by Cathie Linz
“You look like Bo Regard over there.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Hunter said.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”
In her eagerness to avoid further exposure to temptation, Gaylynn would have exceeded the posted speed limits just a smidgen were it not for the fact that she had a police officer in her passenger seat. As it was, the drive took a lengthy five minutes.
“Here you are,” she noted with false cheerfulness. “Door-to-door chauffeur service.”
Instead of getting out, Hunter said, “While you’re here why don’t you come on in and meet my deputy. His feelings will be hurt if you don’t.”
Her hopes of a fast getaway were fading fast. Besides, she still hadn’t had the opportunity to check out the abandoned library building. And the more Hunter tried to keep her away from it, the more determined she was to find it. Perhaps not today, but soon.
Hunter’s deputy, Charlie Carberry, turned out to be a squeaky-clean-cut, very polite young man with a nervously bobbing Adam’s apple who was actually more interested in going on his lunch hour than passing the time of day with her. “Nice to meet you,” he said with a tip of his cap. “I’ll be going to lunch now, Hunter. It’s my day for Hazel’s Hash House.”
“What did he mean by that?” Gaylynn asked after Charlie left.
“We alternate between the two restaurants. That way no one’s feelings get hurt.”
“You mean because of the feud between the Rues and the Montgomeries?”
“Ah, you heard about that, did you?”
She nodded.
Instead of going into more detail about it, he changed the subject. “So what do you think of my stomping grounds?”
“Tack a few girlie posters on the wall and it would look just like your old tree house.”
Hunter grinned at her tart comment. This was the Gaylynn he knew and loved. Whoa there, he ordered his runaway thoughts. Love? Where had that come from? Is that what was wrong with him? No way! Falling for Gaylynn would be like eating gunpowder—you know it’s going to detonate. And he knew Gaylynn was going back to her life in Chicago sooner or later. Both scenarios were liable to leave him hurting if he was foolish enough to expose himself to harm.
But damn, she looked good in those jeans.
“So are you going to show me your weapons?” she inquired mockingly. “Or is that only with the more expensive tour?”
He imagined her touring his body with those supple fingers of hers, fingers devoid of rings or nail polish.
Seeing the dazed look in his eyes, she said, “Yo, Hunter, are you feeling okay?”
“Absolutely,” he said with only slightly less than his usual certainty. “Want to see my extra-heavy-duty handcuffs?” He tugged open the top drawer and dangled them in front of her.
“Can I use ‘em on you?” she inquired.
Not trusting that fiendish gleam in her eye one bitwas it caused by passion or anticipation of getting even with him for that gum in her hair all those years ago?-he heard himself saying, “Only if we’re in bed.”
Her eyes widened. Did he really mean that? Or was he just pulling her leg? That naughty grin made it hard for her to tell.
Looking away, she asked, “So where are your ‘wanted’ pictures?”
“Bessie has some over near the post-office corner.”
“She said she has to keep Floyd from drawing mustaches on them.”
“He has an unusual sense of humor,” Hunter acknowledged.
“Like someone else I know,” Gaylynn muttered. “You’re not doing a very good job as a tour guide, you know.”
“Sorry.” He dropped the cuffs back in the top desk drawer and closed it. “There’s not all that much to see, actually. This is the office, pretty standard. Two desks, phones, one fax machine, filing cabinets and the rest of your regulation office equipment. We have one holding cell in the back—” He opened a door to show it to her. “That door over there leads to the john. The radio room is here—it’s more like a radio closet actually. And that’s about it.”
Gaylynn had gotten progressively quieter as the tour progressed. Seeing him in such official surroundings brought home the fact that he was a man who carried a gun for a living.
“Something wrong?” he asked her.
Gaylynn shook her head, reminding herself that Lonesome Gap wasn’t Chicago and Hunter wasn’t exposed to the dangers here that he was up there. But still, all it took was one crazed person.
She closed her eyes and gathered her composure.
“So are you aiming on heading straight on back to the cabin now?” he asked her.
Opening her eyes, she nodded.
“Maybe I’ll see you later on, then,” he said, brushing his fingers down her cheek.
She wondered if he’d done that just to distract her. If so, it worked.
Gaylynn had actually given up her plans for scouting out the old library building that afternoon, but when circumstances unfolded in such a way that she got the opportunity, she took it. With both hands.
She passed the turnoff to the library on her way home. The sign was rusty and almost illegible, but she saw it. And she took the turn.
The brick building was locked. Weeds grew along the steps leading to the front door. Was the place empty or was it still full of books? Noticing the high-set windows along the side wall, Gaylynn couldn’t resist taking a peek. Which meant pulling herself up to peer in the dirt-smeared windows. It took her three tries before she succeeded at what amounted to doing a chinup a foot off the grassy ground. She had one foot wedged against the basement window frame for leverage.
She’d just gotten high enough to get a quick look when she suddenly felt a pair of broad male hands span her waist. Before she could scream, Hunter drawled, “And what do you think you’re doing?”
Seven
“Me?” Gaylynn shrieked in anger. “What do you think you ‘re doing?” she demanded as he easily held her with her feet dangling a few inches off the ground.
“Looks like I’m catching a trespasser,” Hunter replied.
She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but her movements only served to increase the intimacy of their embrace. Her fanny was inadvertently rubbing against the placket of his pants.
“Are you resisting arrest, ma’am?” he asked in a husky whisper.
She was trying to resist the excitement shooting through her system. He’d parted his legs to brace himself, so there was no mistaking the way his body was responding to hers. She could feel his taut arousal burning through the back of her jeans. Just when she thought her heart would leap from her breast, he put her down, only to turn her in his arms so that they were now face-to-face.
“You’re in a heap of trouble,” he whispered.
“I can tell,” she whispered in return.
Gaylynn couldn’t help herself. She had the strongest urge to kiss him. So she did.
The moment had been building since they’d shared that long heated look at the cafe, the one that could melt steel.
At first her lips merely brushed his with playful intent. He allowed her to tease him this way for several seconds before deepening the pressure of his mouth against hers with a gentle charm that drove her lips apart and allowed him entrance.
Instead of pressing his advantage immediately, he paused to tantalize the corner of her mouth with a string of kisses. Then he focused erotic sips, teasing nips and sweet swirls of his tongue on the lushness of her lower lip.
By now Gaylynn was trembling in her shoes, not from fear but from need. She needed to have him kiss her, not merely sample her as if she were a fine wine. She was all set to speak her thoughts when Hunter interpreted them on his own, homing in on her mouth and devouring it with a darkly erotic kiss of infinite duration.
His mouth slanted against hers with hungry impa tience as he threaded his fingers through her silky hair to cup the back of her head, bracing her against the reverent intrusion of his probing tongue.
G
aylynn slid her arms around his waist and leaned into the kiss, depending on him as much as her own two legs to hold her upright. The circle of his arms grew smaller as he molded her more tightly against him.
One of his hands remained entangled in her hair while the other slid down her back to cup her bottom and tug her against him—so that not even the spring breeze fit between them.
She wanted him with a hunger and desperation that shocked her.made her forget where she was, who she was. All she cared about was kissing him, being kissed by him, exploring the contours of his body, learning what pleased him. She could feel his reaction when she tickled the roof of his mouth with her tongue. He liked that. So did she.
One kiss blended directly into the next with a fluid interplay that left her trembling. He sipped at her mouth. Then he slanted his parted lips over hers, his tongue stroking hers familiarly, boldly, intimately.
His hands were as busy as his mouth, always moving, surveying her feminine curves with silent appreciation. When he tugged her red T-shirt from the waistband of her jeans, she sighed in anticipation. Teasing her, he let several seconds elapse before sliding his hand beneath the knit cotton material to rest against her bare skin. She shivered with delight.
Finally! Finally he was touching her, bare skin to bare skin, his fingertips leisurely strolling up her back. She wanted to hurry him along. So she tried to tug his shirt from the belted waistband of his slacks. Nothing happened. His shirt remained where it was.
She got distracted by the fact that he was kissing his way from her mouth to the curve of her ear. The warm moistness of his breath nearly undid her. So did the curve of his hand as he stole beneath her arm to brush the side of her breast. The silky material of her bra did more to amplify his touch than to protect her from it.
Not that she wanted protecting. She didn’t. She wanted to explore him the way he was exploring her. She lowered her hands from his shoulders to his chest, but she longed to feel the warmth of his bare skin instead of the warmth of his shirt.
Buttons. Her fingers went in search of them. She managed to get two undone before she came undone as he nibbled her earlobe, gently blowing and then swirling his tongue along the shell-like curve. A simple caress to enflame such pleasure. In all her twenty-nine years, no one had ever kissed her like that before. This was a first she shared with Hunter.
She wanted to share more. Excitement burned within her. The muffled sound of a “wuff” barely registered on the frayed edges of her composure. But the feel of a wet nose pressed against the small of her bare back was enough to make her gasp in surprise and break off their heated embrace.
“Wha. at?” Gaylynn barely recognized the bloodhound in an upright position. She’d only seen him horizontal. “I’ve never seen Bo Regard up before,” she said in surprise.
“He’s not the only one who’s up,” Hunter mattered, drawing in a ragged breath. To the dog he said, “Go away, Bo.”
The bloodhound replied with a woof and sat back on its haunches, about a foot away from them.
“What are you doing out here?” Gaylynn asked.
“Are you talking to me or to the dog?” Hunter retorted.
“Both of you.”
“Well, I can’t speak for Bo Regard,” he said solemnly, “but I’m here to keep you out of trouble.”
Instead of responding to his claim, she asked, “Who has the keys to the padlock on the library door?”
“Well, I do, but-”
“That’s great! Then you can open the building up while you’re here and I can take a look inside.”
“Now, Gaylynn, you don’t want to go getting involved in this,” he said.
“Yes, I do,” she interrupted him. “Come on, open it up.”
“Okay.” He opened his mouth as if he were at the dentist, sticking his tongue out at her and wiggling it for extra measure.
“Very funny! You know I meant the library building.”
It was all Hunter could do to hide a huge smile. His plan was working!
Careful to keep an outwardly disapproving look on his face, he moved toward the padlocked front door with marked reluctance. “I don’t know about this.”
“Well, I do,” she stated firmly. “Come on, hurry up and unlock it.”
“The place was been boarded up for five years, Gaylynn. It’s not going anywhere.”
But she would be going somewhere, he thought to himself. Going back to her city home. Already there was a change in her, a newfound purpose. Which was as it should be. That was what he wanted, right? Despite the kisses they’d just shared, kisses powerful enough to practically melt his regulation shoes.
His brooding gaze settled on Gaylynn once more. She was standing beneath the carved wooden sign that said Lonesome Gap Lending Library. Seeing her curious look at it, Hunter said, “Floyd made that. Back in the forties, I think. He used to do a lot of woodcarving before his eyes went bad on him.”
When he finally removed the padlock and opened the creaky door, Gaylynn hurried to move past him, but he held her arm. “Watch out for snakes. Not to mention mice and spiders.”
“All of which I’ve had in my classroom at one time or another as part of some natural science project.”
“Running. loose?”
“At times,” she acknowledged with a rueful smile.
Actually, Hunter had already checked the place out the day before, but he didn’t want her knowing that.
Gaylynn’s attention was focused on the inside of the building, which naturally was dusty—but that was to be expected. Cobwebs hung from the ceilings, like those decorating the haunted house that was set up at her neighborhood church every Halloween. Only these suckers were the real thing.
Reminding herself that she’d once had a daddy longlegs as a pet, she moved forward.
The place looked as if it had been hastily closed. Chairs were still pulled out around a wooden table. A clock on the wall was stuck at three minutes after three. Layers of dust covered everything. White sheets, now turned gray, had been tossed over most of the bookcases, which were for the most part empty of books.
A loud sneeze had her saying, “Gesundheit” before she realized that it was Bo Regard who’d sneezed. He was laying on the threshold and, with the exuberance of his sneeze, somehow one of his long ears had ended up clear over on the other side of his head. The dog looked so startled that Gaylynn had to laugh.
Hunter almost kissed her again there and then. Seducing her isn’t part of the plan, he firmly reminded himself.
Aloud he said, “Seen enough?”
“Where are all the books?”
“I believe they were put in the safe keeping of the Ladies Auxiliary League. You’d have to check with Ma Battle.”
“I aim to,” Gaylynn replied just like a native.
Hunter could already see her making plans for the place. “You didn’t come down here to the mountains to work,” he reminded her.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said with an absent pat to his cheek. “You go on back to the sheriff’s office and I’ll lock up.”
“Wiping the dusty smudge she’d inadvertently left on his cheek, Hunter couldn’t stop his grin from showing this time. “I’ll leave Bo Regard here to keep you company.”
“That’s nice.”
“The two of you don’t do any pirouettes up on the rooftop now, y’hear,” he drawled, knowing darn well that Gaylynn wasn’t listening to a word he said.
“We won’t,” she murmured.
Hooking an arm around her waist, Hunter tugged her to him and planted a smacking kiss on her startled lips. “Welcome back,” he whispered, running his fingertips down her cheek. A second later he was gone.
“That man is going to drive me to distraction,” Gaylynn told Bo Regard.
“I heard that,” Hunter called from outside.
“Good,” she shouted back. “I meant you to!”
Satisfied that she’d gotten in the last word, she focused her attention on listing what had to be done
to get the library open again, even if on a limited basis. It felt good to have a project to focus on again.
“I thought that was your car I saw over here,” Bessie Twitty noted from the doorway. “I left Floyd minding the store while I moseyed over here to see what was what. Hello there, Bo Regard. You getting curious in your old age?”
“Is he a very old dog?” Gaylynn asked. “Is that why he’s so. sedentary?”
“Is that a dog disease or something?” Bessie asked suspiciously.
“No, the term can apply to people, too.”
“Well, to answer your question, no one rightly knows how old Bo Regard is, but it’s somewhere around four years or so. He just is picky about where he goes visiting. If’n he likes a place, he just plunks hisself down and stays there for a long spell. Not a bad life, if you ask me.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
“So what do you think of the lending library? The place has gotten kinda rundown over the years.”
“I can see that. Tell me more about the library,” Gaylynn requested. “Who do you think could benefit most by its being reopened again?”
“Why, the children, of course. They used it before and I’m sure they would use it again. The little ones used to sit around on the floor while Miz Russell would sit in that big rocking chair over there in the corner and read to them from a fancy picture book.”
“Hunter said that the Ladies Auxiliary League is storing the books.”
“That’s right. I’m a member, so is Ma Battle. There are a dozen or so of us, mostly from right here in Lonesome Gap, but some from a bit farther out, from the small farms scattered around.”
“Would the Ladies Auxiliary League be interested in helping me clean the place up?”
“I suppose so. What for?”
“To reopen the library.”
“With you as the librarian? Why, that’s a wonderful idea!” Bessie exclaimed, giving Gaylynn an exuberant hug. “So things worked out just as Hunter wanted, after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Bessie hurriedly said. “My mouth runs away from me sometimes and I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Wait a minute! Are you saying that Hunter wanted me to be the librarian here? That he wanted me to reopen the library?”