Groom Under Fire

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“There isn’t much to tell you,” she said, especially when it came to exes. “I haven’t really dated much.” Because of the threats. And maybe because of him, but she didn’t want him to suspect that she’d hung on to an old crush. “I’ve been too busy with work.”

“How long have you been a social worker?” he asked. “Since you graduated college? You must have handled a lot of cases.”

She sighed as faces jumbled in her mind. “A lot,” she agreed, “but none recently. At least not personally. I became a supervisor four years ago. I delegate now.” Which meant giving too much work to too few employees.

“Now,” he said. “But four years ago there must have been cases you handled that hadn’t gone well.”

She flinched, remembering the losses. The people she hadn’t been able to help. If she had Grandfather’s money, she could do so much more than she was able to do now. “Of course there were cases that went badly. Children I had to remove from neglectful or abusive parents.” She shuddered at the painful memories. “But that was years ago...”

“Some people have a hard time forgiving the person they perceive tore their family apart,” he said with a glance out toward the street. “Mom says Logan has never missed a parole hearing for the man who shot my father. He’s determined to make sure that the guy never gets out of prison—at least not alive.”

“What about you?” she asked. He had never talked about his father’s death before, but back then it had been too recent and probably too painful for a teenage boy to process let alone express.

“What about me?” he asked as if his feelings didn’t matter. “I haven’t been here for any of the parole hearings.” And maybe that was why he thought his feelings didn’t matter—because he had been gone so long. He had left his family.

And her. But they’d only just been friends, high school friends who often drifted apart after graduation. She hadn’t really meant anything to him. But she knew that his family had meant everything to him.

“If you had been here, would you have gone to those hearings?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s best to leave the past in the past.”

She and Stephen were his past.

“But most people don’t feel that way,” he continued. He passed her a legal pad and a pen. “Write down the names of the guys you’ve dated. And write down any cases you remember where someone might be holding a grudge against you.”

“I really can’t,” she protested. “There are privacy laws I have to obey.”

“What about Stephen?”

He was her best friend. And he was missing. If there was any chance of getting him back, her pride and her job could be damned. So she wrote down some names.

“He knew,” she said, finally defending herself from his earlier comment. “Stephen knew about the threats.”

Cooper sucked in a breath. “And he wanted to marry you anyway? He must love you a lot.”

As a friend. But if she told Cooper that, he would think the same thing her sister did—that she was just using Stephen to get her inheritance.

“I love him a lot, too,” she said. But only as a friend.

Cooper’s jaw went rigid again, as if he was clenching it. He nodded. “Stephen’s a good man. And a lawyer. Your grandfather would have approved.”

Probably, but only until she’d given away all his ruthlessly earned money.

“We have to find him,” she said. And she couldn’t rely on an overworked police department. “I really can’t afford Payne Protection—not until I get my inheritance. But I want to hire your family.” They specialized in security, working mainly as bodyguards, but Logan and Parker were both former police officers. And Cooper was...Cooper. The kind of man who stopped a speeding car from barreling over a woman.

Had she even thanked him? She couldn’t remember now; it had all been such a blur of terror and disbelief and then relief.

His brow furrowed with confusion. “We’re already on the job. Why do you think I showed up at the church in the first place?”

She had been so upset over finding the blood in the empty groom’s quarters that she hadn’t given it much thought then. “I don’t know...maybe you had changed your mind about being Stephen’s best man.”

But that wasn’t the case. She already knew that from when she’d eavesdropped outside the bride’s room. He had been pretty clear that he’d wanted no part of his mother’s manipulations. Why had the wedding planner been so intent on getting Cooper to attend the ceremony? It wasn’t as if he would have stood up and protested their union—at least not to claim her as his bride. Definitely not to claim her as his bride...

“I wish I had agreed to be his best man,” Cooper admitted. “Then I would have been there...”

Her heart lurched. “And you could have been hurt, too.” Or worse...

Just as his brother had said while they’d waited for him to make sure her apartment was safe, he reminded her, “I can take care of myself.”

Cooper wouldn’t have gone anywhere willingly. Not that Stephen had. Poor Stephen...

“And I can take care of you, too,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

He had already proven that—when he’d stopped a speeding car.

“That’s why I showed up at the church,” he said. He scooped up some of the shriveled petals that had fallen from the black roses. “Mom took the delivery of these and knew something was wrong.”

“I’m sorry I brought your mother into this,” she said, suspecting that could have been the reason for some of his anger earlier. “I thought those threats were empty. I didn’t believe anyone would actually act on them.” Or she would have never agreed to marry her best friend. “I’ve been getting them for years...”

“How many years?” he asked.

She sighed and replied, “Ten years.”

“Around the time your grandfather died?”

Cooper remembered when Grandfather had died? He had been deployed at the time; he must have had greater concerns on his mind than her loss—such as it had been. Benedict Bradford had never been a very warm or loving man.

“Yes,” she replied. “I didn’t get them all that often—only when I started seriously seeing someone.”

“Someone sure didn’t want you collecting your inheritance,” he mused, staring down at the box of threats.

She sighed again. “They got what they wanted.” And they’d gotten Stephen, too. Would they give him back...without the money?

Her stomach churned with dread and worry that they wouldn’t, that she might never see her dear friend again. And the tears she’d been fighting back for so long rushed up with such force that they burst out. She couldn’t hold back the sobs while tears streamed from her eyes.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. And a big hand gently patted her hair. “No, they haven’t gotten what they wanted.”

She shook her head, and his fingers slipped through her hair and skimmed down her neck. A rush of heat stemmed her tears. “There’re only a few days before my thirtieth birthday. I hope we find Stephen before then.” She doubted that they would, though. “But even if we do, I can’t put him at risk again. I can’t marry Stephen.”

“You’re not going to marry Stephen,” he agreed.

Because her groom was missing...

What if he was already dead? Her heart beat heavily with anguish. And more tears trickled out, sliding down her cheeks.

Cooper wiped them away with his thumbs. “You’re going to marry me.”

Her heart rate quickened to a frantic pace. She gazed up at him in disbelief. “What? You didn’t agree to that.”

“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’m going to be your groom. You’re still getting married tomorrow.”

Maybe Rochelle’s slaps had hit her hard enough to addle her brain. She couldn’t understand what he was saying. What he meant...

Maybe it was because he was too close, his arms around her—his heart pounding hard against hers. And he was leaning down, his head so close that she could see tiny black flecks in the bright blue of his eyes. She could see the shadow of his lashes on his cheeks and the stubble that was already darkening his jaw.

She wanted to reach up and run her fingers over that stubble, up his chin to his lips. All these years later she still remembered how they felt—silky but firm. But she didn’t want to just touch his lips; she wanted to kiss them. The urge was so great that she rose on tiptoe.

But before she could close the slight distance between their mouths, she jerked out of his arms. She couldn’t be having these thoughts—these desires for Cooper. She needed air to clear her head, so she moved toward the big arched window that looked out onto the street below. But before she could lift the bottom pane, the glass shattered.

Gunshots echoed.

And she was falling to the ground, pushed down as more gunshots rang out. Pain radiated throughout her body and she wondered if it was already too late.

Would she live to see her wedding day?

Chapter Five

Glass showered down over them, nicking Cooper’s face and the back of his neck. Too bad he still had his military brush cut. Blood trickled from his nape over his throat.

He needed to jump up and return gunfire. But that would mean leaving Tanya unprotected. And he couldn’t do that. Again. He covered her body with his, pressing her into the hardwood floor.

Since the shooter on the street wouldn’t be able to hear them, he leaned his face close to her ear and whispered, “Are you okay?”

She shivered, trembling beneath him. But she didn’t speak. Maybe she was worried that the shooter could hear them.

But the gunfire had stopped. Maybe the assailant was just reloading. Or maybe he had gone.

“Tanya, are you okay?” he asked again.

Her breath shuddered out in a ragged sigh. She must have been holding it, and she murmured, “I think so...”

But he heard the doubt in her voice and eased up so she could roll over and face him. “Were you hit?” he asked. He ran his hands down her sides, checking for wounds. Just for wounds...

But he found soft curves and lean muscles instead. Heat tingled in his hands and in other parts of his body. A few minutes ago, he’d thought she was going to kiss him. Their mouths had been only a breath apart, but maybe that was because he’d leaned down—because he’d wanted to kiss her so badly his gut had clenched.

The woman got to him as no one else ever had. And that made her dangerous—almost as dangerous as the shooter.

She squirmed beneath him. Apparently she was still as ticklish as when they’d been kids. He used to tickle her then—just as an excuse to touch her.

But he’d had a reason to touch her this time. “Are you hurt?” he asked again.

When his hand skimmed over her rib cage, she sucked in a breath. “Just sore,” she murmured, “from my fall.”

She’d fallen twice. Once in the church when her sister had attacked her and again when the car had nearly run her down. Actually, three times since he’d shoved her to the floor—which was unyielding hardwood.

He wasn’t doing the greatest job protecting her. Maybe Logan had been right and he wasn’t ready yet for a field job. But he couldn’t imagine anyone else protecting her. Or marrying her.

She lifted her hand and skimmed her fingers over his throat, making his pulse leap even more wildly. And her eyes widened with shock and horror. “You’re bleeding! You’ve been hit! We need to call an ambulance!”

He brushed away the trickle of blood. “It’s just a scratch from the flying glass.”

He brushed some of those glass fragments from her silky blond hair and his fingertips tingled. He didn’t even notice the bite of the glass. All he noticed was the fresh flowery scent of her and the soft feel of her. She was so close. He only needed to lean down a few inches to close the distance between them and press his lips to hers.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. But he wasn’t. He was tempted to kiss his best friend’s bride while the man was missing. But hell, Cooper was the one who was going to marry her. Tomorrow. He drew in a deep breath to steady his racing pulse. “We should call the police.”

“He’s gone?” she asked hopefully.

He wasn’t certain about that...even though he had heard the squeal of tires as a car sped away.

“We still need to call to report the shooting.” There could be shell casings recovered. Witnesses questioned that might be able to identify the shooter. He reached for his cell phone.

And then he heard the footsteps, the stairs creaking beneath the weight of the person stealthily climbing up to Tanya’s apartment. Maybe the shooter hadn’t sped off in the car with the squealing tires. Maybe he had come upstairs to make sure he’d killed his intended victim.

Cooper drew his weapon from the holster on his belt. He pointed the barrel at the door as he scrambled to his feet and helped up Tanya. He shoved her toward the only other room in the studio apartment. The bathroom.

“Get in the tub,” he ordered her in an urgent whisper. Where he’d been, grenades were routinely tossed in houses. Or machine-gun fire that cut through walls like scissors through paper. “And stay down.”

He didn’t know if she did as he told her because she closed that door. And another opened, slowly, the old hinges creaking in protest. His finger twitched on the trigger as he prepared to pull it, especially as the first thing that entered the apartment was the barrel of a gun.

He waited to get a target before he took his shot. But just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, the intruder stepped from the shadows and revealed himself.

“Damn it, Logan!” he cursed his brother. “I almost shot you!”

Logan holstered his gun and gestured toward the broken window. “Looks like you got a little trigger-happy already.”

Cooper begrudgingly admitted, “I didn’t fire my weapon.” Then he pointed toward the holes in the drywall ceiling. “The shooter was down on the street.”

Which had probably saved Tanya’s life and his, because the trajectory of the bullets had sent them tunneling into the ceiling instead of into their bodies.

Sirens blared and blue and red lights flashed, refracting off all the broken glass. “And now the police are down there,” Logan pointed out with a slight sigh of relief.

Either the landlord or a neighbor must have called them. Cooper hadn’t had the chance to dial yet. He’d been too distracted. Tanya had distracted him.

“Why are you here?” he asked his older brother, who was also now his boss. “You checking up on me?” He couldn’t blame him if he was. His first assignment with Payne Protection and he was already blowing it. First, he’d lost Stephen, and he’d nearly lost Tanya more than once.

“You said you were going to get some information for me,” Logan reminded him. “Tanya’s list of difficult cases and exes.”