“Rick. . .are you okay?”
The sound of Delaney’s voice jerked him from the carnal illusion. He stared at her even as the fantasy of being inside her still shook him to his toes. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said that you can see whomever you want, including Lenore because there’s nothing between--”
Rick laid two fingers against Delaney’s lips effectively stopping her speech. Her warm breath blew over his fingers and palm. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her lower lip and gazed into her eyes. “Whenever we’re together attraction arcs between us like an electrical current and I think we owe it to ourselves to explore it. But first you need to answer my question from last night.”
She glanced away for a moment as a couple of trucks rolled past. Snow scattered from beneath their tires. When she looked back at him her eyes were clouded with confusion. “I don’t know if I’ll stay or not. I’m still thinking about it.”
A brisk wind blew around them. Delaney shivered and Rick grasped her hand. “It’s freezing out here. I know a great place for lunch.”
* * * * *
A few minutes later, Rick pulled his truck into the plowed driveway leading to his log home. White Christmas sung in Spanish played over the radio. Luminaries lined the walkway leading up to his front door and Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus huddled in the snow in front of his house. He cut the engine.
Delaney looked at him. “I thought we were going to lunch.”
He smiled. “We are. Come on.”
Once inside, Delaney followed Rick down a long hallway and into a cozy kitchen with slate floors, a butcher block island and maple cabinets. She leaned against the counter and gazed out of the window over the sink. The sun hung high in the sky over a ridge of mountains in the distance. She glanced at Rick who reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle filled with orange liquid. He snapped off the stop with am opener mounted on the side of a cabinet, walked over to Delaney and held out the bottle.
“What’s this?”
“Jarritos Mandarina.” He rolled his r’s and to Delaney’s ear it sounded incredibly sexy. “It’s a Mexican soft drink.”
Delaney took the frosty bottle and sipped. Rick stood close to her. She watched his eyes following the movement of her mouth against the lip of the bottle. She swallowed. The drink tasted refreshing and tangy. “It’s good, thanks. So what’s for lunch?”
“Beef fajitas. Hope you’re ready to turn up the heat.” His voice was husky and desire glinted in his chocolate eyes.
Her pulse leapt in her veins and her skin tingled with the promise of sex she heard in his voice. Would she make love to him if he made the first move? How could she resist? They were alone in his house miles from town and it had been ages since she’d gotten laid. “Turn up the heat?”
He shifted closer until the warmth from his body surrounded her. Just looking at his mouth, so close to hers, tempting her was all she could do not to jump into his arms. But she stood her ground determined that he had to make the first move.
He took the bottle from her hand and set it on the counter before planting his hands on either side of her body blocking her in. “Yeah. . .in my family we never do anything half way.” His gaze snapped to hers. “When I cook I put in an infusion of spice followed by a hard kiss of heat guaranteed to make your taste buds sit up and beg.” His gaze roamed over her face. “Do you like a hint of spice, Delaney?”
“Depends on the spice.”
He smiled slightly, a gentle lift of one corner of his mouth. “I hope you like mine.”
“I’m sure I will. . .as soon as I wrap my tongue around it.”
Rick grinned. “Good, let’s get started.”
Soon the kitchen filled with the delicious aroma of sizzling meat, onions and peppers. Delaney’s mouth watered.
Rick measured some flour and other ingredients into a bowl and set it on top of the kitchen island. He looked at Delaney sitting at the table. He curved his fingers in a come hither motion. “Come here. I’ll teach you how to make tortillas.” The tone of his voice hinted that he wanted to teach her about something else.
She rose from the chair and moved toward him as though he were the Pied Piper, his voice luring her like a drug. Was she ready for what might happen next? Damn right she was. “You make your own?”
“Yeah, it would be sacrilege to buy them ready made in a plastic bag.”
He guided her to the far side of the island and Rick shifted behind her. He slid his arms around her waist, gently grasped her hands and lowered them into the bowl. His strong, masculine fingers reminded her how much she missed being caressed by a man.
“The trick is merging the ingredients and. . .manipulating the dough.” He might as well have said masturbating. If he would just slip his hand inside her jeans, he could slide his fingers over her clit and put an end to her craving. She sighed, her eyelids drifting closed.
Wrapping his fingers around hers, he pushed her hands into the soft dough. Rick’s breath blew over her neck sending streaks of arousal into her breasts pebbling her nipples into tight peaks. He pressed his hard male body against her back. She felt his erection prod her fanny. A hot stream of liquid engulfed her core. Her breath dragged raggedly from her lungs. God, if he didn’t rub his fingers between her legs in the next few seconds and end the delicious torment, she might die.
Before she could voice her desires, the phone rang. Rick huffed out a breath and grabbed a dish cloth to wipe off his hands. He crossed the room and snatched the receiver from the cradle. “Sheriff Cruz.”
He listened for a moment then told the caller he was on his way and hung up. He looked at Delaney with disappointment and unresolved need in his eyes. “I have to go. Domestic disturbance call.”
Delaney walked to the sink and washed her hands. “Would it be okay if I came with you on a ride along?”
He paused for a moment. “Okay, but you have to promise to stay in the car and do exactly what I tell you.”
Delaney nodded. “I promise.”
* * * * *
As soon as he climbed in the car he radioed the Sheriff’s Department dispatcher and apprised them of the situation. He also asked them to run a check on Betty Verner. A few minutes later, Rick smiled as he pulled the cruiser to the curb across the street from the Verner’s house. The dispatcher had called back quickly with good news. Betty Verner had an outstanding warrant on file in Billings for writing bad checks. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called to the Verner’s house because of a domestic disturbance. But today would be different. No matter how much Lester begged him, the county would take Betty to lock-up.
Rick turned to Delaney, grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger to make sure he had her attention. “Remember to stay in the car. Domestic disturbances can sometimes take an unexpected and dangerous turn. Understand?”
Delaney nodded. “Yes.”
Rick climbed out of the car and started across the narrow, snow-packed street. A frigid wind curled around him with icy fingers. He looked at Betty and Lester Verner standing on opposite sides of their car like two mortal enemies rather than husband and wife. He shivered and zipped up his jacket. He wasn’t sure if he was cold because of the weather or the domestic disaster before him.
He glanced down the block. Most of the houses on the street were decked out in holiday cheer with lights strung over bare tree branches, evergreens and eaves. Wreaths graced a few front doors. A Santa and reindeer with chipped brown and white paint leaned at an awkward angle in the Verner’s front yard. Only five more days until Christmas.
Usually people were wishing one another happy holidays only there was nothing happy about Betty and Lester Verner.
Betty Verner was taller than her husband, Lester by at least eight inches. Her bleached blonde hair twisted over her skull in tight, sausage shaped curls. She wore baggy white sweats, black rubber fishing boots and a red hooded pullover with a large, white snowflake emblazoned on the front. She stood like
a linebacker on one side of their car, an old, blue Cadillac.
Lester, a thin, painfully short man dressed in slacks and a white shirt watched his wife warily from the opposite side. When Rick reached the end of the Verner’s short driveway, he stopped. From his vantage point, he saw blood dripping from Lester’s nose and an angry red welt marring his left cheek. Every so often he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and a few more drops of blood dribbled into the snow at Lester’s feet.
Rick noticed a trail of footprints scattered all around the car. Obviously, Betty had tried to run Lester to ground and got in some good licks before he put some distance between them. She yelled at poor Lester, her face scrunched in fury, her hands bunched in fists at her sides. “Lester, you know it makes me madder than hell when you run from me. Git over here. Now!”
Rick stepped up to the rear of the car. “Evening, Betty. . .Lester.”
Betty turned her large head with florid, puffy cheeks. She curved her small mouth in a brief smile. “Evening, Sheriff.” She said the words in a friendly, casual tone before turning her beady, black eyes back to Lester.
Lester shifted nervously, pulled the tail of his shirt from his pants and wiped at his oozing nose.
Rick propped his hands on his hips. “Want to tell me how the fight started this time?”
Suddenly, Betty turned her big body, lumbered toward the front of the car, her movements slow and encumbered by the heavy rubber boots on her feet. “I have to kill him first. Then we’ll talk.”
The only advantage poor Lester had against his wife was that he could move faster. He darted like a frightened rabbit away from her toward the rear of the car.
At that moment, Betty slipped and nearly went down before the long fingers of her left hand grabbed the hood ornament on the car for balance. She straightened, her breath heaving, her lips curled in a sneer. “Lester went for lunch at McCrary’s over on Lincoln with two women from his office.” Her voice was rough and grating with an undertone of hurt.
“Now, Sugarlump,” Lester whined from his position by the back, right tire, “There was another man in the group and we went as friends. You know I never look twice at other women.”
Betty glared at Lester. “I wouldn’t have even known about it if I hadn’t driven by on my way to the cleaners to pick up your shirts. You two-timing, good-for-nothing little weasel!” In a couple of steps, she rounded the hood of the car.
Lester’s eyes widened with fear. He turned to run, slipped in the snow and fell flat on his face. He scrambled to his hands and knees and tried to stand but Betty reared back with her right foot and kicked him squarely in the butt. He grunted in pain, rolled to his back and held his hands up. “Don’t, Betty please!”
Betty gripped a butcher knife tightly in her hand and held it over her head ready to plunge the blade into Lester’s small chest.
Rick lunged toward Betty ramming his body into hers. She rocked slightly on her feet, like a tall tree swaying in the breeze. The knife fell from her fingers, sailed downward and stuck upright in the snow about two inches from Lester’s head.
Sirens rang shrilly through the afternoon air. It took Rick and two other police officers to subdue Betty.
Just before they put her in the car, she turned toward Lester who sat huddled in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around his shoulders while an EMT treated his injuries.
Tears streamed from her small eyes, her thin lips twisted in remorse. “I’m sorry, Honey Bunch, you know I didn’t mean it. I love you.”
Lester leaped from the back of the ambulance and ran to his wife; his fingers like bare twigs caressed her face. “I know you didn’t.” He turned pleading eyes on the officers. “I don’t want to press charges. You heard her; she just gets angry sometimes that’s all. She can’t help it.”
Rick laid a hand on Lester’s shoulder and told him about the outstanding warrant against his wife.
Lester was still begging the officers to let her go as they helped her into the back of the squad car.
* * * * *
A couple of hours later, Rick waited for Delaney at a table in the Cozy Corner Diner. He lifted a cup of hot chocolate to his lips and sipped just as Delaney breezed through the door with Sara Farley by her side. The first section of the diner contained two rows of booths, a bar and a bakery case filled with assorted pastries. A glass and wood partition separated the front from the larger dining area. Rick watched Delaney glance around the room. He waved to snag her attention. She smiled and his heart skipped a beat. She touched Sara’s arm and they started across the diner. He admired Delaney’s lush curves as she moved toward him. The more time he spent with her the more she attracted him and slid deeper beneath his skin. No woman had ever made him feel hot, cold, excited and panic stricken all at the same time. What the hell was he going to do?
Delaney and Sara settled at the table with Rick. Sara cocked her head and glanced at Rick. “I hope you don’t mind me joining the two of you.”
Rick waved a hand casually through the air. “Of course not. How was your day?”
“It’s been nice,” Sara began. She reached over and patted Delaney’s arm. “I was thrilled when Delaney dropped in earlier. I’ve been working on a new china pattern and I wanted to get an objective opinion. When she invited me to dinner, I couldn’t say no. I just hate eating alone...nothings been the same since my Carl died.”
Delaney reached out and laid her hand on Rick’s arm. He fought not to cover her hand with his own and entwine their fingers. “You should see the new pattern, Rick. It’s a gorgeous holiday design with red birds, greenery and ribbon.”
She looked at Sara and smiled. “When it goes on display, it’s going to sell like crazy.”
Sara beamed. “Thank you, Delaney. I’m so glad you like it. Artists always need positive feedback and encouragement you know.”
Rick studied Delaney as they waited for their food to arrive. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes bright. She’d pulled her hair into a pony tail and a few loose strands teased her neck. He wanted to brush his lips there as well but he pushed the impulse away.
Delaney was so supportive of the people she befriended and her loyalty appeared genuine. He certainly respected her for being so kind to Sara. But was he seeing only surface? Was the real Delaney hidden from him?
Once, he had believed in friendship and loyalty with every cell in his body. But Jake, his partner had deceived him in the cruelest possible way.
Delaney laughed. The girlish sound made lust quiver through his veins. Delaney shifted her gaze and looked at him. He wanted to touch her, hold her, kiss her--right now but could he trust her?
Several people stopped by their table, spoke to him and eyed Delaney before they stuck their hands out for a shake. She smiled and conversed with them for a few minutes before they moved on. They were seated by a picture window. Rick glanced out at the flurries falling from a sky quilted with clouds. When a large, black Mercedes SUV pulled into a space in front of the diner, Oliver Harden climbed out and Rick’s eye brows shot up his forehead. In a moment, Oliver had helped his wife from the vehicle. She took his arm; beamed at him as if he were a god descended from Mount Olympus and together they headed for the diner’s door.
As they passed the booth where Rick, Delaney and Sara were sitting Oliver and his wife stopped. Oliver’s wife waved her left hand beneath Sara’s nose. A person would have to be blind to miss the sparkle and flash from the large diamond on her ring finger.
Sara gasped, her eyes widened and she smiled in awe. “My goodness, Roberta, what’s this?”
“Oh,” she gushed. “Ollie bought me a new wedding set in Billings. Isn’t it just. . .” She put her hand to her cheek. “I’m at a loss for words.”
Sara nodded. “Me too.”
Delaney leaned forward to have a look as well. “Wow, it’s gorgeous.”
Roberta shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, thank you. I have to agree.” She giggled.
Oliver squared his sh
oulders and preened beside her. Curioser and curioser.
The diamond was huge. “It’s a beautiful ring for sure.” Rick wondered where he got the cash for a Mercedes and a huge rock like that for his wife.
Oliver puffed out his chest and grinned. “Thanks. Did you see our new ride too?”
Rick leaned back in his chair and looked at Oliver. “How could I miss it?”
Roberta tugged on Oliver’s arm. “Come on, honey, I see a couple of ladies from my bridge club. I’m dying to show them my ring. They’ll be green with envy.”
Rick watched them walk away and head toward the back of the diner.
Sara looked at Rick and Delaney and smiled. “Who knew Oliver made that kind of money?” She sipped her coffee and patted her mouth with the napkin. “Will you two excuse me for a few minutes? I see someone I need to talk to about an order of china.” Sara grabbed her purse and headed toward a young couple seated at a table on the far side of the diner.
Rick looked at the SUV then toward the direction of the Hardens. He frowned.
“Is there a problem?” Delaney asked.
“Yeah, I’m wondering how Oliver Harden can afford a vehicle like that.” He nodded toward the car in question, “and an expensive ring on income from a convenience store.”
Their waitress walked over, set their food on the table, asked if they needed anything else then left them alone. Delaney bit into one of her chicken tenders and ate a French fry. “Maybe he makes more than you think or maybe he inherited from a relative.”
Rick shook his head. “Maybe, but Avery’s a small town and it’s hard to keep a secret around here. If Oliver had come into some money, everybody in town would have known about it by now. He and Roberta have always lived comfortably but modestly. He’s never been the kind of man to buy expensive things then flash them around town.” He exhaled a breath. “Seems odd that’s all.”
Delaney’s hand covered Rick’s, his heart picked up rhythm and arousal stirred in his groin. He looked at her.
She gave him a small smile. “I was really impressed with the way you handled the situation earlier with the Verners.”
Sheriff in Her Stocking Page 6