Rescue Me (19 page)

“You want the flower?” the vendor
inquired.

“Yes,” Spencer answered, his gaze never
leaving hers. With one deft move, he paid the vendor and led her to
the next stand.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

She loved it when he teased her like this.
“For what?”

“For the thanks I'll be getting.”

“Is sex all you think about?” She tried to
sound annoyed but failed. It was all she'd been thinking about
since his comment about dinner.

“Is this a trick question?” Spencer gave her
a sideways look and winked. Heat slapped her cheeks. God how she
loved it when he did that. “Come on. Stay close.”

His smile slowly faded as he slipped back
into TREX mode. The hard lines around his mouth returned. He took
in every inch of their surroundings, tracing the market as if
seeing it for the first time.

They used to walk the market almost every
weekend. The familiarity seemed bittersweet. They'd lost a year of
this while they stayed apart due to stubborn pride.

She watched him as he continued to study
their surroundings. Something definitely had him on edge. Every
little noise caused him to tense and whip his attention to identify
the sound. And he insisted on carrying a gun, which he never did
when he wasn't on a find.

“Spencer? What's going on?”

“Just like to know what's going on around
me.”

“Always on the job?” She took his hand and
squeezed it.

He did a botched job at smiling. “Something
like that.”

“Can't you just give it up for one day? You
don't always have to be the ultimate TREX agent, you know.”

He looked at her, his eyes mixed with a dark
emotion she'd never seen before. “Yes, Kathryn. I do.”

She furrowed her brow, his comment plunging
into her heart and deflating what little blind optimism she had
that things would be different this time. For one split second she
thought he might change and put her ahead of the almighty job. She
tried not to think about it, but the reality planted itself in her
brain.

“Not even for me?” She hated how hopeful she
sounded.

“Let's go inside.” He dragged her to a large
warehouse instead of answering her, but he didn't have to. She
already knew.

Not even for her.

Kat's heart pinched and sent waves of heavy
disappointment coursing through her, dragging her down under the
realization. The slow, steady singe of reality seeped into her
heart and forced her to swallow thickly in order to force her
emotions back in. She wished this didn't have to be so hard. So
damned painful. Loving him was the easy part. Sharing him wasn't.
“Spencer, would you please talk to me?”

“Take a look at this. Ostrich meat.” Spencer
pulled her over to a booth, ignoring her question.

“I don't want to look at ostrich meat!” She
jerked her hand back and glanced around at all the people that
found a sudden interest in the rest of whatever she had to say.
“Talk to me, damn it.”

He stared down every last set of eyes
watching until no one else dared pay them any attention. As he
turned back to her, his eyes blazed, his expression tender yet
torn. “Not here.”

“Then when?”

“Kathryn.” He didn't sound angry, which
amazed her. Instead, he just sounded tired. “I can't.”

Figured. She couldn't compete with TREX. The
agency won every time.

Every
time.

It hit her. Hard. They'd never be anything
more than friends with benefits. The pain from her epiphany ripped
the breath from her lungs. How could she let this happen? She
allowed herself to fall right back into the disastrous spiral known
as their relationship at mach speed.

“I'm tired of being second in your life.”

His expression deepened as he snapped his
brow into a frown. “You have no idea how wrong you are. You aren't
second to anything.”

A thousand emotions passed between them.
Denial. Hope. Disbelief. Love?

She stepped back and ran into someone.
Forcing herself into regrouping, she took in the stranger in the
giant cowboy hat.

And froze, shocked at who she saw.

“Travis?” In all the years she'd known him,
she'd never even seen him wear a hat, let alone a ten gallon one.
She peeked around the obnoxious head gear he hid behind.

He tipped the brim and smiled. “Howdy,
ma'am.”

“What's with the hat?”

“You know me. I like to change things up a
bit.”

Always. Travis loved to catch her off guard
all the time. It was a game to him. When he did, he'd flash that
goofy grin and say, “Gotcha.”

Spencer stiffened and squared his shoulders
as he slid his arm around Kat's midsection. Travis watched
Spencer's every movement. His expression hardened as he zeroed his
gaze on Spencer's arm around her.

And then Travis glanced above Kat's head. “My
wife loves ostrich meat. I thought I'd surprise her.”

She studied him as he just stood there,
looking damn uncomfortable talking with them at all. He shrugged
and went to the vendor to place an order for jerky. After he paid
and received a bag of his goods, he returned to Spencer and
Kat.

Spencer tightened his hold on her. “So, about
the Miller search.”

“What about it?” Travis fidgeted as he looked
around.

“A little bird told me that you pulled my
boss aside.”

Kat jerked her gaze from Spencer to Travis.
“Did you?”

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “I
remember hearing something about Spence getting his ass handed to
him the last time you two were…” he trailed off and bounced his
attention to Spencer's grip on her.

“And how is that any of your business?”
Spencer growled.

Travis wore an unreadable look on his face.
She didn't like it. She could usually read people pretty well, but
Travis had a gift at being evasive.

Like now.

A deep foreboding crept into her senses.
Travis eyed her with a little more attention than ever before, a
little longer than a friendly look.

What in the world was going on?

She slowly put the pieces in place. Travis
didn't watch her with concern like Spencer. His look darkened as
his gaze kept darting to the way Spencer held her to him.

Travis didn't like Spencer touching her.

That would explain the sudden hostility
toward her. He didn't want her back with Spencer. He'd always had a
crush on her, but she never knew he'd take it so far as to involve
Spencer's boss to keep them apart. Besides, he was already married
with a plethora of kids.

“Did you hear that Salazar is out of the
Miller's house?” Travis clenched his jaw, though he attempted to
push out a smile. He looked like he was in pain.

“I didn't hear that.” Spencer watched Travis
with hawk eyes. Kat looked between the two men. These two
definitely did not like each other.

“I pick things up around the water
cooler.”

“Right,” Spencer growled, his eyes narrowing.
“And you don't know Damon Salazar personally?”

Travis met Spencer's vigilant gaze. “Why
would I know him personally?”

“Just a hunch.”

The tension thickened. They'd never been the
best of friends, but they'd also never looked ready to kill each
other. Jealousy hung between them. While it may flatter some women
to have men fight over them, it only irritated Kat. She wanted to
smack them both on the back of their heads.

Travis held up his purchase, fidgeting once
again. “Got my ostrich meat. Guess I'll see you at the office on
Monday, Kat.” He scurried off. If he didn't have on that ridiculous
hat he would have disappeared in the crowd.

Kat watched the hat until it, too,
disappeared. “What was that all about?”

Spencer turned and looked off in the same
direction. He still held his spine rigid, his stance wide. And his
hand on her possessively, protectively. “I don't like the way he
looks at you.”

“It's just a little crush.”

“I think it's more than that.”

“Spence, he's married. So he likes me. It's
not like he's going to go all stalker on me. He's got my back. He
always has, which is why I stole him away from the state when I
started K-SAR. We're bound to build a relationship.”

Spencer tensed. “What kind of
relationship?”

“Well,” she started as she offered him a
sideways, teasing glance. “Aside from the ropes and handcuffs we
keep in the Com Van, there's the whips and chains we use on each
other when we really get bored. He has the cutest dimple on
his—”

“I get it,” he cut her off and then chuckled
as he shook his head. “Stop. Just stop.” He kissed her temple. “You
kill me, baby. All this talk of ropes and handcuffs has me anxious
to get you home.”

After her whirlwind of emotional epiphanies
since arriving at the market, she was still happy. Blissfully
ignorant, maybe. But happy. Even if they were destined to be
miserable, it didn't have to start today. She'd worry about the
future tomorrow. Right now, she deserved a little happiness and
decided to simply enjoy in the moment.

The smell of her favorite food caught in her
nostrils and she inhaled long and hard. Ah, gyros. “Hungry?”

“Are we back to where we were before Becker
interrupted us?”

She had to laugh at how timid he sounded. “Do
you want to be?”

His expression softened as he raked his gaze
over her face. “If that means we go back to fighting, then hell
no.”

“Then let's have lunch. Where do you want to
eat?”

“Back on the boat.”

“But what about Mr. D's?”

He loved his gyros, too. It was the same
every time they came to the market. He loved Greek food and the
gyros at the market were beyond compare.

“I'd rather eat at
Ms
. D's.”

Oh, God. His voice, so low and smooth,
strummed across her senses. She let out a shaky breath. Maybe they
should just go. If he kept devouring her with his eyes and dropping
hints in that sexy voice, she wouldn't make it back to the boat.
She'd attack him right here in front of everyone.

“I want a gyro.”

“Okay,” he conceded, although
begrudgingly.

After lunch they spent the rest of the day
walking from vendor to vendor, both eagerly anticipating returning
to the house. They purposely prolonged the trip back, building the
sexual fervor into a wild frenzy that left her quivering and
wet.

By the time the vendors started to close up,
she had a new supply of emu oil and lip balm, and of course her
rose. He had the fresh fish under his arm.

“You ready?”

Oh God, yes
. “So soon?”

He pointed toward an ominous group of black
clouds moving in. “See those clouds? We need to get back to the
house before that storm hits. The temperature must have dropped ten
degrees since we got here.”

Not to her. With him so close and all those
innuendos, she had a fever. “What happens if we're on the water
when it's storming?”

Spencer already had them out of the market
and halfway back to the boat when he stopped and turned back to
her. “Ever see
A Perfect Storm
?”

She frowned. No, she'd never seen the movie,
but the picture on the front of all the posters said enough. Her
stomach flipped at the thought of being on the boat during a storm.
“That's not funny. We aren't a fishing boat out in the middle of
wherever they were.” She trembled at the thought.

Spencer pulled her to him. “I know how much
you hate the water. Let's just get back to the house before the
storm hits so you don't have to know what happens when we are out
in the boat in the middle of a storm. How's that sound?”

She relaxed ever so slightly, knowing that
Spencer wouldn't do anything to put her in danger. “Sounds good to
me.”

“I was going to grill the fish, but now that
it's raining, I think I'll broil it instead. What do you
think?”

She shrugged, not knowing the difference
between the two. “Whatever.”

“I forgot who I was asking. Ms. Box Nuker.
How about you take wine duty?” Amusement laced his tone. Spencer
kicked his lips into a grin and chuckled.

That she could handle. She knelt in front of
Spencer's chilled wine collection and made her selection, pulling
out a nice Chardonnay to show him. He nodded his approval and she
corked it to pour them each a glass. After handing him his wine,
she sat down at the breakfast bar to watch him cook another one of
his masterpieces.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Spencer stiffened as he skillfully sliced
onions into giant rings and placed them over the fish in the pan.
“Do I have to answer?”

“Generally, that's the way it works.”

“Does it have to be the truth?”

“Spencer.”

His eyes glimmered as he smiled, but Kat saw
the caution in his expression. A rare tenderness clouded them. “Go
ahead.”

She had the urge to tell him how much she
truly loved him. It made no sense, considering where it got her the
last time. A broken heart, new address, and lonely bed.

With a sudden declaration that shocked her,
she let out a breath and said, “It doesn't matter.”

He finished with the onions and moved on to
the lemons. “After all of that, you chicken out?”

Was that challenge she saw flickering in his
gaze?

“I've just had so much fun today. I don't
want to ruin it.”

“So don't.”

“It's not that easy.” She wished it were. She
wished their relationship was one for the greatest romance novels,
one that would have people comparing theirs to and trying to match.
With a weary sigh she then took a long drink of her wine.

His expression turned somber and he set down
the knife. “Why can't it be? Why not accept what we have? Why try
to analyze it? Or complicate it?”

“Because I want more.” She wanted the fairy
tale. Marriage. Kids. A white picket fence. Hell, she even wanted
the dog. With Spencer she wouldn't have any of those things.