father could always smooth away all the rough edges after a dream. But he was gone. Dead.

So who was here with her?

“The nurse should be here in a minute.”

Finally, she dared to open her eyes. It was the guy from Buck’s. The one she’d dubbed “cowboy.” The last thing she needed was for him to see the aftereffects of a dream, particularly that dream. Thank God she woke before the worst of it.

She lightly rubbed the bandage on her head.

“Seven stitches,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. After they scanned your head and knew everything was okay, they gave you a little something to take the edge off the back pain. It must have made you tired.” He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand.

It might have been an innocent gesture, but it didn’t feel that way. Every sensation dulled except where their skin touched. Like a shock from a live wire, a current buzzed from his body into hers. She inhaled sharply and looked at him.

His gaze held her captive.

For several long, mesmerizing moments, she floundered, trapped in his cool, steel-colored stare. If she hadn’t been caught in the dregs of the pain medicine, she’d have had the good sense to look away. When noise drifted in from the hall, she jerked her hand back as if she had been scalded.

The odd jolt intensified the thump in her head, and it took a few seconds for speech to return. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

But she very clearly remembered the sinful blue jeans and the dark hair that curled just over his collar. The way his thick chest filled out a plain, white tee would forever be seared in her mind. But his name…his name escaped her.

“I’m Tyler McGee. Everyone calls me Ty. And as far as the nurses are concerned, I’m your big brother.”

“I don’t have a brother.”

He shrugged and smiled. “You do now.”

She eyed him from top to bottom and back up again, deciding it was most likely the killer smile, rather than the lie, that had gained him access to her room.

His grin grew wider. He looked amused at her thorough inspection.

Why
had
she studied him as though he was the main course at dinner? Her cheeks flushed hot. “Well, Ty, thanks for everything, but I can manage from here.”

Leaning against a countertop, he folded his arms. “Yeah, you’re in great shape. You plan on jogging home with your head injury or just taking it slow and hitchhiking?”

Ah, yes. Now she remembered
. He was truly as handsome as the devil but also as cocky. He’d probably only said about ten sentences before she passed out, but if her memory was coming back accurately, most of them were condescending.

“I’ll call a cab,” she snapped.

He chuckled. “In Titus? Sweetheart, where are you from? It sure isn’t around here.”

He strode to the bed then leaned in close as though he was letting her in on a dangerous secret. “In case you haven’t noticed, Titus isn’t exactly a thriving metropolis. We don’t have taxi service or buses. The closest thing to public transportation is Dan the Scooter Man. He makes a fortune driving people home from the bars. You want his number?”

The laughter and amusement in his ridiculously beautiful eyes could’ve been contagious, except he was laughing at her. “I’d prefer Dan’s scooter over being driven home by someone who thinks I’m an idiot. It’s your fault I’m here anyway. Some things are a little foggy, but I seem to remember saying no hospitals.”

“You scared the hell out of me.” Frustration jumped in his voice. “You passed out behind Buck’s. What did you want me to do with you? Leave you under the picnic table?”

He had a point. Didn’t mean she had to like it. “I’ll call Buck; he’s been really nice to me. He’ll send someone, so you can go.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky, and Lewis will be available.” He was quick with the comeback, but all his amusement had faded. Irritation and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a bit of anger swept across his handsome face. He leaned against the edge of her bed and picked up her hand again.

She was prepared this time. Just because the man had the eyes of a god did
not
mean Jordan Delany would get stupid.

He held on tight when she attempted to jerk away and silenced her with one finger on her lips.

“Jordan,” he said, apology unmistakable in his voice, “I was only yanking your chain, honey. But I’m sorry, because I know you don’t feel well. I’ll drive you. You wouldn’t rather have a stranger from the bar take you home instead of me, would you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I hate to point out the obvious, cowboy, but you
are
a stranger from the bar.”

“But I’m the stranger who brought you to a hospital when you were completely at my mercy. I could’ve taken you to some remote cabin and chopped you into little pieces. Don’t I get any points for not doing that?”

The man’s smile just killed her.

“Look, I’m here. I’m not doing anything else. You may not believe me, but I used to be a cop over in Longdale. I’ll take you home unless you’re truly worried about me being some kind of axe-carrying murderer. If that’s the case, I’ll call one of my buddies, a policeman, to give you a ride home.”

“You were a cop?” Well now, wasn’t that interesting? Maybe she’d let Mr. Tall, Dark, and Arrogant take her home after all. An ex-cop probably had several solid nuggets of information tucked away about the good people of Titus. Tyler McGee could be a connection worth exploring.

A nurse walked into the room. “Miss Brooks, Dr. Yew would like to admit you for observation. Your wound was fairly minor and shouldn’t cause any problems, but we never take chances with head injuries.”

Great. A hospital admission meant paperwork and explanation. It was bad enough being brought to the ER. What kind of idiot got knocked in the head like this? She’d held her own with murderers, drug traffickers, thieves, and addicts, but drunk Lewis had smoked her. It was embarrassing.

She could blow off stitches, but a stint in the hospital would have to be reported. “Well, I’m feeling much better, so I think I’ll just get dressed and go home.”

“If you do, it’ll be against medical advice,” the nurse told her. “You’ll need someone with you for twenty-four hours, at least.”

“Oh, my brother can do that.” She smiled at Ty. “Right, big brother?”

The smugness drained from his face, and his eyes opened wide. “Ah…well…Is she going to be okay? What do I need to—”

“I’m fine.” She had to stop him before anything really stupid rolled out of his mouth. Apparently, he wasn’t a crazed killer. Honestly, the man couldn’t even lie himself out of a hospital room. “You don’t need to do anything.” She turned to the nurse. “Please get my paperwork, so I can leave.”

The nurse looked back and forth between them, then turned and left.

Jordan tugged off the blood pressure cuff and tossed back the blanket. “Could you turn around? I’m in a hospital gown here.”

“Turn around? You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s the most clothes I’ve seen you in.”

She glared.

“All right, all right.” He turned away.

“You suck at lying.” The ground shifted side to side as she slid to her feet. She grabbed the bed’s side rail to keep from falling.

“Some women might consider that a good thing.” He peeked over his shoulder and whipped around, steadying her with his hands on her hips. “Are you kidding me? Damn, woman, you ever been tested for a balance problem? Inner ear issues, maybe?”

“Shut up, cowboy,” she snapped. “It’s been a hell of a night.”

“Tell me about it.” He chuckled. “
You
certainly didn’t have any problems ripping off a convincing lie.” His hold relaxed, but his fingers lingered on her hips. “Seems to me like you’ve had a lot of practice at it.”

…

The success or failure of undercover work rested solely on a cop’s ability to become someone else, to completely morph into an alien persona. And sometimes, particularly in a small town like Titus, the living arrangements could prove as tricky as the new identity. Everything had to fit.

As such, Jordan’s driver’s license now read Jordan Brooks rather than Jordan Delany.

Her cover was a college student waiting tables at Buck’s. Of course, college students didn’t typically own homes or drive expensive cars. She had no problem with the four-year-old Accord. She also didn’t care that her wardrobe had been overhauled for a younger, sexier appearance. And bravely, she’d endured the sting of the piercing in her navel.

What had come as a shock was the apartment. Turned out that furnished living arrangements—available in Titus and conducive to her cover—weren’t all that plentiful. The result was an odd little place in a small complex that leaned toward the lower end of the income spectrum. The place wasn’t fancy, but it worked.

“You still with me?” Ty asked, pulling into her parking lot. “You look tired.”

“Yeah.” Jordan forced a smile. She was tired, but rest wasn’t going to come easy tonight. Her back had been hurting, and the hospital had offered her a mild pain reliever. She should have known better than to take it; even a simple aspirin tended to screw with her dreams. And true to form, she hadn’t even made it out of the hospital before the ugliness began. “Ty, thanks for the ride and the trip to the ER and the shirt. If I see you in Buck’s, your next couple of drinks will be on me. Good night.”

She opened the door to make a clean getaway.

He turned the engine off and was on her side of the truck, easing her out, before she had a chance to protest.

“Look, I appreciate everything, including letting me stop by Buck’s to get my purse and keys. You’ve been more than generous, but I’ve got it from here. Good night.”