The Heart of Christmas (11 page)

* * *

When Eve woke it was pitch-black, she was in a strange room—and she was alone. Had Brent abandoned her after they’d made love? Had he walked out and driven away, left her in an unfamiliar B and B in another town and without a car?

She sat up and stared into nothingness, her heart pounding in her ears as all her doubts about him, all the things she’d shoved into the back of her mind, bombarded her.

He said he lived in Bakersfield and owned a landscaping company, but she wasn’t sure she believed it. He’d never mentioned the name of his business.

She didn’t have any details on his background. Was he a high school graduate? A college graduate? If so, what was his degree?

She’d always had the cell phone number of any man she’d been intimate with. But the one she’d found on his luggage tag had been disconnected and he’d never given her
any
number. Other than knowing that he was staying temporarily with Mrs. Higgins, she had no way of contacting him.

And—she’d recognized this before but it was probably the most salient point—did she even have his real name? Was it Jared or Brent or Rex?

The only thing she had that she guessed
might
be accurate was a number for his brother in Los Angeles. And he hadn’t provided that. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t want her to have it if he knew, so she hadn’t brought it up. She’d been afraid that would scare him off. But her own hesitancy to end whatever they had worried her as much as anything else.
Why
would she ignore so many danger signals?

Because she wanted to be with “Brent” more than she’d ever wanted to be with any other man. And it had surprisingly little to do with the fact that, with him, she’d experienced the best sex of her life. He couldn’t fulfill her physically if there wasn’t more to it. She wasn’t someone who could be satisfied with an encounter that held no meaning. In the dark, when it was just the two of them and he was caught up in what he was feeling, he was surprisingly vulnerable and she couldn’t help responding to that.

She might have thought she was crazy for reading such sensitivity into a remote man like Brent, a man who could rebuff the very kindness he craved. But the reverent way he’d touched her, especially the last time they’d made love, convinced her that there was more depth to him than her fear urged her to believe. He needed human contact—needed
love
—and it was that emotional element that undermined her caution. He made her feel close to him, in all the ways that really mattered, despite the many things she didn’t know.

Even now, thinking about him evoked yearning. But if he couldn’t be there for her during the day, not just at night in the privacy of a bedroom, she’d never ultimately be happy having a relationship with him. If he even permitted anything approximating a relationship. He’d already rejected the possibility in no uncertain terms.

And yet she was beginning to hope. Damn it! She knew better than to get involved with a man like Brent. But she’d tried his opposite when she dated Ted—someone steady, successful and reliable whom she’d known her whole life—and that hadn’t worked out, either.

She was just throwing back the covers to climb out of bed and get dressed, reclaim her cell phone and ask someone to pick her up—that wasn’t going to be a fun call to make—when she heard the doorknob turn. She froze as Brent quietly let himself in. She would’ve assumed he’d gone to the bathroom, but this was a B and B like hers, where each room had been remodeled to include the modern conveniences most people preferred when they traveled.

That meant he’d been outside. Doing what, she couldn’t fathom. It had to be three or four in the morning. But she could see in the dim light of his cell phone that he was fully dressed.

“Where’d you go?” she asked.

“I got a call.”

“From...”

“My sister.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“She’s having trouble with an ex.”

“She’s okay, though, isn’t she?”

“Shh...yeah, she’s fine. I’ve got it handled. You don’t have to worry.”

When he stripped off his clothes and climbed back into bed, she rolled away from him, onto her stomach. She didn’t like the way her arms ached to hold him. It was too much, too soon. If she let herself fall in love with the wrong guy yet again, maybe she’d miss the right guy when he came along.

Problem was...she couldn’t imagine anyone appealing to her more. The only thing she didn’t like was his reluctance to love her in return—and his secrets.

Closing her eyes, she tried to level out her breathing. She’d sleep until morning, and then she’d get away from him for good, she told herself, like she should have done from the beginning. But it wasn’t ten seconds later that she felt his hands move over her body.

He started by massaging her back. She ignored that, thinking he’d eventually go to sleep. But he didn’t seem to require her participation. He acted as if he was content just to touch her, and that slowly broke down her resistance, made her glad when he began to stroke her in other places.

By the time she felt his mouth close over her earlobe and his hand slide between her thighs, she’d lost all desire to refuse him. And before long he was whispering that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen while cupping her breasts and taking her from behind.

12

W
hen Rex opened his eyes, he found Eve lying on her side, studying him in the sunlight streaming through the crack in the blind. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning.”

He reached over to move a strand of hair away from her face. “You sleep okay?”

“I did. You?”

“I feel great.” He’d slept deeply for the first time in...he couldn’t remember when. He’d just completely sacked out, and being able to do that had felt almost as good as making love to Eve beforehand.

“What about your sister?” she asked.

He stretched, wondering if he’d ever been so relaxed. Not in recent memory. But he generally didn’t allow himself the kind of intimacy he was enjoying with Eve. “What about her?”

“You said something happened during the night.”

“She’s fine,” he told her, but that missed call, when he forced himself to get up and check, just in case, had frightened him. He’d thought Scarlet might be in trouble. But he’d awakened her when he called back, and she’d apologized for not leaving a message. She’d said that she’d needed her phone for navigation just when his voice mail came on and had planned to call back. But once she arrived at her girlfriend’s house, she forgot until she was going to bed, and then she figured it was too late. “She wanted to let me know she was staying at a friend’s.” Which he felt was wise.

Eve nodded solemnly and they continued to stare at each other for several long seconds.

“No smile this morning?” he asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“About...?” He was almost afraid to ask. He could tell it was something he’d rather not address.

“Last night was even more incredible than the night before,” she said.

He hadn’t expected a compliment. He would’ve been relieved—except that she didn’t sound remotely pleased.

Hoping to lighten her mood, he grinned. “You nearly woke the whole inn when you cried out. Most people would be happy to come so hard.”

She hadn’t been
that
loud. He was teasing her, hoping to avoid where this was, in all likelihood, going. But she didn’t take the hint. “Maybe I would be happy if I wasn’t so confused,” she said.

The sense of well-being he’d awakened with dissipated, and the old restlessness returned. “You shouldn’t be confused. I’ve told you what to expect,” he said.

“Essentially nothing.”

He shifted. “Last night was nothing?”

She propped herself up against the headboard. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He supposed this was inevitable. He couldn’t expect someone like Eve to sleep with him, again and again, no questions asked. “Then what do you mean?”

She folded her arms, keeping the sheet in place over her breasts. “Why didn’t you say you had a sister when you told my parents about your brothers?”

That was an oversight. “Because she wasn’t part of the original picture.”

“You’re saying she was adopted?”

He hated lying to Eve, especially when so much of what had happened between them felt so...refreshingly honest. His desire for her was real. And her response to him? It was unmistakably innocent and unguarded. Although he felt moments of regret, when she reminded him of the man he could’ve been had his life taken a different course, she also brought him a great deal of comfort.

But the truth could get him killed—and her, too. He had to do what he could to protect them both. “She was a foster sister, at first. My parents adopted her later.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but let it go. “And all the other stuff you’ve told me? That you live in Bakersfield? That you own a landscaping company? Is that true?”

He grimaced. He hadn’t covered very well because he hadn’t really wanted to mislead her. Now that reluctance and the half-assed lies he’d told were coming back to haunt him. “What does it matter?”

Her eyes widened in outrage. “I hope you’re kidding!”

He sat up. “We’re not getting married, Eve. I was clear about that from the beginning.”

“And that rules out honesty? If we’re not being honest with each other, what’s the point?”

He got up and pulled on his pants. “We’re just enjoying the fun as long as it lasts.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

It had to be enough. It was all he could have. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s better than nothing. But I’ll take you home, if you don’t agree.”

His terse words had hurt her. He could tell when she got up and started yanking on her own clothes. But she had to understand his limitations or she could be hurt much worse later on. “Fine. Take me home,” she said. “It’s got to end some time.”

He felt helpless standing there, holding his shirt in his hands, watching her.

When she’d finished dressing, she went over to get her handbag from the chair, but he tossed his shirt aside and stepped toward her. “Don’t let it end like this.” Circling her waist with his hands, he brought her close and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re all I want, even if it’s just for a short time.”

She moved to push him away, but he held her tight and kissed her cheeks, her forehead and her lips before whispering, “Come on. What’s three weeks? You can give me that much, can’t you?”

Finally, the tension left her body and she stopped resisting. But when he lifted his head, he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Three weeks?” she repeated.

“That’s all,” he said. “After Christmas I’m gone.”

“Why
me?
There’s Noelle and...and other women here.”

He kissed her forehead again. “I told you. I want you. We’re good together. You make me feel whole.”

She shook her head. “See? That’s the type of thing I don’t get. Why wouldn’t you be whole? What’s happened?”

“Life,” he said. “It’s just life.”

He released her and began to turn away, but she caught his arm. “Are you dangerous, Brent?”

That was the trickiest question she’d asked him yet. There’d been times in the past when he’d had to do things he didn’t want to do. If The Crew confronted him, he could be forced to kill again. But he’d never hurt anyone he hadn’t
had
to hurt in order to save his own life or someone else’s. “I’ve never harmed an innocent.”

Lines appeared on her forehead. He wasn’t doing much to ease her concerns. She’d probably never met anyone who’d taken a human life, except maybe a soldier, and that type of killing didn’t happen on American soil. His name, his occupation. Those were extraneous details. They described the shell of a person, weren’t representative of that person’s heart, so they didn’t count for all that much. But he couldn’t lie to her about the kind of man he was. That was going too far.

“An
innocent?
” she repeated. “Maybe you don’t realize it, but most men don’t talk like that.”

“I’m not most men, Eve. I admit it. I can’t give you the home and family you deserve. I can’t give you much of anything—except the next three weeks.” He framed her face with his hands. “But I hope that’ll be enough. That we can at least enjoy the time we’ve got. And I hope you know I’m
not
dangerous, not when it comes to you.”

She rubbed her temples as if she couldn’t decide, as if knew she should tell him to take a hike but was torn.

He raised her chin. “What do you say?”

Again, she didn’t answer, but after another brief hesitation she sighed, then pressed her lips to his bare chest, to his neck, his jaw and, in the end, his mouth.

* * *

They’d slept too late to catch breakfast at the B and B where they’d stayed, so they drove to a greasy spoon in Jackson to eat. They were just looking over the menu when Rex received an incoming call from an area code he recognized as from back east.

“Go ahead and order,” he told Eve, sliding out of the booth. “I’ll have the eggs Benedict. I’ve got to take this.”

After punching the talk button, he strode outside so he could have a conversation without being overheard. “Virgil?”

“There you are,” his friend said. “Where the hell have you been? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Why? Have you been trying to reach me?” They kept contact to a minimum, just to be safe. Virgil hadn’t wanted Rex to return to California. He thought it was asking for trouble. So the last thing Rex wanted was the risk he’d taken to lead The Crew to Virgil and his family. Virgil was more like a brother to him than his real brothers.

“I’ve called your office several times this week,” Virgil said.

“What for?”

“To see how you’re doing. But a Marilyn Burrows keeps telling me you’re ‘unavailable.’”

“Why didn’t you leave a message? She would’ve gotten it to me.”

“Just because
you
trust her doesn’t mean I do. I don’t trust anyone I don’t absolutely have to. That’s how we stay alive, remember? So I wasn’t about to say anything that might tip her off to the fact that you have a friend in New York.”

“She’s never even heard of The Crew.”

“But if something about you or your business comes to their attention, that doesn’t mean they won’t contact her.”

True. He and Virgil could never be too careful. “Then I’m glad we finally connected.”

“Me, too. I was getting ready to buy a plane ticket so I could come out there and look for your ass.”

Virgil would’ve dropped everything and done it, too. “There’s no need for you to leave your family,” Rex said. “I’m fine. But God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

There weren’t many things he missed about being incarcerated, but the camaraderie he’d shared with Virgil Skinner was one of them. Virgil had gone to prison at eighteen for murdering his stepfather. Although he was exonerated when certain crucial pieces of evidence came to light, he’d spent fourteen years behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit.

Rex couldn’t even imagine how angry that would have made
him.
At least he’d been guilty of the drug charges he’d been put away for a few years after Virgil went in. “How’re Peyton and the kids?”

“Great. Brady and Anna are growing like weeds. We’re thinking about having another baby.”

“Why not?” he said. “You guys are the kind of parents that should have several.”

“How’s your business going?”

“Can’t complain. Plenty of people out here need a little muscle and are willing to pay for it. What about yours?”

“Hired three more bodyguards last month.”

“That brings you to ten, doesn’t it?”

“So far. Any word from your family?”

“My
family?
” Rex repeated.

“Yeah. Your father. Your brothers. Remember them?”

He kicked a small rock as he began to pace on the sidewalk. “You know we barely talk.”

“I know they’re the reason you returned to California. So why aren’t you spending more time with them?”

He hadn’t been able to figure out how to bridge that gap. Still wasn’t sure. “It’s complicated. And they’re
not
the reason I returned.” Deep down he knew that was a lie, but his pride demanded he sell it, even though part of him wanted nothing more than to mend those old fences.

“Then why’d you do it? You’re certainly not any safer there.”

“I like this state. It’s home to me. And the weather sure as hell beats that refrigerator
you
live in.” He also hated to let The Crew dictate where he settled, so maybe there were several reasons.

Virgil laughed. “I like New York, but I can’t argue with you about the cold winters. Anyway, what’s going on? Your email said you’d heard from a mutual friend.”

“Mona.”

“Livingston?”

He pivoted and headed back toward the restaurant. “That’s right.”

“She still with The Crew?”

“She is. At this point, I don’t think she’ll ever get away from them. Or escape her addiction.” If getting off crank was half as bad as getting off OxyContin, Rex almost couldn’t blame her. He’d never forget the terrible days he’d spent all alone, shaking and sweating and throwing up in a bathtub in some fleabag motel in the worst part of L.A. That was the price of getting clean. He’d paid that price, but he wouldn’t wish so much suffering on his worst enemy. Just the memory of it was enough to keep him from backsliding, even though—after four years of sobriety—that old craving occasionally welled up, especially when he was stressed or feeling particularly lonely.

“She’s been a decent friend, despite her problems,” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for her. And you.”

Thanks to Mona, Rex had arrived in the nick of time to save his best friend’s life soon after he’d given up drugs. They both owed her a lot. “Well, she’s got more news.”

“From the tone of your voice, it’s not
good
news. But if she’s still with The Crew, are you sure it’s safe to remain in contact?”

“After she helped us before, I gave her a number where she could leave a message any time she was in trouble. It’s a Google number that goes to my email, nothing that could ever be traced to my physical location. Anyway, I hadn’t heard from her in so long, I forgot I’d even set that up. Until two weeks ago. Then I saw that I had a new message waiting for me.”

“From Mona.”

“That’s right. But she wasn’t asking for help. She was warning me that certain members of The Crew claim to have new information on my whereabouts. She didn’t say anything about you, but...I wanted to give you a heads-up, in case they’re on the hunt again.”

“They can’t find me.”

“Come on. It’s not impossible. They know we’re in the protection business, because that’s what we were doing when they found us in D.C. And what else are we going to do? What else are we qualified for?”

There was a long silence. Then Virgil said, “I hear ya. Just when we think it’s over, huh?”

“Those bastards won’t give up. If only we’d known how badly we’d want out when we joined them.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about that,” Virgil said. “We didn’t have any choice. Not if we wanted to survive. You remember what it was like in prison.”

He did. All too well. Without The Crew, he wouldn’t have had a prayer of getting through those years without being used by any number of men. The “bulls” in prison liked his appearance almost as much as the women he’d met outside, which was why The Crew and everybody else in Corcoran had called him Pretty Boy. “At least I deserve whatever I get. I was guilty of what they put me in for. I really was dealing drugs. That’s how I supported my own habit. But you? You shouldn’t have been in prison to begin with.”