door quietly.
His heart sank. He’d lashed out and made that stupid-ass mistake when he’d been angry and in pain. It had affected them deeply, but then they’d both screwed up. She should have trusted him with the truth. She had to have known he’d never put his mother and sister in danger. That he’d move heaven and earth to keep Holland safe.
Still, someone had to give in, and his mistake had been far worse. He’d make the first gesture. Maybe he could finally win her once and for all. This was his first night back in her life and he was already sleeping on her couch. He remembered where that had led the last time.
And she’d called him Dax.
He sat down in front of his computer and started his search, more hopeful than he’d been in years.
* * *
Holland pressed the button on the coffeemaker and sighed as she looked around her kitchen. Her houseguest was far too used to a maid apparently. Or having a whole boat of underlings eager to curry favor and clean up after the boss. She knew he’d been on leave for a while, and it seemed to have played hell with his normal cleanliness.
The half-empty pizza box still sat out on the bar. The wine bottle was corked but his whiskey sat open, tempting her. The only thing he’d cleaned up was the couch. She saw no sign that he’d slept there at all. She’d glanced into the hall closet and noted he’d neatly folded and stacked his sheets, along with the crappiest blanket and pillow she owned. This morning she felt vaguely guilty for what must have been an uncomfortable night.
Around her, the scene looked as if she’d enjoyed a nice date the night before. Or a work-related evening. It certainly hadn’t been a date. Papers and pictures from the case files littered her dining room table. His laptop still sat there and she wondered how late he’d stayed up.
She tried not to think about the fact that she’d slept well for once. And dreamed about him. It wasn’t like she didn’t do that often. It was simply that this time the dream hadn’t morphed into something terrible. This time, he’d held her and made love to her and begged her forgiveness. His hands had moved over her body, offering repentance with every hungry stroke.
Nope. She wasn’t going to think about that.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and wondered how long he’d been in the shower. She could hear it running in the guest bathroom. He was in the bathroom—naked. Had his body changed? His heart? What had happened during the years they’d spent apart? She’d studied him the night before and beyond the change in his hair length, she’d seen a few small lines around his eyes that betrayed the three years that had passed.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall of her living room. What did Dax see? Had she changed in the three years since she’d pushed him away? She saw a woman dressed in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt that covered her properly. No more sexy things for Holland. She’d thrown them all out.
She’d also thrown out so much of her sexuality the minute she’d lost Dax. Was that why it hadn’t worked with any other man? Had she been part of the problem because she lacked some sensual quality? Or was she a sad sack who had given her heart once and her body had followed?
When Dax touched her the night before, her skin had come alive again. She hadn’t felt as if she’d truly been living for three long years.
The shower turned off and she could picture him stepping out, his body glistening with moisture. Once, she’d loved to shower with him. Silly thing. She’d been with the man for such a short time and yet they’d made their own rituals, which she missed to this day. She used to hop in the shower to get ready for work and Dax would inevitably follow. Often they stayed there entwined until the water went cold.
How could she miss something she’d never really had? She’d dated Chad for so much longer. Yet with the exception of the humiliating Internet video, she couldn’t single out a memorable moment they’d shared. Being alone again had been a guilty relief.
Despite the fourteen months she’d spent with Chad, they’d never gotten around to moving in together. Never even talked about it. Dax had practically moved in the night he’d returned to her.
She had to wonder if he wasn’t re-creating the damn scenario. He’d fallen asleep that first night on her couch and the night before he’d positioned himself right back there again.
How long would she really be able to hold out when she already wanted him so badly?
She heard a knock on her door. Muttering a little curse, she swore once again she would change the downstairs code. This time she looked through the peephole, anticipating that Gemma or someone else from work had come to ask why the holy hell she was now on a presidential task force of two.
Nope. It was so much worse.
With a long sigh, she opened the door. “Hello, Chad.”
Chad Michaels stood in her doorway, his suit pressed to perfection. Somehow he managed to look neat even in the heat of a New Orleans morning. Her hair was already curling, but his blond perfection was ruthlessly gelled back in a sleek do. “Holland. I’ve heard some very distressing rumors and I wanted to stop by to check in on you.”
He stepped into her apartment without an invitation.
“This is really not a good time.” She wasn’t sure how the hell she was going to explain the man in the bathroom. Unfortunately, unlike Chad, Dax’s grooming routine didn’t take an hour. Dax pretty much showered and brushed his teeth and called it good. Chad could spend hours on his man moisturizer and plucking invisible hairs from his brows.
Why had she slept with him?
He smiled down at her and she could smell his powerful cologne. “You didn’t change the code to the stairway. Someone’s having second thoughts, I think.”
“Yes, I am definitely having second thoughts about changing the code.” She would do it the minute she got rid of him.
He chuckled. “I pushed you too hard. It was too fast. Everyone knows I go after what I want. That works for me most of the time. I didn’t mean to upset you. I think we should talk. We both said a few things we didn’t mean last week.”
She couldn’t think of a single thing she hadn’t meant. “I only said no. I meant that, Chad. Look, I’m so sorry I turned you down in such a public manner. I would never have willingly humiliated you. But you didn’t exactly consult me beforehand. I never gave you any indication that I wanted to marry you.”
She’d been floored, utterly caught off guard that he’d been even thinking about a long-term future. Holland had barely considered where they would go for their next date night.
“You’re not ready to get married,” he allowed. “I talked to Dr. Jansen about my feelings and I really worked some things out. It took a while. I’ve been in session every day since you turned me down. It’s cost me a lot, but it’s brought me here. Holland, I forgive you.”
“That’s awesome.” The dude spent entirely too much time with his overpriced therapist. How did Chad even afford him? “But I think we should end things here, on a positive note. Forgiveness is good. It’s time for both of us to move on. Thanks for stopping by.”
Any minute, Dax would step out and this would blow up in her face if she couldn’t convince Chad to go.
Despite the fact that she’d opened the door, Chad didn’t move an inch. “According to Dr. Jansen, your fear of intimacy and your inability to commit stem from your childhood experiences. I understand that now. Let’s start over. I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Jansen for you this afternoon. Even your uncle agrees that you should see someone.”
She felt her jaw drop and slammed the door. “You talked to my uncle about this?”
He watched her with a sickening sympathy on his face. “Your uncle understands that I’m good for you. Your refusal last week was part of a need to play out your own mother’s unhappiness. It was an irrational decision and one you should explore in therapy. I think once you acknowledge that you’re allowing your past to hamstring you, we can get back on track.”
“Let me
tell you something, buddy. If I wanted to play out my mother’s unhappiness, I would find the nearest superhot, emotionally unavailable Naval officer and go to town.” Yes, now she was remembering all the reasons she and Chad weren’t compatible. He could be a sanctimonious douche nozzle.
“I understand your reluctance.” He frowned as he paced deeper into her apartment and glanced at the bar. “Really? Wine and hard liquor? Have you been doing this all week? And pizza? You know what carbs after noon can do to you. This is more self-destructive behavior.”
“Ah, the whiskey is mine and I helped her on the pizza. I actually encouraged her to eat. She’s getting a little skinny,” a familiar voice said.
Damn it to hell. Holland shook her head and turned, praying the situation didn’t look as bad as she feared. Nope. It was so much worse. Dax stood there wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his lean waist, his chest all muscled and perfect. He carried a second towel, which he rubbed over his wet head.
“Captain, why don’t you go and get dressed?” She managed to bite the words out, her whole body flaming with embarrassment.
Dax grinned and winked her way. “Sorry, sweetheart. I thought we were alone.”
“Well, you can see now that we’re not,” she shot back. “So clothes would really be appropriate here.”
“All right, then. I suppose I could get dressed after our lazy morning.” He grabbed his bag and turned to the bathroom. Just when she thought she was home free, he whirled back, his eyes narrowing on Chad. “You look familiar, kid. Maybe I saw you on YouTube or someplace. And just so you know, Holland, I’m completely emotionally available, so don’t you go thinking you can use me for some psychosexual therapy thing. I am available to you in every way a man can be to his woman, darlin’.”
She sighed as he strode off and closed the door behind him.
“Is that who I think it is?” Chad had turned a perfect shade of red. Even his angry flush looked as if someone had painted it on his skin. He didn’t go blotchy the way she did.
How had she ended up dating a man prettier than her? “It depends. Who do you think he is?”
“Captain Daxton Spencer, one of the president’s closest friends, but more important, the man who dumped you for your best friend.”
“I didn’t dump her. She dumped me and I ended up in a drunken marriage,” Dax yelled from the bathroom, proving that while she couldn’t hear anything outside her apartment, the walls were superthin inside. “So really when you think about it, it’s all Holland’s fault. Did she send me a happy divorce present? Nope. Not even a card.”
She had something she could send him. Holland yanked a pillow off the sofa and threw it at the door, wishing it had been Dax’s head. “You jerk.”
Chad ignored their byplay. He turned her around, hands tight on her shoulders. “That man used you and made you look like a fool. Everyone knows it.”
“Really?” She wasn’t able to keep the bitterness from her tone. “Everyone? I think there are some people who don’t know. Maybe in Antarctica. And it’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business. I love you, Holland. I’m the man who stayed with you, the one who watched out for you. Not him.”
She let go of her anger. It was misplaced. “You’ve misunderstood the situation, Chad. Captain Spencer and I are working together on a project. That’s all. We worked late and he ended up sleeping on the couch. But the truth of the matter is, my love life is no longer your concern. I appreciate that you came here to check on me, but it’s not necessary.”
He strode to her dining room, looking to the whiteboard she’d set up and the documents they’d printed out and pinned there. Despite the fact that they each had a laptop, it was simply easier for them to look at everything together on a whiteboard. She preferred it because it often gave her an overview she didn’t have when she looked at pieces of evidence separately.
His eyes flared as he turned to her. “Do you know what kind of trouble you could get into for giving that man access to those documents? Did you even run it by your supervisor? Some of these are NOLA PD documents. Did you get them transferred to you through proper channels?”
Chad was big on proper channels. “My uncle gave them to me. You can ask him yourself.”
“If he did, it wasn’t so you could call up that manwhore and lure him back into your life. This case is closed. It’s been closed for years. If Captain Spencer wants to stir up trouble again, let him do it on his own time.”
“Would love to, but apparently I’m now on a presidential task force and Dax is my boss.”
Chad stopped. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means she can’t talk about it.” Dax strode back into the room. At least this time he was wearing a pair of jeans. He seemed to have forgotten his shirt again. “This case is classified. I’ll let you know if we need the help of the New Orleans PD.” He turned her way. “Sweetheart, do you still like your eggs over medium?”
“I like my eggs alone. They’re so much happier that way.” When had she completely lost control of the situation? This scene was like something out of a terrible comedy of errors, especially when Dax walked into the kitchen and proceeded to prove he knew exactly where she kept everything. How did he remember where she stored her skillet after three years?
Chad frowned and took her by the elbow, hauling her back. “You need to explain to me what’s going on right now. Why is that man here?”
“You need to get your hands off her,” Dax said, following them. He looked awfully masculine for a man with a cast-iron skillet and spatula in his hands. Somehow he made both ordinary kitchen tools look like the weapons of a predator.
“I can handle Chad, Captain Spencer.”
“Yes, Captain Spencer.” Chad curled one arm around her shoulders in a possessive move. “This is between me and my fiancée. So back off. I’ll put my hands on her whenever I like.”
Dax started to puff up in that caveman way that shouldn’t be so damn sexy. But it was. Still, as interesting as it might be to see him take Chad down, she could do it herself.
Holland grabbed Chad’s wrist to prod him to let her go. When he tightened his hold instead, she flipped him neatly onto his back, his weight hitting her floor with a loud bang that hopefully didn’t upset Madame Delphine in the unit beneath her.
Chad leapt to his feet faster than she would have liked, his face now a florid red. “You’re going to regret this, Holland. When he fucks you over again, you’re going to wish you had chosen differently. You’re going to look back and regret ever leaving me.”
He stormed out of the apartment.
Dax grinned her way. “Or would you rather have an omelet?”
She barely managed not to scream.
THIRTEEN
Dax couldn’t help it. He knew a smug grin sat plastered on his face since he was still standing inside Holland’s apartment and that dumbass was currently running away with his overly stylized tail between his legs. “Is your uncle recruiting officers at Abercrombie and Fitch these days?”
She locked the door and took a deep breath before she turned around, a warning glare in her eyes. “Don’t even start. What the hell was all that preening peacock routine, Spencer?”
Ah, they were back to Spencer. So she’d regrouped during the night. “I was just getting clean, partner. I intend to be a very good coworker to you, and part of that is keeping a good grooming ritual. And if you need any help at all with yours, I am here for you. I seem to remember there’s a place right at the small of your back that you struggle to reach. I can help.”
She flushed and he was almost certain that pink color wasn’t all about anger. “I can handle it, Captain. After all, I’ve been handling it on my own for the last three years. Did you help your wife bathe?”
She knew exactly where to stick the knife. “Do you want to talk about Courtney?”
“No. I told you. I don’t care about your marriage or yo
ur divorce. Or anything but the case.” She huffed, a frustrated sound. “I’m going to get dressed and then we can start working. The faster we solve this thing, the quicker you’ll be out of my life.”
She turned on her heel and stomped away.
For a woman who didn’t want to talk about his marriage, she brought it up an awful lot. He sighed and went to her fridge to figure out what to make for breakfast. Maybe she would be in a better mood if he fed her.
Dax really wished he’d punched that asshole. Carbs after noon? Was he fucking serious? Had he made Holland feel bad about her curves? She was a gorgeous woman, and he adored every inch of her. No one should ever make her feel like she wasn’t perfect.
Though he did intend to get her to eat more.
He opened the fridge and realized he would have to actually buy her some food to accomplish that. There was nothing in the fridge except a bagged salad, some condiments, and a small