Steve unlocked the door and allowed her into the cabin, and then closed and secured the locks.
“Are you hungry?” Whitney asked, and wondered if she should have asked a question so leading. Hunger could be construed in different ways. Not that she didn’t want the man standing in front of her. She did. She just didn’t want to come across as some kind of wanton woman.
He smiled. “Maybe you could teach me how to cook.”
Whitney returned his smile and took his hand. “We’ll start with something easy.”
“That might be wise.”
She reached into a cabinet and took out a saucepan and handed it to him. “Fill that halfway to the top with water and put it on the stove on medium heat.”
While he did as instructed, Whitney walked to the pantry and got a jar of tomato sauce and a package of pasta.
She returned to his side, adding a pinch of salt to the water.
“Would you like a beer?” he asked.
Whitney hadn’t had alcohol in ages. She thought sipping one wouldn’t hurt, might actually relax her a bit. “Sure.”
He grabbed her one out of the refrigerator, popped the top and handed her the bottle. She took a sip and winced. Now she remembered why she didn’t drink.
She placed the bottle onto the counter and opened the pasta and dumped it into the boiling water. “Do you like your pasta fully cooked or with a bit of a bite?”
He shrugged. “Surprise me.” He moved to stand behind her at the stove, his nearness instantly stirring her body.
Whitney inhaled, his musky scent only adding to her discomfort.
“How long do you let the pasta boil?” he asked right next to her ear, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity shooting down to her toes. She had to get some distance from him or she’d forget about cooking altogether.
Whitney slid away and took another sip of her beer. “About fifteen minutes.” Why did her voice sound different?
“Do I make you nervous, Whitney.”
His question had her looking up at him. “Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?”
“You don’t seem to want me near you.”
“It’s not that, Steve. It’s just the opposite, but I’m supposed to be teaching you how to cook. Remember?”
“Am I distracting you?”
“As a matter of fact.”
He smirked. “I’m sorry.”
Why didn’t he look sorry?
She turned back to the stove. Looking at him did strange things to her stomach.
Whitney stirred the pasta. This was going to be the longest meal prep in history. She’d already started to sweat.
She picked up the bottle of beer and took a long swallow, getting used to the bitter taste. “Aren’t you having a beer?” she asked when she noticed she was the only one drinking.
“I need to stay alert.”
“Do you really think this guy would come out in this horrible weather?”
“I don’t think a tornado would stop him if he intended to snatch you.”
His revelation sent her stomach south. Steve was worried about this guy. She could see it in his eyes, but he’d tried to hide it from her.
Whitney turned back to the stove and checked the pasta. “This is done. See if you can find a strainer while I open the sauce.”
“Strainer?” His brows knitted together.
“It looks like a bowl with a bunch of holes in it.”
He crouched down and looked into the cabinet doors, then pulled something out. “Is this it?”
“Yes.”
She took the bowl from him and placed it into the sink. Using potholders, she took the steaming pan off the stove and dumped it into the strainer.
While the pasta drained, she poured the sauce into the pan to heat.
“Go ahead and sit down,” she said, “I’ll get some plates.”
Steve sat at the table and watched. Whitney filled one plate with pasta and sauce and set the food and silverware in front of him. Then she went to get her a plate.
He took a bite and smiled. “Not bad.”
Whitney forked the pasta and moved it through the sauce before popping it into her mouth.
“Can I ask you a question, Steve?”
“Sure. What?”
“You said you got that scar from a bullet. What happened?”
He looked at her intently. “It was bad luck actually. We were working a case — had been for about thirty-six hours. Needless to say, I was dead on my feet. I stopped to get some coffee at an all-night convenience store. If I wouldn’t have been so tired, I might have noticed the strange look the woman behind the counter gave me when I entered. After that, everything is fuzzy. I did go for my gun. Too late. I took one in my back as I dove for cover. I was in the hospital almost a month recovering. I learned later the woman working there was killed.”
“That’s terrible. Is there a lot of violence in Denver?”
“Not as much as some cities. But we have our share. It’s all so senseless. That woman died because of a few dollars in a cash register.”
“I could never live there.”
“Crime is everywhere, Whitney. I think you’ve come to realize that in the past few days.”
Whitney shook her head. “Let’s change the subject, talk about you. Tell me about yourself?”
“There’s nothing to tell. You already know I was raised by a single mom. You know, that could be why this guy is killing these women. Maybe he was raised by one who wasn’t what he considered a good mother.”
“That definitely could be a possibility. How do we find that out?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll talk to Bryan tomorrow about this — see if he thinks I could be on the right track. Maybe this guy’s mother had dark hair and green eyes. Maybe he resented not having a father. Who knows? But at least it’s something else we could explore.”
Whitney finished her pasta and went to rinse her plate. She seriously thought Steve was on the right track with his idea of the killer hating single mothers because of his own.
She stored the rest of the pasta and sauce in the refrigerator, and then filled the sink with hot water and detergent. “Let me help.” Steve handed her his plate.
“I’ll wash. You can dry.” Whitney tossed him a towel and it took them only a few minutes to finish cleaning up.
“I think I’ll go take a bath,” she said suddenly feeling uncomfortable with being alone with him.
“Okay.” He looked anxious himself.
Whitney was glad to know she wasn’t the only one feeling the tension.
She grabbed her pajamas and headed for the bathroom. She quickly filled the tub, pouring a little of her bubble bath inside. The fragrance filled the air around her and put her in a dreamy mood.
Then she removed her clothes and eased down into the warm, soapy water, sighing with contentment. She laid her head back against the rim and allowed her mind to drift back to Steve. She’d promised herself never to get emotionally involved with a man again but she was afraid she had with him. She could no longer fight the feelings and it wasn’t just sexual anymore. There was something else there. He treated Kylie with nothing but kindness. That told her what type of man he was. He’d be a good father to her daughter and any children they’d have together. But would he be willing to leave Denver? She didn’t think so. He thrived on the craziness of city life. How could he be content in a sleepy little town like Marble?
A knock on the door had her sloshing water over the sides of the tub. “Yes.”
“You okay in there?”
Whitney’s body started to hum. “Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” She’d never taken a bath with a man. She might have been missing something.
The door opened
and Steve stepped inside, his eyes turning dark.
“Care to join me?” Whitney surprised herself by her brazenness.
He smiled and unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. “I can’t say that I’ve ever bathed with anyone before.”
She gave him a shy smile. “That makes two of us.”
He removed his jeans and boxers and stepped into the tub while Whitney admired his chiseled body. He slid down across from her and sighed. “The water smells like you. I love it.”
Whitney inhaled, so drawn to him. “It’s lilacs.”
He crooked a finger for her to come to him.
Whitney didn’t hesitate a second but slid over his body, his hand cupping the back of her neck to draw her in for a warm kiss that turned from sweet to passionate in a matter of seconds and charged Whitney’s body to life. His hands slid purposely down her back to cup her behind, drawing her up against his hard erection. Fire pooled in her belly and she moaned against his mouth, rubbing her body on his. He groaned and made her womb contract. His mouth left hers and he sucked on one of her earlobes, the sensation sending tingling sensations shooting down her backbone. “I think we should get out and dry off. I want to make love to you, Whitney.”
She nodded and rose from the tub, the frothy white bubbles sliding down her body. He grabbed a towel and dried her body.
Whitney watched his smoldering eyes as he did so. He made her feel beautiful. He wrapped the towel around his waist, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the bed.
Before joining her, he walked over to his jacket and pulled a box from the inside pocket. He removed one of the foiled packages and placed the others on the table next to the bed. As she watched him, he released his towel and let it fall to the floor.
Whitney’s heart thrummed wildly in her chest. He covered her body with his and kissed her, his probing tongue instantly finding its way into her mouth.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with abandon, allowing everything but Steve to drift away.
His mouth left hers and skimmed down her shoulder to her breast, his tongue twirling around the nipple, drawing it up tight.
Whitney arched up, reveling in the incredible sensation, her body burning with pleasure.
While his mouth moved to the other breast, his palm slid down her belly to the apex between her legs. He dipped a finger inside her and Whitney sucked in a ragged breath. The man had a magic touch.
His mouth covered hers again as he moved his finger in and out of her until she screamed against his mouth in orgasm.
With his teeth, he tore open the condom package and rolled the latex on, and then brought her hips up to plunge deep into her heat and started to move.
Whitney arched to meet his demand, sweat forming between them, heightening the sensation until she came again, his release only seconds behind her own.
He dropped onto her, and then rolled to his side, taking her with him. Whitney refused to open her eyes. She was at peace for the first time in days and she planned to remain in this relaxed state until morning.
Chapter Fifteen
Steve woke to the smell of coffee brewing. His body felt wonderfully relaxed. Last night’s events came rushing back and brought a smile to his face. No sex had ever been so fulfilling. Whitney satisfied him completely and made him feel whole for the first time in his life.
He glanced toward the kitchen. Whitney stood at the stove in his flannel shirt. It certainly never looked that good on him. She reached up into a cabinet and Steve caught a glimpse of her firm, rounded behind.
Jesus Christ. For the past six months, he couldn’t achieve an erection, now he couldn’t get rid of it. Not with Whitney McAllister around.
She turned and caught him watching her. “Morning,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “I hope you don’t mind me wearing your shirt?”
Steve smiled. “Not at all. I was just thinking about how good you make it look.”
The pinkness in her cheeks grew brighter.
She held up a mug. “Coffee”
“I’d love some.”
She filled a cup and padded over to him. As she leaned in to hand him the mug, he caught a glimpse of her generous breasts at the V of his shirt.
Steve sat up and sipped his coffee. If he didn’t have a case to solve, he’d insist she come back to bed and repeat what they’d shared the night before. He’d love to just stay here in their cozy cabin and get to know her better. It’d been hard to ask her questions not knowing how much her daughter knew or she wanted her to know.
He placed his cup on the nightstand and stood to pull on his pants. He strode to the table and sat. “Can I ask you a question?”
She turned from the stove. “Sure, what?”
“You said that Kylie’s dad has never seen her. What happened with him?”
She didn’t answer right away, but shifted her stance and turned back to the stove. “He met a rich tourist when I was almost six months pregnant and ran off with her. I haven’t heard from him since.”
Steve’s jaw slacked. How could any man do that to a pregnant woman — let alone a gorgeous, sexy one like Whitney?
“He’d clearly been out of his head,” Steve said. “He’d have to be to choose another woman over you.”
She turned and gave him a wry smile. “I think it was the money. She threw it around like paper. Wyatt came from modest means. I think he got caught up in that.”
Steve shook his head. “Money can’t buy love, Whitney. What he got out of leaving with her didn’t compare to what he lost with you and Kylie.”
She smiled again. “That’s nice of you to say. Are you telling me that you’d be willing to give up everything for love?”
That was a good question. Would he give up all he had in Denver for a chance at real love? Wasn’t that what Flint and Dane, his partner, had done? Put everything on the line for the women they ended up marrying? They had, but could he? Was he in love? He had no idea. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced the emotion before. He did feel something for Whitney and for that matter, Kylie, a warm sensation that filled him when he thought about both. But was that love?
“I’m not sure,” he said knowing she expected an answer. It was the best he could do until he had time to examine his feeling more fully.
She turned back to the stove. Was she angry with his choice of words? Had she expected him to tell her he’d leave Denver and come live in Marble for her?
Hell, Whitney had never said anything to give him the notion she cared about him in that way. She seemed pretty independent. He didn’t think she even wanted a man to take care of her. Then again, after her ex’s betrayal, could he really blame her? He didn’t even know the guy and he wanted to pound him into the ground for treating her like that.
Her setting a plate in front of him brought his attention back to her. She sat across from him and picked at her eggs. The way she held herself erect revealed loud and clear she was indeed angry.
“After breakfast we need to go pick up Kylie and then head over to the Frys’ to talk to Bryan. Hopefully he’ll have learned something. I also want to mention to him the theory we talked about last night.”
She didn’t look up, just continued to shove her food around her plate. Steve thought it best not to say anything more. Nothing would make her feel better anyway.
He dug into his food. The sooner he finished, the sooner he’d be out of the cabin and away from the unintentional tension he’d caused.
Women. He didn’t understand how to handle any of them.
He stuffed the last of the eggs into his mouth, and then rose from the table and walked to the sink to rinse his plate.
The least he could do was wash the dishes since she’d prepared breakfast. “I can do those,” she said as he ran water in the sink.
; “I’ll get them. You go ahead and get dressed.”
She hesitated, and then brought her plate to him and headed for her suitcase on the floor in front of the bed. Steve scraped her plate and dipped it into the soapy water. When he’d dried the last of the dishes, Whitney stepped out of the bathroom. “Can we stop by the center before driving to Bethany’s? I’m worried about Mason.”
There was that niggling hint of jealousy again. Why did he care if Whitney was concerned about her boss? “Of course. I just finished up. Let me throw on a shirt and my socks and boots, then we can go.”
• • •
Whitney stood back and watched Steve. She really had no reason to be angry with him but she couldn’t help her feelings. She’d given herself to him completely and he treated her like she was just a passerby in his busy life.
Why had she even thought that’d mean anything to a man like him? She was a small-town girl with a child. Why would he want that? He probably had a string of women back in Denver, one for every day of the week, plus an uncomplicated life. Why would he leave that behind? Especially for the likes of her, a woman with baggage.
“You ready?” He stood next to the door.
She nodded and padded toward him. She’d just pretend nothing had changed, and then she’d find a way for her and Kylie to slip away and try to get on with her life. She couldn’t do that with him around, making her want him more.
At the rec center, she jumped out and headed for the door. She didn’t care if Steve followed or not. It wasn’t like he’d respect her wishes if she asked him to wait in the vehicle anyway.
Whitney went straight to her boss’s office and knocked.
“Come in.”
Relief washed over her at the sound of Mason’s voice. She stepped inside. “Hi. Where were you yesterday? I came by after cleaning the cabins and you weren’t around.”
Her boss nodded. “I had to go to Carbondale to get a few things.”
“Did you hear about Harold?”
“Yeah. I’m glad the café will be closed for the festival today. I went in last night and found money missing from the back. I think somebody broke in and caught Harold off-guard and then found the stash.”
Watching Whitney Page 12