Pulling the Trigger. Julie Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ pushed the door shut behind him. He might not hold her obsessive drive to escape Mesa Ridge and the reservation against her. Didn’t mean he had to let her fillet his heart open and char it over the flames of false hope and misguided passion again, either.

      “I’m just here to deliver this to a friend,” he explained, holding up the purse he carried.

      “Elizabeth?” She inclined her head toward the main hallway, exposing a swanlike expanse of neck that beckoned to randy memories from the past. “She’s in the break room making coffee. I’ll walk you back.”

      Though this sure as hell wasn’t the homecoming he’d once wished for, spending a few impersonal minutes in her company could no longer hurt him. Ethan shortened his stride and fell into step beside her. “Time has treated you well.”

      “You look good, too.” She arched an eyebrow and gave him a glimpse of the hesitant smile he remembered. “Your hair’s a lot shorter. And you—” her long, agile fingers gestured in the air “—filled out. Got big. You’re taller and broader both, it looks like to me.”

      More than six years of elite army training and service, plus the rugged outdoorsman life he led, did that to a man. “I guess.”

      “How’s Kyle?”

      It made sense that she’d ask about his younger brother. They’d been classmates and good friends. Of course, she and Ethan had been so much more than friends, but she didn’t need him to point that out. “He’s good. Married. Two kids. Lives in Cortez now.”

      “Still a man of few words, I see.”

      “No sense wasting them.” Stopping at Elizabeth Reddawn’s desk, Ethan set down the purse and unhooked his collar and loosened the black string tie he wore, silently assessing the changes in Joanna’s appearance as she turned to face him.

      Despite the warmth of her olive complexion and dark brown eyes, there was a brittleness to her ramrod posture and polite words. He idly wondered if a stroke of his fingertip across the nape of her neck could still make her shiver, or if the touch of his lips against hers could break through those invisible barriers she wore like body armor and unleash the warmth and softness and eagerness to explore her own sexuality he remembered.

      The black-as-midnight hair she’d pulled back into a sleek ponytail was shorter than the wild horse’s tail of a hairdo she’d worn through high school. She’d grown, too. Maybe it was the high heels she was wearing—he’d never seen those on her feet before—but the top of her head was just about even with his chin now. The curve of her lips sported a sheer berry tint that hadn’t been there fifteen years ago, and her tailored suit was a far cry from the jeans and tees she’d lived in back then. The beautiful woman standing in front of him looked as polished and businesslike and cold as the gun holstered at her waist.

      The curious, coltish tomboy who’d tagged along with him and his younger brother, Kyle, on their adventures around the reservation had vanished. The years apart had erased the young woman with the shy sensuality and big dreams whom he’d patiently coaxed into loving and trusting him. Pity there was no sign of the fire within that had once drawn him like a moth to a flame.

      But idle thoughts were as useless as idle words.

      “You’re FBI?” he asked.

      She nodded. “I made it into the program at Quantico after graduating with my master’s in psychology. Made it all the way to Washington, D.C., where I’m assigned now as a behavioral scientist and criminal profiler.”

      “Good.” That was what she’d wanted—to move East, to put the entire country between her and the memories of her parents’ deaths and the compounding tragedy that followed. She’d longed for urban landscapes and busy, diverse city streets instead of the endless red-rock terrain and isolation of the reservation and the small mountain towns like Mesa Ridge and Kenner City. She’d wanted to carry a gun and take down bad guys and give the victims like herself, who’d been denied a voice, a champion who could save the day. She’d wanted things he couldn’t give her. “Congratulations.”

      “Thanks.”

      So she’d finally gotten what she wanted. On some noble level, he was happy for her. But deeper down, somewhere between his battered heart and old man’s soul, it had always felt like unfinished business between them—as though fate and her stubborn will had seen fit to deny them the wonderful possibilities of loving each other.

      Just punishment, Ethan supposed. He hadn’t protected her well enough back then—hadn’t even sensed how badly she’d needed his protection until it was too late. He’d been more interested in getting in her pants and making her see the world—and their future together—through his eyes.

      Yeah. More than anyone he knew, Joanna Kuchu deserved to have her dreams come true. Even if those dreams didn’t include him. He was glad that she’d finally found her place in the world.

      After moving on for a while, he’d come to realize that he was already where he needed to be. He’d come home from that last hellish deployment to the land whose spirit flowed through him like his own blood. He needed the open space and quiet the way she needed the bustle and technology and new faces around every turn in the big city.

      When the silence stretched on long enough for her coffee-dark gaze to drop to the middle of his chest, Ethan knew there was no sense prolonging their would’ve-could’ve-should’ve-been reunion. He smoothed his hand over the top of his cropped hair and down the back of his scalp, taking away a palmful of dampness with it. There was no good way to let this woman go. He just had to do it. “I hope life always gives you what you need, Jo.”

      Her dark eyes flinched and darted back up to his. “You, too, Ethan. You’re kinder than I deserve. I’m…” Those berry lips tightened into a frown that tugged at both his heart and conscience. “I’m—”

      “I know.” He knew the sentiment by heart. “You’re sorry. So am I.” Before he could act on the impulse to take her in his arms to trade comforts and remind his body what hers felt like pressed against it, he pointed to the overstuffed bag he’d set on the counter. “Would you make sure Elizabeth gets this?”

      “Of course.”

      Ethan turned, ending the conversation and walking away. He needed the rain on his face to cool his skin along with the desire and regrets simmering just beneath the surface. He needed a long, fast drive into the countryside and a hike up into the mountains to put behind him his feelings for Joanna and the damnable understanding he had for why the two of them could never work.

       “Goodbye, Ethan.”

      Those dream-destroying words grated against his ears. Fifteen years and that woman could still get to him. Must be the guilt. Keep walking, buddy. You can’t change the past. He pushed open the door.

      “Agent Rhodes?” Patrick Martinez’s voice echoed through the reception area behind him. “I finished those calls. My men are en route to pick up the suspect.”

      Agent Rhodes? Ethan glanced over his shoulder and scanned for the second person his sharp eyes wouldn’t have missed. Wariness seeped up through the soles of his boots and put him on alert.

      “Hey, Ethan.” Martinez acknowledged him with a nod as he strode up beside Joanna. “You coming or going?”

      Turning, СКАЧАТЬ