The Texas Lawman's Woman

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The Texas Lawman's Woman Page 8

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  Not that he did.

  He’d achieved success the old-fashioned way, by scrimping and saving, and putting his money toward things that counted—like his dog, his house and his truck.

  “Does this have anything to do with the complaint that New York couple lodged against you?” Rio asked. “For rushing Mr. Zellecky to the hospital instead of hauling him off to jail?”

  Yes, Colt thought, and no.

  Aware he had also promised his boss he would continue to keep the internal affairs investigation quiet in exchange for Ben Shepherd instructing Investigator Adams to keep Colt’s family and friends out of any ensuing ugliness, he wasn’t at liberty to confide in Rio.

  Unfortunately, that meant continuing to keep Shelley in the dark, too. Hence, Colt had found it easier to avoid her the past couple of days, rather than face any more questions—or be put in a situation where he had to edit his every word to her. Bad enough he was having to do it now to Rio.

  “Investigator Adams is going through old files and incident reports, looking for any signs of procedural irregularity. You know that.”

  Rio grimaced. “I also know they were all cases you were personally or peripherally involved in.”

  “Hence, the interrogation. She’s assured me she’ll eventually get around to looking into the actions of everyone else on staff, too.”

  Rio went silent. “In the six months she’s been here, she’s never focused on just one officer. It’s been more of a daily, procedural review of the department at large.”

  Colt waved at the wedding planner walking into the community chapel, indicating he and Rio would be there momentarily. “And she’s yet to find anything.”

  “Exactly the point. You know how tight the county’s budget has been in recent years. The word is if Investigator Adams doesn’t find something soon, she and her large paycheck will be shown the door.”

  “Maybe that’s what needs to happen.” Maybe they needed to go back to the sheriff supervising the ethics of the department.

  Rio frowned in a way that reminded Colt that the other officer had once had his own problems in this regard, when he’d been too soft on a local resident who’d been going through a hard time. “You sure you don’t need a lawyer helping you with this?”

  Colt saw no reason to hire someone to defend him when he’d done nothing wrong. “I’m sure,” he said firmly.

  Patricia Wilson emerged from the chapel. She glared at Colt and Rio and pointed at her watch.

  Colt turned off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. “Looks like they’re waiting on us,” he said, gesturing toward the wedding planner. “We better go before Shelley comes out to read us the riot act, too.”

  Not that he would mind seeing the spark of indignation in her pretty green eyes and the flush on her cheeks. Not that he would mind having a moment alone with her at all.

  “What do you mean we have to dance?” he asked when they came face-to-face inside the chapel.

  Shelley had expected the news she had just delivered would be met with mixed reviews. Not surprisingly, the lawman with two left feet had taken it worst of all.

  Trying not to think about the fact that Colt had been avoiding her since his parents’ unexpected visit, Shelley explained, “Kendall and Gerry have decided they want to do a nontraditional procession to the altar. Or, in other words, they want to record everyone dancing down the aisle, like in that YouTube video. And I promised them I would choreograph it for them.”

  Shelley’s pulse raced under the intensity of Colt’s gaze. You would think by the way he was drinking her in with his eyes that he had really missed her. But how could that be the case? When he lived right down the street and could have just stopped by and said hello to her when he’d been out walking Buddy each evening after work.

  Not that she should be surprised, Shelley thought, since it wasn’t the first time he had found better things to do with his time than hang out with her.

  Aware everyone was waiting for her to continue, Shelley pointed to the aisle they would be using for the processional during the actual ceremony. “So, I thought it would be the best way to rehearse it here.” She plucked a stack of papers off a pew and began handing them out. “I’ve also typed up the basic steps we’ll be using, with diagrams outlining the moves, and made copies of the song on CD, so you-all can practice at home. And of course we’ll go over it one more time with Kendall and Gerry the night of the actual wedding rehearsal.”

  A murmur of assent went through the assembled group.

  Shelley smiled. “Also, the bride and groom really want this to be a surprise to all their guests, so mum is the word. Okay, everyone?”

  Thankfully, everyone picked up the simple dance quickly except for one person. Not surprisingly, Colt was still stressed out about it when the session concluded. She walked out to the parking lot with him.

  “It really isn’t all that hard,” Shelley told him.

  He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Says the professional dancer.”

  “All you need is a little more practice. Maybe a private lesson or two?” She shrugged, then took a risk, telling herself she was doing this for Kendall and Gerry. “I’ve got time tonight if we do it back at my house.”

  To Shelley’s frustration, her offer seemed to rouse his ire even more. “I appreciate the extra effort, but it’s not going to help. I can’t dance. And after what just went down in there—” he stabbed a finger in the direction of the chapel interior “—I would think you’d know that.”

  Shelley had heard the same complaint from virtually every man who had been dragged to group lessons with his wife. “Everyone can dance.”

  His jaw clenched. “Not me.”

  “Yes, you.”

  They stared at each other, silently waging battle. Eventually, she won. “Fine,” Colt said, stalking over to his pickup truck. “I’ll prove it to you.”

  Shelley shook her head ruefully as she headed for her Prius. “My house in five.”

  When they arrived, the babysitter was waiting for them. Shelley paid her, and the high school senior headed out. Shelley took the CD over to the stereo in the living room. She gestured for him to help her move the coffee table and ottoman out of the way.

  “Will this wake Austin?”

  Shelley went over to the armoire and rummaged through the shelves, finally emerging with what she needed. “No. We had really noisy neighbors at our previous apartment, so once he’s down for the night, he sleeps through everything. He won’t be awake until seven tomorrow morning.”

  Shelley marked off the center of the room with two rolls of bright blue painter’s tape. “We’ll pretend this is the aisle. So we’ll start back here.” She took Colt by the hand and led him to the starting point. Then, remote in hand, started the stereo.

  The first four steps were a simple boogie.

  As he had at the church, Colt tripped all over himself trying to approximate the movements. “The problem is you’re not feeling the beat,” Shelley explained.

  “No surprise there, since I can never figure out where it is.”

  “Of course you can.” She stepped beside him and laced her arm around his waist. Hands on his hips, she attempted to move his body to the bass. Twice to the left, twice to the right.

  He was all over the place.

  Shelley frowned. His stiffness had him moving clumsily between and on the beats. “Stop resisting me.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m not trying to fight you.”

  “Yes, you are. Look into my eyes, Colt. Put your hands on me.” She shifted his palms over her hips. “Feel this. Feel how the music is one with my body. See the pulsing...”

  “Yeah...”

  “Now you do it, too.”

  He tried to imitate her and promptly went off the beat again.


  Shelley had an idea. One she never would have used on an ordinary client. But something that probably would work with him. Or at least get him in a more cooperative frame of mind. “Pretend we’re um...you know...”

  He didn’t.

  She cleared her throat. “Getting it on.”

  Laughter rumbled from his chest. “Excuse me?”

  Shelley decided showing was better than telling in this instance.

  “Instead of moving side to side, move front to back.”

  “Don’t you mean up and in?”

  “Wiseguy.”

  “Hey,” he chided softly, letting her know with a smoldering look that making love was something he not only clearly knew how to do, but excelled at.

  “That’s it,” Shelley encouraged, her hands still on his hips, and his intimately clasping hers. “Pretend you and I are making love. And this is the way I want you.” She rocked gently back and forth, keeping to the beat of the music. “And to be with me, you have to move the way I am.”

  Presto. He was right on target. Right on the beat. So was she.

  And that was the moment when everything changed for the better. Colt’s arms moved up to encircle her spine, his head lowered, and their lips met in a fiery kiss that had been a long, long time coming. A kiss that wouldn’t mean anything tomorrow, but meant everything to her now.

  Shelley caught her breath and opened her mouth to the plundering pressure of his lips and tongue. A thrill soared through her, sending whispers of pleasure through her entire body. Yearning spiraled, need flourished and passion won out.

  Suddenly, it didn’t matter what they were trying to accomplish here. All she cared about was the touch and taste and feel of him as he clasped her to him in one long demanding line. Held against him this way, she felt all woman to his man.

  She felt as if her future was spread out before her like an invitation to happiness unlike any she had ever experienced.

  And, sensible or not, she wanted that contentment, wanted to feel cared for, to be touched and held and yes, physically loved and wanted, more than she could say. She wanted what she’d always felt they were destined to have....

  Colt hadn’t come over here tonight expecting either of them to end up in each other’s arms. Then again, maybe he should have known it wouldn’t take much for the considerable sparks between them to ignite again. The truth was, he’d always wanted Shelley. Had from the very first second he had ever laid eyes on her. And, for long after they had broken up, she had remained the woman he most wanted to have in his life, in his heart, in his bed.

  And now here they were again, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing as though there was no tomorrow. Only tonight. Only this moment in time. And damned if he wasn’t determined to put aside all past hurts and make the most of the opportunity to get close to her again, to let her know she was safe with him and always would be.

  He’d hurt her once. He never would again.

  The muscles in his body banded tight, he lifted his head. Giving her the out he felt duty bound to offer. “Maybe we should stop...”

  She smiled in a way that made his heart soften around the edges a little more. “And maybe we shouldn’t....” she whispered back.

  She went up on tiptoe, mouth open, her tongue as avid as the rest of her supple form. He felt her nipples pressing through the soft fabric of her blouse while her hips rocked forward, and he was acutely aware that her knees were parting slightly, even now.

  His body hardened all the more, proof of how much he wanted to be buried deep inside her.

  She nipped at his neck. “Come upstairs with me, Colt.”

  He grinned devilishly. “If you insist...”

  The old Shelley had been determined, stubborn, and...when it came to love...reckless to a fault.

  The new Shelley was even more so...

  Colt couldn’t say he minded. She brought out the rebel in him, too. Her breath fast yet surprisingly steady, she took him by the hand. Bypassing the master suite where she now clearly bunked, to her old room. The one with the white provincial twin bed that would barely fit one of them, never mind both.

  Heart pounding, he lifted a curious brow.

  She smiled. “If we’re finally going to fulfill our teenage fantasies after all these years—” she looked at him wantonly “—we have to do it here, Colt.”

  Colt couldn’t say he hadn’t wanted the same. Many nights he had lain awake, imagining taking the ultimate step to oneness with her, right here. Imagining the heat, the passion of making love with her.

  A dancer, who was so aware and so at ease with her body, she didn’t disappoint. Pirouetting gracefully away from him, Shelley shut the door gently behind them, switched on a lamp. Soft light spilling from atop the dresser, she came toward him, toeing off her shoes as she went.

  Her fingers found the buttons.

  He let her do her shirt, because it was just so electrifying watching her do a slow striptease just for him, then took over when it came to her bra. Finding her breasts as luscious and round and full, her nipples the same delicate rose as he recalled, he bent his head. She tasted every bit as good as he remembered, too, and the soft sound of longing that escaped her throat went through him like fire. It reminded him of all the hours they’d spent in the throes of teenage passion, all the days and nights they’d done everything short of actually make love. And the night they hadn’t followed their plans and taken it to the next level. He owed it to her to make all her dreams come true. Which was why, he knew, they couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now. Not, he swore vehemently to himself, like this.

  * * *

  SHELLEY BLINKED AND GRABBED the gingham bedspread. She sank down on the blanket and pressed it over her chest, barring most of her soft, silken skin from view. Which was a good thing, Colt noted. Otherwise he might change his mind. His body was lobbying for that even now.

  “What do you mean, you’ve changed your mind?”

  Colt sat down beside her. If ever there had been a time for strength of character, this was it, unquenched desire or no. “I can’t take advantage of you this way,” he told her gruffly.

  She bit her lip, looking as though she didn’t know whether to kiss him or punch him. “Has it escaped your memory that I invited you up here?” Her cheeks flushed a delectable pink. “That I gave you every indication I wanted this?” To demonstrate, she ran a silken finger down his chest, past his waist.

  He caught her wandering hand in his before it could reach his fly. “Only to prove a point,” he countered, glad he hadn’t undressed, ’cause if he had...

  Her mouth dropped open, as if she couldn’t possibly have heard him right. “Wh-what?”

  He tightened his grip on her, and kept her there when she would have moved away. “I get that you’re trying to confirm you’re desirable,” he told her gently. “And heaven only knows, Shelley, you are.”

  As always, she took what he was trying to say all wrong. Her breasts lifted in righteous indignation. “Well, it’s nice to know you want me even if you don’t want me,” she sputtered.

  “What I want is for you to want more for yourself,” Colt told her, impatient as ever when she acted on emotion instead of common sense. “What I want is for you to stop settling for less than you deserve.”

  The tension between them was palpable. She wrested her hand from his grip and ran her fingers playfully over top of his jean-clad thigh. She sent him a sidelong glance that could have persuaded him to do damn near anything, if he weren’t so set on protecting her, that was.

  She goaded him with a soft, sexy smile. “I thought I was going to get that. Right now. Right here. With you.”

  If only he could follow his baser notions.

  Colt lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then the inside of her wrist. He savored the fragrance o
f her perfume and the silken warmth of her skin. And told himself, for tonight anyway, it would have to be enough.

  “You were only going to get a portion of what you deserve tonight, Shelley.” And much as he was reluctant to admit it, the physical would only go so far toward satisfying her, heart and soul. That, Colt knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  Surprised she didn’t seem to require more from him—from whatever this rekindled relationship of theirs was now turning into—he gruffly continued. “Don’t you want what Kendall and Gerry have?” Didn’t everyone—deep down?

  Skepticism curled the corners of her lips. “An incredibly deep, everlasting love that will carry me and my ‘beloved’ through whatever life throws at us? Sure, in theory, I want that.”

  So he wasn’t the only one who was bitter, deep down, post divorce. “And in practicality?” Colt pressed, more enamored of her than ever.

  The veil of seductiveness slowly fell away from her eyes. “In practicality, Colt, I don’t believe a love like that exists. Not for me, anyway, and certainly not for me and you as a couple. Which is why I want to enjoy a passionate fling with you.”

  “And the reason being...?” he asked, desperately trying to grasp her logic.

  “Because I haven’t had sex in God only knows how long and being around you makes me want to have sex. And since everything else in my life is going all to heck, I just figure...” She paused long enough to look him straight in the eye, honest now, honest and sad. “Why shouldn’t I do something that will at least make me feel good on some level?”

  Aha, now they were getting to the heart of the matter.

  Understanding dawning on him, Colt drawled, “I’m guessing you haven’t heard from the bank that foreclosed on the house.”

  Shelley threaded a weary hand through her silky auburn hair. Her shoulders slumped and she sat back against the headboard. “No. I did. Right before I went to the church.”

  “I’m guessing it wasn’t good news,” he said.

  She winced. “You guessed right. Bank officials apparently talked to Tully to get his side of things. And he said that obviously there was some confusion. Of course I knew what was going on. That I was all for him using the house as collateral so he could start his own business.” She released an angry breath. “That I was just having second thoughts now that we’d actually lost the property.”

 

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