Brenna woke to the sun midway up the morning sky and a blanket tucked around her on the sofa. She blinked, sat up. Cam’s house. She let out a relieved breath. Safe.
The detective shuffled half dressed around the kitchen. God, he was incredible to look at. Dark and poster-worthy, bronze skin over the rippling, well-worked muscle of his back, that nearly black hair just brushing the tops of his bulging shoulders… He made her wet just standing there, his biceps visibly flexing as he fried bacon. The scene was so domestic, yet he would never be strictly domesticated.
But it wasn’t just his appearance that drew her. Last night, she’d glimpsed his understanding, felt the care in his touch. The exterior might be badass detective, and he, no doubt, intimidated his fair share of criminals, but under all that was a really decent guy. He wasn’t the kind of man who would father a chil
d and leave her on his sister’s doorstep, never to return. He not only shouldered responsibility, he took it completely onto his back without so much as a shrug. Maybe that’s what she’d responded to last night, what had allowed her to orgasm.
She swallowed. “Can I help?”
He sent her a smile—the real deal—eyes crinkling in the corners. “Sit. You already cooked breakfast once, which no one got to eat. I’ll see if we fare better with brunch.”
A sound behind her alerted her, and she whipped her gaze around. Thorn emerging from the master bathroom, freshly showered. Bare-chested, he was also drool worthy. Powerful golden shoulders undulating, abs rippling, with every swipe of his towel through his damp hair, Thorn was totally male. He didn’t just wear a don’t-fuck-with-me mantle, he epitomized it. And yet…those little glimpses of tenderness peeked through.
“You okay, baby?”
Brenna nodded, feeling tears sting her eyes.
Since she’d fallen asleep on his lap, she was certain he’d been the one to cover her with the cozy blanket. Normally, she hated being called baby, but something about the way he said it now… He wasn’t immune to her, just like she wasn’t to him. But he screamed temporary. She had little doubt that the time they had left together could be measured in hours, yet her body had willingly come for him. Why?
Being with the guys was breaking down the tough-girl barriers she’d erected to protect her heart and revealing her soft underside she couldn’t hide from them. Thorn needed her tenderness, and she couldn’t not respond to Cam with utter emotional honesty.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall for them.
With the two of them sandwiching her, she felt protected. They’d proved they would take care of her this morning, saving her from the would-be abductors. Men after her because they wanted to know where her father was. Because they wanted to kill him? She had a million questions and almost no answers.
“Chow is ready,” Cameron called.
As he passed the couch, Thorn held out his hand to her. Brenna took it and got to her feet, meeting the direct stare he leveled her way. Something was going on in his head, but she couldn’t tell exactly what from his weighty expression. He’d be a hard one to get to spill his secrets, she’d bet. He’d have to trust, and like her, she’d bet he didn’t do that easily.
It was crazy to hope that, someday, he would feel free to tell her anything…everything. But she still hoped as she placed her hand in his and squeezed.
“I could swear I have a hole in my stomach.” Thorn’s belly rumbled on cue, and he rubbed a huge hand over his ribbed abdomen. “You wear me out, baby.”
Ditto in double for her. Despite this morning’s scare, every limb in her body felt loose, every muscle relaxed.
Hand in hand, she and Thorn made their way to the table. Cam pulled out a chair, and when she approached it, he drew his arm around her and bent to her, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to her mouth. Warmth glowed inside her at the casual ease of his affection. What would it be like to have someone so clearly caring in her life who wasn’t a blood relative and didn’t love you because they felt obligated?
Behind her, Thorn’s hand tightened on hers. He edged closer. Shockingly, he was hard again. Cam sidled closer and nudged her lips apart with his own. She stood on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck. Surprise, surprise. She could feel his erection beneath the loose gray sweatpants he’d donned.
Someone massaged her back, rubbing their way down with soothing strokes until they cupped her ass. Cam. Thorn was busy working his hands around her waist, up her rib cage…and fondling her breasts with their sore little nipples. They weren’t the only thing sore, and, what do you know? She was getting wet anyway.
Talk about an alternate universe. For someone who hadn’t bothered with men and sex in years, suddenly she’d gorged on two—and apparently wasn’t sated yet. She’d had a bad-girl reputation in high school for sleeping around, looking for that elusive orgasm. But she’d never really lived up to that reputation until now.
Thorn gave her nipple another brush and whispered against her neck. “I’ve never had to make such a tough choice between my belly and my dick.”
Cam laughed. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
Brenna sat, Thorn beside her, and Cam brought bacon, hash browns, fresh fruit, eggs and tortillas. He set a jar of salsa in the middle of the table.
She stared at it, then at him. “What’s that for?”
“Breakfast burritos.” The detective smiled, showing a dimple in one cheek. “Everything’s better with salsa.”
“Yeah, if you want to burn your taste buds off before noon,” Thorn quipped. “I’ve eaten lunch with this guy before. If the food doesn’t make him sweat, he’s not happy.”
“Scandinavian-bred pussy won’t even try the salsa.”
Thorn suggested to Cam that he try something both trite and anatomically impossible.
As they all dug in and began to eat, questions began to whirl through her head. Where was her father? He had to be alive, or the goons this morning wouldn’t have come for her. But what sort of trouble was he in? He’d been offered immunity for his testimony, Cam had said. But what black things had he done?
The guys were silent, slaves to shoving in calories. Brenna knew she should eat a few more bites, suspecting—and hoping—she’d need the energy later.
“What’s wrong?” Cam asked between enormous bites of food.
“Those men this morning…they want to kill my father.”
Cam hesitated, shot Thorn a glance. Brenna noticed that the bounty hunter gave a quick nod.
He nodded back. “You should know what you’re up against. Your father worked for Julio Marco. They were in the business of smuggling in illegal aliens across the Mexico-Arizona border, then turning into slaves.”
“I got that from the paper, but slaves? Real-life slaves?”
“Anything from servants, to sweatshop workers to prostitutes.”
“My father promised these people safe passage across the border, then imprisoned them and forced them to…” Horror seeped through her. What kind of man did that make him? Then again, what kind of man abandoned his baby by leaving her with a woman she’d never met?
Cam laid a hand over hers. “I know he smuggled them in and he knew, at least roughly, what was happening after that. But exactly, no. Marco wouldn’t allow that. He’s the ringleader and the asshole we really want behind bars. Your father is just a hired gun who paid attention. He has critical information, and when I arrested him, he promised to sing like a bird if we cut him slack. The State District Attorney agreed to the deal, we took his sworn statement, and we told him to lie low. I’m not supposed to know this but the Feds were talking about Witness Protection, so I’m thinking he made them the same deal.”
And the trial started in five days. Brenna swallowed.
“Before all the deals were done, he called me to bail his ass out of jail,” Thorn groused. “I need to find him. I’m not interested in being out fifty K. My brother told me not to take his bond…”
“I can’t look all the victims of this scam in the eye if I don’t bring your dad into testify. I promised them justice, and I can’t not deliver.”
“Can you help us find him, baby?”
After hearing the vile things her father had been up to, she didn’t think she owed him silence. He’d warned her about dirty cops being after him, but Cam was no more a dirty cop than she was a lumberjack.
“Like I said before, all I have is a cell phone number. He never answers it. I always leave a message. Sometimes he calls back…”
Sometimes he didn’t. With their grim nods, it was clear Cam and Thorn got the message.
“Would you try him now?” Cam asked. “I think you should tell