Unfinished Hero 03 Raid (9 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Adult

BOOK: Unfinished Hero 03 Raid
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That was nice.

“Okay,” I stated more resolutely
,
then asked (yes, stupidly), “How into you do you think I am?”

“Honey, you crawled around on all fours in a pet store, totally unable to cope with
bein’ in my space. You’re seriously into me.”

This was true and this should have mortified me.

It didn’t.

For some reason, it annoyed me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s kind of annoying you figured that out
,
and more annoying you keep bringing it up.”

To this he threw his handsome head back, burst out laughing and held my hand tight
for a second.

Then his hold loosened and he lifted our hands so our elbows were on the table, our
hands up between us
,
but he again leaned into me.

This time super-
close.

Which meant he was pressing my hand into his hard chest.

I held my breath.

“Open book,” he said quietly. “Like I said, it’s cute. It’s also refreshing, baby.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I whispered, no longer annoyed. With him that close and my
hand pressed to his chest I was back to nervous.

“I do,” he confirmed.

Okay then, he thought it was cute and refreshing
,
so I felt it safe to give him more.

Therefore I did.

“Just so you know, I find you extremely attractive and I’d really like this date to
go well because I’d like another one
,
and not as an excuse to buy another dress and killer pair of shoes.”

I did it
,
but felt no relief when something weird and a little alarming flashed in his eyes.
His fingers squeezed mine before he hid that look, let my hand go and sat back.

“For a guy, that question is answered at the end of the date.”

Fabulous.

Something to be
more
nervous about.

He grinned at me.

I licked my lips.

His grin faded and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

I stopped breathing.

The waiter showed with our appetizers.

Thank God.

* * * * *

“Be back, yeah?” Raiden asked as the waiter swept away our dessert plates.

I nodded to him while he stood

When he was up, he reached out a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. My scalp tingled,
the tingle shooting straight down my spine
,
and I wished I could touch his hair or that he’d do that again (and again) while
he walked away.

I watched him go while internally shivering through the remnants of the hair tuck
maneuver.

Once he was out of sight, my mind turned to the date.

I wasn’t certain how it started
,
but once we were over the Bodhi and Heather thing and the how into him I was thing,
Raiden steered conversation to safer subjects. People in town we both knew. How great
Rachelle’s café was doing. Grams. How I did up my house.

I thought, in the end, it was going well.

Conversation was easy
. I
t flowed
. T
here were smiles, some laughs for him and for me, the food was delicious and I’d loosened
up because of my company, not to mention three glasses of wine.

The one thing that was weird was that Raiden shared zilch about himself
,
outside talking a bit about his Mom and more about his sister, both of whom, when
he spoke of them, it was clear he cared a lot about.

But he didn’t tell me about his house when I was talking about mine. He didn’t share
about what he did for work. He didn’t talk about the time he was away. In fact, it
was him that led the conversation and I followed its flow, sharing generously without
getting but a hint of anything personal back.

It was on this thought I realized I had to use the restroom
,
and this thought led to the fact I should have told Raiden that before he left. I
figured he’d know where I was when he got back and saw me gone. A bonus, it would
save me having to give him that information and the nerve wracking moment of walking
away while he was watching.

So I grabbed my bag, moved from the table and headed in the direction of the restroom.

I got to the ladies in the back hall and put my hand on the door
,
but stopped dead when I heard Raiden’s voice coming from around the corner that was
at the end of the hall.

“She’s clueless,” he stated.

I stared at my hand at the door, my mind going blank.

“Totally,” Raiden went on. “Hanna has no idea those two assholes are transporting
ice with her afghans.”

My breath clogged in my throat.

Ice?

As in methamphetamine?

“Yeah, it’s completely escaped her,” Raiden continued. “She thinks the girl is helpin’
her out. Hanna’s got no part in it. I end this with her tonight, we’ll meet, plan
the takedown.”

I end this with her tonight.

Oh my God.

What?

How?

What?

“She trusts them. Whacked,” Raiden carried on. “Motherfuckers are using her. Thinks
they’re her friends. She’s got no fuckin’ clue.”

I pushed the door and hurried inside. I somehow had the presence of mind to tiptoe
in because the bathroom was tile
,
the hallway carpeted, muting my footfalls and he obviously didn’t know I was there.

The door swung closed behind me
.
I put my back to the wall beside it and deep-breathed.

Holy Moses, Bodhi and Heather were using my shipments to transport drugs.

Holy Moses! How would they even
do
that?

And why?

And…

And…

For some reason, Raiden was out with me to ascertain my part in this hideous scenario.

He wasn’t into me.

He was using me.

Like Bodhi and Heather.

My friends who I rode trails with, snowboarded with, laughed with.

Using me.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, pain searing through me, the heat white-hot, leaving devastation
in its wake.

I wasn’t an idiot. I was…

I didn’t know what I was.

A moron.

A loser.

I shoved my bag under my arm so I could put my hands over my face and I pulled in
huge, broken breaths to control the tears clawing at the backs of my eyes.

A new dress.

Excited laughter with my best friend.

Shoes that I’d have to knit five afghans to pay for.

And all because I was a moron.

Thoughts assaulting my brain, it took everything I had to pull myself together.

Raiden couldn’t know I knew. I had to pretend. I had to finish this stupid,
stupid
date.

Then
I
would end things tonight.

Then
I
would take care of business.

Then
I
would learn my stupid lesson.

A narrow life was better.

Books. Movies. Friends I’d had since junior high who I could trust. A great-grandmother
who adored me. An ornery cat who liked me occasionally. A job I enjoyed that was free
of the drug trade.

That was it.

The rest of it…

No.

I had no idea I’d been smart before. I had no idea I’d been living the right life.

I had no idea.

Now I did.

“Shit,” I whispered.

I rushed into a stall, took care of business then left the restroom carefully. Checking
the back hall, which was empty, I stealthily moved out and saw Raiden at our table.
I skirted the main area of the restaurant, walked outside and took in huge
lung-fulls
of crisp, mountain air, coming up with a plan while doing so.

The wine had gone to my head. I was a bit tipsy and more headachy.

I needed to go home.

I squared my shoulders
and swallowed my tears
. I
turned to the front door, walked in and moved to the table, Raiden’s head coming up
when he saw me, his brows snapping together at my direction.

God, he was gorgeous.

Amazing.

Phenomenal.

Using me.

“You okay?” he asked as I sat.

I drew in one more breath.

Then I turned to him. I took him in and felt my dream take its final, shuddering breath
before it died…

And I lied.

 

 

Chapter Six

Last Chance

 

The drive home was silent
. T
he whole time I looked out the side window.

That wasn’t strictly true.

The drive home was silent
,
except once we were in the Jeep on our way home, Raiden asked, “This happen often,
headaches comin’ on this fast?”

“Yes,” I lied.

Raiden left it at that.

I spent my energies holding myself together.

This took a lot of my energies.

Therefore, by the time we got to my house, I was exhausted.

Raiden parked
,
and as he was shutting the Jeep down, I swiftly unbuckled my seatbelt, threw open
the door and climbed out as gracefully as I could.

I was hoofing it double time to the front door when my efforts were foiled by Raiden’s
hand closing around mine.

He slowed my dash and dug into his jeans pocket, got out my keys, stopped us at the
door and let us in.

I took two wide steps inside, unfortunately dragging him with me. I tugged my hand
free of his and turned on him, hand up.

“Thanks for letting us in. I’ll take those now.”

I avoided his eyes as he deposited my keys in my hand, my fingers closing around them
instantly, and my hand dropped.

“Hanna, you gonna be okay?”

I looked up at him.

Raiden Miller in my foyer.

A dream come true then turning straight into a nightmare.

“I’ll take some ibuprofen and I’ll be fine,” I lied.

I wouldn’t be fine. Not for ever and ever.

“Can you hang on a second?” I went on to ask. “Before you go, I want to give you something.”

“Sure
,
honey,” he replied gently.

Raiden Miller calling me honey.

Gently.

Total nightmare.

I looked to my feet, tucked my hair behind my ear and hurried to the stairs. “I’ll
just be a sec.”

I rushed up the stairs on the toes of my sandals.

I’d had the idea on the way home. It didn’t make sense at all
,
but the instant I had it I knew I had to do it. And I never knew I had to do anything
the instant I had the idea
,
so I decided I was going to go with it.

I ran to my bedroom door and tossed my clutch and the keys across the room to the
bed. Then I dashed to the spare bedroom where I kept my finished afghans and found
the one I was looking for. A fluffy
,
black, loose weave cashmere already tied in a wide, dove gray satin ribbon with my
signature tag on it. Heavy cream cardstock
,
and on it, in black, handwritten in the calligraphy I taught myself from a book after
painstaking hours of copying,
Made special… by Hanna.

I hastened down the hall, slowed my step at the stairs and again avoided looking at
Raiden while I descended.

But I walked right up to him and held out the throw.

“I want you to have this.”

“Jesus, baby,” he murmured, his voice deeper than normal
,
and I looked up at him.

He was staring down at the afghan, his face strange.

He looked stunned, moved, pleased.

Really.

He was an amazing actor.

His eyes came to mine. “I can’t take this.”

I jerked it toward him. “Take it.”

He lifted a hand then dropped it and held my eyes. “It looks like a five hundred dollar
one.”

“It’s a seven hundred and fifty dollar one.”

He did a slow blink. “Come again?”

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