More Than One Night. Heatherly Bell

deer.

      There was a rapping on her trailer door. Jill’s head jerked up, she stood, and in her haste, she tripped over her shoes and nearly landed on the floor. Instead of falling, she braced against one thin aluminum wall, which jostled with the weight of her body. Great. Stuck up on a flagpole and almost falling on her butt. She was such a prize.

      “Jill.” Sam’s voice.

      “I’ll be right with you!” She quickly stood and toed one flat back on, then the other.

      “You okay in there?”

      “Fine.”

      “You don’t sound fine.”

      “Well, I am!”

      “This doesn’t have to be an argument.”

      She opened the door and shoved on a smile. “Can I help you?”

      “No,” he said, stepping inside. “But maybe I can help you.”

      “That’s not necessary. I just tripped over my...shoes. There isn’t much room in here, you know.” A little defensive, are we, Jill?

      “That’s not what I meant.” He glanced around the room. “But you’re right. Since it looks like you’re trying to sleep here, too.”

      Sam was dressed as he had been earlier, but now his square jaw was darkened with stubble. It was the scruffy, just-rolled-out-of-bed look that drove most women crazy. She was no exception.

      “I don’t do that anymore. Much. My brother wasn’t too crazy about me sleeping out here alone.”

      He quirked a brow. “I’m not too crazy about it, either.”

      “I can assure you I’m not going to go next door to your trailer and attack you once the sun goes down.”

       Again. A little sensitive, are we?

      He gave her a slow smile. “I was actually thinking that my cot is much bigger than your cot.”

      She was a little taken aback, not that she should be. “You’re not shy, are you?”

      “You should know that about me.”

      Funny, she did. But what he didn’t remember, apparently, or maybe had just chosen to ignore, was that she’d come on to him. He’d been sitting alone in the bar, nursing his beer for most of the night, looking like someone who’d lost his best friend. He hadn’t talked or had a smile for anyone, not even the leering cocktail waitress who kept “accidentally” brushing her breasts against him. He might as well have been wearing a sign that read: Do Not Approach—Dangerous When Provoked. Besides nursing a beer and giving surly looks to anyone who approached, he rolled a coin between the fingers of his right hand over and over again.

      And yes, she’d been intrigued.

      Nothing had changed in that regard, she had to admit, but now he knew she was a natural redhead. She knew what his sex voice sounded like. And he knew hers.

      Sue her if she thought that two people who’d been horizontal should know a lot more about each other. But even so, were she still into rating her mistakes, of which there were many, he’d be, hands down, her favorite one.

      “W-why did you knock? Do you need something?”

      “Wanted to tell you that you’ve hired a first-rate group of men out there.” He nudged his chin. “All of them former Army, but I don’t hold that against them.”

      “Thank you. That’s...great.”

      “And we’re on board with what you’re trying to do here.”

      “That means a lot to me.”

      His gaze did a slow slide up her body and she became intensely aware of the heat of the day.

      “Was there anyone special to you in the service?”

      “My big brother. Ryan. He went to West Point.”

      See, this was the kind of get-to-know-you conversation she should have had with him before going to bed with him. He hadn’t been all that much into talking that night and frankly, at that time she hadn’t needed conversation.

      Sam quirked a brow. “An officer. I won’t hold that against him, either.”

      “Actually, he was infantry and got hurt. They gave him a medal.”

      Why was her voice so shaky? That was a while back and she was over it now. Besides, Ryan hated any talk about “the medal.”

      “Sorry. Most of the officers I knew didn’t get their hands dirty.”

      “That’s not Ryan.” Her chin rose. “And please forget about the medal. He hates when I talk about it, or tell anyone.”

      “Got it.”

      She leaned on her desk, arms folded across her chest. “You know, I was just thinking that we know very little about each other.”

      “That’s true. I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

      She pointed. “Exactly. Now you know something about me you didn’t before. I should know something about you.”

      He narrowed his eyes. “Such as...?”

      “Anything. Just one thing about you that I don’t know.”

       Why don’t you have an emergency contact?

      “I like dogs. Grew up with Labs and missed having one while I was away. I intend to adopt one first chance I get.”

      “Good to know.” That certainly hadn’t come up the night they’d spent together, but it also wasn’t quite what she meant and he knew it. “And why don’t you have an emergency contact?”

      He frowned. “You said one thing.”

      “Okay. One thing a day.”

      “You’re pushing it.”

      “But you owe me.” She took a breath. “For the most incredible night of your life. For rocking your world.”

      Hell, yeah. No one ever said she lacked confidence, either. Or, at least, was extremely good at faking it.

      He gave her another slow smile, with a panty-melting heat in his gaze. “Point taken.”

      Suddenly it was a little too hot in here, like August had landed only in the perimeter of this trailer and the approximate two feet of distance between them. She tried not to look at him. “You should probably go now, before the guys start to wonder.”

      “Whether I’m in here being ravaged by the boss?”

      “Or something.”

      He opened his mouth to speak, and she could almost see the wheels spinning in his brain, but then he turned to go.

      She suddenly had a fleeting and terrible thought. “You didn’t tell them about us, did you?”

      He scowled, and she flashed back to that night and the same irritated look he’d had on his face until she’d given him something else to think about.

      “Hell, no. That’s between you and me. Always will be.”

      He smiled again, and then he was gone.

       Chapter Four

      When Sam woke before dawn the next morning, he did not immediately recognize his surroundings. He froze, his heart rate must have hit the triple digits, and sweat poured off him.

       Tim and Dave were dead. They were gone.

       “The threat’s been neutralized.”

      No.