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Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) Page 19


  “You bring them in, they might bring heat from law with them. Their brand of outlaw is high profile. Not like our penny ante shit.”

  “Can’t be helped. We’re not letting the Northsiders fuckin’ burn us out.” With that, Isaac turned on his heel and stalked back into the clubhouse. Everything was going to hell at once.

  INTERLUDE: 2011

  Lilli slid the keycard in and opened the door to her room at the Residence Inn. Home, such as it was. She been back stateside for three months, out of the service for three weeks. No job, no home, no family. Her father had had a generous life insurance policy and had left her everything, and it had all been earning interest while she was in the service, so she wouldn’t need to work. She would hate to use that money, but she couldn’t imagine joining the world again. She figured she’d just stay put.

  Fuck it all.

  When the incident report came back, and Big Donna checked out clean, Lilli fought it. She’d fought hard, at first. If Donna wasn’t malfunctioning, that meant Lilli had gotten her men killed. Okada. Miller. Scarpone. And eight other men. It had taken them more than a day to get clear and recover their bodies. Twenty-nine hours seeing their burned, hacked remains hanging from a wall.

  And she’d done it. Chief had checked Donna out himself. Lilli didn’t understand what went wrong, how she could have felt trouble if there had been none. Maybe they were right. Maybe she’d lost her nerve and had some kind of weird attack. She’d gotten her men killed.

  So just fuck it all.

  The light on her room phone was blinking. She ignored it; probably the front desk or housekeeping, or something. There was no one who’d call her.

  Around 3am, she finally checked, just to get the damn blinking light to stop. She didn’t sleep much, but that light was getting in the way of even her slim shot at it.

  It wasn’t an internal call. The message was terse. “Ms. Accardo, you can still be of service to your country. Please call.” Ms. Accardo. God, that sucked. She recognized the area code and exchange on the number as DC, but not Pentagon.

  She erased it and blew it off. Every day for a week, the same male voice left the same message one time. On the eighth day, there was a knock at the door to her suite.

  A week after that, she was in training to work with the NSA.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lilli felt the change in the air when Isaac opened the bathroom door. She tended to guard her bathroom privacy jealously. Spending years showering in the desert surrounded by men had made her really appreciate and luxuriate in her time alone in the bathroom. But he’d been on her early and often to shower together. She’d relented about a week or so ago, and hadn’t regretted it. She knew there would be regret if she didn’t set some ground rules soon, because he had become a shower vampire—expecting unlimited access now that he’d been invited in once—and she was starting to strategize ways to be in here alone.

  Like this morning, for instance. She’d had an easy night without the dreams that drove her awake so often, and she’d woken before him, which was itself not an easy task. She’d been tempted to curl up close to him and sleep a little more, but then the thought came over her that she could shower alone. She’d sneaked into her own bathroom.

  Normally, she would never be dodgy like this. She’d tell him to turn around and march his naked ass back out of the bathroom and wait his damn turn. But there he’d be. Naked and glorious, the lush long waves of his hair loose, his chest so goddamn broad and cut. And his cock. His brilliant cock, hard and ready for her. They didn’t fuck in the shower, but he went down on her spectacularly, and she on him, and they’d be in there forever, wasting water.

  She needed to talk to him when they weren’t both naked. But now, he was stepping in with her, and her nipples were pebbled in anticipation of his touch. His hands on her hips, he kissed her cheek without saying a word. Then he moved in front of her, into the stream of water, and wet his hair, his head tipped back, the water spraying across his face and beading on his beard. It was among the most erotic images she’d ever seen, and everything between her legs spasmed and clenched. He towered over her, his shoulders broad, his chest wide and rock hard. The muscles in his neck corded and flexed, tightening the leather around his neck, with the Mjölnir medallion lying at the base of his throat.

  Yeah, she couldn’t quite regret the loss of privacy, when it came in this enticing package.

  Lilli put her hands up and slid her fingers into the hair on his chest, then dragged them slowly down, over his nipples—his hips flexed spastically—and the ridge of his pecs, down the banded muscle of his belly, into the nest of black hair. She gripped his cock with both hands and slid him back and forth through her fisted palms. Isaac rumbled deep in his chest, and Lilli looked up.

  “I don’t like waking up alone in your bed. Or any bed. Not anymore.” He thrust against her grip, and she squeezed harder, until he groaned.

  “I was just trying to squeeze in a shower before you woke up.” She gasped when his hand pushed between her legs and his fingers found her core, flexing inside her. The friction of his calloused palm on her clit weakened her knees, and he enfolded her in his other arm, holding her close.

  “Why?”

  With his fingers moving inside her and his palm rubbing on her, she was having enough trouble remembering to work his cock without trying to remember why she hadn’t told him she wanted privacy. Why hadn’t she told him? So she did. “Sometimes I like to shower alone.” Why was that hard again?

  He stopped moving all at once, and she thought she’d hurt his feelings. Oh, that’s why. She looked up; he was grinning at her. “Sport, I crowdin’ you? Why didn’t you say so?” He pulled his hand out and away, and she whimpered and clutched his cock more tightly.

  “You don’t want me to go?” His voice was a mischievous, raspy whisper that she felt in her spine. Jesus, this guy was like a drug.

  She pumped him harder, leaning her forehead against his chest as she did. “Well not now. But sometimes I just want to hop in, wash up, get out and get my day going.”

  Even under the cover of his beard, she could see his jaw twitching with the strain of the orgasm she was wringing from him. He grunted and leaned forward, his hands on the back wall, caging her between his arms. “Shoulda said somethin’, Sport. I’d leave you alone. For a couple minutes.” The last few words came out hard, in wrenching gasps. Watching him near an orgasm was almost better than watching him have it. When it was like this, only about him, he strove for it, instead of pushing it away, as he did when he was inside her.

  He was close, grunting in time with the drag of her hands on his shaft. She felt his balls tighten, and she dropped to her knees, surprising him. She took him into her mouth, and sucked him as deep as she could manage. He went off immediately, shouting her name and punching the shower wall while she swallowed down what he gave her. It was so erotic and intense to feel that kind of power over him that she almost didn’t care if he paid her any reciprocal attention.

  But he did.

  ~oOo~

  Later, as they were cleaning up from breakfast—they’d picked up a domestic rhythm, whichever house they’d spent the night in, moving around each other fluidly as they cleared and rinsed and washed and wiped—Isaac stopped her progress in the kitchen doorway, grabbing her by the waist. “Come with me to Tulsa this weekend.”

  It caught her completely off guard. She hadn’t known he was going to Tulsa, and the weekend started tomorrow. “What? Why?”

  He tucked a lock of her loose hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her neck. “Few reasons. I got some club business to do. And I got a booth at an art show there for the weekend. You could be my booth babe. And I don’t want to spend the weekend away from you.” He winked, giving her a leering grin. “I usually stay in my camper, but for you, I’d spring for a hotel.”

  Probably most anyone else would think this was an absurd time for a weekend getaway, in the middle of her plan to kill someone. But Hobson
was away, and would be for some time yet. As for her actual work, she’d finish the last project she had today, and she could send word not to send her another until the weekend was over.

  She hooked her hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I like the idea of the camper. Romantic.”

  His laugh was deep and warm. “You haven’t seen the camper. But okay. We leave in the morning?”

  “Sure.” She raised up on her tiptoes, bringing her hands up and around his neck, and he pulled her close and kissed her.

  ~oOo~

  It was dusk before Lilli got her work done and sent the re-encrypted document back through the labyrinthine security channels of the NSA. She’d spent—she checked the clock on her laptop—ten hours hunched over her work. She’d gone into her zone and never gotten up. Not to eat, not even to pee. Her shoulders felt like they’d been soldered to her neck.

  She checked her phone to find that Isaac had called twice and texted once. No message—he almost never left a voice mail. The text read Stay here with me tonight, and he’d sent it about two hours ago. The last contact, the second call, had been about 15 minutes ago.

  She hadn’t responded to his attempts to contact her—her phone was on vibrate, and she just hadn’t heard them. Isaac lived about 20 minutes from her house. Lilli went out onto the porch, and within a minute or two, he was riding up the gravel road that served as her driveway.

  She walked down the deck steps and across the yard to meet him. He was off his bike fast, striding toward her. “Fuck, Sport—you okay?” He reached her and yanked her hard into his arms. “Shit, you had me worried.”

  “I’m okay, love. I just had my head down with work.”

  He sighed with evident relief. “You can’t do that, Lilli. Not with the shit goin’ down around here. I gotta know you’re okay.”

  He hadn’t told her what the “shit” was going on with the club, and she hadn’t asked. If it was going to get in her way, they’d have to have a conversation, but for now, she said, “I can handle myself pretty well, Isaac.”

  When he framed her face with his big, coarse hands, Lilli’s eyes fluttered shut at the thrill of it. “I know. But I need you to keep in touch. I’m not used to giving this much of a shit about somebody, and it turns out I got a short drive to crazy. So check your phone, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.”

  He bent down and kissed her. “D’you get my text? You want to stay at my house? We can get an early start.”

  She’d only need her backpack for a weekend, so she could ride with him to his house. “Sure. Wanna help me pack?”

  “I got silk and lace detail.” He swatted her ass, and they went into the house.

  ~oOo~

  They stopped at the Chop House for dinner. It and No Place were the only places open for dinner, and Isaac didn’t want to get pulled into the scene at Tuck’s tonight. The Chop House was, by Signal Bend standards, more upscale, with dimmer lighting, a red and gold color scheme, and the kind of candles that came in red glass covered in white netting. The clientele was a town crowd, pretty much the same crowd Lilli had seen everywhere in the weeks she’d lived here.

  People knew her now, and knew her as Isaac’s woman, and the suspicion with which they’d first met her had been replaced with a kind of artificial respect and affection. The suspicion had made Lilli feel more comfortable, ironically. It was honest. The near-fawning that happened now, especially from women, was just carry-over from Isaac. In fact, she had a sense that there was no small dollop of hostility from the women, and she suspected she knew why. If he’d been solo for as long as he said, then these women were all wondering what the hell made Lilli so special. She figured they were saying what they really thought in the church hall on Sundays, or over the fence while they hung up their washing.

  That was a thing that happened in Signal Bend that Lilli found surprising in its preponderance. As if no one owned a clothes dryer, clothes and linens billowed on clotheslines every day throughout the town. The place was trapped in a weird kind of time warp. She’d asked Isaac about it, and he’d given her a lopsided smile and said, simply, “Sun’s free.”

  Now they walked through the restaurant following Molly, the hostess, to the corner booth Isaac liked. It always took them time to get to their table, because everyone they passed at least said hello. Sometimes, they wanted a chat or had a problem to bring up to Isaac—whom almost all of them called Ike. He twitched every time, but let it slide. Lilli had learned that she was right about him—if there was power in this town, it was in Isaac. Even the mayor talked with Isaac before he brought anything to the town council. The Night Horde was both law and order here.

  Molly got them to their table at last, and they sat. “You need menus?” They both declined. “Okay, I’ll have Beth over in a sec. You both want Buds?”

  Isaac nodded, but Lilli said, “Maybe some red wine?”

  Molly cast her a glance. “All’s we got is the stuff that comes in a box. You want that?”

  Mostly she’d been curious to see what Molly would do, so Lilli smiled and shook her head. “No, thanks. Bud is fine.”

  When Molly left, Isaac gave Lilli a nudge under the table. “Shit disturber.”

  “What? I thought some wine would be nice with dinner.” That was true, but it was also true that she took most opportunities to test the limits of this town’s quirks.

  “Never seen you drink wine, Sport. You just like sticking a wrench in the works.”

  “I like wine sometimes. And it’s crazy that people around here expect everything to stay the same all the time. It’s like some kind of group neurosis. Hell, why even have menus? Or choices? They should do a prix fixe thing and be done with it.”

  “Don’t know what that is, city girl. Enlighten me.” As he spoke, he reached across the table and stroked her arm. Her heart picked up its pace a step.

  “It means fixed price. It’s when the restaurant prepares a meal, usually several courses. That’s the whole menu for the night, and everybody there that night eats the same thing and pays the same price.”

  “Yeah, but this way, I get my T-bone and you get your chicken, and everybody likes what they get.” He leaned forward, his green eyes catching the light from the flickering little candle. “We’re gonna have to work harder at gettin’ you countrified if you’re gonna live here.”

  “Don’t, Isaac.” They only had this brief time before Hobson was back; she didn’t want to think about what the future did or did not hold. “And it’s not country, it’s crazy. I’m sure it’s not a thing everywhere.” A shadow had quickly crossed his face at her first words, but now he was smiling.

  “Maybe. Lot to be said for crazy, though.”

  Beth came over, and Lilli ordered the chicken parmesan, as she had the three other times they’d been here. Isaac got his T-bone, which was probably his thousandth. While they were eating their garden salads, Isaac looked up, and the expression that overtook his face gave Lilli pause. She turned to see a man she hadn’t met. He looked familiar, though, and Lilli scanned her memory to place him. He was tall and very thin, the kind of guy whose Adam’s apple was the first thing you noticed, with greying brown hair. Dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, tucked in, which was apparently the “dress casual” uniform around town.

  Isaac spoke first. “Will.”

  The man apparently named Will said, “Isaac. Need to talk to you.”

  Lilli was still combing her memory. She knew she’d get it. If she’d seen him, she’d place him. There it was—he was the guy who’d gotten stabbed at Tuck’s place her first night in town.

  Isaac set his fork down but didn’t move elsewise. “Havin’ a meal with my lady, Will. Gonna have to wait.”

  Will glanced at Lilli. “Ma’am.” She smiled and nodded back, and he returned his steady look to Isaac. “Can’t wait.”

  With a terse nod, Isaac said, “’Scuse me, Sport,” and got up. He gestured toward the front door, and the two men walked through the restaurant and out.<
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  Alone at the table with her salad, Lilli used the time to people watch. The restaurant had about 20 tables; six besides theirs were occupied. She saw Don Keyes and his wife Lonnie, sitting with the Reverend Mortensen. Ed Foss was eating alone. She recognized the people at the other tables, too—farmers, a couple of shopkeepers—and Mac Evans, who was staring at her. She smiled, and he raised his glass.

  He didn’t stop staring, though, and Lilli was disquieted. Her instinct was not to flinch from an aggressive look like that, but after a few awkward seconds, she nodded, then moved her own gaze elsewhere in the room, letting him have the victory in their strange, impromptu stare down.

  Isaac came back in, looking glum. He strode to the table and sat down. Lilli didn’t ask; she could tell that whatever it was wasn’t good news, and he knew she would listen if he wanted to tell her. But he gave her a concerned look and said, “What’s wrong?”

  The question surprised her. “What? Nothing.”

  “You have a look, Sport. Somethin’ happen while I was outside?”

  Lilli thought about the weirdness with Evans. Could he read that lingering on her face somehow? Was he already getting to know her that well? The thought thrilled and alarmed her.

  She shrugged. “Kind of a strange moment with Mac Evans over there.” Isaac turned quickly, and Lilli took his hand and brought his attention back. “No big deal. Caught him staring. He asked me out when I got to town; maybe he’s feeling jealous. Don’t sweat it.” But Isaac looked back, his fists clenching. Lilli glanced over to see Mac looking decidedly uncomfortable now.

  “I fuckin’ hate that guy.” The malice in Isaac’s tone was unmistakable. Lilli would hate to find herself on the other end of that emotion, and she was surprised that Mac Evans, realtor, had earned it. She didn’t doubt he had, though.