Page 47 of Lone Star Rescue

“That’s a lot of yard to monitor,” she muttered, her gaze sweeping around the pasture where he kept a couple of Andalusian horses.

“It is. The clearing around the house is an acre,” he explained. “No trees or shrubs for anyone to duck behind if they managed to dodge the security sensors.” Which wasn’t very likely. Rafe knew because he’d personally tested them.

“No mansion like Wade,” she added as she approached the house.

“No,” he agreed. It was a two-story stone Craftsman that he’d designed from the ground up, and he’d meant it to be functional, secure, and comfortable.

“Park in the garage,” he instructed and used his phone to open the garage doors of the space that was almost as large as the bottom floor of the house.

“Man toys,” she said, taking in the Jeep, the ATV, two motorcycles, one street-ready and the other off-road, and even a small RV.

“Work toys,” he corrected.

She glanced at him. “Yes, like the assignment Jericho mentioned.”

Rafe settled for a nod though he hadn’t carried any of the vehicles there. Ruby had arranged for those on-site.

Bree parked the cruiser in the bare spot usually occupied by his truck that he’d left back at her place. He immediately closed the garage doors, and they went inside through a larger than usual mudroom area where there were various boots and gear for pretty much any season or weather. He did a voice command to reset the security system.

She stopped and touched a military jacket that still had his Combat Rescue Officer badge on it. “I looked up info on your career field,” she said, running her fingers over the emblem that had an angel embracing the globe with the motto “That others may live” emblazoned beneath it. “Another term for CRO is Guardian Angel. It’s what some people call Maverick Ops’ operatives.”

“Yeah,” he verified. And he had no idea why her just mentioning it brought some old emotions to the surface. He pushed those away fast and led her through to the kitchen.

As advertised, it was stocked to the hilt. Not just the huge fridge but also the pantry.

“Wow,” she muttered taking it all in. “Blue. I figured you’d go with something more basic.”

The cabinets were indeed a dark blue with white marble countertops. “I went with something that wouldn’t show dirt,” he said.

But it was more than that. Apparently, he wasn’t a basic kind of guy when it came to his home. That’s why the front of his fridge was also a security monitor. As they walked through, he saw the split screen that rotated the views of all twelve of the cameras.

“There’s a work area in the living room,” he said, pointing to the adjoining room. “A desktop, laptop, headphones, et cetera.” He then pointed to the back stairs that fed off the kitchen. “The guestroom is the first one on the right. If you decide to stay, I’ll get your go-bag from the cruiser.”

Bree made a sound of almost idle agreement and wandered into the living room. Rafe silently cursed when he saw her make a beeline to the large stone fireplace. And the pictures on the mantel.

Hell.

He’d forgotten all about them, and they were some photos he hadn’t especially wanted her to see.

She started at one end, her gaze combing over the pictures of his graduation from high school. Bree was in that one. Tessa, too. But Bree was the focus and not just because she was in the center. It was because in the shot, Rafe was looking at her while Tessa focused solely on the camera. And it wasn’t any ordinary look he was giving Bree either.

The heat was there, even then.

She swallowed hard but didn’t look at him. Bree just moved on to the next photo. One of him and his classmates in uniform after surviving hell week CRO training. They were filthy, exhausted, and damn happy since the CRO training had a sixty percent washout rate.

Bree moved on, and he knew the next one was going to pique her interest. It was him with two other CROs. Not filthy and exhausted in this one but a shot taken right before a deployment. In this one, he was in the middle, and on his right was a young female lieutenant. On his left was a grinning captain.

“You were stationed with them,” she said, looking back at him.

He nodded and kept it at just that. A bare confirmation. Rafe definitely wasn’t planning to spill details of the scar that went all the way through him.

“Let me get us something to eat,” he said, “and if you have any bandwidth left after a high-carb meal, we can do some work.”

Her gaze stayed fixed to his for a moment, as if she might press him for more about that photo. But she sighed. “Sounds good. You want some help?”

“No, I got it.” He needed a moment alone. Time to make sure the barrier between the present and the past was firmly in place.

Bree muttered a thanks and went to the sofa, sinking down on it. She made a sigh of pleasure, one that helped with the barriers because it was a sound that caused him to think of sex. Then again, sex was often on his mind whenever he was around Bree.

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