Page 8

CHAPTER 7

“Put that down.” Dawson grabbed the drone case from Audra’s hand and tossed it to the sofa. He held her by the biceps.

Someone didn’t want her out there. Whether it was because they didn’t want her poking around that island or they didn’t like her returning, he didn’t know. But he was determined to find out. However, he couldn’t do that if she was going to fight him every step of the way.

“Don’t manhandle me.” She shrugged her arms free. Her big teal-green eyes conveyed hurt, not anger, and he’d put that look there.

Why were redheads so damn feisty all the time?

“I’m not your problem. This isn’t anything you need to concern yourself with.” She bent over, reaching for the bag.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mumbled, stepping between her and the door. “I’m trying to help you. Just because I don’t see what you do doesn’t mean I don’t believe you. Why can’t you see that?”

“You belittled me, and you…you…” She blinked, staring at him with her mouth gaping open.

He raked his fingers through his damp hair. “I would never do that, and tomorrow, I’ll go to that island and look around.”

She narrowed her eyes as if she hadn’t heard what he’d said. “I can handle that myself.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared. Her green eyes shot daggers. If looks could kill, he’d been dead.

“Absolutely not.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

She was worse than Lilly’s four-year-old when he threw a temper tantrum. “If you go out there alone, I’m worried something bad will happen. Someone shot down your drone and screwed with your boat. Put dynamite on it, and we don’t know the intent. None of those things were accidents. Don’t be too stupid to live.”

Her eyes grew wide. She gasped.

Damn. He’d really botched that one.

“You’ve got some nerve. How dare you say something like that to me.” She raised her hand, finger pointed as if to poke him in the chest. “Wait. What?” She blinked a dozen times rapidly as if the last ten minutes had finally registered.

“Is it so hard to comprehend that I believe every word you’re telling me?” He cocked a brow. “Now, why don’t you calm down and I’ll tell you what I plan on doing and what I need you to do, to keep you safe from whoever wants you to go away.”

Her eyes turned to tiny little slits again.

Shit. He always managed to say the wrong thing.

“Who the hell do you think you are telling me to calm down? I don’t need some two-bit small-town cop to protect me. You’re a bully and a control freak.”

He sighed. “Jesus, you’re worse than Liz,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean any of it that way. I’m really on your side. I swear.”

“Who the hell is Liz?”

“My ex-girlfriend.” He waved his hand over the top of her head. “Redhead, just like you, and thought I was a bastard and sexist pig.”

“I think Liz and I could’ve been friends.”

He bent over, grabbing his knees, and burst out laughing. Picturing the two of them even having a conversation was more than he could take. Talk about oil and water.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” She tossed the bag back on the sofa, turned, and snagged her beer, chugging the rest of it. She placed the bottle on the counter. Then, her lips curved into a smile.

At least now, he’d managed to amuse the woman. That was a start.

Leaning against the door, he cleared his throat. “Of all the women I dated in my life, Liz was the only one who wasn’t outdoorsy. Nope. She was the designer handbag, fake nails, and weekly hair salon kind of girl. And those expensive shoes. I can’t stand shoes like that. Between the red hair and those damn heels, I should’ve known.”

“You have a thing against redheads?”

“Unfortunately, I have a thing for redheads. I just don’t like expensive shoes. Hell, I don’t like anyone who wastes money on frivolous things.” He waggled his finger. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who would drop a grand on a handbag.”

“I wouldn’t spend that kind of money on anything other than a gun.”

He chuckled. “That’s why I was laughing. Liz would’ve hated you, and I’m sure the feeling would’ve been mutual. A daddy longlegs made her squeal like she was about to be eaten by a gator.”

“That’s kind of a mean thing to say about your ex.”

“You should hear what she has to say about me.” He chuckled. “Of course, I would’ve proven one or two of her points with how I fumbled through this conversation when all I’m trying to do is show you that I want to help figure this out.”

“You’re forgiven for your fumble,” she said. “Outside of the hair, why did you date her if she wasn’t your type?”

“I was trying something new since I have terrible luck with the ladies.” That was an understatement.

“Maybe it’s not the women that’s the problem, but you?” She sipped. “Ever think about that?” She tilted her head and smiled as if she just won the grand prize.

“You’re funny.” He pushed from the door. “Get me another one, and let’s sit down and talk calmly.”

“Stop ordering me around, and I’ll be more receptive. I mean, I don’t dislike you or anything. As a matter of fact, I find you rather…interesting.” She pulled another longneck from the fridge, pulled the top off it, and handed it to him. “But there is nothing worse than a man who barks orders like a buffoon.”

“I apologize. It’s been a long day.” He chuckled. “And is being interesting a compliment?”

“From me, it is.” She smiled. “Oh. Before we went off the rails, I wanted to tell you that I saw those two city boys you and Remy arrested at Massey’s Pub tonight when I drove by. It looked like they were deep in conversation with Benson.”

“With Benson? Seriously? I stopped at Massey’s before I came home to chat with those two idiots, and I didn’t see Benson.” He took a seat on the sofa, lifted his legs, and stretched them out, resting his feet on the coffee table. “Those two are one of the reasons I’m in a foul mood. They’re renting a cabin here, and I can’t legally kick them out.”

“That makes me nervous, considering what those two did.”

“Me, too.” He sighed, rounding his shoulders and contemplating why he not only trusted a woman he’d just met but why he’d break all the rules for another redhead. “Can you keep your distance from them?” He tossed back half his beer.

“I can promise I won’t start anything since I don’t know them, but I won’t keep my mouth closed if they come at me.”

“Fair enough.” He patted his hand on the cushion. “Can you be quiet for ten minutes while I tell you what my plan is?”

“Yeah.” She plopped down next to him. “But can I say something first?” She tilted her head and battled her eyelashes.

This woman was going to be the death of him. “Sure.”

“Since my return, I remember things.”

“You mentioned that, and I want to get to that topic when I’m done.”

“Okay, but I’m wondering if maybe Trevor Williams could’ve had something to do with my dad’s death.” She arched a brow.

“That thought has crossed my mind in the last couple of hours, but he wasn’t a cop at the time of your dad’s disappearance.” He’d be a fool not to wonder that based on what he’d learned about Trevor’s past—not to mention how Trevor had made it possible for the drugs to come right through Calusa Cove from Mexico. While the DEA had shut down that particular run, Trevor had only been able to give up one name, and by the time the DEA had gotten to that man, he was dead.

They knew the cartel was running the drugs into the country through other means. Trevor had told everyone that’s all he’d known about. His role had been to turn a blind eye and let the ships and trucks pass right on through town—or run interference.

Dawson didn’t buy it. Trevor knew more. Either he was afraid, or he had been promised something to keep his mouth shut.

Like protection in prison. Protection for his family.

Or both.

However, something had been going on in the Everglades long before that.

As well, Dawson had another dilemma he needed to deal with, and that was how much to tell Audra about his personal thoughts and how much digging he planned on doing.

“He left town shortly after my dad disappeared,” she said. “Don’t you find that suspicious?”

Good Lord. She was a rabid Chihuahua. “Maybe, but answer me this—when did Benson leave town?”

She narrowed her stare. “Maybe a year earlier. He got a job in Miami. I don’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t get into trouble like Trevor did. We should talk to Trevor.”

“There is no we , and it’s time for you to listen.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow, I’m going to let you use my personal airboat and drone.”

“Gee, that’s mighty big of you.”

He turned and glared. The more she opened her mouth, the more he wanted to do one of two things—either lift her off the sofa and toss her out into the humid night or toss her on his bed and shut her up in other ways.

There was something very wrong with him. This combativeness between the two of them shouldn’t be such a turn-on.

“I was being sarcastic. It comes with the hair.” She raised her hand. “Go on.”

“I have some police work I have to do in the morning, so I’m not thrilled about sending you out there alone, but Hayes is going to be right on your tail as much as he can be without it looking creepy.”

“Sounds like fun, though I’d rather have you on my tail.”

He closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. If she made one more snide remark, he was going to hush her by sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Yeah, he had issues.

He cleared his throat. “You and I will have long-range walkie-talkies so we can communicate. You will go about python hunting like you want that damn prize money.” He lowered his chin. “When I’m done with cop stuff, I’ll have Fletcher or Keaton drop me off at that island, and I’ll poke around. When I’m done, you’ll pick me up, and we’ll finish out the day hunting together. Any questions?”

“Won’t people wonder about how you ended up on my boat or why you’re there?”

“No, because it’s my boat, and if anyone asks, it was always the plan. You can even mention it when you go out. I’ll bring it up when I see people at the docks when I leave.” He jerked his hand over his shoulder. “Five people from the challenge watched you walk into my cabin. They’ll think my concern is about you being out there alone and the fact you’re using my boat. It’s a simple, easy plan.”

“Are you kidding me? The last thing I need is people gossiping about me and the chief of police.”

And that’s all it took. He fisted her thick, lush hair into his hand and crash-landed his lips on her mouth. His tongue snagged hers, twisting and turning. Heat rolled across his skin like flames reaching out from a fire. He waited for the slap. Waited for her to push him away. Waited for that saucy mouth of hers to tear into him like a viper.

Instead, he got full participation. Her chest heaved up and down with every raspy breath, pressing into his body, reminding him of exactly how long it had been since he’d had sex.

Then she really did the unexpected. She tore off her shirt and straddled him, licking her plump, juicy lips.

He stared at her lacy black bra. She was full of surprises. “What are you doing?”

“Did you start something you had no intention of finishing?” She reached behind her back.

He swallowed. Hard. “No,” he said, then managed a throaty groan. “But I honestly didn’t expect you to go along with it. I mean, the gossip and all.”

“Yeah, well, it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? Might as well give this town something else to talk about tomorrow morning at the docks.” She unhooked her bra, letting the garment fall to his stomach.

“Small, but not itty-bitty.” He gripped her thighs, stood, and strolled across the room toward the bed. He’d lived in Harvey’s Cabins the entire time he’d been in Calusa Cove, and not once had he had a woman spend the night. Hell, he hadn’t had sex with a woman who was from Calusa Cove. The one chick he’d been with had been from Naples. What a mistake that had been.

Audra wrapped her legs around his waist. “Oh my God. I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Perhaps you were right. It’s not the ladies—it’s me.”

“Yeah. Because I have horrible taste in men, too.”

“I can’t be that bad.” He laid her on the mattress and climbed on next to her, running his finger down the center of her chest. “You’re half-naked in my bed.” God, she was beautiful.

“Maybe I have low standards.”

“I should be insulted.”

“But you’re not.” She cupped his face. “Just like I wasn’t when you made the dumbass comment about my breasts.”

He cupped one, fanning his thumb across the taut nipple. “They’re actually perfect.” Leaning over, he took the other nipple into his mouth, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head reminding him that he was tangling himself up with another redhead.

A guttural moan escaped her sweet lips. She arched her back as she grappled with his shirt.

Even though he had no desire to stop what he was doing, he did want to remove some of his clothing. He raised his head, ripped off his shirt, and tossed it across the room.

Her hands splayed across his chest. “What happened?” She fingered one of his jagged scars before moving on to one where a bullet had torn into his body.

Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm. “War wounds.”

“And this?” She kissed the burn marks.

“Nothing you want to hear about right now.” He inched down the side of the bed, dotting kisses on her firm belly. This was not a woman he’d want to go head-to-head with. Her muscles were well-defined. She was strong. He fiddled with the button on her shorts, tugging them to her ankles and staring at her tiny, lacy thong.

Not what he’d imagined her wearing.

He’d pictured her more of a boy shorts kind of girl. Of course, he wasn’t complaining. He rolled her panties over her hips, off her body, and flung them. All that remained was a little landing strip and a tattoo of an alligator. He chuckled, bending over to press his lips to the gator.

“You like that?”

“The gator? Or this?” He lifted her leg, resting it on his shoulder, and licked her, opening her and catching her hard clit, swirling his tongue over the hard nub until her hips jerked.

She clutched the comforter and groaned.

“Both are pretty damn sexy.” He slipped his finger inside, stroking gently, while his other hand cupped her perfectly round breast, thumbing her tight nipple as it puckered under his touch. He loved the way her body responded. “Can’t say I’ve seen a woman with a tattoo in that spot,” he whispered, mesmerized by the woman before him. His gaze drifted over her body, soaking in every inch. Every crevice. Every freckle.

God, he loved freckles.

Her slightly darker skin was dotted with them everywhere, and he wanted to kiss each one.

“Do you always like to watch yourself work?” she cooed with a sexy voice that made his toes curl.

“What man doesn’t?” He waggled his brows. “Especially when I can make you squirm and moan when I do this.” He leaned over, bringing his lips to her body once again, sucking at first, then gently lapping, savoring every lick. She tasted like pineapples drizzled in coconut juice.

He’d died and gone to heaven.

"You're so…strange." She chuckled, squirming beneath his touch. The words seemed to blend in a weird sort of harmony with the silence that had taken over the room—only broken by their quiet whispers and the occasional moan. "In a good way."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He kissed his way up her body, giving each breast the attention it deserved, before gently nibbling on her lower lip and pulling her closer as he continued to explore her body. Every inch of her skin felt like a new territory, uncharted and alluring. Her reactions to his touch were intoxicating—enough to make him forget the world outside his cabin.

“Do I need to reach for protection?” he whispered, looking into her sexy green eyes while his fingers delved deeper, curling upward, causing her to moan and her hips to rise. There was an intensity in her gaze, a question buried beneath layers of confidence and carnal desire.

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. She’d come here with a boatload of baggage and a massive chip on her shoulder. She trusted no one, including him, and he didn’t blame her for that.

But he wasn’t the enemy, and she was naked in his arms, moaning in perfect pleasure.

“I’m on the pill, and it’s been a very long time.” She responded breathlessly, her nails digging into the muscular expanse of his back. It was as if she were desperate, which wasn’t her at all.

Not that he knew her, but he knew enough.

She tugged at his jeans. Her deft little fingers had them unbuttoned and unzipped before he could blink. She curled her fingers around his length, and he hissed. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t expand his lungs. Nor could he release the air trapped inside.

As quickly as he could, he kicked himself out of his pants.

This was different than what he’d been used to in the last couple of years of his dating life. This wasn't a fling or a one-night stand. This was raw, unhinged—an exploration of desire and lust that had been buried deep within since they’d first met.

And then she did something entirely unexpected once again.

She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her eyes glowing fiercely in the dim light of his cabin. Not in submission but in equal desire. He could see it—she wasn't just along for the ride; she wanted to feel just as much control as he did. It was intoxicating, addictive even.

"Jesus," he gasped as she pushed herself onto him, a wave of pleasure washing over him like wildfire. A low growl escaped his lips as he gripped her hips firmly and let her take control.

She rode him hard and fast, matching his every thrust with fierce intent that made his entire body tingle with pleasure. He lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies, the way her small breasts bounced with each movement, and the way her fiery hair cascaded over her shoulders. He bit down on his lip to suppress a groan as he felt himself nearing the edge. Squeezing his eyes closed, he did whatever he could to make this last.

For her.

"Look at me," she commanded, her voice straining with the kind of greed that drove a man wild. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she rode him relentlessly.

He opened his eyes and met hers—looking into the depths of the thirst she held within. It was like diving into an ocean that was both wild and captivating at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest.

Together, they drowned out the last remaining echoes of their worries and fears, leaving only pure, unadulterated lust in its wake.

And when they finally found release, they didn't just climax. They exploded together. She screamed his name so loudly he was sure everyone renting a cabin heard it, while he clung to her fiercely as if his life depended on it. As if he were drowning in her.

Moments later, when they collapsed together on the bed, panting heavily and bathing in the afterglow, neither cared about reputation or rumors anymore—at least, he hoped she didn’t.

They had wanted each other. Craved each other. Maybe even needed each other.

And they hadn't just given the town something to talk about—they’d given themselves a night they would remember for a lifetime.

He pulled the covers over their naked bodies and held her close, tangling his hand in her fireball of thick hair.

She rested her head on his chest, her fingers dancing on his scars. Once again, she kissed the burn marks. A constant reminder of what had happened. Of life lost.

Of his many failures.

“Well, that was incredibly awesome and totally unexpected,” she said.

He chuckled. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

She rested her chin on his shoulder. “So, are you going to tell me about these scars?”

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There are too many, and none of the stories are good.” He kissed her forehead. “They don’t make for good after-sex chatter.”

“I think a therapist would have a field day with how we ended up in this bed.”

“Probably right about that.” One thing he knew for sure about him and women, he sucked at relationships. He could get a girl but couldn’t keep one. It all came down to four things.

He was too bossy.

Too honest.

Cared more about his buddies.

And had war wounds that messed with his head.

Not necessarily in that order.

“Are you going to tell me?” she asked.

“You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“How about you tell me about one? Just one. Then I’ll tell you something about myself. Anything you want to know. I promise to be honest.”

Sounded like a fair trade. “Okay. Which one do you want to know about?”

“The burns.” She arched a brow.

“No,” he said. “Any other but that one.”

“Can I ask why?”

He shook his head. “Maybe another day.” No way would he tell her about the day Ken had died, not after just having sex. A wave of guilt hit his heart like a bullet.

Ex-girlfriends had always been off-limits, and this was Ken’s ex. Didn’t matter that it had been sixteen years ago. Or that Ken was dead.

Because the latter was partly his fault.

“Okay.” She tapped her finger on the bullet hole in the center of his chest—the one that had almost killed him. “How about this one?”

“Leave it to you to pick the two I hate talking about most.” He sighed. “But I made you a deal, so this one it is.” He rubbed the old wound. “It was six years ago. The guys and I were sent to an undisclosed area for an unsanctioned mission.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Basically, when shit goes sideways, the government doesn’t take responsibility; we’re on our own.”

“That sucks for you.”

“It does.” He nodded. “I was the team leader. I was responsible for the mission and for the men. We went in with our orders, but things got dicey real quick. I got new intel on the ground and had to make a split-second decision.” Mindlessly, he continued to run his hand over the scar. He hadn’t even felt the bullet tear through his body. “I acted on the information, shifting our plans but not our mission. I had the full support of my team, but in all fairness, they only had about four minutes to either agree or disagree. If we hadn’t acted, we could’ve come home and faced disciplinary actions for failing to follow orders.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not, but it wouldn’t have been the first time,” he said. “Anyway. We executed the mission, only some of the intel was bogus. That was my bad. I put my men in danger.”

“Who else got shot?”

“No one on my team,” he said softly. “And as for the assets we were there to extract, my men did so. Unfortunately, because of my decision, twenty innocent civilians died that day. Fifteen men and women and five children.” He closed his eyes and turned away. He couldn’t believe he’d told that story. He hadn’t spoken of it since it had happened. Since some stupid-ass Navy shrink had made him before he’d been approved to go back to active duty. The next couple of years had passed without incident. Well, not really, but at least he hadn’t been responsible for any civilian deaths.

Sure, people had died, and he might have killed a few not-so-innocent enemies. But nothing to feel guilty about.

Until Ken.

Whether or not the rest of his team had wanted to retire from the Navy after that, Dawson was done.

So was Fletcher.

But Hayes and Keaton had been just as deeply affected. They’d all pushed aside their re-enlistment papers and walked.

A warm palm cupped his cheek, turning his head. He blinked.

“So, is that one of the reasons you became a cop instead of something else, like the rest of the guys on your team?”

“That’s very Freudian of you.”

“It’s an honest question.” She pursed her lips.

“I suppose that’s what my psyche eval would say.” He chuckled, giving her a quick kiss, trying desperately to lighten the mood, but it was impossible. The damage had been done. “I took one of those aptitude and personality tests my senior year in high school. The personality part ranked me the highest in protective instincts and loyalty. The aptitude part put me in a career as a cop or the military.” He shrugged.

“Looks like you’ve stayed true to who you are.”

“I followed my instincts.” He rolled to his side and waggled his brows.

“You’re cute.” She smiled.

“Just what a man of my age wants to hear.” He batted her freckled nose. “Your turn. Tell me something a lot of people don’t know about you. Or maybe something that would shock me.”

Her smile faded, and her eyes glazed over. “I’m scared. For the first time in a long while, I’m really afraid.”

Well, now that damn near broke his heart. He wiped the single tear that dribbled down her cheek.

“Someone killed my dad. I know it. I remember blinking open my eyes that night after… after…” She hiccupped. “I don’t know. Things went black. Then I saw my dad being pushed into the water. The alligators got him. I saw all the tails. Someone was chumming the waters. And then there was a sharp pain in my head again. I don’t know why they left me out there. Maybe they thought I was dead. Or figured I’d die out there before dawn. I did lose some blood from a wound on my head. I was disoriented, dehydrated and?—”

“Hey. Slow down. We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“But do you believe me? That it wasn’t a dream? That it was real? Please, you’ve got to believe me.”

He kissed her. Softly. Tenderly. Lovingly. “Yes. I believe you. And I’m going to look into this. I’ve already pulled your dad’s file. I’m going to talk to those who Trip interviewed. I’ll reach out to any law enforcement he worked with. I’m not going to let it just sit there when something doesn’t settle right in my gut.”

She wrapped her arms around his body. “Thank you.”

“Technically, I’m just doing my job.”

“Giving me an orgasm has nothing to do with being the chief of police.”

He chuckled. “You’re giving me whiplash.”

“Get used to it. I don’t like being emotional.”

“Anger and sarcasm are emotions, and you do those two just fine.”

She pinched his nipple. Hard.

“Ouch. That hurt.”

“Good. Because saying things like that won’t get me out of my panties again.”

“That would be a damn shame. I liked your itty-bitty thong.” He burst out laughing.

“Dawson, that’s really not that funny.”

He cleared his throat. “I thought it was,” he mumbled, letting out a long breath. Why did he have to have a type?