Out for Justice

by Susan Kearney

  She took the ear guards from him as reluctantly as if he’d handed her a live snake. “That’s going to mess up my hair.”

  “You really don’t want to shoot this gun, do you?” He wondered if she was thinking about Andrew’s being shot, but he couldn’t afford to let her out of this, not with their lives at risk.

  “I could think of better things to do.” Her voice purred like a kitten’s.

  Better things? Like making love on that old blanket of his in an empty field?

  His mouth went dry. Although he couldn’t decide if her word choice had been deliberately flirtatious, he knew ignoring it would be best. Taking a moment to calm his galloping pulse, he threaded his fingers through his hair.

  “Look. Someone may be trying to kill us, but even if they aren’t, it’s dangerous to carry a loaded gun when you don’t know how to use it.”

  “Okay.” She placed the protectors over her ears. “You don’t need to be mean about it.”

  Mean? Had his irritation at the images she brought to life in his mind caused his voice to turn harsh?

  He handed her the gun. “First thing you need to know is that even if the gun’s unloaded, never point it at anyone unless you intend to shoot them. Treat the weapon as if it’s always loaded.”

  “Got it.”

  “Here’s the safety. When it’s in this position, you can’t pull the trigger.”

  “Got it.”

  “All right. Here’s the clip. Ram it home.”

  It took her three tries but she finally loaded the gun, almost dropping it twice in the process. But at least she never aimed it at him.

  “Take off the safety,” he instructed.

  She fumbled around but finally flicked the switch. “Now what?”

  “Aim at that milk jug, but don’t pull the trigger.”

  “Okay.” She poked the gun in the direction of the milk jug, reminding him of a fencer trying to jab an opponent.

  “You’re going to shoot the gun, not stab someone with it.”

  She arched her brow and shot him a sarcastic glower. “Now, how did I miss that?”

  Ignoring her fit of pique, he issued instructions. “Look through the sight.”

  She lifted the gun but it drooped. “It’s heavy.”

  “Use two hands.”

  “Show me,” she demanded, and handed him the gun.

  “Like this.” He braced the wrist of the hand holding the gun with his other hand and looked down the barrel.

  She tried but her hands were positioned all wrong.

  “Wait a sec.” He took her hand and placed it over the other. Her flesh was warm and soft, her pulse racing.

  “All right, now, pull the trigger.”

  She closed her eyes and jerked the trigger. The gun fired and she fell back flat on her butt and almost dropped the gun. Furious, she yanked off the ear protectors, stood and rubbed her butt. “You didn’t tell me it would kick me on my—”

  He sighed and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He knew damn well that a 9 mm didn’t have that much kick but played along with her theatrics. “Sorry.”

  She glared at him like a hissing kitty cat after a bath. “I’m going to be sore. And I now have a grass spot on my jeans.”

  “You’ll live. Put the ear guards back on and try again. This time I’ll hold you.”

  “Fine.” Haughtily she put the ear protection back on. “But if you let me fall again, this lesson is over.”

  He stood behind her and she leaned against him, her hair brushing his cheek, her scent wrapping around him in a sensual cocoon. And that’s when he realized he was in trouble. The stance was too intimate, their bodies way too close. With her back to his chest, her bottom nestled against his front and her hips nestled to his crotch, he couldn’t ignore the heat seeping into him. Couldn’t prevent his reaction to her wriggling to mimic the stance he’d shown her as his arousal tightened the seam of his jeans.

  When the gun sagged in her hands, he clenched his teeth in frustration at their enforced proximity but reached around her to help hold the gun. His cheek brushed hers. Her hair tickled his ear. And her scent drove his pulse crazy. “This time, don’t close your eyes.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well for one thing, you’ll be able to see if you hit your target.” His voice came out huskier than he would have liked and he could no longer tell if his hands were steady.

  “How will I know if I’m on target?” she demanded, and he realized she was playing word games with him again. He didn’t know if he wanted to turn her around and kiss her or turn and walk away.

  “You’ll know,” he assured her.

  “Now what?”

  “Pull the trigger.”

  “Okay.”

  She shot. And shot and shot, the gun wildly raking the grass or firing harmlessly into the air but never once hitting the milk jug. And when the bullets ran out, she flung herself around in his arms, a pleased grin on her face. “I did it. I did it.”

  Her laughter was contagious but he shook his head. “You didn’t hit anything.”

  “Not yet.” And that’s when she planted a kiss on his lips and hugged him so tightly that she cut off his breath. Or perhaps it was his tripping heart that cut off his oxygen circulation, but he suspected it was likely her mouth pressed to his, her breasts flattened against his chest, her hips molded to his. With her arms around his neck, one hand in his hair, her mouth encouraged him to kiss her back with tantalizing boldness, and he did what came naturally. He obeyed what hundreds of thousands of years of male instincts told him to do. He gathered her close and kissed her back.

  Hot damn, the woman could kiss. And fire him up hotter than a rodeo cowboy on Saturday night. She teased, she taunted, she nipped and she yielded her soft body to him so that he had difficulty knowing who was taking and who was giving. His thoughts spun, and a heady feeling of happiness swept over him. Holding her in his arms was pure pleasure. She was wonderfully soft, fantastically erotic and so…not…for…him.

  Gasping for air, he pulled back and scowled at her. “Just what the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that one kiss isn’t nearly enough.”

  He didn’t like the way he’d responded to her, as if hit with a lightning bolt of passion, and he hardened his tone. “One kiss—was one too many. I didn’t bring you here to fool around.”

  She glared at him. “Well I don’t know about you, but I certainly hit my target.”

  “This is serious.”

  She tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans. “When have I ever indicated that I wasn’t serious?”

  “I was talking about you learning to use the gun.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Hand me some ammo.”

  She removed the clip in one smooth motion. He gave her bullets and she loaded the clip with no instruction, without fumbling once. She rammed the clip home like an expert. Then she placed the ear protectors over her head, spun around and fired. The plastic jug jumped and while it was in the air, she hit it again. And again.

  He’d been had.

  “I thought you said that your father never taught you to use a gun?”

  “He didn’t. Andrew did.”

  “And you let me think…”

  “Whatever you wanted.”

  All her pretending had been to get him to put his arms around her. Anger and admiration and lust battled within him, and when she turned around he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay. Okay. You win.”

  Chapter Eight

  “What do I win?” Kelly asked, allowing her happiness to show in her eyes.

  Wade’s kiss had been fantastic. With all the excitement sparking through her, and her lips aching for another kiss, she had a little difficulty following the conversation. But somehow she didn’t think words mattered so much right now. Not with that heat in Wade’s eyes that fired a piercing shot to her heart.

  Man, oh, man, he was yummy. He kissed like a dream, his eyes tur
ned to smoke and he looked like some kind of dangerous angel who would like to ravish her in one gulp. And still he held back. Maybe he still felt guilty for living instead of dying like Andrew, the way she had at first. Sometimes her feelings for Wade made her feel selfish. But she just couldn’t think about Andrew or finding his murderer all the time. His death was still too painful and there was nothing wrong with her and Wade exploring their growing friendship—one that she believed Andrew would have eventually approved of. She had no idea from where Wade summoned so much fierce self-control because she could see the desire in his eyes, feel the need radiating off him in waves, hear the rasp in his words.

  His nostrils flared and the pulse in his neck thudded erratically. “You win the best-kisser-of-all-time award.”

  “And?” she prodded, holding herself stiffly, somehow already knowing he intended to reject her again. Although disappointment washed through her that he wouldn’t be reaching to take her back into his arms for another extended kiss, she took heart in the fact that each time he denied her he had more difficulty doing so. She inhaled through her nose, let the breath out slowly through her mouth and braced her feet to steady herself against whatever he said next.

  “And it’s time to call Johnny again,” he reminded her.

  Damn him. He just had to go and throw their investigation into her brother’s murder in her face. She swatted down the guilt that she was messing around with Andrew’s best buddy, while her brother rested in his grave. Andrew would want her to live. She would allow herself to miss her brother, but she would not regret kissing Wade—not ever.

  Besides, if Wade was feeling half of what she was, he wouldn’t be able to resist her much longer. Their growing friendship and trust in one another wasn’t just one-sided. She liked him a lot. She admired his loyalty to her brother and his work ethic, and did as Wade suggested and took out her cell phone again. While she called, Wade collected and stored the crates and empty milk jugs and extra ammunition.

  “Johnny still isn’t answering,” she told him.

  “Well, we have two choices.” Wade relocked the shed, his strong fingers snicking the chain tight. He moved with such smooth confidence, she wondered what those fingers would feel like on her skin, and flushed at the thought. Wade paid no attention to her, testing the lock. “We can head into Dallas to talk to Debbie West’s ex-husband or we can drive back to town and hope Johnny shows up.”

  “It’s kind of late in the day to drive into Dallas. Besides, I’d rather try and line up an appointment with Niles. A businessman like him is bound to be busy, and for all we know he could be out of town.”

  “All right. We head back to Mustang Valley,” Wade agreed, allowing her to make the choice.

  She liked the fact that Wade often let her make the decisions. Other men—and their egos—felt threatened by her. She’d never been around anyone as strong or self-sufficient as Wade, or anyone who seemed to have as little to prove. His self-confidence allowed him to treat her as an equal and she liked the way he made her feel valued and special. Wanted.

  Oh, he might be temporarily resisting, but he wanted her all right. During their kiss, she’d felt his arousal pressed against her. But she didn’t understand his reason for playing hard to get. She wondered if he’d made some kind of promise to her brother to hold back, or perhaps it was more simple. Perhaps he just hadn’t had a woman in a long time and, while he was aroused by her, he didn’t like her enough to pursue her.

  She didn’t like that possibility.

  However, Wade could be remarkedly close-mouthed when he didn’t want to talk. He’d mentioned his family, giving her a brief explanation that was civil, without going into details. Coaxing him to talk about his reasons for rebuffing her wouldn’t be easy—yet that didn’t deter her one whit. Although she understood that part of his resistance was because she was Andrew’s sister, she didn’t know his exact reasons. Wade was a man worth putting forth some effort to understand. And she planned to do much more than understand him.

  “What are you thinking?” Wade asked on the drive back into town.

  “Why do you ask?” she countered.

  “You have this mysterious smile on your lips. One corner of your mouth is turned up as if you have a delicious secret and are about to burst into laughter.”

  “Really? I’ll have to be more careful,” she told him, seemingly not at all disturbed by his observation. In fact his watching her so closely and asking that kind of question revealed that her tactics this afternoon were working on him on several different levels. And she saw absolutely nothing wrong with thinking about their relationship as they searched for Andrew’s murderer. Thinking about Andrew all the time was just so sad that she had to allow herself a respite. And it wasn’t as if they weren’t already doing everything in their power to figure out what had happened.

  “So what were you thinking about?” he repeated.

  “You don’t want to know.” She deliberately evaded the question and challenged him to provoke his curiosity.

  He pulled out onto the highway. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

  “Okay. I was thinking about you.”

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “I was thinking about how you reacted to our kiss.”

  He glared at her.

  She grinned. “I told you that you didn’t want to know. Despite all Southern-belle rumors to the contrary, women do think about sex, you know.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re incorrigible?”

  She sighed. “Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to keep a boyfriend.”

  “That’s not what I heard. Andrew told me you’ve left a trail of broken hearts all over Texas.”

  “Andrew loved to exaggerate. But he also understood women.”

  He shot her a sideways glance. “Meaning I don’t?”

  “You don’t understand me.”

  “Well, we can agree there.”

  “Damn it.” Her frustration level rose several degrees until she felt hot enough to turn the air conditioner down to its lowest setting. “Why must you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Agree with me.”

  “You want me to argue?”

  “You agree with me when you want me to shut up.”

  “Well, it beats the alternative, which would be kissing you.”

  Now that was insulting. “And kissing me is so terrible because…?”

  He chuckled, and she realized too late he’d been teasing her. However, she still wished he’d answer her question. But he let her words hang in the air between them unanswered.

  Instead of satisfying her burning curiosity, he kept his eyes peeled on the road and was clearly maintaining his focus on why he was with her. “Why don’t you try calling Johnny again?”

  JOHNNY STILL HADN’T ANSWERED his phone, so they drove by the mayor’s campaign office again. No one there had seen or heard from him all day. Kelly was about to call it quits. After spending the afternoon with Wade, she was both tired and encouraged. She looked forward to a peaceful dinner and evening at his place to wear down his resistance to her a little more. Maybe, if she got lucky—a lot more.

  Too bad it wasn’t politically correct to use Shotgun Sally’s tactic. Kelly had no doubt her ancestor might have just pointed her gun at her man and made him admit that he wanted her. However much that idea appealed to Kelly, she figured that going to such extremes wouldn’t be necessary, not after that wondrous kiss that had curled her toes and lightened her heart. Not after Wade had seemed just as stunned as she’d been at the embers they’d kindled and sparked into flames.

  Whew. Just thinking about that kiss gave her an edge. Because no matter how cool and disinterested Wade acted, she knew better. Chemistry, lust, attraction, whatever she wanted to call the electric tension between them was there, all right. What she didn’t know was if he had any feelings for her.

  One thing at a time.

  “Let’s drive over to Joh
nny’s apartment.” Wade clearly had his mind on their search for her brother’s “friend.” Wade drove from the mayor’s campaign headquarters toward a residential section of town. The quiet streets and homes with green lawns along with kids playing tag or riding their bikes seemed to mock the idea that Johnny might be in town for nefarious purposes.

  His quadplex was a neat brick one-story where he rented one of the four units in the building. Wade parked the car and they both strode down a brick sidewalk to the front door. She didn’t see any interior lights shining through the windows. Nor did she hear a TV or stereo, either.

  Kelly’s nerves were on edge. Of all the suspects on their list, in her opinion, Johnny was one of the most likely to have killed her brother. His motive of revenge, for retaliation at Andrew’s getting him kicked out of law school by reporting him for cheating, seemed a simple reason for hatred. And when all his friends had graduated and gone on to practice law and Johnny had been unemployed, had his anger at her brother erupted into violence? She didn’t know, but as Wade knocked on the door, Kelly was very glad to have him by her side.

  When no one answered, Wade knocked harder.

  Johnny’s door remained closed, but the neighbor opened his. A thin man in his early twenties peered at them through thick glasses. He held a baby in his arms and a toddler sat on his foot, her tiny legs wrapped around his ankle.

  Wade spoke apologetically. “Sorry to disturb you.”

  “No problem,” the neighbor replied. “The walls are so thin we tend to hear everything. That’s why Johnny’s such a great neighbor. He’s a quiet one.”

  Kelly couldn’t help recalling all the interviews she’d seen on television after a murder where the neighbors claimed the shooter had always been quiet. She shuddered a little.

  Observant as always, Wade placed an arm over her shoulder. “You wouldn’t know where we could find Johnny would you?”

  “Go, Daddy. Go,” the toddler demanded, obviously disappointed her ride had ended.

  “In a minute, honey pie.” The man popped the baby’s pacifier back into its mouth and spoke to Wade. “I have no idea where he went, but you’re the second person who’s asked me about him today.”