Ravaged River: Men of Mercy, Book 6: A Military Romance Series Page 12

  Like picking her up and twirling her around in a circle. Or kissing the back of her hand. Just the thought, let alone the image, of Malik’s mouth on her hand made him nauseous. If the man truly was a member of a sleeper cell, she had been so close to danger…

  “He called to check on me, and I didn’t know how to take it. But I do now.” Hayden took his hand. “You remember how we used to make out on the couch?” His mind went blank.

  She drew him back to the worn leather sofa, and he was helpless to do anything but follow her.

  He sank into the cushions and she pushed him back, kind of falling on top of him. He was surrounded by her scent, a mixture of a bright spring day and vanilla. Hoyt knew he shouldn’t, but he inhaled deep, taking in everything he could.

  “I do,” she continued. “I remember how hot it was. And how much I wanted you.” She paused and Hoyt closed his eyes, her nearness overwhelming his senses. “How much I still want you.”

  Hoyt remembered, he remembered that look of pure adoration she used to give him. He opened his eyes. That same look was on her face.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  Hoyt realized she was straddling him and somehow he was palming her ass. Her perfect, beautiful ass. And then her lips were touching his, whisper soft, and his brain short-circuited. He couldn’t close his eyes and he couldn’t move, so he held real still and let her take control.

  Up close, he noticed the gentle arch in her blonde eyebrows and how they seem to match every other gentle curve in her body.

  And then she leaned back, her smile full of self-satisfaction. “There, that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

  He knew she was holding him with kid gloves. He should be angry, or at the very least offended. He was, after all, a special forces operative. But all he felt was hot and achy.

  Hayden sighed and sat down, leaving him to bear her full weight on his thighs. Hell, his rucksack weighed more than her.

  “You’re not in a talkative mood today, huh?” Her big blue eyes studied him intently. She lifted her hand from his shoulder, and he sucked in a breath, knowing what she was going to do before she even touched him.

  Hoyt squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth together. Waiting for the pain…and for a sound of disgust from the back of her throat. But all he felt was the soft pad of her finger on his cheek, tracing the smooth line down to his jaw. His chest felt tight, like his lungs couldn’t decide whether or not to let him breath. His hands shook and he balled them into tight fists beside his legs.

  She was breathing just as hard as he was, but unlike Hoyt, Hayden wasn’t locked down tighter than fucking Fort Knox. She was loose and languid as she continued to trace his jaw. His chin. Down his throat.

  He flushed hot. Too hot. The air grew thick and heavy around him.

  Hayden continued her journey, edging back up and across his shoulders, his muscles bunching everywhere she touched.

  Hoyt kept his eyes screwed shut and concentrated on his breathing. He could do this. The woman he wanted more than anyone was in the process of trying to seduce him. He should be ecstatic.

  Then he felt her soft palms cup his jaw, trapping his face between her hands, and his chest locked down.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  She thumbed his scar, the big ugly one running down his left cheek. Hot acid lit up his skin.

  “Hoyt?”

  He could feel the knife slicing into his flesh over and over and over again in never ending agony. His tormentors’ shrill laughter as they sliced and diced him.

  “Hoyt, what’s wrong?”

  He forced his eyes open, forced himself to look at Hayden and not his captor, but she seemed so far away. He felt himself falling. Falling back into that shack in the woods.

  Oh God, he couldn’t breathe. He had to get up, get outside, but Hayden was holding him down.

  She set her palm against his cheek. He reacted out of primal instinct, slapping a hand on her wrist and forcing her away from him.

  She cried out but he couldn’t make his fingers slacken. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

  Her beautiful blue eyes now wide with fright, she nodded fast. Holding onto the last thread of control he possessed, he sat her away from him. Then he rocketed off the couch and ran out the back door. The warm sun on his face, he clenched his fists by his sides, threw his head back, and roared.

  And then his hands were on his knees and he was gasping for air, grasping at the frayed straws of his control. How could he have done that to her? How could he grab her like that? He didn’t deserve anything but a one-way ticket to hell.

  “Hoyt! Are you okay?” Hayden touched his arm.

  He jerked. “Hayden, don’t touch me. You can’t be around me. I can’t…I can’t…I just can’t.”

  “You don’t have to do anything. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice was hesitant, wavering.

  Hoyt drew in another breath, using all his concentration to get his body back under control. One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.

  Her feet appeared before him. “Do you remember that day last August, when the temperature hit like a thousand degrees and you took me down to the river to swim?”

  Hoyt nodded. Three one-thousand. Four one-thousand. Fuck, his lungs felt like they were filled with tar instead of air. The ice in his hands and feet spread up his limbs like tentacles through his body, filling it with darkness and death.

  Cold. He was so cold.

  “Remember how we laid out on the sandbar? You could dig your fingers and toes down deep and still feel the heat. And the sun was big and bright and straight overhead. It was pure heaven. Just me and you.”

  Hayden’s melodic voice eased into his awareness and he took a deep breath.

  “Think about that, think about how soft the sand was sifting through your fingers. How we dug our toes into it. You got so hot, sweat was pouring off your chest. Finally, you ran and jumped in the river, remember?”

  He did remember. He’d told her that he’d be fine laying out in the sun with her just so they could be next to each other, when in truth he’d been pouring buckets of sweat from the insane August heat. But he’d refused to move for the longest time.

  And he remembered how her soft fingers had threaded through his and gently traced the lines creasing his palm. She’d exclaimed over the calluses from his gun.

  “We brought our fishing poles, and you’re the one who set everything up. But I was the one who caught the biggest catfish. And even though it was ridiculous, you took the fish off the hook for me because I thought it was too slimy and gross.”

  Hoyt closed his eyes, feeling the warmth from that summer day wrap around him. After all of Hayden’s joking about being such a tough country girl, he’d been shocked and secretly delighted when she refused to take the fish off the hook. It had made him feel needed, even if it was in a ridiculously small and silly way. She’d always make him feel needed and wanted.

  “When I dumped that load of sand down your shorts, you threw me off the bluff into the river and I stayed underwater for so long you dove in after me.”

  Hoyt opened his eyes and straightened. “You scared me to death. I was starting to think you couldn’t swim.”

  Hayden inched forward, the smile on her lips as warm as it had been that day. “You should’ve guessed that with Hunter and Ranger as my older brothers I’ve learned a few tricks.”

  He’d dove in after her in a panic, swimming and swimming, only to have her sneak up behind him and wrap her arms around him.

  “Don’t you ever do that to me again.” His voice was stern, but that wasn’t how he felt on the inside. And he could breathe again without his chest burning.

  Hayden shook her head. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  *

  When Hoyt smiled she nearly shattered. It had worked. The visualization technique she’d learned about in her clinical classes had really worked.

  It had broken her heart to recall that happy memory, but she was th
e one who’d put Hoyt into this tailspin of panic. And it was taking every ounce of her control right now not to break down in tears and throw herself into his arms. Her man was broken and beautiful, and she could kick herself for having given up on him so fast.

  Hayden made a promise to herself right then and there. No matter what he said or did from here on out, she wasn’t going to give up on him again.

  He needed baby steps from her, not a full-fledged sensual attack. Even if it took months, she would wait, praying every step of the way he would come back to her.

  Baby steps.

  “How about we take a walk? You know we only have a few weeks left before it hits a hundred degrees.”

  More of the tension eased from his shoulders and Hoyt nodded. “How about we muck around in the back pasture?”

  Perfect.

  Hayden crossed the backyard. The huge rectangular pasture was carved out in perfectly straight lines from the trees flanking its sides. Here, Hank allowed the grass to grow tall and free, littered with wild flowers. When the wind blew, the grass danced in green waves, bending and swaying with the current.

  Hayden liked to imagine it was a wild Irish meadow, the color was so green it was impossible to nail down the exact shade. Interspersed with the grass were bright patches of yellow Goldenrod and purple Coneflowers that grew as tall as her waist. She took a right at the perimeter, where Hank had bush hogged a wide walking path all the way around. Hoyt kept pace with her, his hands tucked behind his back, fingers locked together. They turned the first corner, which put them between the field and a wall of tall pines with trunks so big around, her arms couldn’t even span half the diameter.

  Hayden bent down and picked up a stray pine cone, careful to hold the sharp points gently in her hand. She used to love to come back here and hide in the tall grass to fool her brothers. This had always been a place of happiness for her. And in times of sadness, it fortified her and renewed her strength and energy.

  Hayden spied a cluster of yellow near the center of the field. “Can we go out there?”

  Hoyt followed the direction she was pointing. Then he scanned the forest around them, his gaze calculating, like he was searching for something. After a full minute, he replied in the affirmative.

  He went to the edge of the tall grass and stopped. Hayden strode right past him, heading into the field, holding her arms waist high, palms down. The tops of the grass tickled her forearms. She was surrounded by everything home—now she just had to make Hoyt feel at home too. “I want to pick some flowers for Maxine and Dad. I need to tell them I’m sorry. About this morning.”

  “I told them about your professor. Neither of them are upset with you. You don’t really have anything to apologize for.”

  In all the madness of the morning, she’d managed to forget Professor Latham. The tears threatened to surface in her eyes again, but she pushed them back. “No. There’s no excuse for my behavior.”

  They were in the middle of the field now, right next to the flowers. Hoyt plucked one and spun it between his thumb and finger. “Still stubborn.”

  Hayden glanced over, and Hoyt’s breathtaking blue eyes were locked right on her. Her heart stopped for a brief moment, the deep connection between them rekindling. And then he looked down at the flower in his hands and the current vanished.

  Hayden wanted to reach out, yank that feeling back and hold it tight to her chest. Instead, she blinked and reached for a flower. “I suspect Hank would agree with you.”

  Hayden bunched the Goldenrod together and held them out to Hoyt. “Would you hold these?”

  He cradled them carefully, like he was afraid to break the tiny stems.

  Warmth flooded through her, but Hayden averted her face. Spotting a patch of purple cornflowers, she walked to the back edge of the pasture, careful to keep her smile hidden from him. If Hoyt Crowe were truly broken, he would’ve crushed the flowers in his grip. And instead of carefully setting her off his lap earlier, he would’ve thrown her across the room.

  Somehow she had to get him to see that the old Hoyt was still in there. That he had just changed and grown.

  “Hayden, I need to talk to you about something important.” His voice dipped down deep and a shiver slid down her spin. Whatever he wanted to say wasn’t good. Not if his tone was any indication.

  Hayden waded through the waist-high pasture, unwilling to break the spell just yet. She had to figure out a way to help Hoyt mend his scars. “Let me grab some of those flowers near the edge.”

  The wind blew and the field whooshed all around them. Don’t get in too deep, it seemed to say.

  She agreed with the professor. You can’t help someone if you get too close to them to remain objective. The problem was, Hayden James had been in too deep from the very beginning.

  Hayden reached the back edge of the field and picked a flower. The tall trees looming across the path, thick and dark. Tall spikes jutting up into the sky. “You know these only grow…”

  Something crashed in the woods in front of them. Before Hayden could form a thought, Hoyt threw her to the ground behind him. Her heart skittered wild and fast as she pushed up on her hands. “What is it?”

  Hoyt towered over her, pistol drawn, his expression deadly. “Stay down.”

  Every trace of softness was gone. In its place was a cold ruthless machine carefully zeroing in on its target. The crashing grew louder. Hoyt sighted his weapon.

  Hayden covered her ears and slammed her eyes shut, waiting for the gunshot.

  First there was a crash. Then a pounding noise like a gallop. She cracked her eyes, unable to stand the tension.

  A magnificent buck had pulled up in the clearing, his head reared back, his black eyes fixed on the intruders.

  “A deer.” Hoyt slowly lowered his weapon as the buck shook its tan coat and took off, crashing back into the woods.

  “A deer,” Hayden echoed, her brain not yet functioning.

  She put a hand on her chest, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Hoyt had reacted so fast. She’d barely had time to think. Still couldn’t think.

  Hoyt tucked his pistol into the waist band at his back. He held out a hand, helped her to her feet and then stepped back, out of the pasture and onto the shorn path.

  “I’m sorry,” Hoyt said.

  The bouquet of wildflowers lay at her feet. Crushed into the earth.

  Hayden took a breath. Baby steps. Remember, baby steps.

  18

  Christ, he’d hurt her. Again. The sudden noise had switched him to killer mode, ready to obliterate any threat. Now Hayden stood there, waist deep in the pasture, wringing her hands. There were tears in her eyes, and he’d put them there. He’d even crushed her flowers.

  Hoyt reigned in his ferocity, trying to figure out how to mend her trampled feelings now that he knew the threat was a deer not a possible terrorist. “I’m sorry.”

  “Really, it’s okay, they were just a bunch of wildflowers.” But her chin wobbled and she spun around and walked back toward Hank’s house.

  Idiot. He was so callous and unthinking and undeserving. If he were smart, he’d keep his distance.

  But Hoyt took off jogging and fell in next to her, slowing to match her pace. Hayden cut him a quick glance, her lips tugged down. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” Hoyt said.

  “Like I’m breakable or something.”

  “I don’t think you’re fragile. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” He meant it. She had faced a town full of scandal and gossip and kept right on going. Yeah, she’d screwed up, she’d slept with a married man, who also used to be Ranger’s best friend, but she’d admitted her mistake and apologized and moved on. Most people would have skipped town. She was strong, brave and proud.

  “Strong people don’t cry this much.” Hayden picked up her pace, beating him to the back door, and swept inside.

  Hoyt followed her through the door and shut it behind them. Hank’s kitchen was all ma
n. Dark tile, dark walls, dark counters. His rustic wood cabinets stretched to the left and a hand-made table stood off to the right, flanked by thick wood benches.

  Everything about this place screamed bachelor pad. Everything but the pictures covering every spare space.

  At that moment, Hoyt wanted to be part of that family more than he wanted anything else. He’d never had that. Never had a dad to take pictures of him holding up his first fish or standing in his swim trunks with his arm around his brother. Two skinny, knobby-kneed kids with huge grins on their faces.

  Or maybe even a picture of him and Hayden, with their own growing family.

  His brother had done the best he could but part of Hoyt still mourned the loss of their parents and their childhood.

  Stop it. You know better than to dream.

  He heard a drawer slam down the hall, followed by Hayden’s mutter.

  Now what? He had to stride down there and tell her more bad news. Hoyt turned back to the pictures on the mantle, letting his gaze linger on the last one of Hayden and her big grin. Nothing about him or the news he had to tell her would restore that look of unfiltered joy. Somehow, he would find a way to put that smile back on her face, just not today.

  But who better to deliver bad news than Hoyt?

  He squared his shoulders and walked down the wood-paneled hall to her bedroom. Her door was open and she paced from her dresser to her bed. He hated seeing her like this, but dammit, what he had to tell her was about to make it a lot worse. “Hayden, stop pacing.”

  She kept going like he hadn’t said a word. Hoyt propped a shoulder against the door frame and watched her small quick steps.

  Hoyt took a deep breath and crossed the room. He snagged her hand. Heat, white hot like electricity, zinged up his arm.

  Hayden stared up at him with wide beautiful eyes and he got lost in the small golden flecks mixed in with the blue. Then she glanced down to where his fingers encircled her wrist. When she looked back up, there was hope in her eyes.

  His mouth went dry. Say something. “I’ll get you more flowers.”

  She didn’t move or blink, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. And then her gaze turned liquid silver, and he knew. He knew from the way his body reacted, his heart pounding slow and hard, his skin tingling with awareness.