Chapter Seventeen

I vy hovered over Livia, her brows rumpled with worry. She pulled the edges of the blanket around Livia's shoulders, fussing over her.

"Can I get you anything to drink, hon?"

Livia shook her head. She knew she was frightening her friend—and everyone else, for that matter. Even Sean Gracey sat at the kitchen table with an untouched coffee in front of him, throwing looks her direction every so often but not speaking to the others who came in and out of the house.

The strange bond she had formed with the rancher was unexpected.

Or maybe it wasn't a bond at all. Maybe it was fear they shared.

She rested her head against the back of the leather sofa and closed her eyes. Images of Carver floated behind her closed lids. Those intense eyes that followed her everywhere. The way he moved with such purpose, his size and strength a threat without the need to ever open his mouth.

He was experienced at life in a way she wasn't. A way that made him distrust everyone. Now she saw she'd been so wrong to discount his warnings about the threats aimed at her.

Because of her, he was gone.

Colton stood in the kitchen with a couple guys, their voices low. They had just come in after searching for Carver all night.

And they'd returned emptyhanded.

Colton pushed away from the counter and approached the sofa with the tall unknown man right behind. He took a seat on the edge of the sofa cushion beside her. "Livia, this is Ledger. He's one of us."

The man dipped his head and perched on the arm of the leather chair flanking the sofa. "Hi, Livia."

She blinked at him, unable to conjure the will to speak. Chitchat was out of the question. Actually, everything made her want to scream.

Only, if she started, she didn't know if she could stop.

As if seeing this pass over her face, Ivy took a seat beside her and wrapped her arms around Livia, blanket and all.

She allowed her friend to offer this comfort, but there was no comfort in her heart. She knew Carver was dead.

"We handed over all the camera footage to the authorities." Colton's mouth was grim.

"They've got every cop in three states on the hunt for Smythe." Ledger spoke with a slight Southern drawl. While his voice was calm, his mannerisms revealed just how tense he was. His fingers were curled, and the tendon in his forearm leaped as he clenched his fist.

Colton went on, "Since we know he's taken off to Canada before, there are roadblocks set up on the border to stop him."

She found her voice, though it came faint and weak. "None of it matters. Carver is dead."

The men traded a look, and Ivy hugged Livia tighter.

"You can't think like that, Livia. You have to hold on to some hope."

She met Colton's gaze, then shifted it to Ledger. "Do you hold out hope? After what you saw on that camera footage?"

Colton attempted to maintain a serene expression, and she gave him a lot of credit for that. But to her, it was obvious that his friends believed he was dead too.

Ledger cleared his throat as if it took effort. "Wolfman is the best of the best. He's been trapped behind enemy lines before, and fought his way back to the team."

"It's true." Colton spread his hands. "He's one tough son of a bitch. I bet he never told you that he was a prisoner of war."

She lifted her head off Ivy's shoulder and stared at him. "No," she whispered.

Both men nodded. "It took two reconnaissance missions to get him back. If he can endure that, he can make it through this."

Her stomach rolled. Was it possible that those men hadn't killed him and dumped his body?

"What would Smythe want with Carver?" She tugged the blanket tighter around her chilled body.

"Leverage against the Gracey."

Saying that, Sean turned his head to look at them. She saw the struggle on his face.

While everyone probably thought he was an irresponsible asshole for getting in deep with the loan shark, she also saw the remorse in him. He was a weak man, but he was only human. Many people made mistakes in life, and while losing his wife and son were not excuses for what he'd done, she could understand how he came to this place in life.

He pushed back his chair quietly and stood.

"Dad!" Ivy called to his retreating back.

The men watched him go without comment. When a door closed somewhere in the house, Colton met Livia's stare once more.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the back door leading into the kitchen banged off the inner wall, and Hunter stomped toward them with Webb at his side.

He looked right at Livia. "The cops found your phone."

She straightened. "Where?"

"It was tossed out along a road. A jogger picked it up and turned it in to the police."

"Where is it?"

A red flush crawled up Hunter's neck. "The cops are searching for a number that called your phone about an hour ago."

She jerked to her feet. Until hands reached out to steady her, she didn't realize she was wavering. Her mind spun .

"Wh-what was the phone number?"

Hunter swept his gaze from her to Colton and then Ledger. "It was a sat phone."

Ledger shut his eyes and bowed his head. She wouldn't be shocked to learn he was saying a prayer of thanksgiving, but she wasn't ready to hold out that much hope yet.

She gripped the blanket so tightly, her fingers chilled. "How do we know it's him? It could be anyone. The supplier I use for sugar cane to make my rum. A spam caller."

Hunter shook his head. "We don't think so, Livia. We're going to head to the police department now and see if we can get a bead on a location."

She lifted her brows. "And then?"

They traded a look. "Then the reconnaissance mission. We go and find him…and bring him back where he belongs."

Livia's knees buckled, and she sat down hard on the floor, the blanket swirling around her. If it was true and Carver really was alive—and coming back to her—then she would be the happiest woman alive.

But now more than ever, she knew there could be nothing between them. What was the point in giving her heart to someone who could be ripped away from her so easily?

* * * * *

Carver sat on the edge of the table in the doctor's clinic, every muscle in him straining to leave.

He threw Colton a warning look so his brother knew exactly where he stood on the guys forcing him to make a stop and have his wounds seen to.

"I don't need medical attention." He growled this for the third time since they dragged him into the building. "I need to get back to Livia."

"And you will, man." Colton nodded. "But you don't want her to see you like that." He inclined his head toward the raw, bloody mess of his wrists.

"It's self-inflicted. I'm fine."

Hunter leaned against the wall feet away. He acted casual, but at any moment, he could block the door leading out of here and keep Carver inside.

He can try.

He let out a low groan of annoyance. "If it were any of you assholes, you'd be fighting your way to your women."

"Livia thought you were dead. She's fragile. We're just trying to protect her."

At Hunter's words, Carver dropped his head. The agony of what he'd put her through slashed through his chest. Once he had her safe in his arms, he would spend every minute for the rest of his life making it up to her."

Ledger pulled a sterile glove out of a box on the wall and put it to his lips. When he blew it up, the action distracted all three of them from what really was going on.

"Goddamn, it's good to be back in your company." Carver met Ledger's gaze. The two of them had been through some shit. Seen even worse. At the end, they had been alone in a room with a dozen bodies it was their job to identify.

As if he was thinking the same thing, Ledger looked away. Carver noticed he'd been doing that a lot, even before they took leave of each other months ago. It was a new habit Ledger had picked up, probably an avoidance tactic.

Carver compartmentalized. Ledger avoided.

He was about to leap out that window and make a run for the Gracey Ranch, but just then the young doctor entered. She took one look at the SEALs in that small room and stopped.

They got that a lot, especially when there were two or more of them together in one place. They were big and their muscles drew a lot of attention. Back in the old days, they'd use this to their advantage to sleep with all the pretty girls they could on leave. Now the thought of touching anyone but Livia turned his stomach.

Ledger gave her an appraising once-over.

Half an hour later, Carver was as patched up as he could be and seated in the front seat of the truck with Colton behind the wheel.

"Tell me. How bad was it for her?" His voice turned to gravel.

His friend shot him a look. "Bad enough."

"He beat her?"

"Just some bruising from when he dragged her into the office."

"Fuck!" He sliced his fingers through his hair. There was already blood on his hands, but before this was all said and done, there would be rivers of it. Starting with Smythe's.

"She was smart and made him believe she needed to look up the combination to the safe in her phone. That's when she pushed the panic button in the security app."

Guilt battered him worse than any fists ever could. "I should have been there for her. I should have saved her."

"You couldn't have stopped them from getting into the bar," Hunter said from the back seat of the truck. "They forced the back door open."

He whipped around. "We didn't hear anything."

"It looked like they broke in when the place was at its busiest. And the plumber was an added distraction."

He twisted and gave Hunter a flat look. "The fucking plumber worked for Smythe." The man might have even managed to unlock the door for his buddies.

Colton nodded.

He drove his balled fist into the dashboard. The loud cracking noise did nothing to alleviate the rage flooding into his veins. "I knew that fucker was acting sketchy! Goddammit, he was a decoy and I missed it!"

"We all missed a lot of things. Look at what happened to Marks. Do you think every one of us on the ranch isn't still kicking ourselves every day for missing that someone had cut partway through that ATV axle?" Hunter's words didn't settle Carver's fury, but he didn't have any more to say.

They were all in the thick of this—the guys had been in his position too, terrified that they were going to lose the thing they loved most. Their women.

He stared at the roads that were more familiar now that he'd been in Montana for a while. They were getting close to the Gracey.

In a few minutes, Livia would be in his arms where she belonged.

His insides burned, and he realized that he was jittery from nerves too. Would she accept him now that he'd failed her so badly? What if she pushed him away? He couldn't blame her, but that didn't mean he wouldn't keep fighting to keep her in his life.

Around him, talk turned to how Smythe was getting people past them. Colton and Hunter hashed it all out again, while Ledger drank in what they were saying.

Carver pushed out a grunt. "I want to help out more. I do. But I can't see how I can be in two places at once."

"We asked you to watch over Livia," Colton said.

"The least we can do is watch over her after she put herself on the line for Ivy." Hunter's quiet statement was banked with anger he still harbored after the woman he loved was attacked. Who could blame him?

Carver wanted to bash more faces in. Break all the necks. Until Livia was safe, he would never rest.

When Colton turned into the gates of the Gracey Ranch, Carver gripped the armrest, prepared to shove the door open and leap out the minute they stopped.

"This gravel road leading to the ranch is too damn long," he growled. "How's a man supposed to reach his woman at this rate?"

Colton glanced in the rearview mirror, probably trading a glance with one of the guys.

By the time they approached the garage, his jaw ached from gnashing his teeth. No sooner had Colton stopped the truck than he was out, long strides eating up the distance between himself and the house where he presumed Livia was.

Suddenly, the front door opened and she emerged, wrapped in a coat far too big for her. Her face was pale and her red hair was bright in the sunshine.

His heart jerked hard as if someone just kicked his chest. Slowing his steps, he searched her face for any sign of how she felt at seeing him again.

He walked up to her and stopped, afraid to touch her.

She stared down at the bandages on his wrists and then looked up at his face, a small gasp on her lips.

Just seeing that bruise on her face put there by that asshole at the bar made him want to kill. The incident seemed so long ago. It happened before the bathroom flood that kicked off the chain of events leading to them being torn apart.

Unlocking his fingers from a fist, he slowly raised his hand to stroke the crest of her cheek, near the bruise.

"Jesus, Livia. I'm so sorry—"

She surged onto tiptoe and cut off his words with a hard kiss. Her scent filled his head, and he let out a groan. Hooking an arm around her back, he pulled her tight against him.

Angling her head, she kissed him with all the passion he felt scorching through his body.

She clung to him, the groan in his throat moving up a notch to a primal growl. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him.

On instinct, he turned for the only place he could think where he could be alone with her for a reunion—the bunkhouse. He'd only spent a few hours there upon first arriving at the ranch, but they could be alone inside.

Still kissing her, drinking her in, he somehow made it to the door. She released her grip on his shoulders long enough to twist the handle, and they burst into the cool space.

Thankfully, all the guys were out working on the ranch.

When he nudged his way through a cracked door and lay Livia down on the bunk, he cursed how narrow it was for what he wanted to do to her…all…day…long.

Hovering over her, he stared deep into her eyes. "Thank god you're all right."

Her throat worked, and tears glistened in her eyes. "I thought you were dead."

"Didn't you get my call?"

"They took my phone and threw it out. Somebody found it and turned it in—that's when I heard that a call came from a satellite phone."

"Damn. I should have thought about that." He dropped his forehead against hers, battling emotions.

She cradled his jaw, bringing his lips back down to hers. The feel of her touch sent longing through him. Their kiss was a reunion—her body a homecoming.

As she tugged at his fly and drew his cock into her hand, there was no going slow. It was game on, as it always was between them.

In seconds, he had her stripped bare. She gripped his cock at the base and gave it a long, slow, maddening jack that shot tingles of electricity up his spine.

"I don't have a condom."

"I'm on birth control. And I trust you."

With a low rumble, he poised at her slick opening. In one hard shove, he filled her.

She screamed his name and bucked into his thrust, taking him to the root. The tight grip of her walls around him stole his sanity. He had to have her.

Claim her.

Own her.

Performing a seductive pushup, he sank inside her again. The cry on her lips was music to his deprived ears. God, he'd come too close to losing her. He never wanted to see that bleak, black night of the soul ever again.

He cupped her face in one hand and kissed her with all the love flowing through him. Heat coiled around his heart. With each jerk of his hips, he pushed his love into her.

Raking her fingers down his spine, she gave him the sting he craved.

"I never thought I'd have you again," he ground out.

She gripped him tighter. "Me neither. God, you feel so good inside me!"

He thrust harder and faster. Taking her higher as his own release hovered on the brink.

Suddenly, he pulled out. She issued a soft cry of disappointment that turned into a blistering moan as he shot down the bunk, lifted her ass in his hands and sank his tongue deep in her core.

Her flavors lit on his tongue, sweet and light with a hint of her musky arousal. When he drew her taut bud between his lips and sucked, she came off the bed in short bucks of her hips.

Slipping one finger over the seam of her pussy, he located her tight opening and eased his finger inside her.

Her inner walls gripped him. His cock stretched, ready to burst. Need pounded his veins and made his balls throb. Gliding his finger out of her pussy millimeter by millimeter, he swirled his tongue over her clit.

When she began to rhythmically pulse around his finger, and on his tongue, he anticipated her release.

But it built. And built higher.

"Carver!" She stiffened and then rocked hard and fast. He thrust a second finger inside her, stretching her pussy for when he pounded into her.

She dragged her nails over his scalp. Her muffled scream sent his body into overdrive. Precum streamed from his cock.

When she collapsed, twitching, he surged up her body and thrust his cock into her still-contracting pussy.

She cried out again and hitched her knees upward. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper.

Rolling his hips, he took her hard and fast. His release was a bright shooting star in the back of his mind, and it claimed him around a low groan of pleasure.

Hot spurts flooded her pussy with no barriers to contain them. And damn if he didn't wish that his seed would take root in her womb, binding them forever with a child born of their love.

His own thoughts shocked him, but not as much as he expected them to. After all, many men his age already had families. Settling down was never something he saw in his future…but neither had been losing his friends, retiring as a SEAL or coming to work on a ranch.

His mind blanked for several minutes as a sleepy sexual haze stole over him. He rolled over, bringing Livia with him. He traced light swirls on her spine.

When she made a soft sniffling noise, his heart squeezed like a fist. "You're crying."

Tears wet his chest where she rested her head. "I thought you left me, like everyone else has."

"Oh, darlin'." He lashed his arms around her. "We're together. It's going to be all right."

"What did they do to your wrists? Did they cut you?"

He jolted at her question. Of course she wouldn't know the details.

"No, love. They chained me up. I yanked until I managed to break a link and free myself."

She hiccupped. "You did?"

Brushing his thumb across her plump lips, he stared down at her. "I would rip apart anyone in my path to get to you, Livia. Don't you see how much you mean to me?"

She reached up to touch his face and what must be the worry lines etched as a deep bracket around his mouth. "I thought I lost you."

"You didn't, love. I'm here to stay."

Stillness came over her. He wouldn't put it past her to overthink their relationship right now.

"How can I make it up to you? How can I ever get you to trust me to take care of you?"

She searched his eyes. "It wasn't your fault. Six men jumped you, Carver. How could you ever fight them all off?"

He didn't tell her that he'd done similar before. But the guilt sweeping over him made him hold his tongue. Guilt over what happened during that strike. All those men he could have saved and hadn't been able to. Men who were under his leadership.

He'd failed Livia in the same way. If she ever forgave him for it, he would strive every day to let it go and forgive himself.

And if she didn't?

His heart lurched, and his gut clenched.

"I promise you, Livia. I'm never leaving you again. I'm going to be right here—with you—as long as you'll have me."

He felt a shiver move through her, but she didn't respond to his vehement vow.

After several minutes, he felt her tense. Then she rolled out of bed.

He caught her before she could reach for her clothing. Her eyes widened.

"Carver…"

"Talk to me."

But he saw that she'd already put up a wall between them and was done talking.

He steeled himself. That was okay—he was good at smashing down walls too.

He'd never stop fighting for Livia.