by Unknown
“Ah, no,” she murmured, surprised he’d noticed.
“It’ll eventually go back into the front entryway. I didn’t want to worry about scuffing it or dinging it while I was working on something else. In here it should be relatively out of the way.” She was babbling. What was wrong with her?
JJ leaned to the side, stretching around him to move the edges of the long drapery out of his way as he set the heavy piece of furniture down. The sheriff straightened as he pivoted toward her, but she was so close that his nose brushed her cheek.
And he froze.
His eyes glittered bright, wild and confused, as they peered into hers. His nostrils flared and he leaned closer, close enough for his breath to stir the loosened tendrils of hair at her temple, once…twice.
He was smelling her again, drawing her scent in just as he had that night in the woods when he’d pinned her beneath him. He drew her scent in as if he were savoring it…as if it were the last thing he’d ever do on this planet. JJ was too stunned to move away. It was like finding herself in the roll of prey, trapped in the crosshairs of a hunter’s dangerous weapon, knowing she needed to flee, but instinctively sensing that so much as a flinch would trigger the inevitable attack.
Leaning back—though he didn’t take so much as a single step away—he opened his mouth, only to snap it closed without uttering a sound. His frown intensified. A strange grimace flitted across his features, as if he were in acute pain. His emerald eyes widened and…dilated? Then he blinked and his 94
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expression went utterly blank, all emotion carefully tucked away, shuttered behind eyes that had gone strangely dark. She stared up at him, catching the edge of her lower lip between her teeth, baffled.
What had just happened here?
Whatever it was, it felt…momentous.
Weird.
No, her mind must have been playing tricks on her. That’s it. Nothing more.
Again, he took her by surprise. His brow crinkled with unexpected concern, and his odd stare turned serious. His voice was tight, thick, when he warned, “You be sure to get help moving that thing.
Don’t try doing it alone. You’ll hurt yourself.” His eyes bore into hers for a moment more, intense and too discerning. He bent forward at the waist…just the slightest bit…and drew another deep, if cautious breath. He was smelling her. There was no doubt about it. And it made no sense.
Still, she couldn’t move away.
The room seemed so full of him all of a sudden, too full. The scent of him went straight to her head.
Soap and masculine heat. Woodsy and wild. All male. His hair was tousled, like he’d driven hell bent for redemption with the windows rolled down every mile of the way. Her fingers itched with the fierce need to tangle and grip.
Stunned, she forced another swallow, tore her gaze from his. Only now realizing Ginny hadn’t followed them inside, JJ spun on her heel and hurried through the wide doorway as fast as possible without being too obvious. No sound of footsteps followed her down the hallway or back out onto the porch, but she dare not look, too afraid of losing herself in that unsettling emerald stare again.
Warm sunlight caressed her skin and fresh air enveloped her as she shot out of the house and skidded across the warped boards on the now empty 95
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porch. She drew in a greedy lungful of air, but she couldn’t dispel the scent of him. It clung to her as if he’d rubbed himself all over her, intoxicating and alluring, lingering on the edge of her awareness, imprinting the memory of itself on her soul.
Bemused, she staggered down the stairs and over to the back of Ginny’s truck. Stopping at the tailgate, she reached up blindly for another box.
However, just as Ginny bent to hand the box down to her, two impossibly long, incredibly strong arms reached up on either side of her, and an all-too-familiar, rock-wall of a chest brushed at her back.
Heat enveloped her, like the sudden blast of a torch, and her knees shook. Her head swam in the heady scent of him once more. Where had he come from?
How did he manage to move so silently?
“Let me get that. It looks heavy,” his deep voice rumbled close to her ear.
JJ froze, staring up into Ginny’s amused brown eyes. A dimpled grin spread across Ginny’s face as she completely ignored JJ’s gurgle of protest and set the last box into Cam’s steady hands. He couldn’t have stood like that for more than a fraction of a second, with her body trapped between his and the tailgate, locked between his sinewy arms, but when he moved away, lifting the box over her head, the sense of loss nearly brought her to her knees.
Dropping her hands to the tailgate, JJ’s fingertips went white.
“Well, now,” Ginny chirped, flipping an unnecessary glance at her watch. “I best head out. I have just enough time to swing by the school and pick Tanner up on my way back to the store.” She leaped to the ground, agile as a feline, and dusted her palms on the faded thighs of her blue jeans. She shot an approving, meaningful glance from the sheriff to JJ and added, “You’re in capable hands now. We’ll talk later, JJ.” Aiming a secretive grin 96
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over JJ’s shoulder, she added, “I’ll catch ya ‘round, Cam.”
“Ginny,” he drawled. A hint of sarcasm waffled through each syllable.
The reverberation of the truck’s creaking door slamming shut loosened JJ’s death grip on the tailgate. Recalling herself, she stepped back, facing Cam as the truck began to roll down the lane. They were alone now.
All. Alone.
Irrational panic swelled. She remembered, all too well, the way his body had reacted the last time they’d been alone…and the way her own body had reacted. Of course, they weren’t exactly horizontal this time, but it didn’t take a very large stretch of her imagination to picture them that way. Nor did it stretch the boundaries of that same, overactive imagination to recall the tempered steel of his erection pressing against the juncture of her thighs.
The mere memory brought back the flutter—and the ache—in the pit of her stomach.
Mortified heat rushed up her neck, exploding in her cheeks. Small wonder her hair didn’t simply ignite, for steam was surely rolling from her ears.
Her guilty gaze swerved to his, and her eyes widened. The grin tugging at his sensual lips was just a shade too smug for her comfort. The intense interest in his eyes was a tad too concentrated.
Maybe his imagination was as boundless as her own.
Then again, perhaps her face had been an open book with every sordid little image displayed with Technicolor clarity. The light in his eyes would have made the Devil’s own blush like an inexperienced adolescent and look away in modest embarrassment.
“Um,” she mumbled, drowning in a sea of confusion.
Never before had anyone… anyone…ever affected her as this man could with nothing more 97
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than a simple, innocent look. Damn him. Her gaze shot to his face, and she amended the innocent portion of that thought. There probably wasn’t an innocent bone in his entire body.
“Miss Frost?” His voice was velvety warm, holding an odd note of curiosity that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the box in his hands.
“Yes, this way.” She whirled around and scurried back up the stairs before he could say anything more.
After a momentary pause, he followed her into the house and down the long hallway, into the kitchen.
“You can just put that box there on the table.
Thank you.” He did as she requested, and turned to face her once more, but she was already spinning away, edging toward the back door. Her head still felt muddled from the last time she’d gotten lost in his eyes. “I don’t want to take up anymore of your time, since it’s your day off. The shed’s out this way.” Duh, JJ, she muffled a self-conscious groan.
Like he didn’t already know that.
She grappled with the doorknob. The door refused to cooperate, and she
cursed beneath her breath. Before she could move away, a large, warm hand settled over hers on the knob. His other hand landed, slow and easy, on the doorjamb just past her left shoulder. He’d boxed her in again. His breath caressed the back of her neck. His scent and his heat surrounded her, filled her. Instantaneous and scorching.
“Let me,” he murmured at her temple, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
The door yielded to him with astonishing ease, and she cursed beneath her breath once more. A soft chuckle slipped around her earlobe, and she tugged her hand from beneath his. Jerking the door open, she fled the cage of his arms.
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Again, his feet were silent as they followed her down the back steps and across the yard. Stopping beside the broken lock where it lay in the grass, she tried to marshal her wits. All she had to do was keep it together until he left.
“Were you storing anything valuable out here?” His voice broke the silence, from just over her shoulder, and she jumped, inadvertently brushing back against him. How did he keep doing that? It’s like he was always… there.
It took a long, shaky heartbeat for his words to click into place. Jerking a hasty step forward, away from him, she forced a swallow and angled sideways, though she was careful to keep her gaze on the shed when she responded. “No, just some old stuff I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep.”
“Has anyone tampered with the doors or the windows on the house?”
That gave her pause. “I…I don’t think so.”
“Well, all the same,” he mumbled, his voice aimed toward the ground as he scanned the area.
“You should replace those locks…they’re old, not very reliable. You’ll have to get yourself some sturdy deadbolts, too. Get someone to check the locks on the windows.”
“I’ll check them tonight,” she assured him, her gaze following the fluid motion of his hands—strong calloused hands—as he examined the broken lock and the marks the intruder left behind on the wood planking of the shed.
Her answer must not have been what he’d been hoping to hear. The look he shot over his shoulder, unimpressed and rife with irritation, said as much.
He let a long breath seep out, and the muscle along his jaw bunched. One corner of his mouth hitched up in a wry twist, and he shook his head as he turned back to his careful examination. A jumble of words rolled out of his mouth, low and muted, as though 99
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they weren’t meant for her ears. All the same, she understood the gist of his one-sided conversation.
Her response was immediate and sharp, honed with the snapping edges of temper, “Excuse me?
What did you say?”
“I heard you were hell bent on doing it all for yourself. Just didn’t figure you for stupid.” His head turned, and he pinned her with a hard stare while she sputtered indignantly. “Gambling with your safety is stupid. Much as I hate to say it, Sutter Hollow isn’t exactly crime free…not lately at least.
Do I need to remind you of the dead woman we found out in those woods?” He shot a thumb over his shoulder toward the tree line behind him. She was beginning to think that thumb thing was a local’s specialized way of communication. Just sling a thumb in a general direction, and people will know exactly what you’re talking about…or where. “You should have a professional come out and take a look at—”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why? Why do I need a professional to take a look at anything?” She glared at him, building a fine head of steam. That was the second time he’d called her stupid. She didn’t care for it one little bit.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted her chin, narrowing her eyes. “Because I’m a woman, I can’t protect myself? Because I don’t have the right set of chromosomes, I can’t defend myself? Because I don’t have a pair of—”
“I didn’t say that,” he growled as he straightened, facing her fully. Little grooves dug in between his brows. “I just meant a professional will know what points of weaknesses to focus on. It’s just a matter of common sense.”
She was sure her arched eyebrow spoke volumes, but he completely missed the warning sign 100
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and jumped head first into his topic, paddling on in blissful male ignorance. “It’s not just the locks on the doors and windows, it’s little things like parking your car in well lit areas, carrying your keys in your hands just so, always having your cell phone charged, and learning some basic self-defense moves.”
His condescending attitude slapped at her pride.
Any woman with half an ounce of common sense in her head already knew everything he was telling her. The fact that he figured she needed to hear it was just…insulting.
“Tell me, Sheriff, do you offer these helpful tidbits to all the women…or just the ones you’ve personally assaulted?” JJ’s other eyebrow joined the first, and her gaze dropped to points south of his belt for the briefest flicker of a moment. “In case you’ve already forgotten, I can handle myself.” Courtesy of Jerry Dewitt, JJ knew better than anyone that the only person she could trust to take care of her…was her. She was the last person he needed to provide with self-defense pointers. When she wasn’t at a severe disadvantage, namely with a two hundred pound male pinning her to the ground, she wouldn’t hesitate to bring a man to his knees anyway she needed to.
The cringe of remembrance wrinkling his brow brought an unexpected surge of laughter gurgling into the back of her throat. That brought her up short. Biting the edge of her lip, she took a step back. She only wished the extra space could lend her the perspective she was missing. The good sheriff also took a step back, angling his head to the side.
That same, oddly pained expression he’d worn in the house earlier settled on his face again.
“Right…” He drew the word out, letting it trail away into an awkward silence. Turning back to the shed door, he took a chip of the peeling paint into his 101
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fingers, shaking his head as it crumbled to tiny fragments in his palm. Clearing his throat, he adopted a cool, professional tone. “It’s doubtful I’ll be able to lift any prints from this.” He pulled a pen from his back pocket and hooked it through the loop on the lock. “I’ll take the lock in though, might be able to get something from this.” He set the lock on the rough ledge of a windowsill. “Let’s go in, see if anything is damaged or missing.” JJ drew a deep breath and followed him inside.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the shadows. Mellow sunlight gleamed in sparse streaks here and there, wherever wood had aged and separated, gilding dust motes, turning them to fairy dust. The small doorway provided enough illumination to keep them from stumbling over the haphazard array of clutter filling the small space, but shadows lingered around the edges, making the storage area seem smaller than it was. The large, double doors along the far wall were still braced from the inside.
Preoccupied with taking mental inventory, JJ
was half a second late in realizing he’d stopped walking. She crashed into his back, and, once again, it was like hitting a brick wall. She bounced back a step and collided with a table lamp, knocking it to the hard packed dirt. The clatter echoed inside the shed, and the bulb shattered. She gasped, her arms flailing at her sides as she tried to regain her balance. The room tipped to a dizzying angle and darkness swam before her eyes as another flash jerked her off kilter.
Jerry would know right where to look, and he’d find her faster than she was prepared to die. Not that she wanted to die. She’d never be ready to die. Oh, God, Sarah… She fumbled the vase for a moment in palms damp with sweat and blood, her mind screaming desperate prayers. The white crockery 102
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stayed in her hands, its blue, hand-painted flowers and vines remained intact, and a ragged whisper of relieved breath slipped past her bloodied lips…
A large body whirled on her. Strong hands clamped down on her shoulders, steadying her,
jerking her against a solid chest, back to the here and now. Desperation clawed through her and she pushed him away with shaking hands. It took a moment to focus on the present.
“Are you all right? What happened?” The sheriff peered hard into her face, concern shadowed his brow. She shoved at him again, and he dropped his hands to his sides. “You’re as white as a sheet.”
“I…I’m f-fine, I’m fine,” she stuttered, pushing the words through trembling lips. Maybe if she said it enough it would start to feel like it was true.
She must not have been convincing enough, because his hands were back, stroking up and down her chilled arms in an extraordinarily familiar, comforting way. His rich voice murmured gentle sounds—the words weren’t quite discernable—but the overall effect soothed the rough edges. Then his face was close, so very close, and she could taste his breath as it feathered over her lips. Unsettled, JJ
braced her hands against his chest, and the heat of his flesh burned her palms through the thin, soft barrier of his cotton shirt. The dark shape of a tattoo, covering a large portion of his chest, appeared through the worn material. She could barely make out the outline. What mark would he have branded on his perfect body? The mere thought was intriguing.
Her focus swerved back to his mouth. A sensual mouth if ever she’d seen one. She wanted his lips on hers, with an intensity that terrified her.
But it was all happening so fast, the swift kick of desire so close on the heels of another terrifying flash. And there was just so much of him, in such a 103
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small space. Again. She was overwhelmed. So much so, that even as she prepared herself for his kiss, she abruptly pushed at his chest and insisted, “No.” He didn’t move an inch. All she accomplished was shoving herself back against the rough-hewn wall. But that was safe. Distance. Space. She pressed herself there for a moment and watched him, wide-eyed, a mouse waiting for the cat to spring. Rough splinters of wood and the sharp tip of a nail bit through her worn T-shirt, abrading her skin. He wore that pained, vaguely horrified expression again, and she couldn’t quite figure that out. Drawing a ragged breath, he stepped away, taking his own precious bit of space.