One Last Hold (9 page)

“Go ahead. Won’t stop us from searching your house, though.”

The officer thumbed through one of the boxes that Wesley hadn’t moved from the corridor yet. The box held racing memorabilia, and Wesley’s gut clenched as they haphazardly filched through his belongings.

He’d play their game...for now. They wouldn’t find anything here. But in the back of his mind, worry gnawed at him. They’d found enough to secure two search warrants: one for his RV and one for his home. It was time to stop ignoring the problem.

He called an old friend from law school. Jacob had gone into criminal law and they’d kept in touch over the years. Jacob promised he’d look into things for him, but Wesley had a hard time trusting anyone. The last thing he needed was the media alerted about the search warrants.

Pissed him off. This wasn’t the way he wanted to spend the first day in his new house. Though he’d still spend most of his time on the road and in his RV, this was his home, built with his hard-earned money, something to relax in and enjoy when he wasn’t working. And these officers were tainting it with bad memories.

After Sikes glanced through a box laden with DVDs and video games, Wesley took the box into the den and unloaded them. He rarely had time for television, but lounging in a dark room with a movie or video game was one of the best ways, besides sex, to relax.

One of the officers tromped upstairs. How much should he trust them not to plant evidence, anyway? He didn’t trust them. Didn’t trust anyone at this point.

“Mr. Webb?” Wesley unfolded his legs from their position on the floor.

“Yeah?”

“That’ll be it for now,” Sikes said.

“Find anything of interest?” Wesley asked, making sure to express his derision.

“We’ll keep in touch.”

*

The sun gleamed with hatred for the cold, touching everyone with vivid warmth at an attempt to melt the last vestiges of snow. The wind whipped Caitlyn’s coat open as she hastened to the rental car.

She dug in her purse for Wesley’s address as defrost began its work. The car idled as she entered the address in GPS, then made her way down snow-slicked streets.

The scenery of cars and buildings soon became trees and mountains. Patches of snow covered the roads outside the city limits and her slow drive gave her a chance to revel in the greenery of the pines and the picturesque beauty of the mountains.

Snow was rare in Austin, and if the city was blessed with it, it lasted only a few hours and rarely more than once every few years.

She turned onto a mountainous road and up a gradual incline. White ornamented the trees, the thread thickening as the elevation climbed. She longed to get out and play for a while, to feel the soft powder on her hands.

As she drove, she second guessed her bravado.
Turn back,
she thought as the roads narrowed. She fought her way up through vales of trees. Canyons plunged beyond her sight until another mountain picked them up on the other side. If the car slipped off the road into the gully below, she’d never be found.

How far up this mountain did he live? GPS alleged ten more minutes but at her pace, she doubted its accuracy. She shivered as images of her car buried deep in the snow with her in it anchored her mind in doubt.

She wasn’t confident in her ability to drive if the roads got worse. She tried one last time to reach him on her cell, but he still didn’t answer.
Shit.
Adam had told her Wesley was home today, but what if he wasn’t?

Flakes of snow fell as she spotted a house in a clearing of trees. She parked in the driveway, praying it was Wesley’s home. He had company and smoke rose from the grill, indicating he was cooking barbecue. Caitlyn, suddenly uneasy in her decision to come here, sat in the car.

Two men emerged from the house, with Wesley right behind them. Although they wore plainclothes, she recognized the badges hanging around their neck.

Wesley glanced her way and frowned. She shut off the engine and opened the door, stepping out as Wesley shook one of the officer’s hands. She stood by the door a moment, waiting for him to finish his conversation and using the time to study her surroundings.

More cops? She didn’t understand.

He couldn’t have chosen a better site for his new home, creviced between gently sloping hills plunging into deep fertile valleys threaded with silken snow. Pine trees loomed above, ahead, and beyond her scope and fragments of diamonds brushed the vegetation in all directions. Crags of foliage and blue skies reached out to her.

“What are you doing here?” Wesley asked, striding over to her as the officers left.

Even in the face of adversity, he was stunning.

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I tried to call. I hope I’m not imposing.” She indicated the SUV leaving and saw that, even though there was no light bar up top, police insignia blazed the door.

Wesley turned and loped to his covered deck, opening the grill to check whatever was underneath. Her stomach gurgled at the scent of orange, ginger, and pepper.

Squatting, she picked up a handful of snow and crumbled it between her fingers. “Smells good, whatever you’re cooking.”

“Dinner,” he snapped.

She shouldn’t be here. She knew she shouldn’t be here, and he obviously wasn’t happy about it. She rose to her feet and strolled towards him, clutching a ball of snow in her hand, snow crunching under her feet and the melodious chatter of birds the only sound. No traffic, no sirens, no voices maiming every space. “Like I said, I tried to call several times,” she continued, intending to make things better with an apology.

Wesley shrugged and flipped the meat. “Since you’re here, you might as well stay for dinner. I’ll grab another potato from the house.”

He closed the grill and walked inside. Caitlyn dropped the ball of snow to the ground and wiped her hands on her jeans before following him inside.

“My house was finished this past week,” he said. “I’m still working on moving in.”

“It’s beautiful.”

She stepped across a snow-white tiled entry, bordered by a dark green area rug. Large picture windows highlighted the shattered rays of the sun.

“Beautiful,” Caitlyn said. “Plants would love this area.”

“I don’t have time for plants.”

Ignoring his attitude and determined to make the best of this situation, she followed him into the kitchen. Admired the vibrantly colored stone countertop as she deposited her purse on it. With the news she was about to give him, his attitude would worsen.

Windows loomed all around his home, creating a magnificent view of the world outside. The kitchen and dining area was bare save for a wooden dining table, two barstools at his kitchen island, and a few unpacked boxes set against the wall.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Today’s my first day. The house was only finished last week.”

“Oh.” Caitlyn retrieved the newspaper from her purse and handed it to him. Might as well get down to business. “I thought you might want to see this.”

Wesley snatched the paper and paled as he read the headlines.

“I’m sorry,” she continued. “I had nothing to do with that. I don’t know how the media found out about the search.”

Wesley tossed the paper on the counter and opened the refrigerator to fetch a potato and a bag of salad.

“What were those officers doing here?” Caitlyn asked. “Were they here to search your house like they did your RV?”

Wesley ignored her as he sprayed butter on the potato, pierced it with a fork, and wrapped it in foil to be placed on the grill. “Can you get the bag of salad?” he asked, grabbing a bowl. She followed him outside as he placed the potato on the grill and took the salad from her. He opened it and poured it into the bowl, never glancing at her once.

“Are you pissed at me?”

“I’m just really stressed right now.” He snapped the lid on the bowl of salad and placed in on the outside table. She stood beside him as he stirred a fire in an outdoor fireplace.

Tension rose, radiating off him as he kept his attention anywhere but on her. His jaw clenched as he focused on mundane tasks.

Walking toward him, she fingered a wisp of his hair. Longing trolled through her belly and settled in her groin. “If you want to talk to me, you can. I promise I won’t be a journalist.”

When he turned to her, her pulse plummeted. Vivid green eyes captured her, thickening her blood. She dropped her hand. Her lips parted in an effort to breathe, and she caught the flicker of his eyes, the downward turn of his lips. The fire in the pit crackled, smoke billowing out of the smoke stack. They stood facing each other, watching each other, his gaze burned into hers, trailing fire across her skin. Caitlyn licked her lips. Wesley’s eyes dipped to her mouth, lingered. Then, he turned and walked away.

Her neck tightened as she followed him inside. He had that effect on her.
Especially
when he wanted to kiss her. That was an expression she’d seen many times before. No mistaking it. She parked herself behind the kitchen bar, watching as he opened several cupboards and grabbed dishes and utensils before opening more cabinets, as if he couldn’t remember where he placed everything.

“Yes, those officers were here to search my house,” Wesley finally replied to her earlier question. “I guess it’s like the newspaper said. I’m a suspect in Chad’s murder.”

Wesley finally found a cooking pot and filled it with water.

“Why would you be a suspect?” Caitlyn asked.

“They found a file folder with my name in Chad’s trailer. It was empty, save for a piece of paper with a drawing of my family tree.”

“Why would he have something like that?”

“I thought maybe he just had info on all his competition.” He set the pan on the stove and switched on the heat.

“Have you seen this family tree of yours?”

“No, just a picture. I’ve talked to the original detectives and they’re going to send me a copy of what they found.” He sat on the barstool next to Caitlyn. She straightened, studying him.

Wesley had a few weeks now to absorb the implications, Caitlyn only a few minutes. Her brows tightened, lips pressed together as she tugged on her ear. Was she pulling away from him? What was she thinking? Was she thinking he might in fact be a murderer? After all, he murdered his own mother, hadn’t he?

That thought vanished as she fingered the side of his face and caressed his cheek. Smoothing his hair between her fingers, she cocked her head and skimmed the back of his neck in a light massage.

Her touch did nothing to soothe him. He closed his eyes, his skin cranked in response to her warmth. Tension tightened his shoulders. Her scent, a bouquet of spice and flowers, disarmed him.

It’d be so easy,
so easy
, to take her right now.

He snatched his eyes open and met her gaze. Her pupils were dilated, her gaze warm, open, trusting and wanting.

He shifted towards her, just an inch, and her lips parted. Soft, warm, ready and waiting.

Cradling her chin, he feathered his lips to hers, breathing deeply as fire stewed in his gut and burst into his loins. Her hand clenched the back of his neck and he deepened the kiss.

Her thighs slid open. He craved the touch that would bind them. She was like a magnet, and fighting to keep away from her was too painful. His hands cupped her face and his mouth remained on hers as he rose from the chair and stood between her thighs.

She closed her legs around his hips. He braced his hands against her lower back, pulling her close to grind his pelvis against hers. Exploring her mouth, tasting her, savoring.

He’d longed to sample her from the moment he’d seen her in his garage. Wondered if her taste had changed.

Fuck no. Nothing had changed. Her mouth was damned near perfection. And damned near torture. Deep longing idled in his body, ready to explode, cramping his jeans. His ears rang, a hollowness trying to be released. He felt himself sinking, sinking. He longed to sink with her.

Water hissed on the stove as it boiled over. He jumped and pulled away. She released her legs and he rushed to turn off the stove, looking anywhere but at her.

He snatched the pan from the stove and watched the steam bubble up around the pan, waiting for the fire in his own body to subside. He should’ve been glad for the distraction before he made a terrible mistake.

He wasn’t.

He took his time searching for two cups. Emptied a packet of hot cocoa into them along with the steaming water and stirred. When he was sure his pulse had slowed and his limbs were once again steady, he carried the mugs to her.

“Thank you,” she said.

He nodded. “I need to check the meat. We can sit on the deck and eat there.”

She followed him, carrying both of their cups as he carried a platter and utensils. He was no longer hard, but his body still prickled with the longing to touch her.

Twilight fell, dagger-light, ironing orange flames along the horizon. The cold lanced his skin, made him forget about the heat that had consumed him.

He had to stay away from her. He couldn’t make the mistake of kissing her again. She made things feel right, and things would never be right again.

“Aren’t you going to ask me whether I killed him?” he asked as he brandished a knife, trying to lighten his mood and ease tension.

Caitlyn laughed. “I know better.”

He lifted his lips in an attempt to grin, but weariness wore it down. He turned away to get the food and to hide from her discernment.

Chad’s murderer still lingered over his head like a dark cloud. She didn’t need to be involved with this.

Caitlyn was right. It wasn’t hard to find information on him, considering his status. He hadn’t changed his identity, only tried to erase the painful memories. Though his dad performed wonders to keep the details of that night out of the public, the possibility someone might talk always existed.

And now, with Caitlyn back in his life, trouble brewed again.

He couldn’t forget. He would never forget. But damn, some things weren’t worth forgetting.

*

Dusk settled over the mountain. Caitlyn worried about finding her way back to town, but she didn’t want to leave. Wesley’s shoulders relaxed, his smile softened. She didn’t think leaving him alone to dwell on his problems was a good idea.