Killjoy

"Drop it, Noah."

"Hey, I'm just here to do Theo a favor," he explained. "Don't take your frustrations out on me." The fact was, he liked John

Paul, and he respected him. Maybe even admired him a little because he'd had the guts to walk away from a job that usually

broke a man.

Avery had gone into the kitchen to get a cold soda for Noah. She stopped in the kitchen doorway. The men had returned to

the porch, and she couldn't hear what they were saying. She put the bottle back in the refrigerator and decided to pack her bag.

She heard a couple of crude and colorful expletives; then she heard laughter. They're nuts, she thought as she went into the bedroom and shut the door. The bed looked as though acrobats had practiced their act on it. She quickly stripped the sheets,

put on fresh ones, and dropped the soiled linens in the hamper.

There wasn't much to pack. She changed into her khaki pants and searched through her bag for her pink blouse. The clothes

the woman at the police station had taken home to launder for her were folded neatly on the side of the duffel bag.

It was such a sweet thing to do, washing her clothes. When this was over, she would have so many people to thank for their kindness. She'd have to do something especially nice for the police chief. Letting them use his cabin was above and beyond his duty.

She went into the bathroom to collect her toiletries. Glancing in the mirror, she was startled at how tired and pale she looked. She put on a little makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes, added some blush and tinted pink lip gloss. Then she brushed her hair, gathered up her toothbrush and toothpaste, and put them in her makeup bag. She tossed John Paul's toothbrush on top.

She was ready to go when John Paul walked into the bedroom. He shut the door, leaned against it, and looked at her.

After she'd finished zipping her bag, she stood, then nervously brushed her hands against her slacks, as though she were trying

to iron any wrinkles out.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't want to leave." He was looking at the bed when he made the comment.

"I don't either," she admitted.

"Come here." His voice was low and urgent.

She didn't hesitate. She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

When at last they drew apart, there were tears in her eyes. She had never felt this kind of desperation before, and it was so wrenching, so heartbreaking she was afraid she would break down and sob.

How had she allowed herself to become so vulnerable? Love wasn't supposed to happen this quickly, was it? Why hadn't she protected herself? Love sucks, she decided then. All those stupid songs about how wonderful it was. All she felt was pain and fear, fear that something would happen to him. Damn it, she would not love him.

"You should go home," she said. She stepped back, nodded, and then repeated her decision, but this time she was more forceful.

"I mean it. I want you to go home."

"Why?"

He had asked an obvious question, but she gave him an obscure answer. "You just should. I can drive myself to Florida. I don't need you or Noah to babysit me."

The more she explained, the more forceful her voice became. John Paul reacted to her outburst by simply grabbing his bag, dropping it on the bed, and then begi

Noah was standing at the kitchen counter, drinking from a milk carton. He'd made himself a huge sandwich and was polishing

it off as she carried her backpack to the door. John Paul was right behind her with her duffel bag and his.

"Let's go," he called to Noah.

"I'm right behind you."

She followed John Paul to the car. He opened the driver's door, popped the lid on the trunk; then, pausing to glare at her, he

tossed their bags inside and slammed the trunk down.

"John Paul, I meant…"

He shook his head. "Don't."

"Don't what?" she asked.

"Don't insult me again. I told you at least three times I was in this for the long haul. Weren't you listening?"

She glanced at the door to make sure Noah wasn't there, then said, "I don't want you to get hurt. Okay? I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you… I don't think I could…"

"I love you too, Avery."

"It's too soon… you can't…"

"I do."

"How can you love me?" she whispered.

His left hand cupped the back of her neck, and as he slowly drew her toward him, he whispered, "Want me to count the ways?"

Tears stung her eyes. He wasn't going to be reasonable. "You're stubborn."

"So are you."

"It won't work."

"We'll make it work."

"I'm a liberal," she whispered in desperation.

He kissed her and then said, "I can live with that, but I can't live without you. Simple as that, sugar."

His wonderful mouth covered hers in a long, hot, thoroughly arousing kiss. He didn't overpower her with his strength, didn't

have her chained to him. No, he was being extremely gentle as his mouth slanted over hers. She could have pulled back, but

she didn't want to. She greedily kissed him back.

He growled low in his throat, which only encouraged her to be bolder. And when at last he lifted his head, she sagged against

him. She pushed away from him when the screen door opened.

Noah walked out onto the porch, pulled the door closed, and then tossed the keys to John Paul.

"You drive while I catch up on some sleep."

He caught the keys without taking his gaze off Avery. "You're go

"No, I can't marry you."

"Did I ask?"

"You just said…"

"Did I ask?" he patiently repeated.

Noah glanced at both of them, shook his head, and then dove into the backseat. "Lover's spat?" he asked.

"No." They both snapped the word at the same time.

She grabbed the keys out of John Paul's hand. "I'm driving."

He didn't argue with her. The dynamics between the two fascinated Noah. Who would have thought the bear would ever fall?

He guessed the old saying was true. There really was someone out there for everyone. A soul mate. Wait until he told Theo

about this. He wouldn't believe it either. The bear was in love.

He couldn't suppress his laughter. "What the hell's so fu

"You. You're fu

John Paul tilted his seat back and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long, long trip.

Chapter 33

The plans kept changing. Carrie didn't like change, any kind of change, unless, of course, she was the one in charge of making those changes. Agent Hillman was point man, and Agent Bean was his gofer. Hillman's first command when he was placed in charge of Carrie was to order Bean to tell her the decision had been made to keep her in Colorado.

After Bean informed Mrs. Salvetti of the Bureau's decision and suffered her reaction, he returned to Agent Hillman and threatened to hand in his resignation if Hillman ever made him do that again.

"I'm putting in for combat pay," Bean a

They could both hear Carrie screaming from the waiting room. "Doesn't she realize there are sick people in this hospital?"

Hillman muttered, clearly appalled by the woman's conduct.

"She doesn't care," Bean countered. "She's demanding to go to Florida and stay in the safe house with her niece."

"I take it, then, you didn't tell her we can't find her niece?"

"No, sir. I thought I'd let you explain that to her."

"For God's sake, man. You're an agent with the FBI. Surely you can handle a cranky woman."

"With all due respect, sir, she isn't just a cranky woman. She's a…"

"A what?" Hillman snapped.

A she-devil, Bean wanted to say but didn't dare. Hillman wouldn't believe him. Besides, he would find out soon enough what