Maya Banks - Hidden Away

Garrett went soft on the inside. He loved Rachel to pieces. Always had. The idea that she worried about him made him feel a little mushy.

“And Sophie has slowed down, much to mine and Sam’s relief. Today she spent on the couch with her feet propped up while Sam fussed over her. She’s tired and I think if she doesn’t deliver soon, Sam’s going to have a kitten. He’s already threatened to kick the doctor’s ass if he doesn’t induce her.”

As much as he dearly loved his sisters-in-law and his family, right now he was grateful to be away from Sam. The man was a bit touchy when it came to his wife and until she delivered safely, Sam was going to be a complete basket case.

“How is Dad? Is he taking it easy?”

Donovan laughed. “Mom and Rusty are driving him insane. He’s called over here at least twice a day, begging for one of us to go rescue him. They won’t let him eat what he wants to eat. They won’t let him work for more than a few hours at the hardware store.”

Garrett grinned at the image of his burly father being bullied by the women in the family. That was the way it usually went. Marlene Kelly was ruthless when she put her mind to something. She kept her husband and all six of her sons on a straight line and it was pointless to resist.

Ever since his dad’s heart attack months before, she’d kept him on a tight leash and ruled with an iron fist.

“What about Beavis and Butthead? They still off on some supersecret mission for Uncle Sam?”

“Uh, about them.”

A prickle of alarm shot up Garrett’s spine. His youngest brothers were still active military, and he worried about them constantly. “Uh-oh. What’s up?”

“Nothing bad,” Donovan hurried to say. “Joe called Sam yesterday. Said he and Nathan weren’t re-upping and wanted to know if they could work for KGI.”

“Well, duh,” Garrett said with a snort. Relief lessened the pressure in his chest. Not that KGI was a cakewalk. They handled their fair share of dangerous assignments, but he’d much prefer to have all his brothers right in front of him where he could watch their backs.

“Yeah, that’s what Sam said. They’re bugging out again in a week. Joe didn’t say where, which bothers me. He usually at least has a location for me. Tells me it isn’t good. But when this tour’s up, they both want to come home.”

“Ma will be beside herself,” Garrett said dryly.

Donovan chuckled. “All her chicks in one spot for more than a week or so? That hasn’t happened since Sam was a senior in high school. She’ll drive us all insane.”

“It’ll be nice.”

“Yeah,” Donovan agreed. “It will be.”

“Okay enough chitchat. I gotta go. I have a date with the couch,” Garrett said. “Kiss the sisters-in-law for me.”

“I’m flipping you the bird right now,” Donovan grumbled.

Garrett grinned and tossed the sat phone onto the coffee table. The rain still beat the roof and flashes of lightning went off outside the windows like strobe lights. The rumble of thunder acted like a sedative, luring him into the promise of a nice long sleep.

He yawned. He should probably go to bed. But that would require moving.

THE next morning, Sarah stood on her porch and stared over the debris-ridden beach and watched frothy waves foam onto the shore. Palm leaves, tree branches and an assortment of driftwood sprawled across the sand, remnants of last night’s storm.

The skies were clear this morning and a light breeze lifted her hair and blew over her face as she stood gazing over the water. She was trying to work up the nerve to go back into town. Alone. Without asking for Garrett’s help.

During the night as she lay listening to the wind and rain, she’d decided she wanted to do something to repay his kindness and understanding. He’d cooked her dinner and he’d retrieved her books, not to mention gave her chocolate and wine. That deserved something in her mind, and she was through being a ninny around him.

If she was going to spend all this time laying low, she was at least going to enjoy herself.

Now she just had to conquer her fear of returning to town alone and she’d be set. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the sand. Meat and beer were obviously the way to Garrett’s heart, but she was going to throw in something sweet as well.

She lugged her laptop bag over her shoulder and started at a fast clip down the beach before she changed her mind. While she was in town, she’d check her email and send Marcus reassurance so he didn’t get edgy and come after her. Surely he realized the necessity for them to stay as far away from one another as possible.

As long as she kept quiet and away from Boston, everything would be fine. She’d never risk running into Stanley Cross again. Allen was gone—a fact she couldn’t bring herself to feel any regret over. Just that Marcus had been the one to do the deed. She should have left Boston a long time ago, but she’d stayed locked in her apartment, terrified to go out. Terrified to live.

Well, that was over. It was time to regain control of her life. Even if it was here on this island. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to being uprooted and having to adjust all over again. She’d spent her life moving and adjusting.

She hit the café first. Enjoyed a cup of coffee while she checked her email. Her heart sped up when she saw a new one from Marcus.

Let me know you’re okay.

She typed a quick response assuring him she was fine. She even made her response a little wordier than she had in previous emails. She made it sound like she was taking an extended vacation. And maybe she was. Who was to say she wasn’t?

After packing up her laptop, she drained the rest of her coffee and headed toward the market. Remembering Garrett’s tastes, she chose a small brisket, large baking potatoes and all the fixings. She preferred salad with meat courses but Garrett obviously didn’t waste stomach space on lighter fare like lettuce and tomatoes.

She studied the array of beer, frowning because she couldn’t remember what kind Garrett had when he’d come over. Deciding it didn’t really matter, she chose three different brands and hauled them into her basket.

The small section that served as the bakery didn’t have anything she thought Garrett would go for. It was all too froufrou and fruity, whereas she pictured him as more of a pure sugar guy.

Cake would have to do. She didn’t have time to go all-out on something exotic and complicated. Not if she was going to invite him to dinner tonight.

She picked a mix and bought ready-made frosting even though she quivered at the sin of it all. Then she made her way to the check-out and paid for delivery of the heavy groceries to her cottage.

On her way home, she found herself humming. She actually stopped in the sand and grinned as she realized she had this ridiculous giddy thrill at the idea of seeing Garrett again. She hugged her arms and squeezed, so happy and grateful that the idea of having a man in her personal space didn’t freak her out anymore.

It wasn’t as if she considered herself miraculously cured. Obviously it couldn’t be just any man. Garrett was different. He made her feel safe. And for the first time since her attack, she felt a stirring of interest in the opposite sex. For that alone, she’d always be grateful.

She started back down the beach, a ridiculous smile plastered on her face. It was a good day. And it would only get better.

Two hours later, she stood on Garrett’s porch and second-guessed her chirpy assertion that the day was so wonderful. Her hands were clammy, her mouth was dry and her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

Why was this so hard? She wasn’t afraid of Garrett. She wasn’t! It was though her psyche refused to cooperate and had hit the panic button in her brain. It was completely irrational, but then she’d already acknowledged that fear was anything but rational.

More than a little pissed that panic was putting a serious damper on her good mood, she set her jaw and knocked briskly on the door. A moment later, Garrett opened the door and his eyes widened in surprise. That might have put her off but then he smiled broadly and she could see pleasure in his expression. Her heart jolted and did a funny flip.

He was only wearing swim trunks and she was afforded a prime, up-close view of his chest. The same chest she’d drooled over from afar. He wasn’t one of those polished, hairless, pretty boys with an even tan and skin as soft as hers. No, he was rugged, paler on his belly and chest than he was on his arms and face. And he was hairy. Not in a gross, man-wolf way. There was a smattering over his upper chest, enough to give him a rougher edge, and it tapered downward to a dark line to his navel and low enough to fire her imagination about what was beneath the band of those swim trunks.

Her face lit on fire and her cheeks were so tight, she thought she might explode. Whether from embarrassment or awareness, she wasn’t sure.

Her gaze jerked up to the fresh scar on his shoulder. There were other scars. Much older. Some more faded than others. The one at his shoulder was still angry and puckered looking. He followed her stare and slid his palm over the scar.

She flushed guiltily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. Well, I guess I did. I was curious. Sorry, though. Does it still hurt?” And God, was she babbling. Like an idiot.

He shrugged. “Some days more than others. Hey, I was about to go for a swim. Want to come?”

She blinked in surprise and took a step back. “Swimming?”

His eyes glittered with amusement. “Yeah. You know, that thing you do in the ocean? In bathing suits usually, although I wouldn’t be opposed to skinny-dipping.”