Authors: Penny McCall
"Until now."
"Yep, and I wouldn't have found it if Bennet hadn't burned my cabin down. There were heavy rains while we were back East. Part of the ground that was protected by the cabin floor for the last hundred and fifty years washed away. Sticking out of the mud and mess I saw a corner of that," she pointed to the strongbox where she kept her satchel.
She'd hoped Tag would want a closer look at the box, but he stayed where he was, so close that if she took too deep a breath she'd rub against him. Alex braced herself and deliberately stepped back into him. He moved, but only far enough for her to open her satchel and take something out, something that sparked light from the rays of the setting sun.
Tag reached over her shoulder and took the gold coin, holding it up. A woman's head was on one side, the date 1860 below and stars around the edge. The obverse was the American eagle, olive branches in one claw, arrows in the other. Around the edge it read "Pikes Peak Gold, Denver, Five D."
"That was made locally in Colorado by Clark, Gruber and Co., who later sold their mint to the U.S. government."
"More Internet research?"
Alex smiled, handing him another object, which he took in his other hand, so he had both arms around her now.
She should have moved away; he wasn't holding her there. He was barely touching her, but she didn't have the strength to deny herself the breathless moment of pleasure, remembering how it felt to be wrapped in his arms for real.
But a moment was all it could be. She concentrated almost desperately on the hunk of rock Tag held, the size of his palm, veins of pure gold threading through quartz.
"Alex—"
She slipped out of his arms before he could tighten them, and to hell with letting him see that he'd gotten to her. "I found everything from gold dust to minted coins to raw ore in the box," she said when she'd put enough space between them. "Juan was a thief. That's why we didn't find a claim. He never filed one. He just robbed everyone else."
"So simple," Tag said, his voice as husky as hers.
Alex refused to let it mean anything. He was aroused. So was she. Sex had never been a problem for them. Commitment was, and it appeared her luck with men hadn't improved in that area. "If Bennet had actually looked for the treasure, he'd have been richer than he could have dreamed. But he never had any imagination, never believed in anything but the quick, easy score."
"He took a shortcut," Tag said. "Sometimes they don't lead where you expect." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "So… you haven't asked me any questions."
Because they were all loaded, she thought. They started off harmlessly enough, but they all seemed to lead someemotional, and her emotions had been her enemies for the past couple of months. It didn't help, knowing Tag was trying to take her off guard, talk his way around her.
But she was curious—which she hid behind a one-shouldered shrug. "The case was all but closed when I left Boston."
"Hasn't gone to trial," Tag said, "but yeah, it's closed. Harper wound up pretty much where we figured. Sappresi was brought in, and he won't be able to slither out of the charges this time. Guys are lining up to rat him out."
"I thought the mafia frowned on that."
"He was getting to be a problem. I imagine they find it ironic that for a change the bureau is solving a problem for them. Junior got off pretty much scot-free, but he didn't do anything wrong. And he's probably burning that you found the treasure. Kills his perfect record."
"What makes you think he knows?"
"I'd imagine somebody told him by now."
"Somebody?"
"Trust me, he'll get over it in no time." Tag shifted from one foot to the other, crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. "Once everything was tied up I came looking for you."
"Took you a while to find me, especially since all you had to do was call my mom."
"Your mom wasn't exactly cooperating."
Alex flashed him a grin. "She learned her lesson with Bennet Harper."
"Yeah. If I'd been thinking straight I would have used the FBI's resources to locate you before I quit." After a couple of beats, Tag smiled slightly. "It's your turn to talk. You know that, right?"
"Yeah." But suddenly there weren't any words in her head. There wasn't anything but a dull roaring sound.
"You're not saying anything."
"I know that, too."
"Go ahead, let me have it. I rehearsed."
Alex leaned a hip against the Jeep's front grille. "You rehearsed?"
"I didn't stand in front of a mirror practicing facial expressions and different inflections or anything, but, you know," he spread his hands, "kind of running scenarios in my head."
"How did they end?"
He bumped up one shoulder. "I don't know, but they all started the same way." He lifted his gaze to hers. "I love you."
Alex put her things back in the satchel, walked to stow it in the strongbox, then came around to the driver's side of the Jeep.
Tag stepped in front of her waiting until she lifted her gaze to his.
She sighed, shook her head. "Love isn't a magic pill, Tag. We want different things out of life."
"Do we?"
"I'm going to be on the road most of the time."
"Then I'll go with you."
"You going to hold my camera for me? Be my gofer?"
"I'll go wherever you go, do whatever." He said it without hesitation, with absolute certainty that he could leave behind a life that had so clearly defined him.
Alex was still afraid to take that final leap of faith. "You'll get bored," she said.
"First, you're underestimating yourself. Second, I'm not completely without options. I think I can find something to keep me busy while you're working."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that supposed to be an argument in your favor? Because the last time you kept me busy, there were people trying to kill me."
"Afraid I'll get you in trouble again?"
"Actually, yeah."
"Not on purpose, and not for a long, long while." He took her in his arms, took her mouth.
She tried to hold it back, but tears started leaking from her eyes. She'd been fighting for so long, herself more than anyone else, and she didn't even know why anymore. "I don't have to travel all the time," she said. "You could get your job back, and—"
Tag scooped her up in his arms, whirled them both in a circle, then set her on her feet, hugging her so hard she swore she felt her ribs rubbing together. 'This isn't going to be a long-distance relationship, Alex."
"But—"
He kissed her again, and this time she went with it, wallowing in the fast burst of heat and the soft glow of warmth sliding with it into her system. She wasn't foolish enough to believe love could solve all their problems, but she figit would give them a pretty good common ground to build the foundation for a life together.
Tag dropped his mouth to her neck, peeling the shoulder of her T-shirt down as far as he could to get to bare skin.
Alex was all for bare skin. "God, Tag, I love you."
"Yeah, me too," he said, fumbling with the hem of her T-shirt and then giving up to run his hands beneath, palming her nipples right through her sports bra.
Alex moaned, finding some bare skin of her own. When Tag boosted her onto the hood of the Jeep, and she had to open her eyes to catch her balance, she realized how dark it had gotten. "We can't do this here," she gasped, fighting the deep, drugging pull of his hands and mouth rushing over her.
"Okay." But he took her mouth again and helped her slide to the ground, slowly, full frontal contact the whole way. And he kept his hands on her for the short walk to the driver's side, laying his mouth on hers when they got there, sinking into her until he knew if he didn't let her go they were going to wind up on the ground, and probably serve as a snack for the local predators.
"There are a couple of problems we have to deal with," Alex began breathlessly, leaning on the side of the Jeep while she caught her breath, "before we take this any further."
"Fine." Tag kissed her again. "Let's discuss them on the way to your place. How far is it?"
"Too far to walk. That's Problem Number One."
Tag gave a pained and breathless laugh. Making it to the other side of the Jeep was probably too far to walk in his current state. "I can make it if you can. What's Problem Number Two?" he asked as he started around to the passenger side.
Stupid snarled, teeth bared, hair on end, keep-your-distance-or-lose-an-arm serious.
"Convincing him to let you in the Jeep," Alex said.
Tag eyed the dog, and Stupid eyed him back. After a minute or two the dog gave a little whine and lay down, nose on his front paws. He was still watching every move Tag made, but he was apparently prepared to postpone his final opinion.
"I'm impressed," Alex said, climbing behind the wheel. "Where'd you learn that, the FBI?"
"Jackass." Tag slid into the passenger seat. "But don't tell him I said so, it'll only go to his head."