The Sniper. Kimberly Van Meter

sworn she’d seen lust reflecting in his stare. But that couldn’t be right because when they’d broken up, he’d plainly stated he was no longer attracted to her. Had he lied? Why would he? Was she grasping at straws in the hopes of salvaging some shred of dignity or pride? Probably. She flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Exhaustion was setting in. Her brain was scrambled and she was clearly not operating on all four cylinders because if she were, she wouldn’t be trying to make sense out of the actions of a man she’d never truly known. Her eyelids dragged and she allowed them to close. Sleep was good. Maybe when she woke up, things would be clearer.

      Maybe when she woke up she’d discover that none of this had happened. She’d open her eyes and find herself back at her apartment, back to her regular life where no one was trying to kill her and her best friend Sonia was texting her to not forget the tortilla chips and salsa for Margarita Girls’ Night In.

      Maybe.

      Hopefully.

      * * *

      Nathan opened his laptop and attached his remote Hotspot to enable the internet connection. Within seconds his email popped up with an urgent message from his director, Tom Wyatt. The text was simple. Worried. Come talk.

      Nathan knew he could trust Tom but he didn’t want to put anyone else at risk until he knew what he was dealing with. He typed a quick reply, Will be in touch, and hit Send. He needed more information before he went to Tom with evidence that someone was dirty inside their tight-knit department. The problem? Nathan didn’t know where to start.

      How was he supposed to figure out who had it out for him if he didn’t know where to start looking? Perhaps the dead guy could lend a clue. It had been dark so getting a good look at his mug had been impossible but Nathan had a few contacts he could tap in the coroner’s office for an ID. He couldn’t risk a phone call—he didn’t know how secure the lines were—so that meant he’d have to make a trip back down the mountain to the coroner’s office. He hated the idea of venturing into the open again but his back was up against the wall. Besides, he supposed he couldn’t put off another trip for too much longer. Otherwise he ran the risk of Jaci prancing around in nothing but her skin and while he might’ve talked a good game, it wouldn’t take much to tear apart his defenses when it came to seeing Jaci naked.

      As if on cue, an erection began to grow behind his zipper. Just the idea of seeing Jaci in her birthday suit was enough to get his motor running. No! He was not about to mess with Jaci like that. He’d broken her heart on purpose and he wasn’t going to negate all that heartache just to get his rocks off.

      He ought to clear the air with Jaci, just so there weren’t hard feelings between them—or at the very least, no new hard feelings—but as he headed toward the bedroom, he suffered the distinct feeling that he was about to enter the lion’s den.

      However, as he pushed the door open slowly, he was surprised to see Jaci crashed out, sleeping hard. He didn’t blame her. Emotional fatigue was tough to run from. Grief, confusion and adrenaline made for a tumultuous emotional cocktail and eventually, the body just shut down to catch up. Jaci was sprawled across the bed, her position catching him in a tight spot between longing and too many memories.

      “You’re ticklish,” Jaci said with a surprised giggle as a memory popped loose from his mental cache. They’d spent the afternoon in bed at a small bed-and-breakfast he’d found on the northern coast. There’d been no phone, no cable and no internet access—and it had been heaven. The weekend had been filled with sex, food and more sex with a shower or two thrown in to rinse off their activities so they could start fresh. And Jaci had discovered, quite by accident, his tickle spot right below his rib cage.

      “No tickling,” he’d said with mock seriousness as he flipped her onto her back. “Otherwise, I’ll have to reciprocate and I know you’re ticklish all over.”

      “I can’t help that my skin is sensitive,” she’d said with a playful grin. “Every little touch is like a sensory smorgasbord.”

      “Hmm... A smorgasbord... An all-you-can-eat buffet with Jaci on the menu... Sounds like my kind of place,” he had murmured as he dipped lower to kiss the soft skin of her belly. The skin, fair and unblemished, was unlike any he’d ever seen. Her legs went on for miles and her breasts were full and high, almost more perfect than any natural breasts he’d ever seen. He had moved a little lower, lightly grazing the sensitive skin above her feminine folds with the stubble on his chin. “How about here?” She’d squealed in response and he’d grinned. “Or here?” He’d traveled to her inner thigh and sucked a tiny spot of flesh into his mouth. She had nearly rocketed off the bed, gasping.

      “I give! I give! No more,” she had begged but Nathan had begun to see the allure of tickling and wanted to tease her just a bit more. He’d spent the next forty-five minutes discovering all the places that made Jaci tremble and moan.

      He exhaled softly and shook off the memory. He hated knowing that other men had touched her intimately since they’d broken up. Intellectually he’d known that a woman as striking as Jaci wouldn’t stay lonely long but emotionally it tore him up to know that other men had been with her.

      God, he missed her. He couldn’t admit it out loud but he could admit it in the privacy of his mind. He missed everything about her. Hell, he even missed the sound of her off-key notes bouncing off the shower walls as she murdered every popular song on the radio. But mostly he missed the quiet evenings alone where they did their own thing but still managed to feel connected. It’d been in those moments when he’d felt normal—as if they were simply like any couple on the block who hosted backyard barbecues and pool parties with friends and argued about where to put the ugly art she seemed to enjoy or the tacky beer signs he favored. What a cruel joke fate had pulled on them both.

      Nathan pushed away from the door and closed it behind him. He’d left Jaci to keep her safe. Even if it cost him his life, he’d make sure that no harm ever came to her. Whether she wanted it or not, that was his promise to her.