Critical Doubt Read online

  "Since the menu basically consists of chowder and bread, I'm good," she said with a smile.

  A moment later, the woman handed them a large brown bag. "I threw in some of your favorite oatmeal raisin cookies," she said. "Just in case you or your friend have a sweet tooth."

  "You're too good, Lois," Ryker said.

  "Oh, I know. That's what everyone tells me when I give them cookies. Don't be a stranger now."

  "I won't be. I'll see you later."

  As they left the restaurant, she said, "I hope your boat isn't too far away, because my stomach is rumbling."

  "It's not far at all."

  "So, do you eat here every day?"

  "Sometimes I manage every other day. On the off days, I'll cook up whatever fish I've caught on a grill on the boat."

  "It really is a simple life, isn't it?"

  "Yes. Or at least it was," he said, his tone changing.

  She was sorry to see the grin fade from his lips. But, hopefully, the boat would bring back the smile.

  Ryker opened a gate and they walked down a long dock to a boat with the name Escape scrawled on the side.

  "The name is perfect."

  "It is. The previous owner named the boat, but when I saw the word Escape, it cinched the deal. At that moment, it was all I wanted to do." He helped her on board. "Welcome to my home."

  The boat was in great condition. Clearly, Ryker took good care of it. And while there was a lingering smell of fish, it wasn't overpowering. He gave her a quick tour of the boat from the fishing deck that could also be enclosed during cold weather to the cockpit, which apparently had all the bells and whistles to not only sail but find fish. Downstairs, there was a galley with fridge, microwave, and grill, and a stateroom with attached bathroom.

  "It's nicer than I thought," she said, as she stopped by his perfectly made bed. "Can't shake your military training, can you?"

  "Nope."

  "I like your home. It's cozy."

  "It has everything I need. Heat in the winter and air-conditioning in the summer. I can take groups of six to eight out to fish. So, this baby pays her way." He paused. "Do you want to go out on the bay? It's a nice afternoon."

  "What about our chowder?"

  "We'll take it with us."

  "All right." It was probably a good idea to leave the stateroom alone. It was a little too intimate. It would be better if they were up on deck, with the fresh air blowing against their faces.

  As they moved through the galley, Ryker grabbed a couple of spoons from a drawer, and then led her upstairs.

  She helped Ryker ready the boat and then stood next to him as he motored out of the harbor.

  They passed a few boats heading in for the day. One of the skippers gave Ryker a wave. He might have isolated himself, but wasn't completely alone, and she thought that was a good thing.

  "Ready to eat?" he asked, when they got out onto the bay.

  "I thought you'd never ask." She handed Ryker his soup and then took the seat next to him as she opened her container.

  The soup not only smelled wonderful, it tasted heavenly. "Okay, I know why they call it Chowder Heaven," she said.

  He laughed. "It's Lois's grandmother's secret recipe," he said, as he put a spoonful of chowder in his mouth.

  "It's the best chowder I've ever had. Or maybe it just tastes better out here on the water."

  "Everything is better on the water."

  She smiled as the wind lifted his thick brown waves and the sun brought a warmth to his face. He caught her gaze and her stomach fluttered. So, she looked back at her soup and tried to ignore the desire building within her.

  They finished eating in silence, the quiet continuing as Ryker sailed along the shoreline. She'd never been on the Chesapeake, and she loved all the inlets and coves, and the beach houses with their boat docks. She wouldn't mind having one of those homes, her own deck, her own boat.

  "What about those houses?" she asked Ryker. "You could live next to the water instead of on it."

  "I'm not looking for roots right now. What about you?"

  "I'm also not looking for roots, but those houses sure are pretty. And I like this bay."

  "Is it better than the Pacific Ocean? You said you live by the beach."

  "It's not better, but it's different. There's a calmer vibe, at least to this part of the bay." She drew in a breath and let it out. She'd been wound up tight ever since she'd gotten the call from Abby about Paul's death last Thursday. It had been one thing after the next since then. And adding Ryker into the mix had completely overwhelmed her.

  She could handle the investigation, the search for the truth. She just wasn't as sure she could handle the way she was feeling about him. They were getting closer by the minute, but there was nowhere to go. Their lives were in different places geographically, emotionally and in every other possible way.

  She'd slept with him once before, knowing she'd never see him again, but it would be different this time. She knew his name. She knew his wounds. She knew his heart.

  And he knew her. They wouldn't be strangers in the night this time around. There had been something so easy about their one-night stand. It had been spontaneous, reckless, and exciting.

  Getting together now would be completely different. It couldn't possibly be as good.

  But what if it could be?

  She knew she was thinking too much, so she tried to force all the what-ifs out of her head and just be in the moment. "This is great, Ryker. It's so beautiful out here."

  He gave her a warm smile. "I'm glad you think so."

  "I kind of hate the idea that we have to go back to DC. It's been a crazy few days."

  "It has." He ran a hand through his hair as he gazed out at the water. "I almost didn't come to the funeral, you know. I didn't really decide until I got on the plane. Up until that point, I kept thinking I might bail."

  "How did you hear that Paul died?" she asked curiously.

  "Abby's mother sent me an email, letting me know about the service, saying Abby would like me to come. Those words rang through my head for the next two days. I didn't want to let her down. But I also didn't want to see anyone until I was normal again."

  "Is anyone really normal?"

  "You are."

  "Are you kidding? With all my family issues? I don't think so. I do know what you mean, though. I just think the problem is bigger in your head than it is to the rest of us. No one looking at you would know you hear bells at odd times."

  "Until I start shouting at them to shut up."

  "That doesn't happen that often. You mostly just get quiet and stiff and shake a little."

  "That must be fun to watch," he said dryly.

  "It's not fun. You're in pain. And I want to help you, but I can't."

  "You've helped a lot more than you know. You've done more for me than anyone, Savannah."

  "Only because I forced you to hold my hand once or twice."

  "Sometimes I need a push."

  "Or a hard kick in the ass."

  "That, too," he admitted. "I hate being less than I should be."

  "That's the most difficult part, isn't it? Accepting your limitations."

  "It's my new reality. I have to accept it. I have to live with it. But it's rough. I've always had expectations for myself. I never set limits. I always thought I could break through any ceiling above me, any wall in front of me. I liked obstacles. I thrived on challenge. The harder it was, the more I liked it, the more I wanted to win. But I was taken down by a god-damn bell. And that makes me almost as crazy as the wild sounds in my head."

  "I still think they mean something, Ryker. Maybe later tonight we can piece things together. Hopefully, we get a few more clues when we meet with Hank and Mason."

  "Hopefully. But let's not think about that now." He turned the wheel, suddenly sending them in a new direction.

  "Where are we going?" she asked curiously.

  "One of my favorite coves."

  "You don't think we
need to head back?"

  "Not yet. As you said, we have plenty of time and this place is too pretty not to share with you."

  A few minutes later, they ended up in a quiet cove with low hanging tree branches providing shade and a bounty of colorful flowers along the shoreline. There were no houses nearby. It was wild and beautiful.

  "Wow," she murmured. "It kind of takes your breath away. It's so beautiful."

  "I agree," he said, but he wasn't looking at the view; he was gazing at her. "I think it's time I got my kiss, Savannah."

  "You do, huh?"

  "Yep."

  She got to her feet. "Okay."

  Despite her agreement, neither one of them made a move to breach the two feet of space between them.

  "It might be a bad idea," he warned.

  "It probably is. I don't think either one of us will want to stop at one kiss."

  "No, but it's whatever you want, Savannah. You don't owe me anything. You were joking earlier when you said you owed me a kiss. I don't have to collect."

  "I know that. The truth is I've been thinking about kissing you ever since we first saw each other at the church. After the explosion, the kiss felt so good that I couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. But if we try to recreate what we had, it might be disappointing."

  "Or incredible." He paused, giving her a serious look. "It wouldn't be just sex this time, Savannah. I like you. I don't want to hurt you. Which is why I'm still talking…"

  She smiled. "I like you, too. You don’t have to worry about hurting me. I know what I want."

  "That's what you said the first time we met. I liked how direct you were."

  "I meant it then. I mean it now. So, are we going to talk all day or—"

  He suddenly moved, cutting off her question with a hungry, possessive kiss. Running his hands through her hair, he trapped her in his embrace, and she had no desire to escape. She wanted more kisses, more touches, more of everything.

  Today felt a lot like the first time they'd been together, when the passion had exploded—hot, intense, needy, driving every other thought out of her mind.

  She pressed her body against his, her nerves jangling, her anticipation building. Wrapping her arms around his back, she pulled him even closer. He might think he was weak, but she could feel the power in his body, the demand in his kiss. And she gave him what he was asking for, because it was exactly what she was asking for.

  He broke away, giving her a scorching look as he drew in a ragged breath. "Bed," he said shortly, grabbing her hand and leading her down the stairs to his stateroom.

  "It's so neat," she murmured. "I hate to mess it up."

  "Are you kidding? I can't wait to mess it up."

  "In that case…" She pulled her sweater up and over her head.

  He groaned when he saw her breasts spilling out of her lacy black bra. "I missed these beautiful breasts," he said, cupping them with his hands.

  She reached behind her back to undo the clasp and he helped her take off her bra, sliding his warm fingers across her nipples.

  And then he stepped back.

  "Where could you possibly be going?" she asked in surprise.

  "One second." He moved into the adjoining bathroom and came back with two condoms, which he tossed onto the narrow shelf next to the bed. "Now, I'm ready."

  She put her hand on the impressive bulge in his pants. "I'd say so."

  He laughed. "Let me get these off."

  "Do it fast."

  "Everything is probably going to be fast," he joked.

  She smiled, reminded of the fun they'd had before. She'd forgotten this part—the teasing, the smiles, the laughter. Nothing about that night had been awkward and it felt exactly the same way now.

  While he was getting rid of his clothes, she stripped off her jeans and panties and stretched out on the bed, taking a moment to appreciate his very fine male body. But he didn't give her long to look. He was eager to taste and touch, and so was she.

  It wasn't just as good as she remembered; it was better. Their hearts were connecting as well as their bodies. Every intimate gaze meant something. Every kiss brought them closer.

  When they came together completely, he was looking right at her, and she thought for the first time in her life that he really saw her, really knew her. And she knew him. There was nothing but honesty between them and that made their climax so much more intense and also a little terrifying.

  Any rejection that might come later was going to hurt. But she pushed that thought out of her head. She'd deal with the pain if she had to; now it was just going to be about pleasure.

  Ryker held Savannah's soft, naked, sexy body as they came down from the wild ride they'd just been on. Now, they lay on their sides, face-to-face, their breaths beginning to slow down. Savannah's hair fell over her bare shoulders, and he played with the silky ends, as he gave her a smile that came from way down deep.

  He'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel so happy, so complete. And he hoped she felt the same way. Her light eyes were sparkling in the now shadowy light, which brought a new sense of awareness to the passing time. He shifted slightly so he could look at his watch.

  "Is my time up?" she asked, humor in her voice.

  "It's almost five. We should get back to the dock. We'll need at least an hour to get into DC, maybe more at this time of day."

  "I hate to go."

  "Me, too," he said, pressing his lips against her forehead. He closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of her, wanting to make it a memory that would never leave him, even if she did. And she would leave. Or he'd make her go, because his life wasn't a life for sharing, not the way he was now. She could handle an afternoon on the boat, but she had her own life to lead, and that life wasn't here.

  Her arms tightened around him, and she pulled away slightly so she could look at him. "I just have to say… Second time around, just as spectacular as the first."

  "I might need another round before giving my opinion."

  "Really? I thought you were in a hurry to get back to DC."

  "Well, round three can be later tonight."

  "I'm not against that, but we should probably not make promises that we might not be able to keep."

  "I hear you," he said, although he didn't really like what he was hearing. But his sense of duty was coming back. As much as he wanted to blow off the rest of the world and make love to Savannah for as long as she'd stay in his bed, he was still on a mission to get to the truth, to find justice for his fallen brothers, and to protect the ones who were still alive. "But I want us to make one promise that we can both keep."

  "What's that?"

  "No leaving without good-bye."

  She met his gaze. "I can do that."

  "So can I."

  She framed his face with her hands and gave him a long kiss that made him less inclined to want to get out of bed. But then she was rolling off the mattress, grabbing her clothes, and moving into the head.

  He slid off the bed and put on his clothes. As his phone fell out of his jeans, he realized it was still off. Savannah probably wouldn't appreciate him turning it on, but he wanted to make sure he didn't have any messages from Mason or Hank.

  As the phone came on, there was a text from Mason, and it was more than a little disappointing. He said he couldn't get away from work, but he was taking precautions, and he'd touch base with him tomorrow.

  He'd really hoped they could all get together.

  Savannah came out of the bathroom. She gave him a pointed look. "Really?"

  "I had to check my texts. Mason isn't coming."

  "Well, there's still Hank."

  "I hope he makes it. I'm going to text him just to make sure. Otherwise, we really don't need to race back to DC."

  "Good point."

  He sent off a quick text. "I'll just leave the phone on for another minute. I want to throw some clothes into a bag." He grabbed a duffel bag out of his closet and threw in some clothes in case he didn't get back for
a few days.

  As he finished with that, his phone started vibrating, and he saw Hank's number. "Damn. It's Hank. This doesn't seem like a good sign." He took the call. "Hello? Hank?"

  To his surprise, a woman answered. "This is Brenda," she said, her voice kind of choked up. "I'm Hank's girlfriend. I have some really bad news."

  His gut tightened. "What happened?"

  "Hank went for a run this afternoon, and he was hit by a car."

  "Is he all right?" He sank down on the bed, very afraid of her answer.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "He—Hank didn't make it," Brenda stuttered.

  "What?" Ryker demanded. "What do you mean?" He didn't want to believe what she'd said, but he already knew it was true.

  "Hank died on the way to the hospital. The nurse gave me his phone. When I saw your text, I thought I should tell you so you didn't come to your meeting. But I don't even know who you are."

  "I served with Hank in the army."

  "Oh, that makes sense. I'm sorry I didn't know. We've only been dating a few months and he's not a big talker about his army days. I can't believe he's gone. I think we could have been something, but now I'll never know." At the end of her sentence, Brenda started to cry. "I—I have to go."

  "Wait," he said sharply. "Where did it happen?"

  "Larimer Park. I can't talk anymore. It's too much. I'm sorry."

  The connection ended, and he felt an overwhelming sense of rage. He picked up the phone and threw it against the wall. "Hank is dead."

  Savannah stared back at him with concern. "What happened?"

  "He went for a run and was hit by a car. Sounds like what almost happened to us."

  "Who was on the phone?"

  "A woman named Brenda. She said she's his girlfriend. Dammit! I should have stayed with Hank. I should have insisted we meet earlier."

  "You tried. I was there. He barely wanted to meet you tonight."

  "What about Mason? He could be next."

  "Call him," she said, walking over to grab his phone from the floor. "Tell him what happened."

  He punched in Mason's number. It went to voice mail after the fourth ring. "No answer," he said tersely.

  "He said he was working late."