freckles.”
Tanner. She felt his hands on her shoulders, his strong thumbs moving gently up and down the back of her neck.
The terror faded. He was here and would help hold her demons at bay. She leaned her head back against his abdomen.
Without taking his hands off her, Tanner crouched down so Gregory could see him in the screen.
“Hey, Tanner.”
“Hi, Greg. Looks like we might need to take a break for tonight.”
Frustration floated over the lawyer’s features. “Being able to talk about this on the stand will make a difference in the case. Bree’s already written it all out, so it’s just a matter of being able to say it.”
Tanner’s voice was calm but firm, and his fingers never stopped rubbing her neck. “You read it, so you know what sort of trauma we’re talking about. You’re going to have to be more patient. Bree will get there, but it’s going be on her timetable and nobody else’s. And besides, if she decides she doesn’t want to talk about all this, you’re going to have to find a workaround. You’ve got plenty of other stuff.”
Bree rubbed her eyes. She should be able to do this. “I’m sorry, Gregory...”
He held up a hand. “No, Tanner is right. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. God knows you’ve done enough to take the Organization, and Jeter, down.”
“Some days it’s easier to process the past than others.”
“Well, like Tanner said, we’ve got plenty to go on even if we don’t include details from your childhood.” Gregory’s voice dropped, and he gave her a sympathetic look. “But what he did to you so very clearly proves he’s a monster. If we can use that to our advantage, I think we should.”
Bree gave a tight smile and a nod, standing up and walking away from the table, as Tanner talked a few more moments with Gregory. She moved over to the front living room window, wrapping her arm around her midsection. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness—dark came early here in the heart of winter—but her mind could perfectly envision the beauty of Tanner’s ranch and the Rocky Mountains behind it. But right now the beloved scenery didn’t help.
She knew Michael Jeter was a monster. She just didn’t know if she could bear to relive it all.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she leaned back into Tanner’s strength once again. He didn’t say anything or ask her to try to voice her feelings. And she loved him more for it.
“Seems like it’s always one of our pasts coming back to haunt us,” she finally said.
Just a few months ago, it had been someone from Tanner’s past trying to hurt them. Now it seemed like it was back to being Bree’s turn.
His arms tightened around her. “You stuck with me through my monsters. You can be damn sure I’ll be doing the same for you with yours.”
“I know it happened so long ago and I shouldn’t let it affect me now.” She’d always thought herself so strong since she’d managed to survive on her own, but maybe that wasn’t correct. “I’m not really a survivor. I’m just a victim on the move. I haven’t really faced any of it.”
“You’re damn well not a victim, so I don’t want to hear any of that talk.” Tanner turned her in his arms so they were facing one another. “Just because you don’t dwell on it doesn’t mean you haven’t faced it. So what if your mind balks at the thought of sharing the most horrendous details of your life with complete strangers. Nothing wrong with that.”
“The thought of having to talk about this while Jeter is sitting right there in front of me? I’m just not sure I can do it.”
He pulled her more firmly against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. His big body seemed to surround her on every side. It was almost impossible not to feel like he could defeat any foe for her when he held her like this.
“I’ll be there with you every second you’re on that stand. You won’t have to look at him, you’ll look at me. I may hate that bastard with a passion for what he did to you, but I’ll always be thankful that, because of him, you ended up in Risk Peak.”
He was right. Michael Jeter didn’t have any control over her now. He was in jail, awaiting trial, and soon would be in prison. Probably forever. She didn’t want to give Jeter any more of her time. Any more of her life.
She twined her arms around Tanner’s neck. This was what was important. This man who meant everything to her. “Make love to me, Captain Hot Lips.”
He grinned at her nickname for him. “My pleasure.”
Immediately she found herself lifted by the hips and pressed into the window she’d just been looking out of.
There was no place for the ghosts of the past when all she could think about or feel was Tanner’s strong body pressed up against hers.
This man had been her only lover, and it was just fine with her if that was the case for the rest of her life. She couldn’t imagine she would ever find the same passion with someone else. And had no interest in trying.
Her head fell to the side, exposing her neck as those talented hot lips made their way down her jaw and onto her throat. She didn’t even try to hide the whimper that escaped her when his hand slid up the outside of her thigh and hooked her leg over his hip. It brought them in direct contact with each other.
There was nowhere else she’d rather be than right here with him. She let out another little moan, pulling him closer.
“If you don’t stop making those sounds, we are very definitely not going to make it to the bed,” he said against her throat.
“Maybe I don’t want to make it to the bed.”
With a moan of his own, he reached down and grabbed her other leg so they were both wrapped around his waist.
They both let out a hiss at the build of the friction, the heat, the passion that was always just a breath away between them.
And no, they didn’t make it to the bed.
When Bree woke the next morning Tanner was already out of bed, which wasn’t unusual—the man loved to wake with the dawn. She smelled coffee in the kitchen and padded from the bedroom to pour herself a cup.
Her heart stuttered in her chest as she caught sight of Tanner sitting in the rocking chair directly outside the window she’d been gazing out last night. He had a cup of coffee of his own resting on the porch railing.
When he’d been recovering from his stab wounds months ago they’d discovered that sitting out on the porch in the morning—even if it was only for a few minutes—helped settle his mind and get him ready for the day. His PTSD symptoms, a result of being held and tortured by a gang nearly four years ago now, were much easier to manage if he was able to take this quiet time in the morning.
She’d been wrong last night. She’d thought it had been her mind’s image of the land that had comforted her. But really it had been this image—Tanner looking out at the land that was so much a part of him him—that her mind had clung to. A strong, rugged man facing the strong, rugged land was the most breathtaking thing she’d ever seen.
She wrapped herself in a blanket and walked over and opened the door. His dazzling smile let her know she was more than welcome. She was almost to him when his arm just snaked out and wrapped around her waist, yanking her the rest of the way into his lap. His lips were cold against hers as he kissed her. She yelped and giggled.
“Good morning.”
She wondered if her heart would do somersaults in her chest every