Shelley writhed against him, loving the friction, erotically enticing him, too. Until it wasn’t enough for him, either. He hissed in a breath. “Shelley.” And let go of her wrists. She took advantage of the freedom to wrap her hands around him, intimately caressing, tempting, loving. With another urgent groan, he gripped her hips and lifted her. Aware he was her every male fantasy come true, she gasped and guided him home.
He surged inside, their kisses navigating them into the rhythm they’d been craving. The heat of their bodies combined with the river of pleasure pouring forth. Again and again they moved, rocking together, giving, seeking, finding more, until at last the dam burst and Shelley found the solace she needed. Colt was right after her, his shudders of release only adding to the sharp, joyous pleasure she felt.
Affirming that however this started, whyever it had continued, it was a hell of a lot more than simple sex.
It was friendship.
It was lust.
It was needs expressed and met.
It was, simply put, everything she wanted and needed to give her a more fulfilled life.
“I take it back,” Shelley said a short time later, when their shudders had finally stopped, and they’d moved from the wall to the sofa. She curled against him, replete with a satisfaction as deep and enthralling as his. She pressed a kiss into his neck. “That was exactly what I needed.”
Colt knew it was what he had needed, too.
Perhaps this was the only way they could communicate without all sorts of other stuff getting in the way. He reached for her, ready to go again.
Her cell phone rang.
They frowned in tandem, both of their glances moving to the clock. It was one-thirty in the morning.
Shelley extricated herself from his arms and, mindful of her son sleeping in the next room, rushed to pick up. “Who would be calling at this hour?” she murmured, sending him a distressed look over her shoulder. “I hope it’s not bad news!”
But, Colt soon discovered from the look on her face as she listened, it was. “You have some nerve,” Shelley said angrily. “I can’t do that. Because I don’t have that kind of money, that’s why. No! I’ve got to go.” Shelley ended the call and turned off her phone.
Tamping down his own resentment, Colt guessed, “Your ex?”
“Who else?” Shelley fumed. Her face pinched with stress, she slipped into the bathroom and returned, belting a knee-length, pale yellow robe. She sank down on the sofa and ran a hand through the mussed strands of her auburn hair. “He wanted me to buy back my own house at auction. So that he could repay me later when he has the money, which of course he claims he is close to getting, in full. Can you believe that?”
Yes, Colt thought, he could.
But wary another I-told-you-so was not what she needed right now, he took her hand in his and said, “There are still other options.”
Chapter Eleven
“If you’re talking about loaning me the money to make a bid....” Shelley cautioned.
Colt reached for his boxer-briefs. “Given we’re involved—and I’m part of the sheriff’s department, which managed the actual eviction and is now providing security for the auction—it’s too close to the ethical line. Whether it would be actual fraud for me to give you the money to buy it back at a greatly reduced price or not, I don’t know.”
“But it would look like fraud.”
Colt stood and tugged on his jeans. “And if it looks bad and smells bad...”
“It is bad.”
“However, there are still my dad’s companies.” Colt zipped, snapped and buckled, then reached for his shirt. “Their sole purpose is to purchase distressed properties, turn them around, and resell or rent them. All I’d have to do is make the call and he’d have someone there in the morning.”
Shelley didn’t doubt that for a moment. The McCabes were known far and wide for their kindness and generosity. Extricating her hand from Colt’s protective grip, she stood and looked him square in the eye. “As much as I appreciate that...it’s not his problem.”
Looking disappointed, Colt buttoned his shirt. “It would be a business arrangement, Shelley. Best of all, you wouldn’t have to purchase the house back immediately. You could rent it from his management company and take all the time you need to sort everything out with your ex.”
For a moment, Shelley was tempted. Fortunately, she came to her senses and levelheadedness returned. She sat back down beside him on the bed. “Accepting such a huge favor would also leave me beholden to your father—and you—in a distinctively uncomfortable way. I told you,” she reminded gently, “friends and money don’t mix. I want to count you...and your family...as friends.”
“So we’re back to just crossing our fingers and hoping it doesn’t sell tomorrow?”
She nodded slowly.
“At least tell me you’re not planning to attend the auction,” Colt urged.
Shelley rested her head on his shoulder. “I admit part of me really wants to go. But I also know that you’re right—it’s not something I should try to handle emotionally. Besides—” she shrugged, as they both got to their feet “—you’ll be there. You can tell me what happens, right?”
All business, he looked down at her. “I’ll make sure to let you know as soon as the auction is over.”
“Great.” Shelley sighed in relief. “Thank you.” Resisting the urge to draw him back down onto the bed with her, she leaned up and brushed her lips across his. “In the meantime, I really have to get some sleep. I’ve got five classes to teach tomorrow.”
He gave her a brief, heartfelt hug and kissed the top of her head. “I can take a hint. But one of these days, when life settles down, you and I are going to have to find a way to spend an entire night together.”
Shelley smiled. “That sounds good.” Better, in fact, than you know.
* * *
SHORTLY AFTER MIDNIGHT, SPRING Street should have been utterly peaceful when Colt turned onto it. And it was, with the exception of one residence.
Frowning, he watched as the arcing yellow beam of a flashlight and a trio of shadowy figures disappeared behind 903 Spring Street.
Figuring it was an interested party attempting to get a look inside prior to the auction, Colt steered his car to the curb and got out.
As he walked across the lawn and rounded the house, he heard the voices that pretty much confirmed it. “Come on, just break the window.”
“No. That would make too much noise!”
“Then jimmy the lock!”
“Here! Give me that crowbar!”
Colt eased nearer, and came upon the graduating class’s three rowdiest high school students. He stood, legs braced apart, arms folded in front of him, and drawled, “You fellows need a hand?”
The crowbar hit the porch with a clatter. The beam of the flashlight arced through the air and hit Colt in the face. “Oh, thank God!” Hector said, in obvious relief. “It’s only Colt McCabe.”
Only? Colt thought, rubbing his jaw. He was a deputy. It was his job to enforce the law, on duty or not.
“Yeah. You scared us, man,” Ryan said, holding tight to the twelve-pack of Budweiser in his arms. “We thought it was someone who was going to turn us in. Not the coolest deputy on the force.”
Was that how he was perceived? Colt wondered. Not as an understanding potential mentor, but as a conscienceless wimp?
“Want to join us for a brew?” Jasper offered, popping open a can.
Colt pointed out sternly, “You need to be twenty-one to drink alcohol in Texas.”
“So, what’s a little lawbreaking among amigos?” Hector shrugged, accepting the can from his friend and taking a swig. “I’m sure it’s nothing you and your friends didn’t do after you graduated high school.”
Colt picked up hi
s cell phone, dialed. “Yeah. McCabe. I need backup immediately.” Colt gave the details.
Jasper scoffed. “He didn’t really call anyone.”
Hector nodded. “He’s just trying to scare us into giving him our beer.”
“Besides, it’s not like we did anything...” Ryan said.
With a reproving look, Colt reminded them, “You’re underage, in possession, trespassing—”
Hector interrupted, “Hey! We were trespassing at Laramie High. You didn’t take us in then.”
“My mistake,” Colt muttered.
Two sheriff cars pulled up at the curb, lights whirling, sirens off. Ryan blinked at the sight of the two deputies getting out of the squad cars. “Holy...frijoles! You’re not joking around? You’re really going to arrest us?” Hector gasped as the beer was confiscated and all three boys were swiftly turned, frisked and read their Miranda rights.
Realizing he should have thrown the book at the kids the first time around, Colt told the kids, “You really are under arrest.”
Maybe this time, he ascertained privately, the kids would learn their lesson and knock off the juvenile hijinks.
Colt gave the other two officers on scene the full report of what he’d witnessed, with the newly handcuffed kids cussing him out and glaring at him all the while, then headed home.
He took his dog for a brief walk in the moonlight, and then settled down to sleep, Buddy sprawled out on his cushion next to Colt’s bed.
It seemed just minutes later, Colt’s alarm went off.
He showered, dressed and then headed for the station.
He was accosted the moment he walked in by the parents of Ryan, Jasper and Hector. “How could you do this?” Hector’s mother screeched. “This arrest will put Hector’s football scholarship in jeopardy!”
“If you wanted to see our boys arrested,” Jasper’s mother said, “you should have done it last April, when it would only have been a trespassing charge.”
Ryan’s dad added resentfully, “Now they have three charges to defend themselves against! Trespassing, attempted breaking and entering, and minors in possession of alcohol!”
Hector walked out to rejoin his parents. “We thought you were the cool deputy,” he said bitterly. His friends nodded in agreement as they, too, joined their parents. “Now we know better. You just pretended to be our friend. You’re worse than the rest of them!”
Ilyse Adams appeared before Colt could begin to respond. “Deputy McCabe?” the internal affairs officer interjected crisply. “A word?” Moments later, Colt found himself in Sheriff Ben Shepherd’s office. “What happened last night?” Investigator Adams asked.
Colt sat down and filled them both in.
“Obviously, the parents are irate,” Ben concluded with a sigh.
Colt had gathered that, and then some. “They’ve been here all night, along with their sons?”
The sheriff shook his head. “The three teens were so belligerent when they were brought in, so sure this was some sort of cruel joke, that a decision was made to let the boys cool their heels in lockup. Their parents weren’t notified until an hour ago. Naturally, they all rushed down here to post bond immediately.”
“I think you should know the boys are blaming this on you,” Ilyse informed Colt archly. “They said they got the idea to party there when they saw you sneaking into the house a couple of nights ago.”
Colt winced.
“Is it true?” the sheriff asked.
Colt reluctantly explained, “Shelley’s son, Austin, left his little red car there, and he was inconsolable.”
“So rather than go through the proper channels,” Investigator Adams said implacably, “or at the very least notify officials of what you proposed to do, you smuggled the key out of the station in the middle of the night, retrieved the item for Ms. Meyerson and her little boy and then snuck the key back the next day.”
Colt swallowed. Put that way, it did sound highly unethical, as well as illegal. “That about covers it, yeah.”
A grave silence fell, rife with the many mistakes Colt had made. He was just beginning to see how many.
Ilyse Adams exhaled heavily, stood. “I’ll add this to the report, Sheriff.” She gave Colt a long, debilitating look and exited the room.
The indicting silence continued. “You understand what a very thin line you are walking, don’t you?” Ben Shepherd asked, steepling his hands together on his desk. “That if it weren’t for the years of fine service you’ve given to Laramie County, you would’ve already been let go. And, in all honesty, that still may happen when this investigation is concluded.”
Completely off balance, Colt nodded.
Sheriff Shepherd rose and ushered Colt out. “Better get a move on. With the auction starting in an hour, you should already be on the courthouse steps. And, Colt?” Ben clapped a warning hand on his shoulder. “No more mistakes. Not a one.”
* * *
“ANY WORD FROM COLT YET?” Liz Cartwright-Anderson asked at the end of the noon-hour Zumba Class for New Moms.
Shelley shook her head. Her attorney, more than anyone, knew how much she was hoping her family home would not sell this morning. But with thirty-six distressed properties set to be auctioned on the courthouse steps, and a reported three hundred people there to bid on them, it might be a while longer before she knew anything. “What about Tully? Anything there?”
Liz blotted her face with the ends of the towel she had looped around her neck. “Actually, I was going to call you in a little bit, but since we have a moment...” The attorney pulled Shelley aside and told her in a low, confidential tone, “The D.A.’s office found evidence of fraud—they’re going to prosecute. They’ve talked to a judge, who agrees because of Tully’s family money and connections that your ex could be a flight risk. She issued a bench warrant for Tully. The police in Dallas are searching for him as we speak.”
Shelley sighed, the relief she felt overriding any residual guilt. “Oh, Liz, that’s great.” Now if she could only hold on to her house long enough to see justice done. “And speaking of the most dedicated lawman around...or at least the one you’re crazy about....” Liz elbowed Shelley.
Was it that obvious? Shelley turned to see Colt striding through the wave of women gathering up their belongings, and the kindergarten dance class streaming in.
As he neared her, her heart swelled. Darn it all, if he wasn’t everything she could hope for, after all! The smile on his face told her everything. “It didn’t sell?” she croaked.
He stopped just short of her. “Not a single bid.”
Joy bubbled up inside her, and she did a little happy dance. “So that means I’ve got an entire month before the property will be on the auction block again!”
“That’s right. You’ve got until the first Tuesday of next month.”
Dizzy with relief, Shelley threw herself into his arms and held on tight. “Oh, Colt, thank you!” she cried, pressing up against his hard chest and inhaling the clean, masculine scent of him. “Thank you so much!”
Although he was still in uniform, ostensibly still on duty, with dozens of females surrounding them, Colt hugged her back. He buried his face in her hair. “I didn’t really do anything,” he whispered back.
Her stomach quivered. “Yes, you did. You and I both know it.” Belatedly aware others were looking—and listening in—Shelley withdrew. “I really want to celebrate. What time do you get off tonight?”
He straightened with easy grace. “I should be done around six.”
“Then it’s a date. Austin and I will meet you at your place to give you a proper thank-you for everything you’ve done for us.”
His eyes were warm, his smile enticing, but Shelley sensed that something was off. She paused, nerves jumping, hoping she hadn’t presumed too much. “That’s okay, isn�
��t it?”
Colt nodded. He stepped back, all uniformed deputy on duty now. “More than okay,” he said quietly. With a friendly wave for all those around them, he strode off.
“You are crazy about him,” Liz observed at Shelley’s elbow.
Needing to keep her feelings to herself until she had sorted them out, Shelley countered archly, “You just think everyone’s in love, since you fell so hard for Travis.”
Liz smiled, confident as ever. “I don’t deny that having felt it myself, I can spot true love in a heartbeat now. And where I’m seeing it now is in you, and that hunky lawman walking out of here.”
* * *
WAS SHE IN LOVE WITH COLT? Did he feel that way about her? Shelley thought about that all afternoon, and she was still mulling it over when she walked Austin up to the handsome deputy’s front door at six that evening.
On the other side of the front door, Buddy let out a single woof. Colt answered the door seconds later. Shelley’s heart cartwheeled at the sight of him. He was always strikingly handsome in uniform, but off duty, he was incredibly masculine and sexy, too.
Never more so than right now. He’d obviously shaved when he had gotten home. Fresh out of the shower, his short dark brown hair was damp and mussed. Knee-length olive-green cargo shorts gave a distracting view of muscular legs, adorned with the perfect amount of crisp dark hair. A short-sleeved navy V-neck T-shirt molded to his broad shoulders and brawny chest. Comfortable-looking leather moccasins covered his feet. As he leaned in to give her a brief, one-armed hug hello, Shelley breathed in the intoxicatingly good scent of him. He smelled of soap and cologne, and looked as happy to see her as she was to see him.
“Right on time,” he teased.
It had been hard not to be early, she’d been so eager to see him. “I’m nothing if not punctual,” she teased right back.
He smiled again, then hunkered down.
At eye level, Austin grinned. “My deppity!” he said, stretching out his arms to be picked up.
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