Only in Texas

by Christie Craig

  “And I’ll bet she doesn’t have a clue what that could be.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Dallas snapped.

  “Where’s her place?” Tony asked.

  “Knoll Apartments, Park Knoll and—”

  “By the cemetery?”

  “Yeah,” Dallas answered. “Apartment 605.”

  A light flicked on down the hall. Dallas stepped back and saw that Nikki had turned the bedroom light on, and she stood in the doorway staring inside the room. Then she leaned against the door frame, slid down to her ass and dropped her head on her knees again. He recalled her underwear being strewn all over the room.

  “Do you think someone is after her, too?” Tony asked.

  “I don’t know.” And Dallas didn’t know, but the possibility knotted his gut almost as much as the thought of him shooting her. He looked back at the front door still ajar, the lock broken. “Can you send someone out here ASAP? Nikki’s had it. I’m taking her to my place.”

  “Your place?” Tony asked.

  Dallas didn’t answer. He was almost as surprised at his statement as Tony. Then he looked at the picture of a young and disheartened Nikki again and felt right about his decision. Making sure she didn’t end up in someone’s trunk or in the operating room, didn’t make him a hero. It made him a decent person.

  “I’ll need to talk to her first,” Tony grumbled.

  “Talk to her tomorrow.”

  “Come on, Dallas. There’s a reason people are dropping like flies around her and all this shit is happening. Chances are she knows something she’s not telling us.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Dallas hung up and went to check on Nikki.

  A hand moved across Nikki’s shoulder blades and lingered there. The touch sent shards of emotion charging right to her chest.

  “Hey.” His deep voice spoke close to her ear. “You gonna be okay?”

  Biting down on her lip, she saw him kneel beside her. “It wasn’t just computer stuff that interested him.”

  “Huh?”

  “The jerk went through my panty drawer.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that.” He gave her shoulder another light squeeze and stood. “Why don’t you grab an overnight bag and I’ll take you somewhere you can get some rest? Tony and CSU will be here and it could take them all night to check for prints and everything.”

  She wanted to argue, to tell him all she’d wanted to do was crawl into her own bed and sleep. However, knowing someone had broken in, that they’d gone through her underwear drawer gave her the creeps. Considering it was probably the same person who killed Jack and attacked Ellen, well, Nikki didn’t love her bed that much. “Can you drop me off at my grandmother’s place?”

  He stared at her for several seconds. “Yeah, I could do that.” He stood up and continued to look at her as if he had something else to say.

  “Thanks.” She started to get up, and he reached down to help her.

  His hand stayed on her elbow, his thumb moving back and forth over the inside of her arm. It tickled and soothed at the same time.

  “Of course, I’d think you wouldn’t want to put your grandmother in any danger.”

  She pushed the feel of his touch from her mind to try and digest what he said. “What… What do you mean?”

  “I mean that it appears as if someone could be after you. If you go to your grandmother’s place, you might inadvertently bring trouble there. I have room at my place, and I’m better equipped to deal with any… problems.”

  Go home with him? She could still feel the tingle on her arm where he’d touched her. With clarity, she recalled earlier admitting to liking him… liking him too much. “No.” Heck, no. “I don’t… I couldn’t impose on you to… that’s too much to ask.”

  “You already barfed on me. Putting you up for a night is nothing.” He chuckled.

  She didn’t see the levity right now. Tomorrow, she would probably laugh at the whole situation, but not tonight. “I’ll just stay here.”

  “The lock’s broken, Nikki. When Tony comes here, he’s going to want to interrogate you. Nothing against my brother, but he’s relentless.”

  The thought of having to face Detective O’Connor again had Nikki turning around, leaning her forehead against the hall wall, and giving it one light frustrated thump. “I need to sleep. I can’t think right now.” She closed her eyes.

  “I know.” His voice came at her ear again and she felt the heat of his body behind her. “That’s why you should come home with me. Just until we get the locks fixed.”

  We? She didn’t belong to a “we.” She used to, but Jack wanted more than “we” and then he got himself killed. Killed. Jack was dead. The vision of him in the trunk flashed again. She jerked her eyes open.

  She swung around. Dallas O’Connor stood so close she barely had room to do the complete turn. So close she could smell him, a musky spicy scent, as if he used one of those masculine make-women-notice-you scents of deodorant. The smell chased away the terrible vision, or maybe it was the soft way he studied her. The way his presence made her feel jittery, but safe. We. She missed being part of a we.

  “I… don’t think, I—” I’m not having sex with you. Was there a proper way of saying that? Her brain was mush and she wasn’t sure. And face it, living with Nana all those years hadn’t earned her an A-plus in diplomatic speaking. Nana said things the way they were and sometimes it was easier to follow Nana’s path. “What I’m trying to say is…”

  He pressed a finger over her lips. From the look in his eyes, he knew exactly what she couldn’t put into words. “It’s three in the morning. You’ve had the day from hell. I promise you, I don’t plan on seducing you tonight.”

  She bit down on her lip and, too tired to censor her thoughts, said the first thing that came to her mind. “What about tomorrow?”

  He grinned and darn it if he didn’t look sexy with his dark blue eyes and bedroom smile. “How about we take it a day at a time?”

  We again. Then the between-the-lines suggestion of what he’d said sank in and she realized what he might have mistaken her question to mean. “I wasn’t implying…”

  “I know.” His smile lessened and something even more dangerous filled his eyes. That soft, caring look that made her want to lean into him. “I’m just teasing you. Now, go get your things before Tony gets here.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “WE’RE HERE.” A voice intruded on Nikki’s sleep a short time later.

  She waved her hand, trying to send the masculine voice away. She wasn’t ready to wake up. Tired. So tired. She only wanted to sleep. To forget about…

  “Nikki?”

  Hearing her name had her bolting forward and head-butting the owner of the deep voice right before a seat belt locked in place across her chest. Who? Where? Questions zipped through her sleep-dazed—and now jarred—brain. While the answers to her questions didn’t come, all the things she wanted to forget about came hurtling at her. Jack, dead. Ellen, attacked. Her place, wrecked.

  Then the answers to her questions quickly followed. Who? Dallas O’Connor. Where? His place.

  She touched her sore forehead and looked at Dallas standing outside the open car door rubbing two fingers over his own sore spot.

  “Sorry.” Still not completely awake, she fought to release the seat belt.

  “Need some help?” He sounded leery to lean down without permission.

  “No. I can do it.” She pushed down on what she thought was the release and nothing happened. She gave it a pull and tug. Still nothing. She twisted in her seat, trying to see what she was doing wrong, but the dang seat belt locked on her. She jabbed at what she thought was the latch again. Then jabbed harder. She gave it a frustrated yank, groaned, and then slammed back into the seat. “I’ll just sleep right here.”

  He chuckled as he leaned down and, in one click, had her loose. She stepped out of the car. He put his hand on her back and led her forward. It took Nikki a second to realize where they were.

/>   “Isn’t this the old…” She put a hand over her mouth when she yawned.

  “Funeral home,” he finished for her. “Yup, I got it at a steal. I think the other potential buyers were afraid of ghosts.”

  “And you weren’t?” Nikki watched him open the door. She wasn’t scared of ghosts, but the idea of living—or in her case, sleeping—in a building that had been a funeral home, was a bit spooky. Of course, she was too tired to care. And right now her life was so scary, she wasn’t sure a ghost could compete.

  He cut his eyes down at her. “Let’s just say I’m more afraid of the living than the dead.”

  She took one step in and stopped when she saw the coffin pushed against the wall. Maybe she wasn’t too tired to care.

  He chuckled again. “The prior owner was supposed to pick that up months ago.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Please tell me it’s empty.”

  “I wish I could. Bud, get out of the coffin.”

  When Nikki heard rustling movement coming from the box, she jumped back and bumped into Dallas. His arm circled her middle, and his muscled torso pressed against her backside. He felt solid, strong, lean-on-me warm. She didn’t pull away.

  He laughed and called out again, “Bud, out!”

  A round, white and tan canine head popped up and rested on the casket’s lip. Its jowls flopped over the edge of the polished wood.

  A little shocked, she giggled. Then realizing how close she was to the dog’s owner—and that she hadn’t been this close to a man in a long time—she shifted forward.

  Dallas’s hand brushed across her stomach as he released her. “He thinks it’s his bed.”

  The dog spotted her and immediately leapt out of the box. His entire squatty, round body wagged as he came hurtling over to her. He stopped right over her stockinged feet and started sniffing and snorting at her legs.

  “Bud, stop it,” Dallas said.

  “It’s okay.” Nikki knelt to pet him. Men she couldn’t handle, but dogs were another thing. Nikki hadn’t ever met a dog she didn’t love. And as soon as she recovered from the loss of Chica, who’d died the same day her divorce was finalized, she was going to make a trip to the pound. Suddenly she felt a warm wet spray hit her right ankle.

  “Uh-oh.” She rose and stepped back.

  “What?” Dallas asked.

  “Happy sprinkles,” she said and yawned again.

  “Happy what?”

  “He peed on me,” she said.

  Dallas laughed and apologized at the same time.

  While too tired to think, and with one sock soaked in dog pee, she still liked hearing his laugh. “Happy sprinkles. That’s what Nana calls it when her dog does that. Of course, Nana’s Chihuahua doesn’t sprinkle quite that much.” Nikki reached down and took off her right hospital sock and suddenly wondered why she hadn’t had the sense to change clothes at her place. Too much stress at seeing her apartment victimized, she guessed.

  “My things.” She remembered the bag she’d packed but hadn’t brought in from the car. Her purse, too.

  “Right here.” He patted her bag where it was slung over his shoulder. “I put your purse in here, too.” He motioned down the hall and they started walking. The English bulldog followed, his nails clicking against the wood floor.

  “These are our offices.” Dallas motioned to one large room that contained three desks and a television mounted on the wall. “Conference room.” He pointed to a smaller room with a big table. He grinned and pointed at the door to the right. “My apartment.”

  He guided her through the doorway. A tan leather sofa centered the room, accompanied by a matching leather chair. A coffee table with a glass top centered the room and against the wall sat a large television. “Living room, kitchen.” He motioned toward another shorter hallway. “Bedroom and bath. Nothing fancy, but home.” He looked down at the dog, who now stood sniffing Nikki’s bare foot. “Come on, Bud, I’ll let you out.”

  Dropping Nikki’s bag beside her, Dallas walked through the kitchen area and opened an exterior door for Bud. The dog barked as if to say he’d be right back and then tore through the kitchen to the outdoors.

  Dallas shut the door and turned back to her. That’s when the awkwardness of this situation rained down on her. She was in the home of a man she hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. She wore hospital scrubs, no underwear, one sock and held a peed-on sock in one hand. “I think I’ll use your restroom to wash off.”

  “Just one second.” He hurried past her. “Let me…”

  Nikki listened to him bumping and banging around in the bathroom. In less than a minute, he came out. “Lid’s down now. There’s soap in the shower, too. Clean towels on the counter.”

  Awkward. Very awkward. “Thanks.” Bag in tow, she went into the bathroom. When she closed the door, she automatically locked it and then worried he’d heard the sound of the click and would realize how uncomfortable she felt. Then, too tired to care what he might think, she took several deep breaths.

  It smelled as if someone had just spritzed the room with air freshener. The toilet lid was indeed down. A folded towel and washcloth were on the counter. She set her bag beside the towels and saw herself in the mirror. God, she looked like death warmed over. The word “death” brought it all back. Jack—dead. Ellen—attacked. Oh God!

  Where was the logic in this? Why didn’t anything make sense?

  Almost too tired to take her clothes off, she glanced down at her one bare foot and decided a quick shower was in order. After figuring out how the shower worked, she disrobed, and then climbed in under the spray of warm water. While the water felt wonderful, she never relaxed. A spicy male scent lingered in the foggy atmosphere, reminding her she was in a man’s apartment.

  When she left the steamy shower, she heard scratching and doggy whining at the door. In the distance, she heard Dallas scold the dog. For some reason she recalled Nana asking her if Jack had a pet. When Nikki had told her no, Nana had frowned and said having a pet was a sign of a decent man.

  That thought took her back to opening her car’s trunk, and the gruesome image filled her head once more. Attempting to push that thought back, she grabbed her bag. She couldn’t even remember what she’d packed. She found a pair of boxer-style shorts and a tank top. What she didn’t find was a bra. Obviously, her mind figured she’d gone without one for so long, it wasn’t needed.

  Not that it was needed to sleep in, but when she slipped on the tank top, she realized it was slightly clingy and accented the girls a bit more than her last scrub-style fashion statement. Too late to worry now. She finger combed her hair, stuffed her scrubs into her bag beside her purse and went to face the awkwardness again.

  When Dallas heard the shower running, his mind started picturing her naked and his body hummed with anticipation. He knew damn well she wasn’t showering to join him for a round of rambunctious sex, but certain southern body parts weren’t convinced. Face it: He’d never brought a woman to sleep at his place when he hadn’t indulged in some bedtime adventures.

  Changing his sheets and preparing his bed for her, he recalled bits of the dialogue they shared before they’d left her place.

  I promise you, I don’t plan on seducing you tonight.

  What about tomorrow?

  How about we take it a day at a time?

  Moving back into the living room, he dropped onto his sofa and passed a hand over his face. He’d told himself it couldn’t happen. He’d told Tony it wasn’t happening. And for damn good reasons, too.

  If only he could remember them right now.

  Shit! He was already wavering.

  Staring at the blanket and pillow he’d already set out for himself, he tried to relax. But when the bathroom door opened, he popped up to meet her.

  “Find everything you needed?” he asked. Bud danced at her feet with excitement.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “I forgot to ask if you wanted something to eat or… drink.” Damn!
She looked… fucking great. All clean, wet, and ready to be stripped naked and sated. Her hair hung in wet wavy strands down to her shoulders. Unlike the hospital outfit, the tan and pink top hugged her form and showcased her breasts—a nice round set of C cups that had his jeans feeling tight again. The boxer-style shorts weren’t nearly short or tight enough. However, what thigh he could see looked creamier than ice cream and he’d bet would taste a hell of a lot better.

  “Uh. No, all I need is somewhere to lie down. I’m very tired.”

  “I… changed the sheets for you.” He walked past her, aching to touch her, to pull her against him, to test his theory that she was as aware of him as he was of her. But he knew if he did, he’d be lost, so he kept going and pushed open the door to his bedroom.

  She didn’t follow him. “I… I can’t take your bed.”

  “Yes, you can,” he said, facing her. “I’m gonna hit the sofa for the rest of the night.”

  “I’ll take the sofa.” She headed to the living room.

  He hurried past her and nearly tripped over Bud, who followed her every step. No way in hell was he letting her sleep on his crappy sofa. It was fine for sitting, but torture to sleep on. “I prefer you to take the bed. I always crash on the sofa. I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep in the bed.”

  She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “Did you know that when you lie your right eyebrow arches up?”

  He dropped down on the sofa, reclined back, and stretched his legs out. “Is that what happens?” He grinned and stuffed the pillow behind his head. “I never figured out how my mom knew it all those years.”

  She didn’t respond to his humor.

  “Okay, here’s the thing.” He purposely held his forehead muscles tight. “I don’t sleep on it all the time, but I prefer the sofa.” Damn if he didn’t feel his brow arch upward.

  “So do I,” she said, and that sweet-looking mouth of hers bowed up and all he could think about was tasting it.

  “Yeah, but… I’m already here and…” His gaze lowered to her breasts. Her mouth wasn’t all he wanted to taste. “And unless you want to wrestle me for it—and I don’t recommend that right now—then I suggest you head back to the bedroom and get some sleep. It’s almost four in the morning.”