Because You Love Me Page 8

  Matt scowled. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m trying to be serious here.”

  Mark sobered up. “I know that. And I am taking this seriously. There are a million reasons why this whole thing won’t work. I don’t give a shit about any of them. This is right. Picking it apart and studying it piece by piece isn’t going to change a damn thing. So, it looks like we just take this a day at a time, a step at a time, and hope for the best.”

  Matt’s frown deepened. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

  Mark laughed, then reached up to place a friendly hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m beat. What do you say we call it a night? It’s obvious Jake has convinced Rodney to stay in town for that damn moonlight bowling thing he loves so much.” It was well after midnight. The local alley held several special nights where they turned off the normal lights at midnight, casting the alley in nothing but black light. Jacob loved bowling in the glow-in-the-dark effect, laughing at how silly they all looked with their bright white shirts and gleaming teeth. Their kid brother had dragged them to the event more than a few times.

  Mark reached for a blanket and covered Bridget up. “She looks so peaceful, I hate to move her.”

  Matt agreed. “Let her stay. That couch is more comfortable than my bed. It’ll be late when Jake and Rodney get back. Jacob will probably put Rodney in the guest room when they see Bridget’s asleep.”

  “Yeah.” Mark grinned. “I like the idea of her sleeping here.”

  Matt put his hands in his pockets. “Be better if she was sleeping between us instead of alone out here.”

  “We try that tonight and she won’t get much sleep. My cock is about to explode.”

  Matt nodded sympathetically, then he gave Mark a wicked grin. “Yeah, mine too. But she’s too tired. She needs the rest. You know, it’s a shame I’m going to beat you to the cold shower.” As he said the last sentence, Matt took off down the hall, racing to the bathroom the two of them shared.

  Mark laughed, but didn’t attempt to outrun him. Matt had too much of a head start. Instead, he bent down in front of the couch and ran his hand lightly through Bridget’s soft hair. God only knew what tomorrow would bring. If he was lucky—very lucky—he’d find a way to convince her to stay in Saratoga for a while.

  Or forever.

  Footsteps pounded behind her, coming closer in the darkness. Bridget tried to run faster, but she’d already run too far. Her chest was on fire, the pains in her side excruciating. She’d never manage to escape this time. He was too quick, too close. She’d nearly reached the main road. Hopefully she could wave down a car. Right now that was her only hope for escape. Headlights pierced the pitch black night. She was so close. If only…

  Strong hands gripped her from behind. Bridget screamed, trying to break free. They tightened on her arms as she continued to struggle.

  She screamed louder as the headlights of the car blinded her.

  “No!” she yelled.

  “Bridget. Bridget!” A deep voice called her name, but she didn’t have time to respond. She needed to get away.

  “Let me go!”

  “Bridget. Open your eyes.” Another voice. A familiar one. A friendly one.

  She froze, her breathing and heart still in a race with each other, both moving too fast, too hard.

  “Open your eyes, darlin’.” Mark’s fingers brushed her cheek and she opened her eyes. “It’s just us.”

  Matt was sitting beside her on the couch, attempting to untangle her from a blanket.

  Neither man had time to say anything else because at that moment, Rodney burst through the front door, running at full speed, gun in hand, ready to do battle.

  “Wait!” Bridget cried, terrified her protector would shoot Mark or Matt. Rodney’s eyes were wild with fear and concern.

  “I heard you screaming,” Rodney said.

  She shrugged guiltily. “Nightmare.” She’d suffered far too many bad dreams since the night of Lyle’s murder, but none since arriving in Saratoga. She’d foolishly hoped they’d stopped coming.

  Rodney slowly lowered his gun, his relieved face revealing a new problem. Before Bridget could consider a solution, Jacob—who’d run into the room right on Rodney’s heels—asked the inevitable question.

  “Why do you have a gun, Rodney?”

  Rodney turned to face his new friend, and Bridget imagined she could see the spinning wheels in his mind searching for an answer. She wanted to tell the James brothers the truth. She knew with every fiber of her being that she could trust them. She also knew Rodney wouldn’t let her.

  “It’s my fault,” she said quickly.

  Rodney glanced at her, his face issuing a warning for silence. “Bridget.”

  The lie came to her in an instant, falling from her lips far too easily. Six months of hiding, pretending to be someone else, had taught her well. She’d become the queen of subterfuge and half-truths. “I got mixed up with a nasty guy in New York. We dated for a while, but then things turned sort of abusive. I tried to get away from him a few times, but he kept finding me. I even got a restraining order, but that didn’t help either. Rodney and I decided to get out of town, try to let things cool off. I thought we’d be safe here. I mean, Saratoga’s halfway across the country, for God’s sake.”

  Rodney nodded as she wove the tale, then added his own pile of crap to the lie. “I got a call from a friend a few days ago. She said she thought Lucian had figured out where we were. That’s why we were going to cut our vacation short.”

  Lucian. Judge Thompson. Bridget would have laughed at Rodney’s inventiveness if her heart weren’t aching. Lying to these men who’d offered her nothing less than kindness, friendship and the greatest orgasm of her life didn’t sit well with her.

  Throughout their impromptu storytelling, Bridget kept her gaze on Rodney’s face, too afraid to look at Matt and Mark. Were they buying this? What were they thinking?

  Finally, she looked. She glanced at Mark, then at Matt. Both of them were wearing identical scowls.

  “This is the secret you’ve been hiding?”

  Bridget thought there was a hint of disbelief lacing Matt’s tone, but she chalked it up to her own paranoia. She nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell us, Bridget? We would have helped keep you safe.” There was no mistaking the hurt in Mark’s question.

  “I was embarrassed,” she said. “I felt stupid.”

  Matt grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She wished that were true. She sniffled slightly, surprised by the strong desire to cry. She hadn’t cried once since Lyle’s death. “I’ve done so many things wrong.”

  Her conscience collapsed around her. She’d been a fool to put this family in danger, selfish to consider her own desires over their safety. What if Thompson had found her? Had arrived at this house tonight?

  She’d given these wonderful men no warning about the risk they were taking by just being with her. To add insult to injury, she heaped lie on top of lie and still they gathered around, willing to protect her against an unknown evil.

  One man had already died for her selfishness. She wouldn’t let anyone else pay that price.

  “We need to get back to the inn, Rodney.”

  Rodney nodded. “Yeah. I think maybe that would be best. Um…maybe you should get dressed.”

  She blinked in surprise, then glanced down, mortified to discover her bare legs sticking out from beneath the blanket. Mercifully, Rodney couldn’t see exactly how naked she was from the waist down.

  “Okay.”

  “Wait,” Matt said, putting his hand on her arm to prevent her from rising. “Why don’t you two spend the night here? Now that we know what’s going on, we’ll be better prepared.”

  She shook her head, fighting back the tears at his chivalrous offer. He had no idea what kind of shit storm awaited her. Even if Thompson’s henchman didn’t find her, she had no choice
but to return to New York City. While there, she’d continue to be sequestered during what was certain to be a highly publicized trial.

  “No.” She couldn’t continue with the charade. Much as her heart longed to stay here, she knew she’d only be living on borrowed time. That wasn’t fair to Matt and Mark. “We really should head back.”

  Wrapping the blanket securely around her, she headed toward the guest room and her own clothes. She’d only made it one step in the room when she felt a tear slide down her cheek. She batted it away quickly. Matt and Mark would never let her leave if they saw her crying. She took a deep breath and dressed quickly.

  All four men were standing in the living room when she returned. While Jacob looked disappointed, Matt and Mark looked downright miserable.

  “I had a great time.” She felt like she owed them at least a little bit of truth. The reality was tonight had been one of the best evenings of her life. She reached for Matt’s hand, then took Mark’s in her other. Squeezing tightly, she smiled, trying to hide the sadness behind it. “Honestly. You’re both amazing men. I can’t thank you enough for…” She paused, a million words flying through her mind—the riding lessons, the omelet, the friendship, the sex. Finally, she just said, “Everything.”

  Mark’s face darkened. “You make this sound like a good-bye.”

  While it had to be farewell, she also realized how much harder this would be if they knew she was planning to run. “Does it? I don’t mean it that way. I guess I’m just overly tired. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  And that was the most painful lie of all. She swallowed, but the lump forming in her throat held tight. She was saved from having to speak again when Rodney stepped up beside her.

  “You ready to go, Bridge?”

  She nodded and let him lead her away from the ranch.

  Away from them.

  Chapter Six

  Bridget opened her eyes the next morning, then closed them again quickly to shut out the bright stream of morning sunshine.

  Still here, she thought.

  She and Rodney had gotten into a hushed-voices version of World War III last night after Jacob dropped them off at the B&B. It had been their first major disagreement since being thrust into each other’s lives six months earlier.

  When they’d tiptoed up to their room shortly before two a.m., Bridget had been ready to start packing their bags immediately, but Rodney told her she was overreacting. She’d just managed one of the most difficult tasks of her life—walking away from Matt and Mark in order to keep them safe—and he said she was overreacting?

  Her head had exploded as they heatedly argued—in whispers lest they wake up the other patrons of the inn—for nearly an hour. She’d lost the fight.

  Rodney informed her they had nowhere to go and no money to purchase transportation out of town. He also insisted that he was determined to crack Lyle’s code and find that flash drive. According to him, he couldn’t go back to New York without it and expect to keep his job. Even with it, he feared he was facing the unemployment line. Rodney intended to continue searching for Ellen, the godmother, even though Bridget was beginning to think that clue was as wrong as “God’s grave” had been.

  She’d told him as much and then accused him of only wanting to stick around for Jacob. Rodney got angry and said she only wanted to run because she was hot for two cowboys and too chicken to do anything about it. After that, they’d gone to bed, the silence in the room suffocating her until she finally managed to drop into a restless sleep.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  She didn’t open her eyes or acknowledge Rodney’s comment. She was still mad.

  Her bed dipped and she felt Rodney’s thigh press against hers as he sat next to her. “Bridget? I’m sorry about last night.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. She didn’t like the tired look in his eyes or the sadness on his face.

  “I’m sorry too.” She was. She’d been overwrought. Her mother always accused her of being melodramatic. Last night had been a perfect example of that character flaw.

  Rodney grinned. “Things always look better in the morning.”

  She considered the fact they were stuck in a strange town with no money and a hit man on their trail, and were no closer to finding the flash drive. Then she remembered Matt and Mark, the way they’d caressed and kissed her last night. She smiled too. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

  “So I take it you and Jacob had a good time last night?”

  Rodney leaned closer, his face answering her question without words. He looked downright cheerful. “It was okay.”

  She laughed, picking up her pillow and lobbing it at his head. “You go to hell for lying.”

  He dodged her blow. “Hey, I’d say in comparison with your evening, my night was only okay. I just can’t imagine how your pants—and panties—ended up on the floor.”

  Fucking observant cop. “I’m not answering that.”

  “Come on, kitten. We’ve been living celibate lives here. You gotta give me some details. Inquiring minds want to know. Which James twin were you with?”

  She blushed. She thought he’d figured it out already, but apparently he hadn’t. Saying it aloud was going to be tough. “I wasn’t with either of them. We just sort of fooled around some.”

  Rodney nodded. “Okay. So you fooled around. Who with?”

  She opened her mouth, determined to put him off, but then she thought better of it. She needed advice. Bad.

  “Both of them.”

  Rodney was silent for only a moment, and when he opened his mouth, it wasn’t to speak or judge or condemn her. It was worse. He laughed. Loudly.

  Her temper was piqued. “This isn’t funny.”

  Rodney continued to chuckle. “You’re damn right, it’s not. It’s fucking hot. Holy shit, girlfriend. I knew you were pretty cool, but I had no idea—”

  She smacked him on the shoulder. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Hell, I’ve never even had a one-night stand. This is just…” She threw her arms out in frustration. “I need advice here. I’m flying blind. Big time.”

  “And you think I can tell you how to proceed in this little threesome you’re indulging in? Don’t mean to disillusion you, Bridge, but I suck at dating one person at a time.”

  “You don’t think I’m, oh, I don’t know, sort of slutty for messing around with both of them?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have a slutty bone in your body. Do you think this is normal for them? I mean, maybe it’s a twin thing.”

  “No,” she replied quickly. “They said last night it was new for them too. I’m not sure why I’m even letting myself get carried away with this. We have to leave soon and then—”

  A knock at the door prevented her from finishing.

  Rodney stood and opened the door. Matt and Mark stood in the threshold. She glanced at the clock. After their late-night argument, she and Rodney had slept in. It was nearly eleven o’clock.

  “Still in bed, sleepyhead?” Matt asked.

  Rodney came to her defense. “We had a bit of a rough night. Thought we’d treat ourselves to a lazy morning.”

  Mark walked in to the room, concern written on his face. “More bad dreams?”

  She shook her head. “No. It was nothing really. Everything’s better today.”

  “Good,” Matt said, entering the room and lifting up a basket. “Because we’re taking you on a picnic.”

  “A picnic?” She laughed. “It’s February. And freezing outside.”

  Mark shrugged, unconcerned. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “Inside, where it’s warm,” she joked.

  Matt shook the basket lightly under her nose, the scent of fried chicken causing her hungry stomach to growl. “Seems a shame to waste this big lunch.”

  “Where are you taking her?” Rodney asked.

  Mark never missed a beat. “It’s a secluded place on the James Ranch, Rodney. No one will see her ther
e. Promise.”

  Rodney seemed appeased by his answer. “Sounds like fun, Bridge. You should go.”

  “What about the ranch? The horse training. Surely you haven’t finished all your chores.”

  Matt picked up her jeans from the floor and tossed them to her. “There’s a local guy who helps out sometimes whenever one of us is sick or we need a day off. All work and no play…”

  Mark headed back toward the door. “Get dressed. We’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  “Okay.” Her head chastised her heart, which was racing at the thought of spending an entire afternoon alone with the handsome twins again. She’d been so determined last night to avoid them, to keep them safe.

  The door closed and she looked up, surprised to find Rodney still there.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m weak-willed and stupid.”

  He walked over and sat down beside her once more. “No, you’re not. You’re a beautiful woman who’s falling in love.”

  “I don’t deserve to fall in love. Not after what happened with Lyle. If I hadn’t insisted that he bring me that information instead of going to the cops—”

  “Stop,” Rodney said firmly, his voice laced with anger. “Don’t you ever say that again. You were not responsible for Lyle’s death. He called you. He offered you the information.”

  “I should have told him no. Told him to go straight to the police. Instead, all I could think about was myself. I wanted that damn promotion so badly. God, I screwed it all up. I should have insisted we meet in public instead of that abandoned warehouse. I should have put my recorder somewhere where it would have actually picked up voices. I should have insisted we take backup.”

  “You can’t live your life based on should have, Bridget. Lyle was a grown man. He knew what he had. His death was not your fault. Lucian Thompson killed him. Not you. You’re a good friend. You’ve put your life on hold for months so that you can see that murderer brought to justice. You’re risking your life to find the information that can bring down God knows how many more criminals as well.”