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Cover Me

Cover Me (Elite Force #1)(52)
Author: Catherine Mann

He shoved to his feet and turned to leave.

“Brett. Wait.” Her words were tight. She wasn’t over her anger, but then neither was he.

Stopping, he still didn’t turn. He struggled to rein in his temper, reminding himself that sex was a sensitive subject for Andrea since the skiing accident.

Did he miss their old life? Hell yes. He wanted Andrea healthy again, and was willing to do anything to make that happen. But he thought they’d worked through the whole physical-intimacy issue. He’d told her it was an invitation to be more inventive and she’d taken up the challenge as firmly as he had. They had a full—although different—sex life.

And he wasn’t willing to give that or her up because he’d been a dumb ass and used his home computer for some of his correspondence, which would ultimately make their dreams possible.

Thank God she hadn’t stumbled on anything worse. His thumb drives with lists of names and contacts were safely locked away at work, with an emergency stash of getaway cash. Just in case.

“Yes?” he said, half glancing over his shoulder.

Her chin tipped. God, the woman had an expressive face, every nuance of her anger, confusion and pain shouting from the fine-boned features he’d loved for fifteen years. “Brett, don’t play word games with me. There’s a difference between screwing around and having an emotional affair. It’s clear from the emails that you haven’t met in person yet.”

Her quick brain turned him on every bit as much as her beautiful body. He let himself smile for the first time since she’d hurled the inconceivable accusation at him. “I am not having an emotional affair with anyone. I am not trolling the Internet for babes. You are my one and only babe.”

She searched his eyes for eight thumps of his pulse before nodding curtly. “Okay, I believe you.”

Relief gut-punched him. She raised her arm, the one without the stylus, and stroked her wrist along his face. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of her skin against his, the scent of her, like a Bali orchid. Just breathing in her perfume stirred him, making him ache to show her just how much he wanted only her.

“Andrea.” He groaned her name into her curled palm.

Her arms slid farther upward to hook around his neck and draw him toward her. He leaned closer and claimed her mouth. His wife. His lover.

She eased back, eyeing him more seriously than he’d hoped.

“Brett, you know this means we’re going to have to hire a new helper.”

“I’m not following.” He leaned back against the sleek steel desk.

“If you didn’t send those messages, then somebody did, and she’s the only other one who knows the password. She must have let her college-age son use our computer for his online courses.” Andrea’s fine, narrow jaw jutted. She was a tough woman who didn’t tolerate betrayal. “That poor girl Misty is going to be so disappointed when she finds out her ‘Brett’ isn’t at all what she thought.”

And yet again, his brilliant wife was 100 percent on the mark.

His brilliant, beautiful wife.

Brett leaned to kiss her again, sliding his arms under her legs and lifting her against his chest. He would show her exactly how much he still wanted her.

And in the morning, he would launch the final stage at financing the life Andrea deserved.

***

Sunny felt Wade’s hand fist on the back of her parka a second before he lifted her off her feet and thrust her behind him. The engine rumbled louder, roaring down the trail toward them.

From the direction of her village.

She thought about reassuring him it was probably nothing bad, but they both knew people had been murdered near here and they still had no confirmation that the deputy had acted alone. Until then, staying on alert made sense.

There wasn’t anywhere to hide. No substantial trees, less than a half dozen short, stunted conifers, and plenty of craggy rock. What had once seemed majestic now felt painfully barren.

The growl of the engine, the crunch of the tires with chains eating up the ice neared, with another odd scraping sound. A three-foot wall of snow sluiced around the corner a second before—

A snowplow came into sight, a familiar snowplow on the front of a twenty-year-old blue Ford, carefully maintained for the Everett family business.

She gasped in recognition as she stared at the couple on the other side of the windshield. Even with the sun glinting off the glass, she could see the pair well enough.

Oh God, her sister had left the community after all. And since there was no way in hell Misty would ever speak to Flynn again, the Everett twin beside her must be Ryker.

Wade shifted in front of her, muscles rippling under his snow gear, his arm moving until he reached beneath the hem of his parka. He pulled out a heavy black gun—a 9 mm, she was pretty sure, the same one she’d seen him carrying before. He was careful to keep it out of sight of the truck, gripping the weapon behind his back.

“Wade…” She gripped his arms. “It’s my sister. It’s Misty.”

“And the guy with her?” he barked over his shoulder. “Do you trust him?”

Did she trust Ryker Everett? She’d turned down date offers from the dope-smoking conspiracy theorist. But she’d always thought him harmless. She never thought twice if she was ever alone with him at the gym. Not that he even came by alone anymore, now that he was married with a kid on the way. So did she trust him?

“If you had asked me that last week, I would have said yes, unequivocally. But now?” She braced herself as the brakes squealed on the truck, Misty’s eyes going wide inside. “I don’t know who I trust anymore.”

“Fair enough.” Wade slipped the gun into the pocket of his parka. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

Chapter 15

Wade kept his hand tucked away in his parka, holding the 9 mm as the snowplow slowed in front of him. Morning sun glinted off the windshield of the rusted-out blue truck with one helluva blade across the front channeling snow into a tidal wave that rolled over the cliff’s edge.

Wind tore at his clothes, pummeling him so hard, Sunny gripped his coat to anchor herself behind him, her jagged-edged knife still in hand. He slid his other arm behind him to make sure she stayed on her feet.

She whispered from behind him. “My sister, Misty, is sitting in the passenger side.”

He should have guessed that right away, since fear of Misty leaving had driven Sunny up this frozen hell on earth in the first place. Chances of running into a stranger up here were pretty slim.

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