He plopped down beside her, relieved as hell. She was off for another week. With any luck, he’d have this wrapped up pronto. After that . . . well, he’d have to decide what came next. Somehow, he didn’t picture wanting to walk away from her. Which meant that someday he was going to have to come clean about his lies and pray she didn’t hate him.

Plucking the toast off the plate, he took a bite and washed it down with juice. The shit wasn’t half bad. Nice to know he hadn’t poisoned her with his lousy cooking.

He hoped his next lie went over half as well . . .

“Well, as soon as I move my stuff from the Santiagos’s place into a motel, I’ll come back and take you to dinner. How’s that?”

“Sure.” She frowned. “Why aren’t you going to stay with your friends?”

“They’re newlyweds, and I’m in their way. I need to find a place of my own since it looks like they might put roots down here for a while. While I look, there’s a motel down the road . . .” He rattled off the name of a flea-infested, rent-by-the-hour place he’d passed a few times.

Rachel looked appropriately horrified. “That’s murder central. I haven’t been in Lafayette that long, but it’s mentioned all the time on the news. Lots of body bags.”

“Really?” He shrugged. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“Why not somewhere else? There are much better places . . .”

“If there’s a bed and a shower, that’s all that matters to me. It’s just for a few days, tops.”

Biting her lip, Rachel looked at him uncertainly. “Why don’t you stay with me until then? No pressure,” she blurted. “I’ll understand if you say no. You might feel awkward, but—”

“I’d like that. If you’re going to be free, I want to be here with you. I like waking up next to you, beautiful.”

She’d taken the bait well. Now, he could settle in and investigate. If he had to wait out this fucker for a few days, he didn’t have to let her out of his sight. It was perfect.

Rachel took his hand. “That settles it, then. Do you need to grab anything from the Santiagos’s place?”

“Yeah. It won’t take long. I’ll take you to lunch . . . then we can see about working off all those brownie points.”

And somewhere in the middle of that, he was going to have to figure out a plan of attack. It wasn’t acceptable that he didn’t know who was trying to kill his woman. Decker meant to solve that fast.

• • •

AN HOUR LATER, they’d finished their meager breakfast, showered, then straddled the back of his motorcycle. Rachel had been adorably anxious about riding one. Apparently, he’d be responsible for another first for her. That made Decker smile.

She’d relaxed quickly, learned to lean into the turns with him gently, and stay fluid the rest of the time. It felt right having her behind him with her arms wrapped around his middle and her cheek between his shoulder blades.

It didn’t take too long to cross town on a lazy Sunday before noon. The new day was still in its golden infancy, shining through the branches of the green trees that Decker suspected would soon lose their leaves to the coming winter. Though the town’s population was well over 100,000 people, it functioned a lot like a small town. It was both typically Southern and possessed an interesting, laid-back charm.

Rachel seemed at home here, too.

Wondering where the hell his head was when it should be on the fucker who wanted her dead, he focused, coming up with a rough plan as the bike ate up the couple of miles of road to his destination.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the sprawling house the Santiagos were renting until their own was built. He had a key for security purposes, and his stuff was in the guesthouse out back, but for this ruse to fly, he needed to put on a show. And he needed the guys to play along.

As he stepped off the bike, Rachel did the same, tugging off his helmet and trying to finger-comb her hair back into something less tangled. While that occupied her, he surreptitiously pulled his phone from his pocket and sent Xander a quick text.

Here. Play along. Got plan.

Then he headed for the door. Halfway up the stairs, Xander sent a reply text with his agreement. Then Decker was ringing the doorbell. To his surprise, it wasn’t his longtime boss and friend who opened the door, but the wife he shared with his brother. London smiled and glowed, pale hair framing her angelic face, her plump cheeks rosy. She wore a loose-fitting blue cotton shirt that hid any baby bump she might have and matching polka-dotted pajama pants. He was pretty sure that was the most clothing London had worn in the house since their wedding.

“Morning, Decker. Come in,” she greeted warmly.

He hesitated in the doorway. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“That was earlier, when you called, asshole,” Xander quipped as he approached, wearing hastily donned jeans and a collared shirt inside out. Standing behind London, he planted a kiss on the back of her neck.

“Stop giving him a hard time and let him in,” Javier called, suddenly coming around the hall from the bedroom and stepping into view. The elder brother wore a gray bathrobe and probably not a damn stitch more. A morning shadow covered his lean cheeks and cleft chin, but no missing the relaxed mien full of lazy satiation. “He didn’t actually come by while we were busy, so give him credit for that.”

Decker smiled. This couldn’t be more perfect if he’d scripted it.

When London and Xander stepped back, Decker entered, holding Rachel’s hand and bringing her with him into the airy, barrel-ceilinged foyer of the elaborate house.

As the door shut behind them, Decker grinned. “Thanks for getting out of bed for me. I’m going to get my things and vacate, like I promised.” He tugged on Rachel’s arm and brought her to his side. “Gang, this is Rachel Linden.”

The Santiago brothers both said a polite hello and shook her hand. London stepped forward with a smile and wrapped her arms around Rachel. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m a hugger.”

Sweet as always, Rachel hugged back. “Not at all. Me, too. It’s great to meet you.”

“Likewise. Have you lived here long?”

“Just a few months.”

London gave a little squeal. “Same here. We should have lunch soon and talk about places to shop. I’m still making friends in town. I’ve only got a few, and I’d like to get out before I get too big with the baby . . .”

“You need others besides us, little one?” Javier murmured in her ear, teasing. “I’m hurt.”

“You’re not very good at girl talk, Javi.” She tsked. “Xander is even worse.”

Javier looked displeased. “I don’t know whether to be happy that you think I’m better than Xander at anything or annoyed that you find me a better representation of female companionship.”

“Blow it out your ass, brother.” Xander grinned, then turned back to Decker.

Everyone drifted to the living room. London sat in the middle of the sofa, and the brothers took their respective places on either side of her. Javier’s hand tousled their wife’s long, loose hair. Xander’s hand dropped to her thigh. Decker risked a glance at Rachel on the loveseat beside him. She looked both a bit shocked and envious, and it occurred to him that she deserved to feel as desired and adored as London. Could he fulfill that need for her?

“Coffee for either of you?” the blushing blonde asked, trying really hard not to be affected by her husbands’ touches and failing more than not.

“No, thanks,” Rachel replied.

“None for me,” seconded Decker. “We won’t stay long. I’ll just grab my things . . . Rachel has been kind enough to let me crash with her for a few days while I find a place of my own, so I won’t interrupt your newly wedded bliss anymore.”

London flushed, and when Xander laughed, she nudged her elbow right into his stomach. “We love having company . . .”

“You don’t have to be polite, belleza. It’s always nice to see you. It’s even nicer to see you leave so Javi and I can be naked with our wife,” Xander snickered.

Decker laughed. “You’re an asshole.”

Xander looked like he could care less.

Shaking his head, Decker turned to Rachel. “Will you be all right here if I gather my stuff? Shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure.” She sent him a reassuring smile.

He squeezed her hand, then rose, sending Xander a look. His pal followed. Decker heard the girls talking animatedly and glanced back to see Javier watching them with a doting expression. Rachel would be fine here. Unless the bastard who’d hired out her murder was watching her day and night, he would have no idea where she was. Javi would keep her safe.

“What the hell is going on?” Xander muttered in his ear.

“I gave her a sob story about being in your way and needing another place to hang for a few days so I could look for some digs of my own. I can’t think of another ruse that will keep me with her twenty-four/seven. I’m almost sure that Rachel’s ex-husband isn’t the one trying to off her. I think he’s too clueless to hire a killer. I’ve got no other suspects, and I don’t like the way any of this smells.”

Xander appeared to mull his words, then nodded. “I can see that. And she has no other enemies?”

“Not that she knows of, according to her.”

“Think she’s being dishonest?”

They reached the guesthouse out back that Decker had been using, and he started gathering his toiletries from the granite vanity and shoving them into his duffel. “No. She can’t lie worth a damn.”

“Then she’s not paying attention?”

“More like she could never imagine that.” Decker gathered a pair of jeans and a jacket from the back of the chair in the corner and tossed them into his bag. “She gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. Her ex was a douche bag of massive proportions to her for years, and she still tried to make excuses for him and see his best. She’s really . . . fucking sweet.”

“You like this girl.” Xander cocked his head and stared, looking oddly gratified by his observation.

Decker looked down and focused on his duffel’s zipper, then paused. Why deny it? “Yeah. The first time I saw her picture, it was like an uppercut to the stomach. She just manages to tug at me in a way I don’t understand.”

“Ever been in love?”

“No.”

“That’s why you don’t understand it. Love is a sneaky bitch. One minute your life is normal. The next you’re mooning over a woman who’s just mowed you down, like some tornado you didn’t see coming. She’s suddenly the center of your thoughts, and you don’t know how it happened. It’s a short trip from there to her becoming the center of your universe.”

“I met Rachel less than eighteen hours ago.” But hadn’t he already been thinking about a future with her?

Xander shrugged. “I knew London about, oh, thirty minutes when I started to think she might be the one. Javi said it was about five minutes for him. There was just an instant click.”

That made sense to Decker now. Twenty-four hours ago, he would have thought Xander was insane. “Damn.”

“When you know, you just know. I’ve seen you with a lot of women—mostly bimbos—over the years. She’s not your usual speed. You seem more . . . settled around her.”

He scowled. “Just because you’re married doesn’t mean the rest of the world wants to be.”

“You’ve never been the kind to bury your head in the sand. Don’t start now.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Xander leaned into his face. “I’ve never seen you stick your neck out this far for anyone. I mean, I paid you for years to get me out of scrapes.”

“I’m damn good at it, too.”

“The best, which is why Javi and I hired you to help with the company’s security. But you wanting to protect Rachel, taking days and days to do it, practically moving in with her . . . I know damn well it’s not a platonic situation. In the past, you were always a blow-and-go kind of guy. Once the orgasm was over, you were pretty much done and gone.”

How was that for an unvarnished truth? Pretty exact. Decker had gone through most of his life not making too many connections or calling anyplace home. The curse of the military brat. It had carried over into adulthood. But now, he had the oddest desire to plant roots and grow them. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. No, that wasn’t it. Being with Rachel appealed to him, even more than he would have thought. What if he made her his, had someone to come home to every day, got married and started a family?

Decker didn’t hate the idea. And that just about floored him.

“Maybe . . . things have changed,” he acknowledged.