His Callahan Bride's Baby. Tina Leonard
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She might be taking Jillian’s advice, but this little lady liked him. He could feel it.
“Didn’t you agree not to date me?”
He smiled. “I said I wouldn’t ask you to marry me. Dating’s optional.”
“I see.” She considered that. “Where are you taking me?”
He reeled her in slowly. Taylor wasn’t the average girl who’d be satisfied with a regular evening of food and awkward chat. “Ghost-busting.”
She blinked. Hesitated.
He had her.
“Okay,” she said. “But I can’t be gone long. Maybe just an hour or two. I’m pretty sure we’re not operating in the spirit of Jillian’s challenge. You might be cheating.”
He opened the truck door for her. “Might be. We’ll see.”
“It doesn’t surprise me you’d bend the rules, to be honest, Falcon.”
“Good guys finish last, they say.” Sometimes that was true. Most times it wasn’t. He was a good guy who intended to finish first, just as he always had. He drove for about twenty minutes, then turned down a deserted, dark road toward the canyons.
Taylor peered out the window. “So what are we really doing? Ghost-busting doesn’t sound like your thing.”
He smiled. “One thing you should know about me is that I never lie. We truly are looking for ghosts.”
“There are no such things.”
“Oh, Taylor. We’re going to have to work on your appreciation for spirits.”
She sighed. “I hope I don’t regret doing this.”
“What’s life without a few regrets?” He stopped the truck several feet back from a narrow gorge he knew well. “Helps you appreciate life when you get it right.”
“Whatever, cowboy. Let’s go find this apparition of yours. It’s dark enough for one to appear.” She hopped out of the truck. “Not that I think you’re doing anything but dragging me out here because you didn’t want to go alone.”
“Is there anything wrong with wanting a woman’s touch on a ghost hunt? I heard paranormal phenomena are much more sensitive to a female presence. Or it could be that females just have better imaginations.” He laughed at the eye-roll she performed for his benefit.
“All that time you sat at the bar watching me I never would have dreamed you have the soul of a romantic. Or something. So what game are you really up to?”
He took her arm. “Walking my romantic soul. Giving it a chance to breathe.” Taking her in his arms, he kissed her on the lips, intending for it to be a quick one. But he found himself caught into lingering at the softness he encountered.
Kissing Taylor was so much more amazing than how he’d imagined it might feel that he didn’t want to stop.
He pulled himself away with effort as Taylor stepped back.
“Is your soul done breathing?” she asked.
“For the moment.” Falcon grinned, switched on a flashlight and pointed it on the ground. “Watch your step.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can stand the suspense,” Taylor said. “It’s well known in Diablo that you and your brothers and your sister, and all the Callahans, are pretty much one step from... Did you hear that?”
Falcon stopped beside her, swinging the flashlight toward the slight scuffling noise. “Probably just an owl.”
“Owls don’t land on the ground near people,” Taylor said. “It’s not really their desired activity.”
“Okay, Nancy Drew. I was just trying to keep you from being scared.”
“I’m not scared. I think you dragged me out here just to kiss me.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Stating a fact.”
“Fact noted.” Beneath the banter, Falcon’s radar was up. Taylor fell silent beside him, and he put a hand out to keep her near. He was packing a semi in his waistband so was prepared for anything, but the sound had been almost too deliberate to ignore.
It was like something was out there, following them. Years in the military had taught him caution, and he knew with sudden prescience that things weren’t right.
“Where are we going, anyway?”
“I was going to show you the top of a cliff,” Falcon said. “It’s a full moon, and on a night like this you can see sky for miles from atop that cliff. You can see—”
His words broke off. “Falcon?” Taylor didn’t move, her body suddenly tense. “Falcon?”
He’d been at her side a second ago, almost annoyingly overprotective. Now she couldn’t feel him. It was as if he’d disappeared. There was no sound except the slight soughing of wind through the canyons. The flashlight was on the ground, pointing its beam toward black nothingness. Taylor picked it up and switched it off. She stayed completely still, listening.
There were three obvious scenarios here. Taylor considered her options. One, Falcon had brought her out here on a lark to give her a good scare, so she’d jump into his arms when he “rescued” her.
Fat chance. She wasn’t falling for that.
Two, he’d stepped into a crevasse of some kind, which had happened around here. Caves abounded in this area, and it was possible he’d simply disappeared into some hole—or they were nearer a canyon than he’d realized. But she’d have heard noise if he’d rolled down a gorge.
She discarded that notion. If he’d fallen into something, they were both in trouble because he had his truck keys. And she had no idea where she was, so walking back was out of the question. No one knew where they were, so this could turn into a tricky situation.
Next scenario: someone or something had grabbed him. Again, entirely unlikely, as Taylor felt certain she’d have heard signs of a struggle. A man as big as Falcon couldn’t be easily dragged off in utter silence, and there would certainly be tracks.
Still, no matter what, she was in a less than desirable situation.
She could walk back to his truck and hope he hadn’t locked it. There’d been a rifle on the rack, and likely he had bullets close by. She was a proficient shot, so she’d at least be safe.
Taylor swung the flashlight around her one last time, peering at the ground, making certain she didn’t step into Falcon’s possible Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole—and that’s when she heard the definite sounds of all-out war.
She ran to the truck, grabbed the rifle, saw a box of ammo she gratefully snatched several bullets out of, and took