Gut Instinct. Barb Han

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      “With this cold front it’ll be twenty degrees after the sun goes down. I can’t let you do that. You’ll freeze to death.”

      “I’ll keep the heat on in my truck.”

      “It just seems silly for you to be out there when you could set up right here.”

      She must be awfully scared to make that offer. “I’m pretty certain I’m the last person you want to see. Let alone have sleeping under the same roof.”

      She folded her arms. He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of regret or sadness darken her features. “True.”

      He made a move to stand. Her hand on his arm stopped him. An electric volt shot through him, warming places it shouldn’t.

      “I thought if I ever saw you again, it would be for different reasons.” Her lip quivered, but she compressed her mouth. Damn, it was still sexy when she was being stubborn.

      “Yeah. Me, too. For the record, I don’t like this any more than you do.” Scratch that. He liked this situation boatloads less than anyone possibly could, even her. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to fantasizing about meeting up with her again once he got his head screwed on straight. This scenario had never once entered his imagination.

      “Luke.”

      “Yeah.”

      “You look...better. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

      He smiled and meant it. For some reason those words mattered to him.

      “And you seem different now,” she said. A melancholy note laced her tone.

      The anger was gone from her voice completely now, but the sadness was far worse. Anger he could handle, fight head-to-head. He understood anger. Her sounding broken was a sucker punch to his solar plexus.

      Her world had been turned upside down. She was reaching for comfort. He was still the same man she’d wanted to gut a few minutes ago. “Everyone changes a little, right?”

      “Nope. Not everyone.”

      Was she referring to herself or Herb?

      Reminders that he had no right to care didn’t hold weight. He stood and walked to the door. “I’ll check in with the officer stationed out back before I take my post.”

       Chapter Two

      The last person Julie wanted to see after the hell she’d been through today was her ex-husband. How long had it been? Three years? Four?

      Worse yet, the deep timbre in his voice still caused her nerves to fizz and her body to hum. The effect he’d had—correction, still had—on her was infuriating and not to mention completely out of place under the circumstances.

      His expertly defined muscles on a six-foot-one-inch frame made for an imposing presence. Those golden eyes, light brown curly hair, dimpled chin and cheeks brought back memories of lying in bed long after she woke just so she could watch him sleep. Her body reacted to that.

      Besides, that was a lifetime ago.

      Her cell vibrated. She read the incoming text. Alice was on her way. Good.

      Julie heated water in the microwave and made a cup of chamomile tea to calm herself and give her something to do besides think about her ex. Hadn’t she spent enough time trying to get over him? And she was almost certain she had.

      Almost.

      She threw on a pair of yoga pants and curled up on the couch with the steaming brew. She was less than thrilled her ex had shown up. Even so, she wasn’t stupid. He was FBI. She’d do whatever he said to stay alive.

      There was some relief that he looked better than when he’d come back from Iraq. Then he’d been a shell of the once-charismatic, -vibrant and -sexy-as-hell man he’d been.

      She still remembered the day she’d learned his tour was finished and he’d be coming home. She’d sat on this very couch, where they’d made love more times than she could count, and cried tears of joy.

      Nothing had prepared her for the day Luke walked through that door.

      She hugged the pillow into her stomach and took a sip of her hot tea.

      The cool, courageous and fearless man she’d once stayed up all night talking to was gone. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten or shaved or slept in weeks. His eyes were deep set. He’d been dehydrated, starved or both. He barely spoke when he walked through the door and then folded onto the couch.

      His vacant expression had startled her the most.

      He’d refused to talk. The only thing she knew for sure was something very bad had happened overseas. Her determination to be there for him solidified even though he gave her zero reasons to hang on. Julie Campbell didn’t quit. Her father had sown those seeds years before and the crop was fully grown.

      Even though Luke had shut her out completely, she was convinced she’d break through and find the real him again. The days had been long and fruitless. Then there were the nightmares. He’d wake drenched with sweat but refusing to talk about it. The slightest noise sent him to a bad place mentally—a prison, one he wouldn’t allow her access to.

      She held on to their relationship, to the past, as long as she could before there was nothing left between them but sadness and distance. Then he left.

      Seeing him now, he looked different but stronger.

      She sank deeper into the couch.

      Living on his own must agree with him.

      She heard a noise from out back and fear skittered across her nerves. She told herself to calm down. There was a police officer stationed out there and Luke covered the front. No one could hurt her. She was safe. Luke wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.

      Even so, a warning bell sounded inside her. She turned out the light in the living room, slipped next to the curtain and peeked out the window. Luke’s truck sat out front. Empty. He should be at his post by now. Where was he?

      A knock at the back door caused her to jump.

      Adrenaline had her running toward the kitchen, needing to know if Luke was there.

      The tapping on the door increased and intensified, causing her heart to lurch into her throat.

      She forced her rubbery legs to carry her the rest of the way into the kitchen.

      “Julie” broke through the pounding noise. Luke’s voice gave her strength to power forward.

      She cracked the door.

      He forced it all the way open and pushed his way inside. His weapon was drawn as he leaned his shoulder against the door for support. His dark eyes touched hers. “Thank God you’re safe.”

      “What happened, Luke? What’s wrong?”

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