“Look out!” warned Ben.

Legs tangled, arms flailed, and a second later, Joanna was sprawled on the firm mattress with Callahan spread over the top of her.

The cool air from the air conditioning on her bare feet made her shiver – or was that from the heat from the heavy length of Ben’s body that was burning into hers?

“Um,” she said, licking her lips and looking up at him. He didn’t move. She didn’t ask him to. He felt good.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his breath sounding a little short.

“Don’t do what?”

“Lick your lips like that.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

“I should probably get up,” he said, his breath warm on her cheek. “But I really don’t want to.”

His words, his touch were pushing her too close to the edge.

And resisting temptation had never been one of her strong suits.

Dear Reader,

Straight to the Heart offered me the chance to write about my favourite of all law enforcement characters, the US Marshal. In this book, US Marshal Joanna Wyatt is the sister of Texas Ranger Jarod Wyatt, the hero from my Blaze, Hard to Resist. Joanna was raised by two strong Texas men—her dad and her brother, and she’s definitely carrying on her family tradition. It was a pleasure to get to know Joanna, a strong alpha woman, and to find her romantic match.

But what kind of hero would be right for such a heroine? Well, Ben Callahan, cowboy and former SEAL, suddenly appeared. He’s perfect for Joanna, and she for him, though romance isn’t easy for two strong people with similar personalities. Opposites may attract, but in my opinion, these two set off a lot more sparks on the way to their happily ever after.

Straight to the Heart was a fun book to write, and I hope you enjoy it. Let me know on Twitter, Facebook or email me at samhunter@samanthahunter.com, and thanks for reading,

Samantha Hunter

About the Author

SAMANTHA HUNTER lives in Syracuse, New York, where she writes full-time. When she’s not plotting her next story, Sam likes to work in her garden, quilt, cook, read and spend time with her husband and their dogs. Most days you can find Sam chatting on the Blaze boards at Harlequin.com, or you can check out what’s new, enter contests or drop her a note at her website, www.samanthahunter.com.

Straight

to the Heart

Samantha Hunter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Thanks to Kathryn Lye for her encouragement on the

initial idea and while writing this book, and to the

Harlequin staff overall for all of their hard work and

support on every project.

To Jeannie Watt and Kari Dell, who were so generous

with their time helping this New York writer get a

handle on western life, cowboys and roadhouses. :)

As always, my love to Mike.

Prologue

“YOU THINK HE’S COVERING FOR someone?” U.S. Marshal Joanna Wyatt set the file down on her boss’s desk, meeting Don’s eyes squarely. She had no idea why he was asking her about his case—the murder of a rodeo official by an organized-crime thug—but maybe he needed to brainstorm ideas. The cowboy who had witnessed the murder wasn’t cooperating, but that wasn’t her problem. She was impatient, wanting to know about her own status and her next assignment.

“That or he’s being threatened. Someone might have gotten to him, scared him. That would explain why he refused to come into protective custody, didn’t want to leave his family exposed. But he also rejected the idea of a protective detail. Said he could handle it himself,” Don responded, sounding tired.

Joanna pursed her lips, grabbing the report and scanning it again. Former navy SEAL, covert ops, cowboy. She knew the type. She’d been raised by two men with similar backgrounds, her father and brother, both Texans, both Texas Rangers. Ben Callahan’s response to protective custody didn’t shock her; a man like that tended to face his trouble head-on.

“I imagine he’s probably not afraid of much, and he probably could handle it himself,” she acknowledged. “This guy must have some serious skills, and friends who might back him up.”

Don scowled. “That may be, but he doesn’t have the jurisdiction nor the blessing of the U.S. government to do so. He’s a civilian now.”

“Why refuse a personal detail?” Joanna mused aloud.

“He said having bodyguards would draw more attention to him, that strangers would stand out like sore thumbs, raise flags.”

“He’s probably right. Texas towns are tight-knit communities. Everyone knows everyone, no exceptions.”

Don glared. Joanna shrugged. She couldn’t help it if Callahan was right.

“So what are you going to do? More importantly, when will I be clear to work? My shoulder is healed up well enough, and I’m ready.”

“The investigation into your last assignment hasn’t been closed. You won’t be back in fugitive apprehension until the assessment is complete.”

Joanna gripped the edges of the chair. “I’m on desk?”

Don smiled slightly. “Not quite that bad. You’re going undercover for WITSEC.”

“Witness security?” she echoed faintly. “But I don’t do witness protection. I chase bad guys, remember?”

Joanna lived for the chase. Always on the move, she’d taken down some of the worst of the worst. WITSEC, in her opinion, was nothing more than glorified babysitting. It was too slow and didn’t have nearly the excitement hunting down a fugitive offered.

“No way, I—”

“Listen, I know what you think of witness protection, but you go undercover to protect Ben Callahan or your backside is warming one of those chairs out there until the investigation into your last assignment is complete.”

“This sucks. I made one mistake, one small error in judgment—”

“You nearly got yourself killed and almost lost out on the apprehension of a dangerous suspect in the process. You pushed too hard, put yourself and the case at risk, and it’s not the first time. You need to dial things down a notch. Just for a while.”

“You don’t get the guys we’re after by backing off.”

“I know, and you’re one of the best we’ve got. But right now, you need to do this. Believe me, it took some wrangling for me to even get you this assignment, and that’s only because WITSEC is stretched to capacity. They need you.”

Suddenly it became clear to her why she’d been brought into this conversation.

“The cowboy? I thought he’d refused any protection,” she said.

“He did. And you seem to agree that a stranger would stick out like a sore thumb, but I think you could fit right in. He runs a roadhouse on his family ranch near Midland, and it just so happens they’re looking for help.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

He didn’t so much as crack a smile.

Joanna took a deep breath, settling back in the chair, trying to accept her fate. Undercover might not be too bad. At least it was out of the office, in the field, and if this is what it took to get the shrinks and administrators off her back, then fine.

“How long?”

“Three weeks. Keep him safe, let us know if there’s anything else going on—if you think he’s hiding something, if there’s a threat he’s not telling us about, some other reason he would refuse protection, anything. He can’t find out who you are—this is our only shot. If he makes you, we could lose him altogether. Don’t downplay this, Jo. And if things get messy, you call for backup—not like the last time.”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “But for the record, I did call for backup. It’s in the report. It’s not my fault they took forever to show up and I had to try to handle things myself.”

“Got it. But what happens next in your career rests on making this assignment work. I don’t want to lose you, so, like I said, make it work.”

Joanna could only nod. She was a professional, and an assignment was an assignment, but God help her, the next three weeks couldn’t pass quickly enough.

On her last case, she’d made a mistake. She’d decided not to wait for backup during a takedown—there wasn’t time, in her assessment, if they didn’t want a serial rapist to get away—and she’d taken a bullet for her trouble.

It was the only time she’d ever been shot, and it had almost been the last time. Missed a major coronary artery by an inch. She would have bled out so quickly she wouldn’t even have known what happened. The guy had been apprehended a little later, but it hadn’t been by her. That stung almost more than the gunshot.

Now, there was penance to be paid, and hers was babysitting Ben Callahan.

1

BEN CALLAHAN PAUSED IN THE doorway of the Lucky Break, the bar that he’d inherited from his grandfather, trying to figure out what was different. Scanning his surroundings, his senses honed by nearly eleven years as a navy SEAL, his gaze finally landed on the source of his curiosity.

Her.

A good deal of smooth, shapely feminine thigh was exposed by the short denim skirt that also showed off a spectacular bottom line. He wasn’t the only one who noticed. Men filing in for the lunch hour bestowed appreciative glances on the new waitress as she walked from table to table taking orders.

Dark-brown hair was caught in a loose ponytail that swished around her shoulder blades as she moved. The movement drew his attention to her strong, slim shoulders, tight waistline and long, graceful neck.

As she turned, he saw she wasn’t big on top, but she sure made the most of what she had. A tall drink of water, was the phrase his mother often used; it came to mind as he watched his new waitress.

Charlie, his best friend and second in command at the bar, had been in charge of hiring while Ben was out of town talking to the Feds. He didn’t want to be away any longer than he needed to, given the circumstances, but now he could stick close to home.

Fortunately, Charlie had been lucky with finding a new waitress for them. Interviewing new help wasn’t a job Ben relished, even as owner of the place, mostly because his mother was too likely to send in the daughters of her friends, who were better candidates for marriage than waitressing. Then there were former girlfriends who came around since he’d been back, some of them still single, others divorced.

That was the problem with returning to the town where you grew up. He still wasn’t completely used to it. It had only been a year, and leaving military life behind hadn’t been an easy choice.

Family, legacy and land often went together in Texas. Those ties meant something—it was a lesson he’d learned in the SEALs, where connections to your team meant everything. They meant your life. Connections to your family worked the same way, that was how Ben saw it, anyhow. He had served his country and now he served his family.

As well as copious amounts of beer to the locals.

When his grandfather had died, Ben hadn’t been home in over two years. He couldn’t change that, but he could do his granddad proud now.

Ben was slowly getting used to civilian life and he enjoyed it, for the most part. He’d moved into the old house behind the bar, and he had picked back up with rodeo, mostly bullriding and some roping. He was used to regular adrenaline highs, and rodeo satisfied that urge as well as possibly garnering championships for his parents’ ranch.

The last show he had been in had provided a little more excitement than he’d been looking for, though, when he’d seen a murder. One of the judges from the rodeo was shot, execution style. Ben had been in the wrong place at the right time, witnessing the whole thing—though he hadn’t been able to stop it.

It turned out it wasn’t a crime of opportunity, but had been connected to organized crime’s attempts to control large rodeo purses by drugging animals and by pressuring the judges. The man they’d killed had been one of the judges who had refused to play along. His three kids were now left without a father.

The killer was now in San Antonio, and Ben’s testimony was going to put him away. Or, as the U.S. Attorney’s office would have it, Ben’s testimony would give them the leverage to make a deal that would lead to the bigger players the killer worked for. The FBI was involved, and the U.S. Marshals, and who knew who else? That split second had turned Ben’s life upside down.

He knew from his military experience that a smaller evil was often the price of stopping a larger one. It was how the world worked, but he didn’t have to like it.

He was also perfectly aware that, because the deal or the conviction rested on his testimony, he was in a certain degree of danger right now.

So he’d canceled his late-summer rodeo appearances for this year, claiming he needed to be home to run the business. The government had offered him protection, which meant living at a safe house until the trial, but that wouldn’t help his family or friends. They’d even offered him Witness Protection, but he wasn’t about to leave the life to which he had just returned.

Besides, SEALs didn’t run.

The trial was in three weeks, the Justice Department had done a good job of keeping his identity out of circulation; they’d squelched any news stories about the incident, so Ben hoped they would get to the end of this without trouble. So far, so good.

“Welcome back, boss,” Charlie said, closing the space between them as he walked out of the kitchen, spotting Ben standing by the door.

Ben smiled and clasped his friend’s hand tightly.

“Good to see the place still standing, Charlie.”

“It was a lonely four days. We did okay. Good to have you back, though.”

“Thanks,” Ben said, and looked at the new waitress again.

This time, she noticed him too. Looking at him with big, dark-brown eyes, she smiled slightly and then turned back to her customer. “New girl?”

“Yeah. She’s doing a great job, so far, though it’s only day two.”

“Don’t recognize her from around here,” Ben said neutrally, but his mind was on immediate alert.

Anyone new was a question mark. Normally Ben wouldn’t question a stranger showing up for a job, but right now, things were a little touchier than usual.

“She broke up with her boyfriend, came down from El Paso looking for a job and a place to stay. Seems capable enough, and she sure is nice to look at,” Charlie said with a grin, his eyes noting some of the same attributes that Ben had been admiring. “Um, I rented her the apartment upstairs, too. Figured, what the heck? At least we know she won’t be late for work.”

Ben’s frown was his response to that news. Of course, Charlie didn’t know about Ben’s situation. Ben didn’t want anyone to worry when there might not be anything to worry about.

“I had to do it, Ben,” Charlie said, reading his expression. “When I came in yesterday, she was sleeping in her car in the parking lot. I couldn’t let her stay there until she had enough paychecks to get a place. Besides, she agreed to work extra shifts in exchange for no rent.”

“You check references, get her background?” Ben asked casually, walking toward the kitchen.

“Do I look like an idiot?” Charlie asked.

“Nope, but I know you and beautiful women, my friend,” Ben said with a smile. “She could be the worst waitress on the planet or a convicted felon, but looking like that …”

“Don’t worry, I checked her out. Joanna Wallace. Nothing significant, the usual history of dead-end retail and restaurant jobs. No convictions, clean driver’s license. Nice enough. Seems to have made a few bad choices about the men she takes up with, though she didn’t share too many details.”

Ben nodded, glancing through a stack of mail he picked up from the counter. It was easy enough to create a history, set up references, but he was also being paranoid. He’d put a sign out front and someone had come by to apply for the job. Why not her?

Besides, if the mob wanted to take him out, Ben doubted they would send someone like that, he mused. Still, he’d check her out through his own sources as soon as he could.

“Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate you taking that task off my shoulders,” Ben said.

“No problem. Lisa likes her, too, if that helps. I let her interview her as well before we made a final decision.”

Ben nodded. “That was smart.”

Lisa was his one full-time waitress, but her husband had recently left her with their two kids. While she took extra shifts, they needed someone else to cover gaps and help out during the busiest times. Lisa was worth her weight in gold, and it was important that she could work with whomever they hired.

“I’m missing a leg, not a brain,” his friend reprised jokingly, as he often did about the limb he was missing after repeated tours in Iraq. The last tour had seen his leg blown off in a roadside explosion. Yet Charlie never complained, more often using humor to make others comfortable.

“I didn’t balance the books this week. You know I suck at math, so I thought I’d leave that to you,” Charlie added.

“I knew I should have stayed away a few more days,” Ben said with a rueful shake of his head, making both of them laugh as Charlie returned to the grill.

Ben planned to hire a bookkeeper one of these days. For now, he was learning something new every day about running the business, and knowing the financials was as important as anything else. So, he did the books, the ordering, and everything else that came with running a roadhouse, and he was slowly learning the tricks of the trade. He’d hung out here all the time as a kid, helping his grandfather, and then as a teen, meeting here with his friends. The Lucky Break was a large part of his life, though he needed to upgrade some things. He now also appreciated all of the work it took to run a successful establishment.

It was a challenge he could dig into, focus on, and he owed his grandfather the best job he could do. To Ben’s amazement, as the months passed, he enjoyed it more and more. There was always something to keep him busy, and when he wasn’t doing something here, he was fixing up the house, working at his parents’ ranch down the road, or practicing for the next rodeo.

While he’d loved being a SEAL, real life definitely had its attractions, he thought as he walked out from the kitchen to the bar. Washing his hands, his gaze landed on the new waitress again.

Lisa, also working the lunch shift, winked at him and waved. Ben nodded back, slipping behind the bar to pitch in with the increasing lunch crowd.

Joanna approached the bar with an order. Close up, she was even more stunning. He almost wouldn’t have blamed Charlie if he had hired her for her looks.

“Two drafts and one cola,” she said, her brown eyes meeting his as she shot her hand over the bar in greeting. “Hi, I’m Joanna. Lisa tells me you’re the boss.”

He nodded, his eyes drifting to her lips. She wore no lipstick, just some gloss, and her skin was also unadorned, no cosmetics marring her clear, tanned complexion.

“Ben, Ben Callahan,” he offered calmly enough, though her touch and her eyes had almost turned him hard with immediate lust, right here behind his bar. She had a strong grip for a woman, those long, slim fingers closing around his, but her skin was like satin.

Ben cleared his throat, letting go of her hand and turning to pull down some glasses for the beer and the soda, loading them up on a tray and handing them back to her. He wasn’t used to losing control, certainly not from one touch.

“Thanks,” she said, starting to turn away.

“Joanna,” he said, stopping her, his mind clearing.

“Yes?”

“Make some time to talk for a few minutes after your shift? Maybe catch a bite? I like to touch base with new employees, you understand,” he said.

She nodded, seeming unfazed. “Sure, no problem.”

Watching her walk away, the little alarm in his brain just wouldn’t settle down. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but there was something about her that didn’t scream down-on-her-luck. She also didn’t seem like a woman to take up with the wrong kind of guy. Self-confidence and intelligence practically crackled in the air around her as she moved.

She exuded an earthy sexuality that had likely brought more than one man to his knees. The vision of what he’d like to do on his knees before Joanna Wallace made him shake his head, and he got back to work, turning to greet and take the lunch orders from a couple of local ranch hands who pulled up to the bar.

He supposed his physical reaction to a beautiful woman wasn’t out of the usual. Ben hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Life had been too crazy.

He’d had a one-nighter on his last military leave, and that was well over a year ago. Since then, things had just not lined up in the right way. Not that he hadn’t had some offers since he’d come home, but he didn’t want to make things more complicated in his own backyard. And truthfully, none of the women he’d met had inspired him that way.

Joanna Wallace definitely inspired him. Still, lust was mingling with caution in a very uncomfortable way.

As he conducted his work at the bar, he watched her interact with a table of customers who seemed captivated by her. She joked with them, smiling broadly, her laugh rising over the din of the room. Her eyes met his across the space again, as if she’d felt him watching her. She was aware of him, too.

Interesting.

Her posture, the slight apprehension in the way she held her shoulders when she looked at him, told him what he wanted to know. Part of it, anyway. She was hiding something, and by the end of the afternoon, he intended to know what it was.

JOANNA DIDN’T REMEMBER ever being so nervous that her palms were as sweaty as they were when she walked into the employee lounge to meet Ben Callahan.

She’d had to fight her instinct to cover up the generous amount of skin exposed by the halter top she was wearing. Definitely not her usual style. Lacey, her brother Jarod’s wife, had insisted it was perfect for a job at a roadhouse. In truth, Joanna had felt pretty comfortable in the get-up until Ben Callahan had looked at her. Then she had been distinctly uncomfortable in a couple of different ways.

Getting by Charlie and Lisa had been easy, but when Ben looked at her, she had the feeling he knew right away that she wasn’t who she said she was. Not a waitress, not Joanna Wallace. She half expected him to call her out on it right then and there, but her background cover was solid, even if they checked.

Now she was going to meet with him privately, and she had to convince him she was the real deal. Tom’s words about her career hanging on her success rang in her head and as she closed the door, walked toward the thick wooden table where he sat with two of the cheeseburger specials that she’d been serving all during lunch. Her stomach growled. She was hungry. Waitressing, something she hadn’t done since college, was hard physical work.

“Hi, hope you don’t mind a burger,” Ben said congenially, though his eyes were telling her a different story. He wasn’t sure of her yet, and he was suspicious.

That was good. Of course, given his military background, she assumed he would be cautious. He knew the score, knew that what he’d seen put him in a certain amount of danger. He’d be particularly careful about anyone he didn’t know. She’d expected that.

“This is great, thanks,” she said with a smile and took the chair across from him.

“Eat, then we can talk,” he said, grabbing his own sandwich.

She had no argument with that.

Polishing off his burger, he sat back and waited for her. She didn’t rush, and also sat back with a contented sigh when she finished.

“I don’t know what Charlie does to these burgers, but he deserves some kind of medal,” she said to break the ice.

“He does have talent at the grill,” Callahan agreed, and didn’t break eye contact as the tone shifted between them. “So, tell me a little about yourself. I know Charlie crossed the t’s and dotted the i’s, but I like to know who’s working for me.”

She shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re clearly from Texas, but not local. Where’d you grow up?”

“Just outside Corpus Christi, though I’ve lived in San Diego for the last eight years. Came back to El Paso with my boyfriend, Lenny. It didn’t work out.”

The best lies were couched in as much truth as possible, and while she had been living in San Diego when she was shot, and she did have a former boyfriend named Lenny, everything else was pure fiction. She waited for him to respond.

Taking another sip of her drink, her throat was suddenly dry for no reason other than he was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen. Six-foot-plus of lean, incredible Texas male.

She had been raised by two strong men, her dad and her older brother, Jarod, who were both Texas Rangers and were also all the family she’d ever known after her mom had taken off when Joanna was seven. For this reason, she had always been very comfortable around men.

She worked with lots of very good-looking men in her job—ones easily as good-looking as Ben Callahan—but they were marshals, and she never thought of them romantically. Even back in high school, she’d found the boys easier to get along with, and had had more male than female friends.

For that reason, Joanna dated very rarely. She’d been halfway through college before she’d lost her virginity, and even that was with a guy she considered more of a friend than a lover. He was an Assistant District Attorney in Houston now, married, with four kids.

None of that was ever part of Joanna’s plan. She was all about the job, just like her brother and her father.

Except that Jarod was married now, and even her father had met someone.

That was nice. She was happy for them, and she loved her sister-in-law Lacey. But she wasn’t about to follow suit.

For all these reasons, it was mortifying that her breath caught when Ben Callahan leaned in closer over the table. She snapped her mouth shut, realizing she had actually licked her lip.

Make it work for you, you’re supposed to be nervous. Play the part.

He had to believe she was just a waitress, a girl down on her luck who’d made some bad choices and who needed the job. If she couldn’t pull that off, her supervisors would think she had really lost her touch.

A dark-blond lock fell forward on his forehead, and he pushed it back, every muscle in his arm showing off in the process. She could almost make out the movement of his abs under the white T-shirt he wore.

She’d memorized his file, of course, though none of the pictures there did him justice. He’d been out of the SEALs for less than a year, retired with an honorable discharge. She wondered what had happened. In her experience, those guys never left until they were forced to. Whatever it was, he still stayed in fighting form.

She dropped her eyes to his hands where they rested on the table. It crossed her mind that she could have gotten laid sometime in the last four or five weeks.

Joanna liked sex, but had always thought of it more like a sport, something to do that scratched an itch more than anything else, though there hadn’t been much chance for that recently. In fact, it had been the last thing on her mind until about two minutes ago. Ben Callahan was sex personified, and her previously dormant hormones were picking a hell of a time to wake up.

He was talking to her, and she was so busy processing her lust that she wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, yanking herself back to the present moment.

“Charlie said you were sleeping in your car, and he rented you the room upstairs?”

“Yeah, he’s a great guy,” she said.

“So there’s no family to help out, no other place you could go?”

She shifted in her seat. She had to give him something he would believe.

“Well, I do have a brother, but to be honest, he’s not too interested in having me around. I’m also trying to stay off the radar. I don’t want Lenny trying to find me. Not that he would, but you know, it can’t hurt to be careful.”

“Why?” His tone lowered, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Well, I thought I was giving him money to get his truck fixed and it turns out it was for drug deals. I swear, I had no idea,” she said quickly, appearing as desperate as she could. “I had no idea he was buying stuff and reselling it until he got really angry when he came up short, got in some trouble, and I refused to help.”

“And?”

“Well, he got a bit rough, and I knew I was in trouble if I stayed, so I sort of stole his truck to get out of there. He owed me, you know? I had given him hundreds of dollars.”

“And you had no idea he was into drugs?”

“Not really. He had used a few times, but that’s a long way from dealing. And I don’t have anything to do with that stuff,” she said convincingly. “I thought he was a nice guy, but I thought wrong.”

He watched her carefully for a few minutes, and she closed her hands into fists on the table top, a not completely false show of tension.

“So where’s the truck?”

“I traded it for my car at a used car place—you know, roadside, the guy didn’t ask many questions since the truck was worth more than the car I got. I paid him extra not to tell anyone. Then I was out of funds and I was sick of living in my car, so I looked for a job.”

She saw Callahan’s spine straighten. “I see. So you’re afraid this guy will come after you? Lenny?”

“He probably won’t, but if he does, he’d never think that I would stay here,” she said, smiling slightly, as if pleased with herself. “He’ll think I went back to San Diego.”

Ben didn’t smile back.

“But he might. I don’t appreciate trouble like this being brought to my door and not being told about it. You weren’t exactly straight with Charlie.”

She frowned and leaned in, too, getting closer. His pupils dilated slightly, and from that, and how he had looked at her earlier, she knew he was attracted to her. That gave her some leverage.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” she said, licking her lip again in a gesture of nervousness. “But I had to get away, and I did what I had to do. I just want to get back to my life. I honestly don’t think Lenny will come after me. He’s not that ambitious. I’m sure he’s found someone new to sponge off by now.”

There was no Lenny, of course, so she was one-hundred-percent sure that no one would be showing up here after her.

Ben considered, and then nodded slowly. “He didn’t report you for stealing his truck?”

She snorted. “He would have to risk me telling them about the drugs.”

“That’s true,” he said, nodding. “Well, I’m glad you got out. And you’re doing a good job here, so I have no problem with you staying on. But if he does show up, or if there’s any kind of trouble—”

“I’ll leave,” she finished for him.

“No. You’ll tell one of us—me or Charlie—directly.”

He really was a white knight, she thought. It made being here for him better, and lying to him harder.

“Oh, okay. I’ll do that,” she promised.

“Good. Anything else I should know?”

“I’m a really good waitress. I’ll work hard, keep my hands out of the till. I never stole a dime until taking that truck, so you don’t have to worry. I just need to get back on my feet,” she said, hoping she’d hit the sweet spot between being someone he would want to help, who’d had trouble but who wasn’t going to be trouble.

Ben nodded and sat back. “What about your brother?”

“He wrote me off years ago. Never really cared much about what happened to me after our parents were gone.”

Sorry, Jarod, she offered the mental mea culpa to her brother, who was the best of the best. She loved him madly, and he’d always been there for her and always would be, but she knew plenty of people whose families weren’t. Thinking of her mom, Joanna never failed to be surprised at how easy it was for some people to walk away from the ones they were supposed to love most.

“That’s tough. Well, the job is yours as long as you want it.”

She smiled in relief. He’d bought it. She was in.

“Thanks. I really appreciate that. And the trade on rent. I really didn’t want to find a motel, and the nearest one is ten miles down, from what Charlie said,” she added. “And you know, with gas prices so high …”

“It’s good that someone’s using the apartment. Anything you need up there? It didn’t come with much.”

“I don’t need much. Though I do have to find a discount store to buy a few fans. It’s hot at night,” she said, absently moving a loose strand of hair from her cheek.

He followed the movement closely, and she was surprised to feel an answering sizzle of interest in her own bloodstream.

“I may have an extra one or two at my house. I can bring them up tonight.”

“No need, I—”

“No problem. Supposed to be over one hundred tomorrow. No point in being uncomfortable up there. It’s a small space as it is.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Is that all?”

“Yeah, for now. Thanks,” he said, standing, so she did too.

She was nearly his height, but he still was a few inches taller than her five-eleven and considerably more massive.

Still, she’d taken down guys his size and couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to wrestle with Ben Callahan.

Before she gave anything away, she shelved that thought and turned toward the door, leaving without another word.

Ben Callahan was smart and perceptive. She had her work cut out for her, Joanna knew, walking through the kitchen and back up the stairs to her small apartment. She had to pull this off; her career and his life, potentially, counted on it.

No pressure at all.

2

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, BEN watched Joanna from the kitchen door, following the perfect shape of her ass in those jeans as she worked the lunch crowd as though she’d been doing it for years.

He stopped gawking to go help at the bar, serving up beers and getting into the flow and rhythm of the lunch hour, which didn’t leave time to think about much else. Except when he handed a tray of drinks and sandwiches to Joanna who took them with a polite, businesslike smile and turned away.

His thoughts were not as businesslike every time he thought about those long, long legs.

She’d checked out, though. He’d run his own background check, run her car, called a few people, and nothing seemed out of place. So, for now, he was just enjoying the view, he thought with a smile as he watched her walk away.

He hadn’t kept his promise about bringing the fans up to her the night before, and she hadn’t said a word about it. He knew the apartment was hotter than a sauna in mid-summer, but she didn’t complain or make demands.

Truth was, his fans weren’t going to help much, and so he’d driven into Midland the evening before to buy an air-conditioning unit for the space, and had gotten back too late to bring it up to her. He planned to install it today.

“You have the look of a starving man, bucko,” Charlie said with a laugh, sidling up beside him. “And Joanna looks like dinner.”

“You’re imagining things, Charlie.”

“No, I’m not. Been a while since you hooked up with anyone. Do you some good,” Charlie, always the practical one, said. “She looks like she could give you a good—”

“Don’t,” Ben said, cutting his friend off a little more harshly than he meant to, and then slapped his buddy’s shoulder to ease the words. “I need a waitress more than I need to get laid,” Ben said, turning away.

“Says you,” Charlie said, grabbing a bucket of glasses to carry out back.

Ben had been in a less than cheerful mood recently. He couldn’t wait for this damned trial to be over with so he could return to his life. The noise in the bar softened as the lunch crowd started thinning, as workers from the local ranches and other businesses headed to their jobs.

Joanna returned to the bar, took a seat, a thin shine of perspiration on her forehead as she smiled at him. He liked her dark, espresso-brown eyes. She was friendly with the customers, but didn’t flirt—with him, either, though there was chemistry between them—no doubt about that. There was a seriousness about her that suggested depth, and he suddenly wanted to know what books she read, what movies she liked. In the next second, he pulled those thoughts out by the root. This wasn’t a good time, and fooling around with the help was never a good idea.

Ben pushed a glass with ice and a soda across the bar at her and pretended not to notice the slim muscles in her arms, or the delicate arch of her throat as she drank it.

“Can I get you some lunch?” he asked.

“In a little while. I have to help Lisa finish cleaning up, but thanks for the drink. Hot today, even in here, with the AC.”

“Yeah, speaking of that, I’m sorry I didn’t bring the fans up last night, but I went into the city and got an AC unit instead. I can put that in today. It should help a lot. Fans would just push the hot air around.”

She looked sincerely surprised, like someone who didn’t expect people to do nice things for her.

“Hey, hot as it is, it’s a million times better than my car,” she joked with a grin.

“It’s no problem. I should have done it a while ago. If you want, I can go up and put it in while you’re helping Lisa, and—”

“No, really, it’s fine if you want to just wait until later,” she said quickly.

He paused. There it was again, that itchy feeling that something was off.

“I mean, I’m kind of a slob. I don’t want you walking in when I’d left stuff all over the floor, you know, laundry and that kind of thing,” she said with a self-effacing grin.

He relaxed again. “Sure, no problem. Tonight’s fine,” he agreed.

Ben supposed that made sense. It was her space for as long as she was renting, and it wasn’t unreasonable not to want a stranger pawing through her things, not that he would. Considering the relationship she was in before now, he couldn’t blame her for being apprehensive.

“Thanks for the drink. I’m going to go help Lisa,” she said, slipping from the chair and walking back to the kitchen.

Ben put the glass he had been polishing for the past ten minutes back on the shelf behind the bar and closed his eyes, taking a breath and trying to focus. He was rarely this scattered, but Joanna was very distracting.

Maybe Charlie was right. Maybe he should do something about that. It wasn’t good policy to sleep with the help, and she was bouncing off a bad relationship—not the best situation for either of them—but his mind kept traveling back to the same idea.

And he kept pushing it aside. There were plenty of women around to sleep with, if that’s what he wanted, but he needed Joanna on the job.

That was a shame, he thought, as she came back out from the kitchen carrying a tray of freshly filled ketchup bottles, the motion of it deepening the slight cleavage at the edge of her tank top.

A real shame.

JOANNA DUSTED HER HANDS OFF ON her jeans, feeling better as she made her way around the small, basic apartment where dust had collected everywhere. She hadn’t had much time to clean or set the place up yet, and so she worked off some excess energy doing so now.

Changing into her comfortable jeans and a loose white T-shirt was nirvana, shucking the boots for a pair of well-broken-in sandals. Her job took her everywhere, but having her comfortable clothes with her was how she felt at home wherever she was, and this was no different.

After two hours of cleaning, the place sparkled. Callahan wasn’t kidding when he said it was small. One main room had a sofa, a small easy chair and a television. Off the hallway that led to the back, there was a galley kitchen with a mini fridge but no stove.

There was a hotplate and an old-fashioned metal coffeepot on the counter, but she supposed a stove wasn’t necessary when they had a whole restaurant downstairs. Down at the very end of the hall was a bedroom with a futon-like bed and a table, next to it was a tiny, utilitarian bathroom.

Everything was painted a monotone beige, not that it mattered to her at the moment. Her apartment in San Diego had been painted in rich, nourishing colors that were a warm welcome when she came home after a long time on the job. Now, she was between living spaces. During her recovery and transfer, she had lived with her brother and Lacey. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to land permanently yet, though she thought being back in Texas might not be all bad. Spending time with her family again had been nice.

When she had first walked in to the apartment, the windows were closed and the heat was stagnant and suffocating. Now, it was early evening and with every window open—thank goodness the screens were intact—there was a nice breeze coming in. It was still warm, but pleasant enough. She relaxed for a few minutes, looking out over the pastures and hills that sprawled beyond the parking lot of the roadhouse. It was probably going to rain tonight. She could smell it on the air.

Crickets were singing down below. After her mom had taken off, Joanna had had nightmares for months, and she had often had fears of someone being outside her bedroom window in the small, one-floor ranch home that they lived in. It was irrational, but she would wake up terrified and ask her dad to check outside her room several times each night.

So her father had shown her one night how if she listened for the crickets, they would let her know if anyone was really there. He went outside and walked up to her bedroom window several times, and each time, sure enough, the crickets went silent.

Crickets still made her feel safe, content, to this day.

The place was more than adequate for her needs, and it allowed her to be right on top of Callahan a good part of the time. She stopped in the middle of grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge, thinking about all the different ways she’d like to be on top of Ben Callahan.

Being closer to Callahan, however she managed it, would be a good thing—or potentially a bad one—if she let things go too far. There was a definite spark there. She knew he wanted her—and in some ways, she’d be stupid not to capitalize on that attraction to keep a closer eye on him.

However, there were strict rules governing the relationship between marshals and the people they protected, and non-fraternization was one of them. However, Callahan wasn’t a part of the WITSEC program, so those rules technically didn’t apply, though sharing his bed could be a problem in a number of professional and ethical ways.

Not that anyone would have to find out.

The problem was … well, she wasn’t exactly sure what the problem was, she thought, slouching back in the chair by the window. It wasn’t as if she was going to fall in love with him or something. If it got the job done and took the edge off, why not?

But she couldn’t talk herself into it.

While no doubt it would be entertaining, Joanna found the idea of sleeping with someone as part of her job distasteful. Flirting a little, or even going on a date, was acceptable. If it helped her to keep him safe, she was okay with that.

Luckily, her phone ringing on the counter discouraged any further fantasizing. She grabbed it, looking at the screen and seeing her brother Jarod’s name pop up.

“Hi, Jarod. What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great. How’s it going?”

Her brother cared about her, but he never checked up on her. He absolutely never called her when she was on assignment. Knowing what undercover work was like, he wouldn’t want to do anything to throw her out of her mindset.

“Lacey pestering you to call and see how I am?” she asked, smiling as she realized why her brother was making an exception to the rule.

“How’d you guess? Sorry about this, but she’s been worrying about you all day. She wouldn’t have slept a wink unless I spoke with you.”

“Tell her thanks, and it all went great. Got the job, and even scored an apartment above the bar.”

“Excellent for surveillance.”

“Exactly.”

“How’s your new employer?”

She shrugged, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on the sofa by the window. “Okay. What you would expect, I guess.”

Both of them knew better than to share anything too specific on the phone. She’d have to keep this short, as nice as it was to talk to her brother.

“By the way, Lacey wants me to let you know there’s a ‘cute condo’ here in San Antonio that her friend is selling, if you are interested in seeing it when you get back,” Jarod related, obviously being pushed to do so.

“Tell her maybe I’ll look at it,” she said, and then her phone beeped and she saw her boss’s name pop up.

“Jarod, gotta go—Don is on the other line.”

“Take care of yourself, jelly bean,” Jarod said affectionately, making her smile again by using the nickname he always called her.

“You, too,” she said, hanging up, and answering the other call.

“Wyatt,” she answered, as she always did for work.

“You in?” Don asked in a no-nonsense tone as she stood and paced the small room.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Good. You’re not still sleeping in your car, are you?”

“No,” she said, stifling a grin. Don was her boss, but he was also a friend who sometimes acted like a second big brother. Although he never cut her any slack when it came to work, and she wouldn’t expect him to. “Callahan had a room free up over the bar, so I took it.”

“Good work. Anything going on?”

“Nope. Pretty dull.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. You could use some dull.”

“Then I’ll be back chasing bad guys in a few weeks?” she asked hopefully.

“We’ll see. A few things are still to be untangled about your part in that last case. And you could use more recovery time before you’re back out there.”

“Don, seriously, I’m—”

“Just go with it, Jo,” he interrupted, reminding her that chafing at the restrictions wouldn’t help. “This is an easy assignment, but an important one.”

“Just keep an eye on him, and keep a low profile—or try to. I know it’s not your strength,” he said dryly.

“Fine. If you could send me dossiers on a couple people he has working here, that would help.”

She gave him Charlie’s and Lisa’s names. She would feel better once she knew more about the people around Callahan. You never really knew who the enemy was in these cases.

“Will do. You’ll get them electronically. Check in when you can. We don’t have any backup out there for you in the immediate vicinity except for local law enforcement, so if you see trouble, let us know ASAP. Don’t try to handle it yourself. Do you hear that, Jo?”

Hearing a squeak in the boards outside her door, she turned, and changed her tone to a whisper.

“Same as I’ve heard it the twenty other times you said it,” she responded smartly. “Gotta go. I’ll be in touch,” she said, hanging up and walking closer to the door, listening.

She didn’t know if she had just imagined the noise or not.

It could just be the musicians setting up downstairs. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays the roadhouse had live bands playing, and she’d seen the guys drive in and unpack their gear while she was on the phone.

Her apartment would not be quiet until well past midnight tonight, or for the next few nights, but if the music was good, maybe she’d go downstairs and enjoy it.

A thudding sound, and then a hard, loud knock had her stepping back in surprise, bumping into the table and knocking over the lamp on the small table by the door, her heart hammering. The lamp didn’t break, and she picked it back up, settling it on the table.

“Joanna?” she heard Callahan’s voice on the other side. “What was that? Are you okay?”

She grimaced, standing and setting her phone on the table before she opened the door to find him standing there, a boxed air conditioner at his feet.

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, peering past.

“Fine. I just upset the lamp on my way to the door,” she said, her pulse calming somewhat as she looked back down at the AC unit.

“Here’s the air conditioner. I can get it installed in just a few minutes. Where do you want it?”

Joanna watched appreciatively as he bent to pick up the appliance, which wasn’t small. She enjoyed watching the strong play of muscles in his shoulders and back as he did so.

Swallowing hard, she hoped her warm cheeks didn’t give her away as he met her eyes again.

“So, where do you want it?”

“I’m fine, actually. The place is great with all the windows open.”

He shook his head doubtfully. “Supposed to get up over one hundred again tomorrow.”

“You didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”

She was screwing this up, she knew, and chastised herself for arguing with him. Any form of connection she could forge with Callahan would help her do her job, so why was she rebuffing him? Something about him just made her … itchy.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, shrugging muscular shoulders as if the air conditioner didn’t weigh a thing.

He turned away, and she closed her eyes, blowing out a breath and sucking up her natural self-reliance. Joanna Wyatt, the U.S. Marshal, didn’t need a guy to take care of her or worry about her, but Joanna Wallace, the waitress without a penny to her name, would not refuse this kindness. And it was hot in the apartment, even with the windows open.

“Wait,” she said, stepping out onto the small, square landing in front of the door and putting a hand on his back to stop his progress.

They both stilled, and she paused a moment before taking her hand away. He turned, his eyes seeming a little darker, a little hotter.

“Yes?”

“Listen, thanks. It would probably make nights more comfortable. I just didn’t want you doing me any special favors.”

“It’s just an air-conditioner.”

She nodded. Callahan was a stand-up guy. A nice guy.

She was being ridiculous. This was about her and her hormones, not about him.

“Uh, this is getting heavy,” he said, interrupting her train of thought. “I thought the bedroom might be the best idea?”

Her heart rate skyrocketed. “What?”

“It will keep it cool at night. For sleeping,” he said, not seeming to notice her reaction.

“Oh, right, that makes sense,” she agreed, stepping back into the apartment and holding the door open for him.

“Bedroom it is,” he said, and walked past her and then back to the bedroom.

Holding her breath and praying he would leave before she gave in to her baser instincts, she followed him into the small bedroom, ignoring every warning bell that was ringing in her head.

Joanna turned out of the room and went back to the kitchen, pacing, as she listened to Callahan in her bedroom wrestling the air conditioner into the small window. When she heard profuse cursing, she gave in and went to see if she could help. Surely she was not so pathetic as not to be able to stand in a room with the man, was she?

“Everything okay?” she asked from the doorway. “Do you need help?” Was that her voice sounding a pitch higher and slightly breathless?

“As much as it dents my masculine ego to admit it, I could use a hand with this window,” he said with a short laugh. “The sash cord seems to be broken, and I nearly got my hand caught in there on the last try,” he said. He was squatting on the floor in the small space between the bed and the window, wearing a chagrined smile.

She nodded, crawling over the bed, the only way to get to the other side of the air conditioner without crawling over him.

She wasn’t trying to be enticing, but as she crawled on all fours over the fresh linens that Lisa had brought up, she saw a muscle tick in his jaw as he watched her.

It made her want to lick the spot.

He might let her, too. She’d been around enough men to sense that particular sort of tension in their bodies, that look that said they wanted to get naked as soon as possible.

She was here in a small, overly warm bedroom with a sexy hunk of a guy who she was pretty sure could make her sleep well tonight. Or not sleep at all.

A noise from below, the strong strum of a guitar chord made her jump, and she looked up, seeing him smile.

“Forgot the band was warming up.”

“They any good?” she asked, making small talk as she swung her legs over and squatted down on the opposite side of the AC unit, pinched between the wall and the bed’s frame.

“They’re good. One of the more popular bands around here. Helps the draw on Thursdays,” he said, and her hand brushed his forearm as they wrangled the unit into position.

The idea of being wrapped in Callahan’s powerful arms, keeping her warm all night long, flooded her mind. She had sexual fantasies about guys—who didn’t? But she never thought about them holding her through the night as she slept. She’d never been one for romance novels or lovey-dovey fantasizing. Still, tripping over her thirtieth year a few months before, and thinking about that bullet drifting an inch in the other direction made her wonder about what she might have been missing in her life. Spending time with her brother and Lacey had only driven that home for her, but at the end of the day, Joanna was the job. She loved it, and she didn’t know anything else. She certainly wouldn’t give it all up for a man.

Ben seemed absolutely clueless about her inner conflict as he managed to line up the unit with the window frame once more.

“If you can hold the window up while I get this positioned, that would be great,” he directed, distracting her yet again with how the T-shirt he wore clung to his skin in the hot room.

“Sure,” she said casually and pushed the window up, holding it higher than necessary so that he had room to maneuver.

Within a few minutes, he had the air conditioner fitted tightly into the window, and it was ready to go. As Joanna let the window down, he leaned over to plug it in, and then set it so that cool air immediately started pulsing out of the appliance.

It felt great, Joanna had to admit, and pushed her hair back from where it clung to her cheek. When she looked down, she caught him staring up from the floor, his attention clearly caught by the way her nipples were at full attention from the cold air blasting on her.

He turned away, fussing with something.

“It’s a small room. Probably can set this on low,” he said, more to himself than to her, and Joanna murmured something just as unintelligible.

She wasn’t even aware of what she said, more to herself than to him; she’d rarely felt chemistry like this, not this fast anyway.

Thinking he was going to turn around to walk out, she moved in that direction as well, but he leaned down to get some packing plastic that had dropped on the floor.

Legs tangled, arms flailed, and a second later, Joanna was sprawled on the firm mattress with Callahan spread over the top of her.

The cool air from the AC on her bare feet made her shiver—or was that the heat from the heavy length of his body that was burning into hers?

“Um,” she said, licking her lips and looking up at him. He didn’t move. She didn’t ask him to.

He felt good. Heavy, masculine and hard. She had to force herself not to widen her thighs and arch against him. It was almost embarrassing.

Except that he seemed to be having the same trouble—more so because he couldn’t hide his reaction, his heavy shaft pressing into the crux of her thighs.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his breath sounding short.

“Don’t do what?”

“Lick your lips like that.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. She couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t moved yet.

“I should probably get up,” he said, his breath warm on her cheek.

“Yeah.”

“But I really don’t want to,” he admitted, and she might have imagined it, but it seemed that he pressed himself against her thigh ever so slightly.

Heat streamed through her, making her wet and all too close to the edge. All he’d have to do is edge one of those thighs down in between—or any part he wanted—and she’d be gone.

Resisting temptation never had been one of her strong suits.

He dipped in suddenly, fusing his lips to hers, diving his fingers into her hair and wiping her mind clean of anything but him.

The surprise of it shook her, and Joanna opened underneath him, her lips parting, her thighs opening, her arms sliding around his massive torso as she gave herself over.

For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to be truly carried away by the moment. By a kiss. By a man.

“This is better than I even imagined,” he whispered into her ear, taking a break to catch a breath, and drawing the tip of his tongue along the lobe.

Joanna had to bite her lip hard to stop from moaning in pleasure at the contact.

“So you’ve been fantasizing about me, huh?” she said, trying to reach for something light, something to ward off the intensity that had exploded between them.

“From the second I saw you,” he admitted, much to her surprise, as he drew back and looked straight down into her face. She could tell by his eyes that he wasn’t lying.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. She wanted him to kiss her again almost more than she wanted to breathe, and that scared the daylights out of her. As much as she enjoyed sex, usually men wanted her more than she wanted them.

“Maybe we should get up now,” she said, trying to control her voice and her breathing as something close to panic set in.

She didn’t know why; she wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid of him. But at the same time as her body was screaming for him, her mind was sending out red alerts.

“Are you sure?” he asked, not moving.

His hand slid up the side of her rib cage, his thumb moving lightly over a nipple, making her suck in a breath and arch, even though she tried to stop her reaction.

“You’re my boss,” she said, unsure what relevance that would have, but apparently she’d hit the right key.

He stilled, pressed up tight against her, staring down.

“I would never use that. Not in this way,” he said seriously, his hand dropping to the side of her. “Not at all. In fact, I’ve never slept with anyone I worked with, though I have to admit, none of the people I worked with were as hot as you.”

“I—I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t … seem like the type to coerce someone into sleeping with you. It’s just that … it can make things complicated.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Is there someone else? Are you worried about your ex?”

“No to both,” she said, knowing that she was just opening the door she really should be closing.

“Good,” he said, looking down at her intently. “I’m fine with being your in-between. Your rebound guy,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her throat in a way that made her melt again. “We could have some fun,” he promised. “No strings attached. At work, it’s just work. No pressure.”

So, so tempting.

Joanna wasn’t sure she wanted to say no. What was the harm, after all?

Then he lifted away from her, and the heat of his body was replaced with the blasting air of the AC hitting her directly.

Callahan stood by the side of the bed, extended a hand. She ignored it, and rolled to standing, fixing her clothes. She didn’t catch herself in time to prevent a wince as she rolled over her still sore shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Your shoulder, you hurt it.”

Thank goodness the T-shirt she wore hid the scar from the bullet wound. She covered it up with makeup when she wore anything revealing, but she knew he’d recognize it for what it was. Thank God he hadn’t managed to get her shirt off. She kicked herself for forgetting, but it was a good reminder of why this couldn’t happen.

“I tweaked it carrying a heavy load of dishes, that’s all.”

“You could let one of us get the really heavy trays.”

“Sure. I will next time,” she said cooperatively, which made him narrow his eyes.

“I think it’s not a good idea. You know, us, hooking up,” she added.

Looking him in the eye, it took no small amount of discipline not to let her gaze slip lower.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

They stood there, facing each other until she turned and walked out of the room. He followed, not saying a word. In the front room, comforted by the brighter light from the lamp, she wrapped her arms around herself, still warm and aroused, trying not to focus on how amazing he looked.

He smiled a little, killing her, and walked to the door. “Let me know if everything is okay with the AC, and, you know … if you change your mind.”

She smiled, nodding, and didn’t dare say a word in case she asked him not to go. When he was gone, she fell back into the chair and thought the next few weeks might not be quite as easy as she thought.

3

BEN KNEW THAT JOANNA WAS RIGHT. It probably wasn’t a good idea for them to get together, but after having her under him, he was only interested in getting her naked and in bed. He was pretty sure smart had nothing to do with it. He was also sure she wanted him just as much, and while they could back off for a while, if she stayed on here, it was going to happen.

He checked in on the band as they were doing their sound checks and visited with a few people across the room, the crowd thickening as the hour passed. Business would be good tonight.

Louis, the extra weekend bartender, was on drinks and Ben wondered where Charlie was. Heading back to the kitchen, Ben walked over to the huge pot on the stove where Charlie’s secret-recipe chili was bubbling away. Large pans of corn bread were cooling on the massive wooden block that dominated the center of the cooking space. That would be the only item on the menu tonight. Thursday through Saturday were specials-only nights. Most of the crowd was there for drinking and dancing, anyway.

Ben had no idea what his friend did to that chili, and Charlie wouldn’t tell anyone, but it was the best Ben had ever had in his life. It would be gone before the night was over, and Ben made a mental note to make sure he snagged a bowl or two before he went back to the house.

Charlie and Lisa would handle the night shift, giving Ben the evening off. Tonight, though, he was antsy, and he would rather have stayed busy.

He moved toward his office, the idea of balancing books was probably the only thing that could calm his desire after leaving Joanna. On the way, he heard some curious noises and stilled, listening closer.

After a moment, he realized he was hearing lusty sounds of sex that were quite identifiable and coming from the employee lounge. A female voice cried out, obviously too excited to keep mute, quickly followed by chuckling and whispers.

Charlie and Lisa, he realized, with no small bit of shock. Obviously thinking they were alone and taking a quick break out back.

Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Or, rather, he was fine—glad even—about his friends getting together, but break-room sex was a little … brazen. Not to mention breaking several health codes, he thought with a smile.

Maybe he was just jealous since he and Joanna hadn’t managed to close the deal. He’d happily break a few health codes with her. Taking a breath, he decided to bypass his office and head straight back out to the house. He didn’t want Charlie and Lisa knowing anyone had heard them. If they hadn’t said anything, it was because they wanted to keep whatever they were doing a secret. That was their business.

Needing to work off some steam, he ran upstairs in the two-story cabin and grabbed his shorts and running shoes.

He didn’t bother warming up but hit the side of the long road heading away from the Lucky Break running full-out. His body welcomed the punishment, and he pushed it harder in the second mile, muscles burning, but the nice rhythm that eventually set in calmed some of the agitation from the encounter with Joanna.

Not that any amount of exercise could equal the satisfaction he imagined he could find in her arms, but it would have to be close enough, since he was at an impasse.

Lost in his thoughts, he slowed down in the third mile and cast a glance backward as he noted an SUV behind him, in the distance. No problem. The sun was still up and he was easily visible. Drivers around here were always on the lookout for cattle or any wild animals that happened onto the road, especially at dusk.

To be extra safe, however, Ben moved over onto the sandy dirt on the side, keeping his pace as he heard the engine noise grow closer.

Pacing his breathing with his steps, he ignored the tingling at the base of his neck at first, something he’d always counted on as a SEAL as a sure sign that there was a problem.

The car had slowed down. Two people in the car. It hung back slightly. He slowed, and then heard the engine gun.

“Let’s see what’s going on,” Ben said to himself and turned right, heading off into the desert landscape, running toward a dune that would be too steep even for a vehicle outfitted for sand, which this one wasn’t.

He picked up the pace, closing the half mile to the dune, and sure enough, looked behind to see the SUV speed up, leaving the road and taking chase.

Ben knew every feature of the local landscape like the back of his hand, and as the sun started to lower on the horizon, shadows stretched over the ground and he hoped that would give him an advantage.

The SUV had four-wheel drive, and while it wasn’t doing as well negotiating around rocks and brush as Ben was, it was closing the distance between them too quickly. Ben headed up the sand hill and ignored the burning in his calves that told him he wasn’t working out as hard as he should be. He made a mental promise to start getting off the road and running across the mountains daily. Civilian life was no reason to become soft.

He made it to the top as the sun was dipping down under the horizon. With the advantage of cover and higher ground, he saw the SUV plow into the base of the dune, unable to follow.

“Now you’ll have to get out on foot, idiots,” he muttered, ducking down behind a fallen tree trunk to wait.

There were numerous other things to worry about in the desert as night fell, but for the moment, the two men who slammed the car doors shut and started up the dune were his biggest concern.

He could slide down the other side, circle around and get the car, leave them stranded. But he wanted to know who they were, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be back.

Watching one guy silently tell the other guy to split directions, Ben smiled to himself. Individually, he could take them both pretty easily.

Staying low, he went for the bigger one first. If he had the drop on that guy, it wouldn’t be hard to convince the other to give up.

They weren’t even wearing boots, he observed, watching one stop to dump sand out of what was probably an expensive dress shoe.

Doubling back over the top of the dune, Ben walked nearly silently, until he was standing behind the big man, who had his gun drawn. Ben poked him on the shoulder, and the guy jumped, surprised.

The gun went off, and Ben wasted no time grabbing the guy’s firing arm—controlling the hand that held the gun was always the first priority—and followed up with a hard left-cross that threw the guy backwards down the hill. His gun flew out of his hands as he tumbled down to the bottom, where he lay motionless.

Ben slid down the sandy face of the red sand dune feet-first, focused on his prey, not noticing the pain and abrasions his arms and legs were sustaining on the way down.

Grabbing the unconscious man, Ben confirmed that he was still living and grabbed his wallet, checking for what was inside: the ID was clearly fake, and Ben threw it back to the dirt. The car was a rental, though he noted the plate and rental company.

Moments later, he heard the labored breathing of the other guy approaching from the opposite side of the truck. Ben wasn’t the only one who needed to get in better shape, apparently.

The other assailant came around the back of the car. Ben slammed him hard, his gun going off before he dropped it and Ben got an arm lock on his throat.

“Who are you?” Ben demanded.

“Did you kill him?” the guy asked, sounding young and staring at the first guy, who was still out cold.

Ben didn’t respond, letting the guy’s fear work for him, squeezing a little tighter. One good twist and he would snap the man’s neck, though he had no intention of doing that. His prey didn’t know that, however.

The guy tried to fight, unsuccessfully, wheezing out a breath as Ben tightened his grip.

“Who. Are. You? And who sent you?” Ben asked again.

“Don’t know,” the guy huffed out. “We—we were hired anonymously, through contacts, you know? They gave us a picture, a location, said make it look like an accident. That’s all I know.”

Ben was inclined to believe him. The thug was young and had cracked too quickly under pressure.

“You need to find a better line of work, kid, before you end up dying young,” Ben said. “Get your buddy, leave, don’t come back, or you won’t get a second chance. Got it? You can pass that on to whoever hired you, too.”

Ben released his grip and slid backwards quickly in a move he knew would make it seem as if he had melted into the dark.

Ignoring the road, he took a long diagonal across the scrub desert back toward his house.

When he heard the car start behind him in the distance, the engine noise roaring off in the opposite direction, he relaxed and finished the walk, suddenly aware of his scraped, abraded skin.

Finally reaching his house, he walked in the back door and closed it, gulped a couple of glasses of water and took in the scrapes and bruises he’d acquired. Nothing too serious, though he had some of the other guy’s blood on his favorite running shirt. Must have hit him harder than he thought.

As he headed to the shower, he was stopped by a knock on the door, and he paused. Music was now blasting from the roadhouse, and he wondered if the two men in the desert had followed him. Sometimes customers, having drunk too much, wandered back to his house, thinking they could use the bathroom or whatever, and he had to send them back to the bar. Peering through the curtain at the edge of the room, he was surprised to see it was Joanna, his tension dissolving.

When he opened the door, she opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, her eyes widening as she took him in.

“What happened to you?”

“Went for a run in the desert, took a misstep. What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside so that she could come in.

“I was just going to ask if you minded me adding on another shift. Charlie and Lisa can barely keep up in there, and he called me down, but I thought I should check with you first,” she said, still taking in his appearance.

Tight black jeans and a black T-shirt hugged her shape, and he took in every inch, almost forgetting the events of the past hour. The silver and turquoise earrings she wore gave her an earthy, exotic look that made him want to pull her in and close the door, but instead he nodded.

“Yeah, definitely. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll be over to help as well. Usually three is enough for Thursdays, but I should have figured it would be busier with these guys playing,” he said.

“Great, thanks,” she said simply and turned, walking back to the roadhouse.

Once he closed the door again, what had happened out on his run came back with a vengeance.

The danger was real. If they knew about him, they probably knew about his parents, who lived just down the road, and his friends. Lisa and her kids—anyone who mattered. The realization only drove home for him how important it was for him to stay close. If he reported this to the marshals, they’d take him into custody, and leave his parents, Charlie, Lisa out here, alone. So he’d keep it to himself.

His next thought was of Joanna. This was not a good time to get into any kind of relationship—not that sleeping with her meant that they were in a relationship, per se. Still, anyone close to him was in danger, and that wasn’t fair to her. Not after what she’d just been through with the jerk that she’d left behind.

Ben would make sure no harm came to her either way, whether from outside, or due to his interest in her. He had the marshal’s number, but for now, he’d continue to take care of the situation himself.

He stepped out of the shower, wincing at a particularly sore scrape on his upper thigh. Bandaging it, he pulled on jeans and a black button-up, heading over to the bar. The deep bass beat of a popular country-rock tune vibrated through the ground as he walked from one door to the other, and he couldn’t help but look forward to seeing Joanna again, no matter what was going to happen—or not—between them.

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