Finding Forever (Smoky Mountain Lawmen Book 1) (3 page)

“Do
you know how she met Andrew?”

Gemma
sucked her lower lip between her teeth and replayed their conversation.  “Yes. 
She said she met him in the hospital cafeteria.  That he’d been there visiting
a sick relative.”

“Did
she say when?”

“Just
that it was a few weeks ago.  She said they went for coffee a few times before
she agreed to dinner.” 

“Is
there anyone from her past who would have had a reason to hurt her?”

Gemma
shook her head.  “Just her ex-husband, but I don’t think it was him. She hasn’t
heard from him in years.  She put him jail for domestic violence several years
ago, but he’s been out awhile and doesn’t have any contact with them, good or
bad.”  Gemma’s mind whirled.  She could only imagine how, Diana’s mother,
Marcie, was going to react to Diana’s death.  When Diana had left her abusive
ex-husband, Marcie hadn’t hesitated to take in her daughter and grandson.  Diana
was Marcie’s only child and they had always been close.  Gemma didn’t think
that it had ever crossed either of their minds for Diana and Caleb to find a
place of their own since they’d moved in with Marcie.

Ben
rolled his glass between his fingers as he considered her words.  “Do you know
if she went anywhere new lately?”

Gemma
shook her head.  “Probably not.  Diana was a creature of habit and between her
job and her son she really didn’t have time to vary her routine much.”

“Was
there anything else out of the ordinary that she mentioned?”

Gemma
chewed on her lip and thought hard.  “No.  Not that she mentioned to me.  Her
mother might be able to think of something.  I’m sorry, Ben.  I wish I could be
of more help.”    

He
reached out to grab her hand.  The strong fingers helped anchor her emotions. 
“You’ve helped plenty.  We know who she is now, which we might not have until
her mother noticed she hadn’t returned from her conference.  Don’t blame
yourself.  I’m just glad you saw the picture.”

“So
where do we go from here?” Gemma asked, turning her hand to grip his.

“We
pick Diana’s life apart.  The answers are there.  We just have to find them.”

Ben
woke to bright light and the feel of something warm and soft draped over him. 
He opened his eyes slowly against the assault of sunshine pouring in from the
windows and had to take a moment to remember where he was.

North
Carolina.  Serial murder case.

The
identity of the warm weight on his chest finally registered. 
Tristan
Mabley’s alluring little sister
. 
Christ
.

The
early morning hours came flooding back to him.  After he had gotten as much out
of her as he could about her friend, he had sat with Gemma while they finished
their whiskey.  The alcohol had made them both sleepy despite the turmoil and
they’d lounged against the couch.  They must have fallen asleep, but how she
ended up draped across him he did not know. 

But
now that he was aware she was pressed against him he was also aware that he had
a desperate need to get out from under her before she awakened to find what her
warm, sleepy body was doing to his.  He had no idea how he was going to
accomplish that feat though.  Her head was pillowed on his chest, her full,
soft breasts crushed against his upper abdomen.  His legs scissored her lower
body and his hands rested on her hips while hers encircled his torso and hugged
him like a body pillow.

He
wrapped an arm around her waist and attempted to slide her off while he slid
out from under her, but she immediately tightened her arms around him and
grumbled sleepily.  Ben tried again only to get similar results.  He let loose
a sigh of defeat.  He was going to have to wake her.

He
brushed the chestnut waves of her hair away from her face.  His fingers curled
around the back of her head and he had to force himself to remember why he’d
touched her in the first place.  “Gemma.  Darlin’, wake up.”

She
grumbled again and Ben attempted to shift them both into a more upright
position.  “Gemma,” he tried again.

“It’s
too early,” she growled.  “Go back to sleep.”

His
fingers flexed in her hair.  That was such a tempting prospect.  “Gemma, as
comfortable as this is, I’d rather your brother not walk in and find us like
this.”

That
seemed to penetrate her sleepy mind.  She stretched against him like a cat and
Ben had to grit his teeth to keep from holding her tight to his body and doing
all the wicked things that ran through his mind.

He
could tell when she became aware that he was her bed and not what he was sure
was a very comfortable mattress in her bedroom.  She stiffened and her fingers
curled in his shirt.  She pushed up on her arms, hands against his chest, as
her eyes flew open.

“Oh
my God!”

Ben’s
hands flew to her waist to steady her as her sudden movement threatened to
topple her off the couch.  It also, unfortunately, put the fly of his jeans right
in line with her hips and held it there.  Those wicked thoughts in his head
screamed louder, wanting him to give them free rein.

Shit! 
He should not be feeling this way about this woman.  She was over a decade
younger than him and the forever type of girl.  He was not a forever type of
man.  His parents’ and siblings’ succession of marriages had taught him that
forever wasn’t something his family did.

Their
gazes collided.  Ben watched as her sapphire eyes darkened to a midnight blue. 
Desire shot through him in another fierce blast at her unconscious reaction to
him, making his already tight jeans tighter.  He gripped her waist as he fought
the urge to drag her down and see if she tasted as sweet as her personality.

She
saved him from himself though as she scrambled off of him and backed away from
the couch.  Ben sat up and swung his feet to the floor.  She mumbled something
about going to get dressed and then practically ran from the room. 

Ben
ran his hands through his hair and willed the ache in his pants away.  When he
was sure he could stand without walking funny he made his way to the kitchen in
search of coffee.  He needed a jolt to clear his head.

He
stopped short at the sight of Tristan leaning against the counter, arms crossed
as he sipped a mug of steaming coffee.  There was a hard glint in his eyes that
told Ben that Tristan had seen them on the couch.

Ben
reached for a mug from the cupboard near Tristan’s head, but Tristan’s free
hand shot out to land on Ben’s chest.  “Care to tell me why you were sound
asleep wrapped around my little sister like ivy on a tree?”

“We
fell asleep.”  Ben looked down pointedly at the hand resting on his chest.

Tristan
scoffed, his scowl still in place, but lowered his hand.  “And that explains
why your hands were splayed over her ass like you owned her how?”

Ben
suppressed the urge to deck the younger man.  He reminded himself that Tristan
was just looking out for Gemma’s welfare, but it still rankled that Tristan
would equate him with some sleaze out to cop a feel.

“We
did a lot of talking last night and fell asleep on the couch.  I have no idea
how she ended up on top of me.  She certainly didn’t start out that way.  End
of story,” Ben said, reaching for the coffee pot.  “She may have broken our
case wide open though.”

That
drew Tristan upright, his ire forgotten.  “What?” 

Ben
filled his mug and took a big gulp of the hot brew not caring as it scalded his
mouth.  He needed the pain to wash away the feel of Gemma’s supple body pressed
to his.  “I couldn’t sleep after you and Gemma went to bed, so I sat down at
the table to look over the file again, trying to jog some facts loose from what
I remembered of the other cases.  She heard me and got up.  She saw the close up
of our victim’s face and recognized her.  Her name’s Diana Lowell and her son
is one of your sister’s patients.”

“Shit.”

Ben’s
sentiments exactly.  He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like that Gemma was
involved in this case.  He had a bad feeling and he’d learned early on in his
military career never to ignore them.  It wasn’t often they were wrong.

Gemma
lingered over her morning routine as long as she dared.  She was not the type
to take forever getting ready and her brother knew it.  She also knew that he
knew she was an early riser.  If she didn’t surface soon, Tristan would come
looking for her and then demand answers as to why she was hiding out in her
room.  She swiped her damp palms on her light green capris and straightened her
spine.  So she’d fallen asleep on Agent Davidson—Ben.  It had been innocent
enough.  Especially after the night’s revelation.

But
there was nothing innocent about the way he made you feel or his body’s
reaction to you
, her conscience niggled.  Gemma shivered
as the memory of how his rock hard body had felt beneath hers came flooding
back.  The moment her gaze had collided with his she’d had the insane urge to
run her hands over the hard muscles beneath her hands and press her body back
down onto every inch of his.  She had scrambled off him before she could act on
that desire.  The man had at least ten years on her and he didn’t live anywhere
near her.  Lusting after him was the last thing she needed to be doing and her
body would do well to remember that.

Pep
talk done, Gemma exited her bedroom and wandered into the kitchen.  Both men
were seated at the table discussing their game plan for the day.  Ben had showered
and changed, his hair still slightly damp.  Her fingers itched to comb through
the spiky strands.   

Gemma
clenched her fists to keep from doing that very thing and pasted a smile on her
face in greeting.  She went to the fridge to pull out items to make omelets,
thankful for once that her brother couldn’t boil water without burning it.  It
gave her something to occupy her hands and took her mind off her growing
obsession with his former commander.  She still didn’t understand why she found
him so attractive.  She normally went for men more like Ted.  Effervescent,
good ole boy types.  Not polite, authoritative types. 

But
there was just something about him that called to her and her body was
responding with a hearty, “Here I am!” 

It
needed to quit. 

He
wasn’t staying around, not to mention she had a feeling he saw her as a bit of
a kid.  She was twenty-eight, but when he’d been entertained with all of
Tristan’s stories about her she’d been in her late teens and early twenties. 
She’d been even younger in many of the stories he had likely heard.

His
body didn’t see you as a kid though
, her conscience
countered.

Gemma’s
knife slipped off the onion she was chopping at the unbidden thought and she
nearly sliced her finger.  She clenched her teeth and took a deep breath, willing
the memories of his strong body beneath her into the furthest recesses of her
mind.  She needed to stop thinking about him if she wanted to keep all of her
fingers.

She
quickly finished making breakfast and doled out plates before sliding into a
seat next to Tristan.  As she sat down, Ben stated he was going to head to
Asheville to speak with Marcie Trent as soon as they were done with breakfast.

“I’m
coming with you,” Gemma declared.

Ben
frowned.  “What?”

“Absolutely
not,” Tristan declared.

Gemma
glared at her brother.  She was still peeved at him for the other day and was
not in the mood for his dictatorial tendencies today.  She turned her attention
to Ben.

“Caleb
is going to be a wreck once he knows or starts to suspect something bad
happened.  He’s going to pick up on Marcie’s emotional state once we tell her
and he needs someone there he knows while you talk to her.  You’re not going to
get much out of her otherwise.  She’s going to be too distracted trying to
soothe Caleb.  Besides, no one deserves to get that kind of news without some
support.  I’m coming with you,” she repeated.

Ben
stared at her silently as he weighed her words.

“Sir,
you can’t seriously be considering letting her—” Ben held up a hand to silence
the flow of words out of Tristan’s mouth.

He
turned to Tristan.  “First off, it’s Ben.  I’m no longer your commanding
officer and I’d like to think we’re friends.  Second, your sister is right. 
Mrs. Trent shouldn’t have to face that kind of news alone and that boy needs
all the friendly faces he can get right now.  Gemma not only knows the boy
well, she’s a trained therapist.  She goes with me.”

Gemma
couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face.  She tried valiantly to
smother it though as Ben turned his hard stare back to her.

“But
only
to comfort Caleb and Marcie.  You’re not investigating this with
me.”

Gemma
shook her head.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”  And she wouldn’t.  She was a
therapist.  She left the detecting to her brother.

“Good. 
Eat.  We need to get on the road.”

She
dutifully shoved eggs in her mouth.  She’d gotten what she wanted and wasn’t
going to argue.  She chanced a glance at her brother.  His posture was rigid
and she could tell he didn’t like Ben’s decision, but there was also a
speculative look in his eyes as he looked between her and Ben. 

Uh,
oh.  The cogs were turning and with Tristan that never boded well for her.

Had
he picked up on her attraction to Ben?

Had
Ben said something about falling asleep on the couch with her?

Gemma
immediately dismissed the latter thought.  She didn’t know Ben well, but she
knew he wouldn’t do something like that.  It was none of Tristan’s business
what went on between her and Ben and she sensed that Ben felt that way too.

So
why was Tristan looking at them like he was seeing something that intrigued
him?

Gemma
stared hard at the front door of Marcie Trent’s house through the windshield of
Ben’s SUV.  She’d tried very hard on the drive over here to keep her thoughts
off of what was about to happen.  She’d brooded over the couch debacle instead
and tried to pretend things weren’t awkward between her and Ben.  Now, though,
there was no avoiding what they’d come here to do.

“You
ready?” Ben asked softly.

“No,”
Gemma said quickly, but opened her car door anyway.  “But I’ll never be, so
let’s just go.”

Ben
followed her to the door and rang the bell.

The
door swung open to reveal a woman in her mid-fifties, dressed in jeans and a
t-shirt; her gray-streaked, ash blond hair pulled away from her face in a messy
top knot.  “Gemma?  What are you doing here?” Marcie asked.

Gemma
sucked in a breath.  She felt Ben’s hand rest on her back and was thankful for
the show of support.  “Marcie, this is Special Agent Ben Davidson with the
FBI.  We need to talk to you.  May we come in?”

Confusion
and fear ran across the woman’s features as she opened the door wider.  “Of
course.”

Gemma
looked around for signs of Caleb, but saw none.  “Marcie, where is Caleb?”
Gemma asked as Marcie led them into the living room.