Running Blind (38 page)

“Yes ma’am.”

“And one more thing,” Carly said in a lowered voice Libby could barely hear from her position. “Kiss me one more time before you go.”

At that, Libby returned to her seat. When Carly came back into the kitchen a few moments later, her cheeks were a little flushed, but she likely didn’t realize that she looked so well kissed.

“Would you like a warmup?” Carly asked, headed for the coffeepot.

“Sure. Thank you.”

Carly walked to the kitchen table with the carafe in her hand. As she was pouring coffee into the cup, Libby said, “You know, I’d be happy to teach you how to make my chocolate cake.”

C
ARLIN PEEKED OUT
the mudroom window. Yes, Libby was headed for the bunkhouse. Apparently she was going
to inspect the hands’ home just as she’d inspected this one.

Assured that Libby would be occupied for a few minutes, Carlin walked toward Zeke’s office. Okay, she ran, just a little. Having another person in the house was a pain in the ass, even though she liked Libby, which surprised her. When Libby had first arrived it had been obvious she’d had her reservations, but Carlin had figured there wasn’t anything she could do about that except be herself, and if their positions had been reversed she’d have been just as suspicious. Libby was down to earth, she liked a bawdy joke, and she was full of laughter and chatter. Carlin could see why Zeke cared about the woman who had once been his housekeeper and surrogate mother. Still, her own time here was precious, and she wanted to be alone with Zeke when she could.

He glanced up when she walked into his office, and his eyes smiled. His mouth did, too, but it was the smile in his eyes that got her every time. Carlin leaned against the doorjamb and returned it, with interest. She shouldn’t love him, but there was no reason she couldn’t love his smile. There was no reason she couldn’t love the way he looked at her, as if he wanted to eat her up. Kat said they had “sparks.” Looking at him right now, the air certainly seemed to be electrically charged. She could hardly stay in her own skin.

“Libby’s visiting the bunkhouse. I think she’s holding another inspection.”

He shot out of his chair, rounding the desk and reaching for her. “You mean we’re alone?”

Carlin nodded.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.” Not long enough, she suspected, but she’d take what she could get.

He kissed her as if he were as hungry for the connection
as she was. It was a good kiss, deep and stirring and unbroken, even when he dragged her out of the doorway and farther into the room. The office was all brown leather and dark wood, a man’s domain, and it smelled the way a man’s domain should. There had never been a single flower or scented candle in this room, she suspected, just sweat and paper and more leather.

He propped her against the desk, spread her legs and fit himself between them. So close, and yet not close enough. He was hard; his length pressed into her.

“Missed me?” she asked hoarsely when he broke the kiss and unzipped her jeans.

His eyes were hooded when he answered, “More than I should.”

“I’ve missed you.” Just a few days, and she was caught on the razor’s edge of blind need after one kiss.

“How much?” Zeke pushed her jeans down and thrust his hand inside her underwear. She wiggled, scooting the jeans down, spreading her thighs to make this work.

“See for yourself, cowboy,” she whispered. She was wet, pulsing, all from a kiss and the scent of his body, from the warmth and hardness she’d become accustomed to calling hers. She closed her eyes when his fingers moved deeper, parting her folds and slipping inside her.

He stroked her, brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her while he plunged his fingers inside her. She came, lightning fast and hard, her tongue thrusting into his mouth, his tongue dancing with hers.

She melted against him, heart pounding and body rubbery with satisfaction. Swiftly he unzipped his own jeans, guided his erection to her, and thrust inside. She made a small guttural sound of excitement. She’d just climaxed, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted him.

He began thrusting fast, his face taut, as hungry after these days of deprivation as she’d been. His bedroom
was, inconveniently, directly above the room where Libby was staying. Both of them had tried to hold back while Libby was here, but the frenzied need she felt in him told her that wasn’t going to hold.

His powerful body bowed into hers. He ground his teeth together to hold back any sound, and began coming. His thrusts were hard now, jarring her, going as deep as he could get.

Panting, he leaned over her, spent. She felt as if she could barely move, either, but Libby would be coming back any minute. “Hurry,” she whispered. He pulled out of her, and she ran for the bathroom. She had to wash, and change her underwear. She fully expected Libby to have returned by the time she was finished, but no, they still had the house to themselves.

What could Libby be doing in the bunkhouse, for this length of time?

The answer was as obvious as the blush that suddenly burned her face. Giving them time together, that was what she was doing. No one was in the bunkhouse, the men were all out doing chores, so it wasn’t as if she was enjoying a chat with any of them.

This was ridiculous. Time was flying by, and she wouldn’t have Zeke for much longer. Libby shouldn’t have to banish herself to the bunkhouse to give them time alone.

She went to Zeke’s office door again. He’d cleaned up, too, and was once more sitting at his desk, though she didn’t know exactly how much attention he was paying to the paperwork in front of him. His eyes had that sleepy, sated look she adored.

“Enough’s enough. My room, tonight,” she said. “You’ll know when Libby’s asleep because she snores loud enough for the sound to make it to the kitchen.”

“I don’t care if she knows we’re sleeping together.” He
leaned back in his chair and looped his hands behind his head. “She’s not an idiot, she’s probably already figured it out.”

“That doesn’t mean I want her listening in. My room is farther away.”

The back door slammed. From the kitchen, Libby’s voice rang out in what was obviously a warning. “Carly, where’s the lemon-scented cleaner? We need to make a run through the bunkhouse. I swear, those boys would live in filth if it was allowed.”

Zeke ignored Libby’s call and gave Carlin a sober look. “If a few days is like this, what’s it going to be like when you’re gone?”

She tried a shrug. “Out of sight, out of mind.” She hoped, and she didn’t hope. She’d miss him so much she already ached, and it was awful of her but she wanted him to miss her the same way.

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

L
IBBY WAS SURPRISED
to find that she liked the cold. She’d missed it. If she stayed here much longer she’d probably change her tune, but for now she enjoyed walking down Battle Ridge’s main street bundled up from head to toe, the wind on her face as she thought about a cup of hot coffee and a slice of Kat’s pie.

It was almost time for her to leave. She’d come here to check out Carly Hunt and she had. Zeke was wild about the girl, and the girl was wild about him. Maybe they were in love, maybe it was all pheromones and hormones and it wouldn’t last. But Carly was just who she appeared to be, and Zeke was fine. Libby’s curiosity had been satisfied, and she felt certain she was leaving the man who had been like a son to her in good hands.

Carly was good in the kitchen and she kept the house
clean. She took care of Zeke without taking any shit. She was a strong woman, and that was exactly what Zeke needed.

Libby heard a familiar voice call her name. Turning, she watched Carly wave and step into the street, and she stopped to wait for her. The girl must love to read; she went to the library every time she came to town, and always brought home at least two books, sometimes more.

Neither of them saw the truck until it was too late. Just as Carly stepped out from between two parked cars, a red pickup with a teenager behind the wheel took the corner too fast and swerved onto the main street. The inexperienced kid lost control and skidded right into Carly. She tried to jump back, and the driver tried to steer the big vehicle away from her, but he clipped her with his bumper.

There was a thud, followed by a curse. Carly hit the ground on the other side of the truck. Her purse and the books she’d been carrying flew out of her hands and skidded away, landing under the nearest parked vehicle.

Her heart in her mouth, Libby ran. She forgot her knees, forgot everything in her rush to get to Carly. If she was seriously hurt, or, oh God, she might die, and what would Zeke do—

Other people were running toward the scene. Kat came flying out of the café, screaming Carly’s name. Libby skidded around the vehicle that hid Carly from view, and almost passed out from relief. Carly was half-sprawled, half-sitting on the asphalt, dazed but apparently unbroken. Best of all, she looked pissed.

“Don’t move!” Kat ordered when Carly tried to stand. She turned her attention to another bystander, and immediately contradicted herself. “You, help me get her up. She needs to be checked out at the clinic.” Then she was
on her knees beside Carly. “Is anything broken? No, don’t move!”

“I have to move if you’re going to get me up,” Carly said testily. “I’m fine. Really. I think. At any rate, I don’t think anything’s broken.” She held her hands out and Kat caught one, while the man Kat had dragooned gripped the other one and together they got her to her feet. When she reeled back, Kat was there to catch and steady her.

“You might have a concussion,” Kat said.

“I don’t, I’m fine—”

“You’re going to the clinic, and I’m going with you.” Kat looked up and spotted a friend. “Mary, would you watch the café for me for a while?”

“I’m just shaken up, honest.”

“Carly, you go on,” Libby said firmly. “Kat’s right. I’ll take care of everything here. Wasn’t that the Collins boy?” she demanded angrily of someone.

“Yeah, that was him. Here he comes back, thank God. He’d have been in a world of trouble if he’d kept going.”

Carly did seem to be a bit out of it; she didn’t even look toward the truck that had hit her. Young Collins climbed out of the truck, his face white. “Is she okay?”

“No thanks to you, dumb ass!” Libby barked. “You know better than to be speeding in town.” Libby allowed Kat to help Carly to the clinic, while she handled the more mundane chores, such as tearing a strip off the Collins kid’s hide. She also rounded up Carly’s purse and the books she’d checked out, then waited around until a deputy arrived to take her statement.

When that was taken care of, Libby walked down to the clinic. There were a woman and child in the waiting room, but no sign of Carly and Kat, so they must’ve been taken in to see the doctor.

Libby knew the receptionist, because there was just this one clinic in town and she’d come here herself for years.
Evelyn Fortier had lived in Battle Ridge forever. She’d worked for three different doctors in this same clinic.

“Hi, Evelyn,” Libby said as she walked up to the desk. “How on earth are you?”

They talked a moment, catching up. They hadn’t been great friends, but they had always been friendly acquaintances. Finally Libby asked, “Any word on Carly? I hope she’s not seriously hurt.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, of course you’re here with Carly. I should’ve realized that right away.” She tsked. “You don’t know if she has any insurance, do you?”

“No, but Zeke will take care of all the bills, if she doesn’t.”

“Oh, I know he will. We will need some identification of some kind for our records, before she leaves. Kat just hustled her on back and I didn’t even get to make a copy of her driver’s license.”

“I have her purse. Let me check.”

Good heavens, Carly’s purse was so neat and organized! A place for everything and everything in its place. The canister of pepper spray was a little startling, but not unusual. Maybe she should get some herself. Libby pulled out Carly’s wallet, all the while considering the pepper spray and noting the brand name, and opened it. There was plenty of cash, more than she’d expected to find, but not a single credit card. No driver’s license or insurance card, either.

“Well, I don’t see one.”

The phone rang, and Evelyn answered. Libby walked away, still shuffling through the wallet. Carly had driven one of Zeke’s work trucks to town, so surely she had a license and had it with her. The contents of the wallet were off, somehow. It was just
odd
. Libby’s own wallet contained two credit cards, an AARP card, an AAA card, and two grocery store rewards cards, as well as a driver’s
license and her insurance cards. And pictures, of course—all of her grandkids, but still … there was nothing in Carly’s wallet to identify the owner. Nothing.

She started searching for hidden pockets, and found one. There, shoved into a side pocket low and tight, was a card. Libby managed to wrangle the card to the surface.

She looked down at it, immediately recognizing Carly’s photo. Then the name hit her between the eyes and her heart sank. She held in her hand a Texas driver’s license with an unsmiling photo of Carly staring back at her. The name on the license wasn’t Carly Hunt, it was Carlin
Reed
. Carlin Jane Reed, to be precise. She could see Carly being a nickname, but Reed? Why was her last name different?

That, along with the lack of any other personal information, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She’d been so worried about Carly scamming Zeke, she hadn’t even considered that the girl would be so good that she herself could be scammed, as well.

Why would she use a false name? Was she wanted by the police? On the FBI most wanted list? Then Libby mentally smacked herself in the forehead. Duh. The most logical reason for a different last name was marriage. Was Carly a married woman? Oh my God. That would break Zeke’s heart.

What on earth was she supposed to do now?

“Any luck?” Evelyn called.

Libby shoved Carly’s driver’s license back in the hidden pocket. Until she decided what to do, there was no reason to share what she’d found. “No, I’m sorry. Carly must’ve left her license at home.”