The Best Man to Trust

CHAPTER Sixteen



The group that assembled for dinner was understandably subdued. Tom eyed the others, taking in the grim faces and downcast eyes. Scott and Rachel sat next to each other but didn’t so much as glance in each other’s direction. Greg’s head was still bandaged. Alex looked up from his plate every once in a while to shoot glances at the others before dropping his head again.

Meredith and Ellen had just begun placing the meal on the table when Rick walked into the dining room. “Ms. Sutton—” He came to an abrupt stop once he saw the scene in front of him. “I’m sorry. Don’t mean to interrupt...”

“It’s all right, Rick,” Meredith said, straightening to face him. “What is it?”

“Just wanted to let you know I managed to get the plow hooked up to the truck. I tested it and it’s good to go. I can start trying to clear the road in the morning.”

Tom felt a trace of guilt for having left Rick to finish with the plow on his own. But after what had happened to Meredith, he hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight even for a moment. And he hadn’t.

“Why wait until then?” Rachel asked. “Can’t you get started now so we can get out of here sooner?”

Rick gave his head a tight shake. “Too dangerous trying to navigate that winding mountain road in just the lights from the plow. The snow’s so high I won’t be able to see anything else. I’d rather to wait until daylight when I can see better, especially since it’s my first time trying to do it.”

As Tom listened to the man’s words, he had to frown. He was the one who’d driven a plow before, a remnant of his childhood growing up in Minnesota. The job would go faster if a more experienced driver were operating the plow. Not to mention it probably would be better if there was more than one person doing the job—two pairs of eyes to keep a look out on that treacherous, winding mountain road, another pair of hands if something went wrong. Anything to get them out—and the police in here—faster.

Then he glanced at Meredith, the words dying on his lips.

If he was with Rick working on clearing the road, Meredith would be here in the house alone.

With the killer.

A chill swept over him, every part of him recoiling at the idea. He couldn’t leave her. Not after today. The memory of how she’d looked lying on the floor, the terror that had ripped through him, all came rushing back. No, if there was even a chance of it happening again...

He looked around the table for any other options. “Rick, do you need any help?” he asked, gauging the others’ reactions.

Rick appeared to consider the question. “It couldn’t hurt. Might get the job done faster.”

No one else at the table gave any indication they’d picked up on the hint. But then, with his head injury and likely self-medication, Greg was in no condition to help. Even if things were tense between them, Scott wouldn’t want to leave Rachel for that long, and Tom wouldn’t have felt right asking him to do it. Alex made no move to volunteer. He shot Rick a suspicious look before lowering his eyes.

Considering the wary glance Rick shot across the table, he didn’t particularly want to work with any of them, either. Of course, Tom thought, swallowing a groan. After today, any suspicions he’d had toward Rick were gone, and Rick seemed to trust him, too. But as far as he knew, one of the others was a killer. Any of the others who were innocent might suspect the same of him. None of them would want to work together and be alone for long stretches at a time.

That left Tom.

He looked at Meredith. She stood biting her lip, apparently deep in thought. Most likely she was also considering her options, not feeling right asking one of her guests for their help, especially after all they’d been through.

He needed to do something to get her—get all of them—out of here.

He forced himself to swallow his ambivalence. “I’ll help you,” he told Rick. “We can get started first thing.”

He would just have to make sure Meredith was safe while they worked.

* * *

AFTER AN INCREDIBLY tense dinner, the guests quickly retreated to their rooms. Rick headed to bed, exhausted from the work he’d done that day and needing to get some rest for the big day ahead of him tomorrow. Ellen finished cleaning up the kitchen, then accepted Meredith’s offer to fill the dishwasher, retreating to her own room.

Meredith and Tom were left in the kitchen, working in silence. She’d noticed that he hadn’t said much at dinner, so she didn’t try to get him to talk. They all had a lot on their minds.

There was something comfortable about being with him, doing something as mundane as loading a dishwasher together. She tried not to read too much into it, didn’t want to make more of it than it was. It was nice. No more, no less. And after everything that had happened over the past few days, a nice, quiet moment was more than enough.

When they were finished, they made their way out of the kitchen, shutting off the lights, heading back to the main foyer. It was still early, but Sutton Hall was silent and tranquil.

Unsurprisingly, no one was up for wandering the halls.

“Thank you for volunteering to help Rick,” Meredith said softly as they climbed the staircase to the second floor. “I think everybody is happy to be getting out of here sooner—and to have the police finally arrive.”

“Somebody had to do it,” he said flatly. “I just wish it didn’t have to be me.”

“I know it’s going to be a lot of work, and I would do it if I could, but I wouldn’t feel right leaving Ellen and the rest of the wedding party alone in the house. Not when we don’t know who the killer is. I need to be here for them. I have to do my best to make sure nothing else happens.”

They’d reached the second-floor landing. As expected, the hallway was empty.

He looked over at her in amazement. “I don’t care how much work it’s going to be. I hate the idea of leaving you alone in the house. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Irritated, she shot him a glare. “I told you I don’t need a babysitter.”

“And I told you I wasn’t saying you need one. But everybody can use somebody to watch their back, especially with a killer on the loose.”

“I can take care of myself,” she told him firmly. They’d reached his room. Expecting him to stop, she picked up speed, continuing on toward her room.

To her surprise, he fell into step beside her. “I can’t believe I care more about your safety than you do.”

“You don’t.”

“It sure seems that way.”

They arrived in front of her door. With nowhere else to go, she stopped, whirling to face him. “Is this because you feel sorry for me? Because of what happened with Brad? Because I don’t need your pity.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked with a combination of amusement and disbelief. “I don’t want anything to happen to you because I feel sorry for you?”

It did sound kind of foolish when he said it like that. “Then what is it? I don’t see you getting this protective with anyone else.”

He looked at her for a long moment, something in that steady gaze setting off a nervous flutter in her belly. “You really don’t know?” he asked, his voice suddenly softer.

He moved closer, forcing her to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. Only a step separated them, maybe less. She didn’t look to see. She couldn’t. She could only stare into his eyes and the unexpected heat she saw simmering in them.

Deep down she felt a whisper of disbelief, the doubt of that girl she’d once been, unable to fathom that she could possibly be seeing what she thought she did in Tom Campbell’s eyes.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore. And he wasn’t that boy. He was a man now, a man standing mere inches away, a man looking at her as no man ever had.

The man who wanted her.

A thrill raced through her, exploding along her nerve endings at the certainty, the absolute firmness of that knowledge inside her, just before he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was soft, gentle. His lips brushed against hers with the sweetest caress, strong and sure and lingering. Her eyelids automatically drifted shut as the feeling of that achingly sweet contact washed over her. At the same time, her lips instinctively parted. His immediately moved against them again, then again, gradually deepening the kiss. His tongue dived forth into her mouth to claim her, driving a moan from deep in her throat. He cupped the back of her head in his hand, his fingertips stroking against her skin, drawing her mouth closer to him, devouring her further.

Suddenly her back bumped against the door behind her. Something hard dug into her spine.

The doorknob, she realized, wincing against the pain.

He must have noticed. He immediately broke the kiss. A deep sense of loss crashed over her and it was all she could do not to reach out and catch his face in her hands, to pull him back to her. He leaned away slightly, his face still only inches from hers.

The distance allowed her to see what was behind him. The empty hallway. She suddenly remembered where they were, what lurked in the shadows. She glanced down the hall. “We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered. “Not here.”

“You’re right,” he murmured, releasing her. He scanned the hall, as well.

She watched him, wondering what would happen next, what she wanted to happen next.

And she knew. Knew exactly what she wanted to happen, more than anything she’d ever wanted in her entire life.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her keys, quickly unlocking the door. Shoving it open, she stepped inside and turned back to face him.

He stood just on the other side of the threshold, watching her, seemingly waiting to see what she wanted to do.

Meredith pushed the door open farther and took another step back.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked softly.

“Yes.” People were dying all around them. They didn’t know when they would get out of here, didn’t know what would happen next, didn’t know if they could count on seeing tomorrow. All the more reason to live for the moment, for now.

She needed this. She needed him.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

He didn’t hesitate further, walking into the room and pushing the door shut behind him.

Then, finally, his mouth was on hers again. She plunged her hands into his hair to hold him close, to draw him near as his lips stroked against hers, as she met him kiss for kiss. Each one only drove the need inside her higher. Each one was better than the last. She needed them. She needed this. She needed more. She needed to touch him, to taste him. Needed the utterly, achingly delicious feeling of his tongue moving against hers, of his mouth capturing, taking, teasing her own.

She felt his hands go around her hips. They reached for the bottom of her sweater, his fingertips brushing the soft skin at the small of her back.

She instinctively tensed.

As soon as she did she wished she hadn’t. Because Tom went still, clearly having felt her reaction. A moment later, he pulled away. She felt a burst of fear that he would let her go entirely.

He didn’t, leaning back just far enough to look into her eyes, an open question in his.

“Everything okay?”

Meredith nodded quickly. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just...I haven’t...been with anyone since...” She swallowed hard.

She saw from his face that she didn’t need to finish. He knew what she meant.

Since Brad.

His voice gentled. “We don’t have to do this....”

The warmth, the kindness, the sheer tenderness on that magnificent face broke something inside her. That momentary uncertainty vanished, washed away in a rush of adrenaline that poured through her.

She held on tightly to the front of his sweater, not wanting to let him get even an inch farther away. “Yes,” she said over the lump in her throat. “The past few days have been a nightmare. The past year— Heck, the past seven years were so terrible it’s felt like I would never wake up from them. I’ve had the nightmare. Now I want the dream.”

She watched the words wash over him, saw the shifting emotions as they sank in. Finally his expression softened. A slight smile touched his lips, just before he lowered them to hers once more.

It was just a single kiss. He pressed his lips to hers firmly, catching her mouth in one long, lingering caress before breaking it off. His smile deepening, he eased her fingers from his sweater.

“Why don’t I start?”

Reaching down, he tore off his sweater, revealing a lean, toned torso dusted with blond hair. The breath hitched in her throat as she took in the sight of him. It was the body of an active man, long and lightly muscled. She instinctively reached out, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin, the coiled strength beneath it. And then her hand was there, on his chest. She basked in the sight of it, relished the sensation of it, as an ineffable giddiness swirled through her. His chest hair was soft beneath her fingers. His heat soaked into her palm, sliding up her arm to fill her to the core with his warmth.

It was amazing. It was indescribable.

It wasn’t enough.

She wanted to feel all of him. She wanted to feel every part of him pressed against every part of her.

With some reluctance, she pulled her hand away, dropping it to the bottom of her own sweater. Taking a breath, she pulled it off, letting it tumble from her fingers to the floor.

She watched him as his gaze moved over her, the blueness of his eyes deepening, with desire, with approval. He slowly raised his hand toward her. She tried to quell the tremor of nervousness that quaked through her, even as she couldn’t tell how much of it was nervousness and how much was actually excitement. She expected him to reach for her bra, to unhook it, to release her breasts.

He didn’t. He reached out and placed his hand on her side, just above her hip. The touch was gentle, careful, his skin warm and soft. He kept his hand there, unmoving, and she realized what he was doing. Letting her adjust to the feeling, to his touch. Fresh heat spilled through her at the tenderness of it, at the kindness.

She reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck, and caught his mouth with hers. Their lips moved together again, faster, hungrier. She felt his hands move against her back, stroking against her skin. At some point he must have unhooked her bra. Suddenly the garment was slipping away. Her breasts were free, pressed against the hard wall of his chest, her sensitive nipples brushing against his chest hair. The feeling of his bare skin on hers was good. So very good. It just reminded her how much she’d wanted it, how much she’d wanted more.

She fumbled for the button of his pants. Simultaneously, she felt his hands at her waistband. They shoved out of their pants, kicking them off, casting aside their underwear. And then she felt it, all of him, his thighs against hers, their hips meeting, the hard length of his erection pressing against her, eager, insistent.

He suddenly bent, scooping her up into his arms. Then he was lowering her onto the bed. Turning away, he reached for his pants on the floor, allowing her to see all of him, everything that had been pressed against her only moments ago. He looked every bit as good as he felt. She could have stared all night, the ache inside her pounding harder, heavier, with every glance. She’d thought he was beautiful before. The full view was only better.

He pulled out his wallet and retrieved a foil packet. Within moments he’d covered himself and returned to her. Lowering himself onto the bed, he stretched out beside her, his hands immediately reaching for her, hungrily, eagerly, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching her. She couldn’t keep her hands off him any more than he could, her fingers skimming over every hard ridge of his belly, glancing over the wide expanse of his shoulders, reaching out to grasp his erection and stroke the silky hardness, feeling it surge against her fingers. Until it wasn’t enough.

As soon as she thought it, he rolled her over onto her back, moving with her to position himself above her. She braced herself for that burst of fear at having someone on top of her, ready to shake it off as soon as it happened, not about to let it ruin this.

It never came. As he moved on top of her and braced himself above her, all she felt was the rightness of it. Of being here with him. Of what was about to happen next.

He looked down into her eyes, a question amidst the cloudy desire in his.

She answered it with a smile, raising her hips, urging him forward.

He needed no further prompting. He pushed his hips forward, sliding into her, burying himself to the hilt.

And it was utterly perfect. More than she could have dreamed. The rightness of having this man with her, inside her, above her.

As he moved inside her, she peered up into his face, taking in the beauty of it. He was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, even more so now that she knew who he was inside, the man beneath the flawless exterior.

And found him staring back at her, his deep blue eyes focused intently on her face, like he couldn’t get enough of looking at her.

Like she was beautiful, too.

Happiness soared through her in a rush and she smiled, unable to keep the feeling off her face. He returned it, his lips widening in a big, open grin, and kissed her again.

Their bodies moved in tandem, building in rhythm and speed, matching the growing intensity of the emotions pounding through her. There was so much. Arousal and desire and need. Excitement and happiness and wonder. The feeling of all of them clashing together was heady, intense, a giddy swirl of so many emotions and sensations building inside her, the pressure growing. She couldn’t breathe. It was too much. Each moment built to more, more pleasure, more wonder, more everything. Until finally she couldn’t take it any longer. She erupted, feeling him explode with her, in her, around her at the same moment, in a flood of sensation.

And as they came down together and she clung to him, basking in every moment, she felt one thing above all else.

Joy.

* * *

“AS IF I DIDN’T hate the idea of leaving you enough already...”

Curled up by Tom’s side, her cheek resting on his chest, Meredith smiled. “I hate it, too, but it has to be done. The phones are still down. The only way we’re going to get out of here is to get the road cleared.”

He exhaled, his breath brushing over the top of her head. “I know. But there has to be a way of keeping you safe when I’m not here....”

The delicious warmth of what they’d just shared began to fade. Here they were again. Back to this.

She understood the motivation behind the words, knew that he genuinely cared about her, but they still rankled. “I told you, I’m just going to have to take care of myself. I know I didn’t do the best job of it today,” she added quickly when she felt him start to interrupt, “but I’ll just have to be more careful. I can do this. I have to do this.”

“Why?” he asked, his frustration clear. “Why do you have to do this on your own? I wouldn’t want to be on my own in a situation like this with no one having my back.”

“But you would do it if you had to, wouldn’t you? And I bet no one would question your ability to.”

“That’s not what I’m doing—”

“Yes, it is. And I can’t depend on you or Adam or anyone else to save me.” Even she could hear the note of desperation in the words and wished she could take them back.

He was silent for a long moment. “This isn’t really about me not thinking you can take of yourself, is it? It’s about proving it to yourself.”

She couldn’t answer, the admission too humiliating.

“What is this really about? Brad?”

Damn. She should have known he’d figure it out. “I can’t be that weak again,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

He fell quiet again. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “You said you were married to Brad for four years. How much of that time was he hurting you?”

Meredith sucked in a breath against the sudden onslaught of memories. “He always had a temper, but we’d been married about six months the first time he hit me.”

From his silence, he was letting that piece of information sink in. “Why didn’t you leave him sooner?” he asked, his voice rough.

A lump lodged her throat. She knew the answer. She’d spent plenty of time thinking about those years and her own motivations during them. That didn’t mean it was any easier to admit.

She had to force the words out. “Because I loved him.” She nearly winced, knowing how stupid and pathetic and utterly absurd that had to sound. “I know that doesn’t make sense. How could anyone love somebody who’d do that...who’d treat them like that? But I did. He was everything to me. From the first time I saw him I was amazed that somebody that handsome and confident would be interested in me.” She swallowed against the humiliation she could feel climbing in her throat. “Sometimes I wonder how much I felt for him was just awe. I never thought someone like that would give me the time of day, and when he did, there was a part of me that was just pathetically grateful for the attention.”

“Why wouldn’t he have given you the time of day?”

“He was way, way out of my league.” She shook her head. “You don’t remember him, what he looked like.”

“I don’t need to. I know what you look like.”

She started to shake her head. “You don’t have to say that—”

“I know I don’t. And I’m not just saying it.” He reached down and caught her chin with his forefinger, tilted her face up to peer into her eyes. “Have I given you any reason to doubt that I think you’re an incredibly sexy woman?” A grin touched his lips, his blue eyes darkening with desire. “Because if I did, I can try harder.”

Her leg was slung over his, and against her thigh she felt the growing proof of his arousal.

“I believe you.” She smiled. “But that’s how I felt. How I always felt around him. And since I never really felt like I was good enough, it was easier to accept that when he got angry it was my fault. And those times when he did look at me and smile, I was always so happy, and I’d forget how awful and terrifying he could be. Everything seemed worth it when he smiled or seemed happy, like I had done something right, like he was happy with me. If he wasn’t, I would just have to try harder, and then everything would be okay.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No,” she admitted quietly.

“What made you finally leave?”

She swallowed hard. “I was in the hospital. Brad...he broke my jaw and a couple of bones in my face. And I had some bruised ribs. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t really move. Mrs. Hagerty, our neighbor, found me. She knew what had been happening, had tried to get me to do something, but...I didn’t. When she didn’t see me leave the house that morning, she came over. She called an ambulance and they took me to the hospital. They kept me overnight for a few days. And even then, I remember lying in that hospital bed wondering what was wrong with me, why I couldn’t make him happy. Why he couldn’t love me enough not to...” The words stuck in her throat.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Tom said fiercely. “It was that bastard’s.”

“I know that. Now,” she added faintly. She cleared her throat. “Adam, my brother, found out. I hadn’t told him about any of it, hadn’t wanted to admit what had been happening. I think subconsciously I knew he would have tried to get me out and I still wanted Brad. But when I was in the hospital, Adam tried to get in touch with me. Brad wouldn’t tell him where I was, but he managed to reach Mrs. Hagerty, who did.”

She pulled in a ragged breath. “I still remember when he came into my room and saw me for the first time. He didn’t even look angry. He was just...devastated. He actually started to cry, and if you ever met Adam he’s the last guy you’d ever expect to cry. I had never seen him do that before. And I remembered I did have somebody who loved me.

“He got me out of there and we stayed in a hotel while I recovered. He wouldn’t let me go home, even to pick up my belongings. I think he was afraid Brad might try to convince me to stay, and if that failed, get violent again. He was probably right. He took care of that for me. Got what I wanted from the house for me. Found me an attorney. He saved me when I couldn’t save myself.”

She swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat. “I guess I’m just that weak.”

His arm tightened around her, drawing her closer to him. “Maybe you were, but you’re not now.”

She exhaled softly. “I don’t know about that.”

“Are you kidding? ‘Weak’ is the last thing I would call the woman who’s been in charge here the past several days.”

Doubt flickered through her. “I was just doing what I had to.”

“Isn’t that what strong people do?”

She’d never thought of it that way. Maybe it really was just as simple as that. “I guess so.”

He brushed a kiss against the top of her head. “I’m glad you got away,” he said roughly, his voice thick with emotion.

She turned her face into his chest, deeply breathing in the scent of him. No matter what happened after this terrible weekend, she would never forget this—the smell that was purely, distinctively his, the way his body felt, the sound of his voice softened with tenderness and the rumble of his heartbeat. She closed her eyes, grateful to have had this moment. “Me, too,” she whispered.

“I still hate the idea of leaving you.”

At the moment she wasn’t particularly looking forward to that, either. “Guess I’ll just have to be strong, right?”

She felt him smile. “I’m not worried about that,” he said. “But whoever is doing this is clearly dangerous. If they do come after you, you might not be able to fight them off again, especially since they know what to expect now. You could be hurt. Or worse...”

The words cut off abruptly. His body tensed against her, as though even talking about the possibility bothered him.

“If the killer does have another target, then the fact that we could be getting out of here soon might make them act again, before their intended victim can get away or the police arrive to stop them.”

He was right. The killer had purposely, deliberately come here with a plan to kill people. The same person who’d brought the knives to accomplish that mission wasn’t going to stop until that mission was completed.

“So I need to make it impossible for them to do that.”

“But how are you going to do that?”

An idea suddenly sparked in her mind. Excitement rushing through her, she smiled slowly. “You want somebody looking out for me? Well, I know exactly who it should be.”

“Who?”

“All of them.”