Marked By The Marshal. Julie Anne Lindsey
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stretching for five foot four, and her long wavy blond hair and big cartoon princess eyes made it all the worse. Angry Kara was a fluffy bunny baring her teeth, and the sight of her tiny face turning six shades of pissed usually ended their fights. He’d laugh, apologize and drag her into his arms, because what kind of jerk upsets a bunny?
Kara’s forced smile fell. She pressed her palms against the narrow curve of her waist, emphasizing her full breasts and testing the integrity of her tank top. “Something funny?”
He pulled his eyes back above her collar where they belonged. “What?”
“Why is the fugitive you were chasing three years ago bothering me now? To hurt you? That seems silly. If he thinks we’re still a couple, he should brush up on his stalking skills.”
“I imagine that’s what he’s doing now. I think you’re right. He’s looking to hurt me, and now he’s free to do it.”
Kara’s knees buckled. She planted onto their old couch with a sharp exhale and covered her lips with narrow fingers. “He asked me about the daddy.”
“What did you say?” A bubble of hope rose in Ryder’s chest. “Did you tell him the father’s name? Make sure he knew she wasn’t mine?” Maybe Kara and her baby were safer than he’d thought. Sand was sure to leave Kara alone if he knew she wasn’t in Ryder’s life anymore. He’d have to move on. Find another angle.
Kara stretched her eyes wide. “I didn’t tell him anything. He asked if her daddy was at work, then he said he must be missing her. I just said no. I don’t engage with people like that, and I never give out personal details. I made it crystal clear that my level of interest in talking with him was zero, and I left.”
Ryder swore, then pinched his lips tight. He ran a heavy hand through his hair and curled his fingers knuckle-deep into the strands. Kara had done the right thing for any other situation, but she’d likely only kindled Sand’s interest today. They were engaged when Ryder started to pursue him. Sand had no reason to think they weren’t married now and raising a family.
“S-so,” Kara stuttered. “Sand is definitely coming after me now because he thinks we got married and had a baby.”
Ryder took a seat at her side and swooped an arm around her shoulders like he had hundreds of times before. “Come here.”
She leaned into him, covering her face with one hand and rolling against his side. He inhaled the soft, familiar scent of her, soaked in her warmth and longed to be her hero once again. The man she’d fallen in love with when he saved her goofy kite from a tree. Her class had finger painted terrible kites to look like butterflies and rainbows. An errant wind had blown Kara’s into a tree. If it hadn’t been for that damn kite and Ryder’s affinity for tree climbing, they might never have met. But they did, and they were happy.
He missed being there for her. Opening jars and carrying things her short little arms couldn’t manage. He missed driving her places in his truck so she could perform a one-woman karaoke concert in the passenger seat. More than that, he desperately missed her.
Kara pulled her legs onto the couch, hugging her knees to her chest and pulling away from him. She folded herself into a little bundle, and Ryder longed to toss her in his truck and rush her to safety.
But she had a baby now. And a life here without him. He couldn’t carry her away.
He had to stay and protect her. He needed to fix the mess he’d inadvertently caused. “Hey.” He set a careful hand on her back and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her shoulder blade. “I know you don’t have any reason to believe this, but I’m not the same as I was before. My head’s clear. My priorities are straight. I’ve never been better at what I do, or knowing who I am. I can catch Sand this time, and when I do, I’ve got enough evidence to form a pretty strong case against him for his first murder.”
She rolled her head against her knee until her face came into view. Her lashes were wet with tears. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He curled a swath of her hair around his finger and tucked it behind her ear, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, begging her to see the truth. He could and would protect her at any cost.
Kara nodded. “Okay.”
“Good,” he whispered, emotion choking the word. He opened his arms and she fell right in, collapsing against his chest and curling into the curve of his side. Kara believed him. Despite everything they’d been through, and despite seeing him at his worst, she trusted him to protect her and her baby. That meant something. His heart swelled with joy and hope for a different future. “I won’t let Timothy Sand hurt you,” he said, stroking her soft vanilla-scented hair. “That’s a promise.”
* * *
SQUEALING TIRES BURNED a hole in the comfortable silence and Kara’s limbs went rigid.
She yelped as Ryder swiftly shoved her aside. He leapt away from the couch before the raucous sound had ended. “What is it?” She jumped onto her feet a split second behind him, but Ryder was faster, already out her front door and jogging down the street. A pair of glowing red taillights were barely visible in the distance.
Kara shut the door and locked it. She grabbed the baby monitor from the counter and found a place at the front window where she could watch whatever happened next. Should she call West? Or make a run for the nursery to collect her baby?
Outside, Ryder strode confidently through the night, gun in one hand, cell phone in the other.
Maybe he would call West.
He stopped at a large SUV parked catty-corner from her home and holstered his weapon. He turned in a small circle before lifting something from the vehicle’s windshield.
Kara strained to see what it was.
Ryder made another call and headed back in her direction, moving slowly at first, then breaking into a jog.
As he passed beneath the motion light over her driveway, the mysterious object came terrifyingly into view.
Someone had left Ryder a badly charred matchbook.
Kara unlocked the door and stepped away as Ryder turned the knob. He walked back inside unbidden, a sadly appropriate metaphor for their relationship. All he had to do was show up, and she let him in. He dropped a black duffel bag onto her floor, apparently planning to stay awhile. She shook her head, silently scolding herself for the naive flutter of excitement. Ryder Garrett might offer protection from whatever he’d gotten her into, but he was dangerous for her heart. Just seeing his face had quickened her pulse, and the way she’d felt while briefly in his arms tonight had brought an unwelcome rush of nostalgia.
Nice as it was to think things could be different, she couldn’t allow Ryder’s presence to shift her world in unfair ways. And she couldn’t afford to let her foolish heart distract her from the real reason Ryder had shown up at all.
“Well?” she asked, wrapping goose-pimpled arms around her middle and eyeballing the charred matchbook in his hand.
He rubbed the sleeve of his black jacket across his forehead. “Can I borrow a baggie?”
Kara glared at him before marching into the kitchen.
Ryder followed, tapping away at his phone screen with the thumb of one hand, while carrying the ruined matchbook, reverently, in the other. The crazed look on his face tilted her stomach.
“Is that from him?” she asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.
“I believe so, yes.”
She swung the pantry door open and tried not to vomit. Kara had been afraid of many things in her life, but never for her life. Certainly not for the life of her daughter. Her gut clenched more tightly at the thought.
“Here.”