Utah, page 8
He frowned, not expecting those words. “For what?”
“For reminding me that I’m just a girl with needs and dreams like any other girl.” She paused and added, “Not a killer.”
Her last words gutted him.
The people who’d abducted her had tried to change a sweet, passionate young woman into a killer.
Had she gone through with their plan in order to save her daughter, they would have owned her for the rest of her life, or she would’ve felt compelled to turn herself in for murder. Either way, her life would’ve been ruined. Furthermore, no court in the land would have allowed her to keep Tayla, even if she got a plea bargain and a light sentence.
After several long minutes of silence, Utah left the door and returned to the lobby. He grabbed his sleeping bag and returned to the hallway outside his door.
Opening the bag, he spread it out in front of the door and lay on top of it. Though it was cool in the hall, he wanted to remain free of entanglements should he have to rise quickly to protect the two girls in his room.
Free of entanglements.
He laughed softly. Those words had been his mantra for his entire adult life. Until now.
That kiss had entanglement written all over it. Yet, it didn’t dampen his desire to do it again. In fact, it fed the flames, making him want to go back for more.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, knowing he wouldn’t sleep. Not with his thoughts roiling around in his head.
When he’d left the pub and his friends several hours earlier, he’d had a clear vision of his future, working as a handyman, restoring buildings and spending time with his buddies. Never in those scenarios had he envisioned ending the night kissing a would-be assassin and offering to protect said assassin and her three-year-old daughter. He didn’t even like kids.
An image of Tayla standing near the edge of a horrible drop-off, her little body shivering in the night air made him think, for a child, she might not be so bad. She’d stuck up for him and believed him when he’d said he was one of the good guys. Her mother hadn’t been convinced. And after he’d come onto Liza so strong, she might not be convinced he was a good guy and think she should stay as far away from him as possible.
Sometime after two o’clock, Utah must have drifted off. He woke with a start when the door he lay in front of opened slowly, and Liza’s face appeared in the gap.
He sat up instantly. “Everything okay?”
Her lips twisted. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I feel bad that you’re sleeping out here when we’re in a soft, warm bed. At the very least, you should have this.” She opened the door wider and handed him a pillow.
He smiled. “Thanks. You should be asleep.”
She nodded. “I dozed. But I felt bad about you being out here after all you’ve done for us. And whenever you want it, you can have your gun back.”
He tucked the pillow behind his head and lay back with a smile. “Keep it for now,” he said. “I feel better knowing you have some protection if I don’t happen to be around.
She dipped her head. “Thank you.” Closing the door slowly, she whispered, “Good night, Utah.”
“Good night, Liza.”
She closed the door between them.
Silence reigned except for the deafening beat of Utah’s pulse pounding against his eardrums. The woman had an alarming effect on him, and that just wouldn’t do.
He laced his fingers behind his head and settled back against the sleeping bag and the soft, fluffy pillow.
The woman who’d held a gun on him for most of their time together had offered him a pillow and felt guilty for taking his bed.
He chuckled. And they’d trained her to be an assassin? He frowned. She didn’t have it in her to kill someone.
Then he pictured the angelic three-year-old and Liza’s fierce protective instinct where her daughter was concerned.
Her captors had zeroed in on the only thing that would motivate Liza to even consider killing another person.
Tayla.
And yet, she’d risked her life, stolen a truck and braved live gunfire to get herself and her daughter out of an impossible situation.
He didn’t blame her for wanting to keep running. If TCW’s network was as widespread as Liza thought, she might never be safe. He hoped that shutting down the compound where she’d trained and capturing those who’d held her hostage would be enough or a good start in eradicating the criminals stealing people from their homes and lives and turning them into killing machines.
Over the next two hours, he dozed off and on. At four-thirty, he got up, rolled up his sleeping bag, grabbed the pillow and stashed them in a supply closet a few doors down. He wandered out into the lobby, watching for the delivery trucks that would be arriving soon.
He met Dezi Thomas as she entered through the front door, using the key card she’d been entrusted with when she’d signed on as the head chef of the Lucky Lady Lodge.
Despite the shadows beneath her eyes and her makeup-free face, she smiled brightly. “Good morning,” she called out. “Are we ready for Murdock and Gabbie’s big day?”
Utah shrugged, not as chirpy in the morning as the ever-cheerful Dezi. “We will be. The question is, are the bride and groom ready? It’s a big step.”
Dezi’s grin broadened. “Oh, they’re ready. Gabbie couldn’t wait to call it a night, insisting she get some sleep. She didn’t want to look like death when she showed up for the ceremony.”
“Did she get that sleep?”
Dezi laughed. “Though she told everyone she wouldn’t take any emergency calls last night, she disappeared around one o’clock in the morning to help a rancher’s prize mare deliver a breech foal.” The perky chef shook her head. “We didn’t even know she was gone until I passed her coming in as I was leaving her place thirty minutes ago.”
“Did everything turn out okay for the mare and foal?”
Dezi nodded. “It did. The rancher even said he’d name the foal after Gabbie and Murdock in honor of their wedding day.” She leveled a look at him. “Are you just getting in? I thought you weren’t going to stay the night in Bozeman like the other guys.”
“No. I got in around two after helping the guys get our groom back to the hotel.” He wasn’t ready to go into all that had happened on his way back from Bozeman. He’d wait to get Hank’s take on the situation and the secrecy Liza was so adamant about.
“Then you didn’t get much more sleep than I did. I volunteered to sleep in the lounge chair at Gabbie’s place. They’re going to need a lot bigger one to fit Murdock’s big frame.” She rolled her shoulders. “Needless to say, I was awake well before my alarm with a thousand thoughts going through my head. I wanted to get here and make a good start at the day’s menu before my assistants arrive at six. Thankfully, the cake is ready. After a quick breakfast for the wedding guests, I can focus on the menu for the reception. I want everything to be special.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” Utah said. “I’ll look forward to everything you’ll make.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I’ll have coffee ready in ten minutes.” With that parting comment, she hurried toward the dining room.
When Utah turned toward the front entrance, he spotted a delivery van pulling in. He hurried to unlock the door for the men delivering the chairs for the ceremony and the arbor the florist would load with flowers.
After all the chairs were set up in front of the massive fireplace and the metal arbor erected, they carried in the linens that would be used in the dining room for the reception.
Utah worked alongside the party rental people to get the job done quickly, his gaze going to the windows in anticipation of the sunrise and Hank’s appearance.
The florists arrived as the night faded into the gray light of pre-dawn. He showed them where Gabbie had indicated she’d wanted the flowers placed and left them to their work. Everything was falling into place.
If all went well, Utah hoped to fly with Hank’s team in the helicopter to help look for the camp where Liza had been held captive for ten months. He’d like to be the one to get his hands on her trainer, Spike, and Commander, the man in charge of the operation.
With the party planners and the florists busy, he hurried into the kitchen.
“There you are,” Dezi sang out. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and grab a fork. I made an omelet for you.” She was busy stirring a skillet full of fluffy scrambled eggs.
“Do you have a tray I could use? I’d like to eat in my room. And do you mind making another omelet?”
Her brow wrinkled. “The omelet is in the warmer. It should be good.”
“Thanks, but I’d like another plate.” He looked over her shoulder at the eggs in the pan. “And if you don’t mind, another plate with some of the scrambled eggs. Is there bacon or sausage?” he asked, looking around.
Dezi laughed as she sprinkled little cubes of ham and tomatoes, bell pepper and chopped green onions into another skillet with a thin layer of olive oil. “Hungry this morning?”
“Something like that,” he answered. Using tongs, he added more ham to the skillet, along with bacon bits.
Dezi poured eggs over the meat and vegetables and set the skillet over a flame. While the omelet cooked, she scraped most of the eggs out of the other skillet into a large bowl and filled a plate with what was left.
With quiet efficiency, Dezi pulled out a serving tray, loaded the omelet from the warmer, the scrambled eggs, a plate stacked with pancakes, a small pitcher of syrup and another plate filled with bacon and sausage links.
Utah grabbed juice glasses and filled two with fresh-squeezed orange juice from the refrigerator and one with milk. He set them between the plates, leaving room for the last omelet, which Dezi expertly flipped in half, adding a layer of shredded cheddar cheese across the top before she slid it onto a plate and filled the space on the loaded tray.
“Don’t forget the coffee,” she reminded him and turned to pull biscuits from the oven.
Utah filled two mugs with freshly brewed coffee and squeezed them onto the tray. Then he lifted it in two arms. “Jesus. How do the wait staff carry these trays on one hand?”
Dezi chuckled. “They get good at balancing over time. I’d hold on with both hands for now.”
He carried the tray out of the kitchen, through the dining room, across the lobby and down the hallway to stop in front of his room.
He kicked the door softly with the toe of his boot. “Hey, it’s me,” he called out.
He waited for what felt like a very long moment. The door remained closed. The pretty blonde who’d taken over his room and his life the night before didn’t open it to stick her head out.
He frowned, his gut clenching.
Had she gotten cold feet and snuck out while he’d been busy with the deliveries?
He kicked the door again, some of his desperation adding force to the tip of his boot.
The door opened immediately. Liza looked out, a frown pulling her eyebrows down low. “What’s wrong?” Then she spotted the loaded tray, a smile spreading across her face. “Holy smokes, that’s enough to feed an army.” Her gaze met his, her eyes going wide. “Is that for us?”
He nodded. “If you open the door and let me set it down before I drop it all.”
Liza stepped back and held the door wide. She’d changed out of his T-shirt and into the clothes she’d worn when he’d found her. Her hair had been gathered up onto the top of her head in some kind of messy bun. Loose golden strands framed her clean, fresh face. She was beautiful.
“Wow. Oh, wow.” Her voice choked. She sat on the edge of the bed and clasped her cheeks in her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. Is this even real?”
Tayla sat up in bed and placed a hand on her mother’s back. “It’s okay,” the little girl said. “It’s real. The pancakes look so good, and I can smell them from here.”
Liza reached over her shoulder to cup her daughter’s face. “I love you, baby.”
The little girl wrapped her arms around Liza’s neck. “I love you, too, Mommy.” She leaned back and glanced at the tray Utah had lowered to the little table. “Are you going to eat with us, Mr. Utah?”
Utah grinned at how Tayla addressed him. For a three-year-old, she spoke like an adult, much like Utah probably had at her age. “It’s up to your mother.”
Liza nodded. “Of course. Please, eat with us.”
The table only had two straight-back chairs. Utah held one of the chairs for Tayla as she scrambled up into it.
When Liza hesitated over the other, he smiled. “Sit and start eating. The sun will be up soon.” He met her gaze. Hank would be there soon.
She nodded. “I understand. But where will you sit?”
He tipped his head toward the armchair against the wall.
Liza sank into the chair he held for her. “Thank you.”
Once Liza was seated, Utah moved the armchair from the corner up to the table and sat forward on the edge of the cushion so that he could reach the table.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he said. “You have your choice of pancakes, an omelet or scrambled eggs, and bacon or sausage.”
“My mouth is watering,” she said. “It all looks and smells so good.”
“Dezi is a great chef,” Utah said. “She even makes simple eggs taste gourmet.”
“What do you want to eat?” Liza asked.
He smiled. “I like everything. You and Tayla are the guests. You get to choose first.”
Liza placed the scrambled eggs in front of Tayla, added a pancake, a strip of crispy bacon and a sausage link.
Tayla waited, her eyes wide, her little tongue sweeping over her lips.
When Utah lifted his fork, the little girl lifted hers. It wasn’t until Utah took his first bit of omelet that she dug into her scrambled eggs. She quickly ate half the huge plate of eggs, the entire pancake, the bacon and the sausage link.
Liza scarfed down her omelet before Utah had made it two-thirds through his own.
“Did they feed you breakfast at the camp?” he asked softly.
Liza stared at the slice of bacon in her hand. “Not like this. Sometimes, we got warm oatmeal. Most often, we ate bologna or peanut butter sandwiches.”
He chuckled. “And if you never see another peanut butter sandwich…” His smile faded. “I get it.”
Liza polished off her slice of bacon and one fluffy pancake. After she washed all of it down with a glass of orange juice, she sat back. “Wow.”
Tayla sat back against her seat, her hand on her belly. “My tummy is full.”
Liza smiled at her daughter. “Mine, too.” She turned to Utah. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Dezi. She made this possible.”
Liza frowned. “What does she know?”
“About you? Nothing.” He laid down his fork and lifted his coffee mug. “I told her I wanted the extra food for one of the guests. She was busy preparing a breakfast buffet for the other wedding guests who will be rising soon. She didn’t ask any questions.”
Liza nodded. “Any word from your friend Hank?”
“Nothing. He should be here at daylight.” Utah glanced toward the bathroom. “If you don’t mind, I want to shower before he gets here. I’d like to tag along on the helicopter if they can get me back by noon.” He grimaced. “I’m one of the groomsmen, and the photographer wants us dressed and assembled by one o’clock for pre-wedding photos.”
Liza shook her head. “Of course. This is your room. Do what you need to.” She rose with her cup of coffee in her hand. “I’m sorry our presence is interfering with your plans.”
“Don’t be.” Utah crossed to the dresser and opened the drawer with his T-shirts and underwear. “You accomplished a great feat, getting out of that place. Don’t worry about me. If I don’t make it on time, the guys will understand.” He selected a black T-shirt and boxer briefs, closed the drawer and reached into the closet for a pair of jeans. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
She nodded and took a sip of her coffee, her gaze on him as he turned toward the bathroom.
Utah was relieved she hadn’t decided to make a run for it while he’d been working that morning to set up the wedding venue.
The more he was around her, the more he wanted to know about the stranger he’d found on the side of the highway.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it into the clothes basket in the corner where the T-shirt she’d worn lay. An image of Liza wearing that T-shirt raised the heat level in the bathroom and made Utah’s groin tighten. Glad of the door between them, he shucked his boots and jeans, stepped into the shower and turned on the cold water.
Thinking about Liza in that T-shirt only led him to physical frustration. He’d needed to focus on something that would tamp down the desire making his cock hard.
What about the men she’d had to deal with at the camp? What had she called them? Spike and Commander?
Utah stood beneath the cool spray, allowing the water to run down his front, chill water shrinking his hard shaft effectively. He scrubbed his face and body, rinsed and turned off the shower.
After drying, he slipped into his boxer briefs and jeans, imagining Liza standing on the other side of the door, drinking coffee and talking to Tayla.
What about Tayla?
Utah wasn’t usually comfortable around children. But he didn’t feel uncomfortable with Tayla. She spoke to him as if she was an equal, not like most three-year-olds he’d been around. And that hadn’t been many. Thankfully, she wasn’t a screaming, burping, pooping baby. Those squirming creatures positively scared him.
For a kid, Tayla was all right. And she was the mini-version of her beautiful mother. The love shared between the two was obvious and profound.
Liza would do anything for that little girl.
Utah hoped she didn’t have to kill for her.
Chapter 8
Liza combed through Tayla’s hair, easing out the tangles. When she was done, she pulled her daughter’s hair back to the nape of her neck and was twisting an elastic band around it when her daughter turned her head sharply and stepped away.
“For reminding me that I’m just a girl with needs and dreams like any other girl.” She paused and added, “Not a killer.”
Her last words gutted him.
The people who’d abducted her had tried to change a sweet, passionate young woman into a killer.
Had she gone through with their plan in order to save her daughter, they would have owned her for the rest of her life, or she would’ve felt compelled to turn herself in for murder. Either way, her life would’ve been ruined. Furthermore, no court in the land would have allowed her to keep Tayla, even if she got a plea bargain and a light sentence.
After several long minutes of silence, Utah left the door and returned to the lobby. He grabbed his sleeping bag and returned to the hallway outside his door.
Opening the bag, he spread it out in front of the door and lay on top of it. Though it was cool in the hall, he wanted to remain free of entanglements should he have to rise quickly to protect the two girls in his room.
Free of entanglements.
He laughed softly. Those words had been his mantra for his entire adult life. Until now.
That kiss had entanglement written all over it. Yet, it didn’t dampen his desire to do it again. In fact, it fed the flames, making him want to go back for more.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, knowing he wouldn’t sleep. Not with his thoughts roiling around in his head.
When he’d left the pub and his friends several hours earlier, he’d had a clear vision of his future, working as a handyman, restoring buildings and spending time with his buddies. Never in those scenarios had he envisioned ending the night kissing a would-be assassin and offering to protect said assassin and her three-year-old daughter. He didn’t even like kids.
An image of Tayla standing near the edge of a horrible drop-off, her little body shivering in the night air made him think, for a child, she might not be so bad. She’d stuck up for him and believed him when he’d said he was one of the good guys. Her mother hadn’t been convinced. And after he’d come onto Liza so strong, she might not be convinced he was a good guy and think she should stay as far away from him as possible.
Sometime after two o’clock, Utah must have drifted off. He woke with a start when the door he lay in front of opened slowly, and Liza’s face appeared in the gap.
He sat up instantly. “Everything okay?”
Her lips twisted. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I feel bad that you’re sleeping out here when we’re in a soft, warm bed. At the very least, you should have this.” She opened the door wider and handed him a pillow.
He smiled. “Thanks. You should be asleep.”
She nodded. “I dozed. But I felt bad about you being out here after all you’ve done for us. And whenever you want it, you can have your gun back.”
He tucked the pillow behind his head and lay back with a smile. “Keep it for now,” he said. “I feel better knowing you have some protection if I don’t happen to be around.
She dipped her head. “Thank you.” Closing the door slowly, she whispered, “Good night, Utah.”
“Good night, Liza.”
She closed the door between them.
Silence reigned except for the deafening beat of Utah’s pulse pounding against his eardrums. The woman had an alarming effect on him, and that just wouldn’t do.
He laced his fingers behind his head and settled back against the sleeping bag and the soft, fluffy pillow.
The woman who’d held a gun on him for most of their time together had offered him a pillow and felt guilty for taking his bed.
He chuckled. And they’d trained her to be an assassin? He frowned. She didn’t have it in her to kill someone.
Then he pictured the angelic three-year-old and Liza’s fierce protective instinct where her daughter was concerned.
Her captors had zeroed in on the only thing that would motivate Liza to even consider killing another person.
Tayla.
And yet, she’d risked her life, stolen a truck and braved live gunfire to get herself and her daughter out of an impossible situation.
He didn’t blame her for wanting to keep running. If TCW’s network was as widespread as Liza thought, she might never be safe. He hoped that shutting down the compound where she’d trained and capturing those who’d held her hostage would be enough or a good start in eradicating the criminals stealing people from their homes and lives and turning them into killing machines.
Over the next two hours, he dozed off and on. At four-thirty, he got up, rolled up his sleeping bag, grabbed the pillow and stashed them in a supply closet a few doors down. He wandered out into the lobby, watching for the delivery trucks that would be arriving soon.
He met Dezi Thomas as she entered through the front door, using the key card she’d been entrusted with when she’d signed on as the head chef of the Lucky Lady Lodge.
Despite the shadows beneath her eyes and her makeup-free face, she smiled brightly. “Good morning,” she called out. “Are we ready for Murdock and Gabbie’s big day?”
Utah shrugged, not as chirpy in the morning as the ever-cheerful Dezi. “We will be. The question is, are the bride and groom ready? It’s a big step.”
Dezi’s grin broadened. “Oh, they’re ready. Gabbie couldn’t wait to call it a night, insisting she get some sleep. She didn’t want to look like death when she showed up for the ceremony.”
“Did she get that sleep?”
Dezi laughed. “Though she told everyone she wouldn’t take any emergency calls last night, she disappeared around one o’clock in the morning to help a rancher’s prize mare deliver a breech foal.” The perky chef shook her head. “We didn’t even know she was gone until I passed her coming in as I was leaving her place thirty minutes ago.”
“Did everything turn out okay for the mare and foal?”
Dezi nodded. “It did. The rancher even said he’d name the foal after Gabbie and Murdock in honor of their wedding day.” She leveled a look at him. “Are you just getting in? I thought you weren’t going to stay the night in Bozeman like the other guys.”
“No. I got in around two after helping the guys get our groom back to the hotel.” He wasn’t ready to go into all that had happened on his way back from Bozeman. He’d wait to get Hank’s take on the situation and the secrecy Liza was so adamant about.
“Then you didn’t get much more sleep than I did. I volunteered to sleep in the lounge chair at Gabbie’s place. They’re going to need a lot bigger one to fit Murdock’s big frame.” She rolled her shoulders. “Needless to say, I was awake well before my alarm with a thousand thoughts going through my head. I wanted to get here and make a good start at the day’s menu before my assistants arrive at six. Thankfully, the cake is ready. After a quick breakfast for the wedding guests, I can focus on the menu for the reception. I want everything to be special.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” Utah said. “I’ll look forward to everything you’ll make.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I’ll have coffee ready in ten minutes.” With that parting comment, she hurried toward the dining room.
When Utah turned toward the front entrance, he spotted a delivery van pulling in. He hurried to unlock the door for the men delivering the chairs for the ceremony and the arbor the florist would load with flowers.
After all the chairs were set up in front of the massive fireplace and the metal arbor erected, they carried in the linens that would be used in the dining room for the reception.
Utah worked alongside the party rental people to get the job done quickly, his gaze going to the windows in anticipation of the sunrise and Hank’s appearance.
The florists arrived as the night faded into the gray light of pre-dawn. He showed them where Gabbie had indicated she’d wanted the flowers placed and left them to their work. Everything was falling into place.
If all went well, Utah hoped to fly with Hank’s team in the helicopter to help look for the camp where Liza had been held captive for ten months. He’d like to be the one to get his hands on her trainer, Spike, and Commander, the man in charge of the operation.
With the party planners and the florists busy, he hurried into the kitchen.
“There you are,” Dezi sang out. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and grab a fork. I made an omelet for you.” She was busy stirring a skillet full of fluffy scrambled eggs.
“Do you have a tray I could use? I’d like to eat in my room. And do you mind making another omelet?”
Her brow wrinkled. “The omelet is in the warmer. It should be good.”
“Thanks, but I’d like another plate.” He looked over her shoulder at the eggs in the pan. “And if you don’t mind, another plate with some of the scrambled eggs. Is there bacon or sausage?” he asked, looking around.
Dezi laughed as she sprinkled little cubes of ham and tomatoes, bell pepper and chopped green onions into another skillet with a thin layer of olive oil. “Hungry this morning?”
“Something like that,” he answered. Using tongs, he added more ham to the skillet, along with bacon bits.
Dezi poured eggs over the meat and vegetables and set the skillet over a flame. While the omelet cooked, she scraped most of the eggs out of the other skillet into a large bowl and filled a plate with what was left.
With quiet efficiency, Dezi pulled out a serving tray, loaded the omelet from the warmer, the scrambled eggs, a plate stacked with pancakes, a small pitcher of syrup and another plate filled with bacon and sausage links.
Utah grabbed juice glasses and filled two with fresh-squeezed orange juice from the refrigerator and one with milk. He set them between the plates, leaving room for the last omelet, which Dezi expertly flipped in half, adding a layer of shredded cheddar cheese across the top before she slid it onto a plate and filled the space on the loaded tray.
“Don’t forget the coffee,” she reminded him and turned to pull biscuits from the oven.
Utah filled two mugs with freshly brewed coffee and squeezed them onto the tray. Then he lifted it in two arms. “Jesus. How do the wait staff carry these trays on one hand?”
Dezi chuckled. “They get good at balancing over time. I’d hold on with both hands for now.”
He carried the tray out of the kitchen, through the dining room, across the lobby and down the hallway to stop in front of his room.
He kicked the door softly with the toe of his boot. “Hey, it’s me,” he called out.
He waited for what felt like a very long moment. The door remained closed. The pretty blonde who’d taken over his room and his life the night before didn’t open it to stick her head out.
He frowned, his gut clenching.
Had she gotten cold feet and snuck out while he’d been busy with the deliveries?
He kicked the door again, some of his desperation adding force to the tip of his boot.
The door opened immediately. Liza looked out, a frown pulling her eyebrows down low. “What’s wrong?” Then she spotted the loaded tray, a smile spreading across her face. “Holy smokes, that’s enough to feed an army.” Her gaze met his, her eyes going wide. “Is that for us?”
He nodded. “If you open the door and let me set it down before I drop it all.”
Liza stepped back and held the door wide. She’d changed out of his T-shirt and into the clothes she’d worn when he’d found her. Her hair had been gathered up onto the top of her head in some kind of messy bun. Loose golden strands framed her clean, fresh face. She was beautiful.
“Wow. Oh, wow.” Her voice choked. She sat on the edge of the bed and clasped her cheeks in her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. Is this even real?”
Tayla sat up in bed and placed a hand on her mother’s back. “It’s okay,” the little girl said. “It’s real. The pancakes look so good, and I can smell them from here.”
Liza reached over her shoulder to cup her daughter’s face. “I love you, baby.”
The little girl wrapped her arms around Liza’s neck. “I love you, too, Mommy.” She leaned back and glanced at the tray Utah had lowered to the little table. “Are you going to eat with us, Mr. Utah?”
Utah grinned at how Tayla addressed him. For a three-year-old, she spoke like an adult, much like Utah probably had at her age. “It’s up to your mother.”
Liza nodded. “Of course. Please, eat with us.”
The table only had two straight-back chairs. Utah held one of the chairs for Tayla as she scrambled up into it.
When Liza hesitated over the other, he smiled. “Sit and start eating. The sun will be up soon.” He met her gaze. Hank would be there soon.
She nodded. “I understand. But where will you sit?”
He tipped his head toward the armchair against the wall.
Liza sank into the chair he held for her. “Thank you.”
Once Liza was seated, Utah moved the armchair from the corner up to the table and sat forward on the edge of the cushion so that he could reach the table.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he said. “You have your choice of pancakes, an omelet or scrambled eggs, and bacon or sausage.”
“My mouth is watering,” she said. “It all looks and smells so good.”
“Dezi is a great chef,” Utah said. “She even makes simple eggs taste gourmet.”
“What do you want to eat?” Liza asked.
He smiled. “I like everything. You and Tayla are the guests. You get to choose first.”
Liza placed the scrambled eggs in front of Tayla, added a pancake, a strip of crispy bacon and a sausage link.
Tayla waited, her eyes wide, her little tongue sweeping over her lips.
When Utah lifted his fork, the little girl lifted hers. It wasn’t until Utah took his first bit of omelet that she dug into her scrambled eggs. She quickly ate half the huge plate of eggs, the entire pancake, the bacon and the sausage link.
Liza scarfed down her omelet before Utah had made it two-thirds through his own.
“Did they feed you breakfast at the camp?” he asked softly.
Liza stared at the slice of bacon in her hand. “Not like this. Sometimes, we got warm oatmeal. Most often, we ate bologna or peanut butter sandwiches.”
He chuckled. “And if you never see another peanut butter sandwich…” His smile faded. “I get it.”
Liza polished off her slice of bacon and one fluffy pancake. After she washed all of it down with a glass of orange juice, she sat back. “Wow.”
Tayla sat back against her seat, her hand on her belly. “My tummy is full.”
Liza smiled at her daughter. “Mine, too.” She turned to Utah. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Dezi. She made this possible.”
Liza frowned. “What does she know?”
“About you? Nothing.” He laid down his fork and lifted his coffee mug. “I told her I wanted the extra food for one of the guests. She was busy preparing a breakfast buffet for the other wedding guests who will be rising soon. She didn’t ask any questions.”
Liza nodded. “Any word from your friend Hank?”
“Nothing. He should be here at daylight.” Utah glanced toward the bathroom. “If you don’t mind, I want to shower before he gets here. I’d like to tag along on the helicopter if they can get me back by noon.” He grimaced. “I’m one of the groomsmen, and the photographer wants us dressed and assembled by one o’clock for pre-wedding photos.”
Liza shook her head. “Of course. This is your room. Do what you need to.” She rose with her cup of coffee in her hand. “I’m sorry our presence is interfering with your plans.”
“Don’t be.” Utah crossed to the dresser and opened the drawer with his T-shirts and underwear. “You accomplished a great feat, getting out of that place. Don’t worry about me. If I don’t make it on time, the guys will understand.” He selected a black T-shirt and boxer briefs, closed the drawer and reached into the closet for a pair of jeans. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
She nodded and took a sip of her coffee, her gaze on him as he turned toward the bathroom.
Utah was relieved she hadn’t decided to make a run for it while he’d been working that morning to set up the wedding venue.
The more he was around her, the more he wanted to know about the stranger he’d found on the side of the highway.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it into the clothes basket in the corner where the T-shirt she’d worn lay. An image of Liza wearing that T-shirt raised the heat level in the bathroom and made Utah’s groin tighten. Glad of the door between them, he shucked his boots and jeans, stepped into the shower and turned on the cold water.
Thinking about Liza in that T-shirt only led him to physical frustration. He’d needed to focus on something that would tamp down the desire making his cock hard.
What about the men she’d had to deal with at the camp? What had she called them? Spike and Commander?
Utah stood beneath the cool spray, allowing the water to run down his front, chill water shrinking his hard shaft effectively. He scrubbed his face and body, rinsed and turned off the shower.
After drying, he slipped into his boxer briefs and jeans, imagining Liza standing on the other side of the door, drinking coffee and talking to Tayla.
What about Tayla?
Utah wasn’t usually comfortable around children. But he didn’t feel uncomfortable with Tayla. She spoke to him as if she was an equal, not like most three-year-olds he’d been around. And that hadn’t been many. Thankfully, she wasn’t a screaming, burping, pooping baby. Those squirming creatures positively scared him.
For a kid, Tayla was all right. And she was the mini-version of her beautiful mother. The love shared between the two was obvious and profound.
Liza would do anything for that little girl.
Utah hoped she didn’t have to kill for her.
Chapter 8
Liza combed through Tayla’s hair, easing out the tangles. When she was done, she pulled her daughter’s hair back to the nape of her neck and was twisting an elastic band around it when her daughter turned her head sharply and stepped away.
