Did it?
There’s nothing wrong with a little company every now and then.
Nana’s words rang in her head. For a flicker of a second, Nikki considered it. Could she let herself get involved with Dallas O’Connor? Could she do it without losing herself? Could she do it without losing her heart? Without completely making someone her whole life as she had with Jack? Jack who had betrayed her. Jack who was now dead.
Now was not the time. But was there ever a good time?
Bud let out a loud snort from the end of the sofa.
Still beneath the covers, she heard a door open. Was that Dallas going into his office? She heard footsteps, only they seemed to be coming toward her rather than leaving. A deep laugh filled the room, but it didn’t sound like…
“You still can’t get her to sleep with you? Did you tell her you were hung like a racehorse?”
Okay, definitely not Dallas.
Unable to resist a grin, Nikki yanked the covers from her face. “He forgot to tell me.”
Bud barked.
“Shit!” The man—dark black hair and warm brown eyes—took about three steps back, slammed into the coffee table, and sent the glass of water she had on the table crashing down to shatter by his feet. “I’m sorry. I thought… Oh shit!”
“Shit, what?” A deep voice boomed from behind her.
Sitting up, she looked away from the shocked man and shattered glass to where Dallas stood in the hallway wearing a… towel. Just a towel. And he wore it well. Lots of warm olive-colored skin, hard abs, a chest lightly dusted with hair, shoulders that begged to be leaned on, and thick dark hair that curled at the ends when wet. It took all of Nikki’s strength not to sigh out loud.
“I… I thought. Nothing,” the stranger said.
“You thought what?” Dallas asked.
“I… thought she was you,” he confessed. “She was covered up—”
“What did you do?” Dallas glared at the man. “Not the horn?”
“No.” He picked up the biggest piece of broken glass. “I’ll get this up.”
“Just go,” Dallas said.
Obviously embarrassed, the man left Dallas’s apartment. Bud jumped down and ran into the kitchen while Dallas looked at Nikki. Aware of how her body tensed beneath his gaze, Nikki drew the covers to her neck.
Bud barked. Dallas gripped his towel. “I need to…” He turned abruptly, walked into the kitchen and let the dog out. She watched him walk, taking in his bare feet and long thick legs, then averted her gaze when he sauntered back into the living room.
“That was Tyler,” he said.
“The other PI?” She tried not to look below his chin, but it was hard to not look at perfection.
He nodded. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
Their eyes lifted at the same time, met and held. “I’m gonna get dressed,” he said.
Good idea.”
A grin tilted his lips as if he knew she liked what she saw. “The coffee’s ready. Help yourself. Don’t… cut yourself.” He waved at the broken glass. “I’ll get it in a minute.” He tugged at his towel and walked away.
She watched him move down the hall, even leaned over the edge of the sofa to get a better view. Hung like a racehorse, huh?
“I said I’d get that.” Dallas walked into the living room five minutes later.
Nikki looked back at him with what he hoped was appreciation, because she’d looked at him much the same way when he’d only had on a towel.
“Yeah,” she said. “But Bud’s barking to come back in and I didn’t want him to cut himself.”
She bent over to hold the dustpan, while attempting to sweep up the glass. Dallas lost himself for a second, appreciating her shapely backside encased in soft cotton pajama bottoms. When he caught himself, he took the broom. “Let me. You get yourself some coffee.” He swept the last of glass into the dustpan she held.
“I will.” She stood up.
He followed her as she went to empty the dustpan in the garbage. She stored the dustpan back in the pantry and he added the broom. Bud barked at the door.
He let the dog inside and Bud ran right up to Nikki and started wagging his entire body. “He really likes you.” Dallas pulled two cups from the cabinet.
She knelt and Bud went up to her, all tongue. “I like him, too.” She petted the needy dog, and damn if he didn’t feel as needy as Bud. He swallowed hard.
“How do you take your coffee?”
“Black’s fine.” She stood up.
He passed her a cup. They both sipped, staring at each other over the rims. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d almost broken his promise and touched her. Last night when she’d come out of the bathroom, smelling like toothpaste and soft woman, he’d ached to pull her against him and taste the minty flavor on her lips. And when they talked in the middle of the night, he longed to pull her up off the sofa and take her to his bed.
“We always have doughnuts in the office,” he said. “I’ll bring you one?”
“Just coffee.” She pressed her lips to the rim. “This is good. Thanks.”
He continued to stare. “How bad’s your back hurting?”
She looked back at Bud. “It’s fine.”
He laughed. “What? Does your eyebrow jump when you lie, too?”
She glanced up and grinned. “The sofa wasn’t that bad.”
“I’ll take it tonight.”
“I probably should go home tonight.”
He frowned at her over his cup. “Not yet.” But he wasn’t sure if it was for her safety, or if he just didn’t want her to leave. “I kept my word and haven’t touched you.”
“I can’t stay forever.”
“I’m not asking for forever.” He set his cup on the counter.
Her baby blues stared right at him. “So, what are you asking for?”
Suddenly he wasn’t sure what they were talking about. The one-day-at-a-time speech he’d been giving to himself came to mind, but it didn’t seem appropriate. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Something that looked almost like disappointment flashed in her eyes. Hell, what did she want him to say?
“I’m opening the gallery today. Fridays are good days for sales,” she said as if throwing out words to help the help chase off the awkwardness.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said.
“It’s broad daylight.”
“Would you like to see the statistics of daytime crime versus nighttime crime?” he asked, not liking that he sounded so protective. But was it wrong to not want her to get killed before he proved her innocent?
“I’m not crawling in a hole and hiding,” she countered.
He frowned and, because he understood how she felt, he tried to temper his tone. “Is someone going to be there with you? I’d go, but I have several appointments to keep.”
“The stores on both sides of mine are open. I know the owners. As a matter of fact, I have voice messages from both of them.”
“Were they not open when Ellen got attacked?”
“No. They close earlier than the gallery. But today I’ll close the shop at five instead of seven.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “You have my number on your cell, right?”
She nodded.
“Will you take my calls this time?” he asked.
“If I’m not helping a customer.”
Their eyes met again. “I’ll come by when I get a chance. We’ll do dinner out tonight.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. Is that okay?”
She hesitated. “Okay.”
From that pause and the sound of her voice, Dallas knew she was just as conflicted as he was about where this was leading. The fact that he was willing to even consider that it led somewhere had him wanting to leave skid marks on his kitchen tile.
“I’ll call you.” He left for the office.
Nikki watched him leave. Her he
art started racing. Had she just agreed to go out to dinner with him?
Yup, she had. But that wasn’t the reason her heart was stuck in high gear. She knew if she went to dinner with him, if he brought her back here and made the tiniest advance on her, she’d be his for the taking. And maybe he didn’t even have to make that advance, maybe she’d make it. Look how close she’d come to walking into his bedroom last night.
Would that really have been a bad thing? Wasn’t everyone, Ellen, even her grandmother, constantly telling her she needed to stop taking life so seriously and just have some fun? Okay, her life was a screwed-up mess right now, but if she could just view this as something to help get her through a crisis, would that be so wrong?
Nikki looked down at Bud and dropped her butt on the sofa. The dog crawled up in her lap and nuzzled her neck.
I’m not asking for forever. Dallas’s words whispered through her head. And that was fine. She didn’t want forever. Frankly, she didn’t know if she even believed in forever anymore.
Nikki took the dog’s head in her hands and looked square in his big wrinkly face. “What should I do, Bud? Is it time I stop living on the cautious side and start playing with fire?”
He licked her face.
She pulled the big lug of a dog closer. “Will I get burned to a crisp? Or just singed a little bit? Because if it’s just singed, it might be worth it.”
“What did you do to her?” Dallas demanded as he walked into the office.
Tyler, sitting at his desk, ducked his head. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Austin laughed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “You’re just lucky she didn’t Mace your ass.”
“Spill it,” Dallas said, stepping closer to Tyler.
“Oh, quit worrying.” Austin smirked. “He did you a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Dallas asked Tyler.
“I thought it was you. She was under the covers.” Tyler wiped a hand over his mouth as if to hide his smile.
“And?” Dallas asked.
“I might have mentioned something about you not getting lucky even though you were hung like a racehorse.” Both Tyler and Austin belted out laughter.
Dallas couldn’t help laughing, too. He dropped down in his desk chair and looked at Austin. “I’m sorry you got Maced.”
Austin blinked his still-red eyes. “The Mace is nothing compared to the whole Roxie issue.”
“What happened?” Dallas asked.
“She called me last night and asked me to go to her brother’s wedding.” He raked a hand through his hair. “A wedding invitation is like dinner with the parents.”
Tyler snorted. “She has the hots for you. And let me tell you, I’d crawl under her skirt any day of the week.”
“She’s not my type,” Austin snapped. “She cleans up body parts.”
Dallas got the feeling that the truth was just the opposite. Roxie was too much Austin’s type. The girl reminded Dallas a lot of Austin’s ex-fiancée, Cara. Which meant Austin was afraid that he might actually like Roxie. Which also meant Austin was doing just what Dallas was doing—staying away from women he thought he’d have a hard time walking away from. Pure lust, no emotional attachment.
That’s what he wanted. Wasn’t it?
So what the hell was he doing toying with the idea of getting close to Nikki Hunt?
She had emotional attachment written all over her soft body and sassy smile. Even worse, she made him wish… Oh hell, no!
Dallas took a deep breath. One damn day at a time. He repeated the words in his head like a litany and then glanced over at Tyler. “Does your cousin still do that interior design stuff?”
“Which cousin? I’ve got like fifty.”
“The one who offered to get furniture and decorate my place.”
“Oh, Estella. Yeah, she’s still doing it.”
“See if she can get me a new sofa. Today.”
Tyler started typing on his computer keyboard. “What kind of sofa?”
“Comfortable. It can be pink as long as it’s comfortable to sleep on and here in my living room by this afternoon. And tell her to take the one that’s in there when she leaves.”
“Done,” Tyler said, hitting one final key.
“Good,” Dallas said. “Let’s get to business. What’s going on with Roberto?”
All traces of humor faded from Tyler’s face. “He’s coming by to grab the cash this afternoon.”
“How much?” Dallas asked.
“He’s not sure what he’ll need. I offered five thousand, and we may have to buy that much in drugs to get them to talk to us.”
“Do we have enough in the business account to cover it?”
“Yup, thanks to our resident clown.” Tyler glanced at Austin. “Mrs. Mallard mailed us a nice little check.”
“Did you call Nance and tell him to meet me here this morning?”
“He said he’d be here by nine. But he wasn’t happy about making another trip to the police station.”
“You explained this was to help him?” Dallas looked at his watch. He had an hour.
“Yup. Still wasn’t happy. But he said he’d be here. I’m still waiting to hear back from Nance’s attorney. It may be Monday before we can get in.”
“Just make it as soon as possible. After I take Nance to see Tony, I’m going to the restaurant and see if I can find out who served Jack Leon his poisoned gumbo. Then I’ve got an appointment at Brian and Sterns myself to talk about Serena’s custody battle over Bud. Hopefully, someone will give me something about Jack Leon or Andrew Brian.”
“You going to let them know you’re working on the Leon case?” Tyler asked.
“What they don’t know can’t hurt them.” Dallas picked up a pen and rolled it between his palms. “Did you get anything else on Andrew Brian?”
“Just that he got into some trouble the first year in college. Drug trouble.”
“How bad was it?”
“Don’t know. I discovered it through an old newspaper clipping. Daddy got him off.”
“That’s the one kind of trouble that has a tendency to follow people. See if you can find anything on him having a drug habit now.”
Austin put his empty coffee cup on his desk. “I’m going to hit the streets and see if I can uncover any more DeLuna deals in the making. I got a tip there’s a new guy hanging out at the pool hall off Jefferson.”
“You don’t trust Roberto to keep us abreast?” Tyler asked.
“Yes. But why not do a little legwork myself?”
“Be careful,” Dallas said.
Austin grinned. “I’m always careful.”
Tyler laughed. “Which explains how you got Maced.”
“If I don’t get anywhere, I was going to snoop around Jack Leon’s place and see if any of the neighbors are talkative. Maybe find out who he’s been banging lately. I’m still betting this revolves around some woman.”
“Good idea.” Dallas looked at Tyler. “You got any new questions?”
“Just one,” he said. “How come you two got women hanging all over you, and I don’t? I mean it’s obvious I’m the better-looking one.”
“That’s, easy.” Austin wadded up a scrap piece of paper and tossed it at Tyler. “It’s because we’re both hung like racehorses.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
FIVE MINUTES LATER, after snagging a doughnut, Dallas wondered if Nikki might have changed her mind about breakfast. Remembering how he ran out on her, he put the last chocolate-covered doughnut on a plate and took it to Nikki as a peace offering.
He stepped into his apartment and heard Nikki moan. She stood, holding on to the living room chair, one foot held up in the air.
“What is it?” he asked.
She grimaced. “Glass.”
“Shit. How bad?” He dropped the doughnut on the coffee table and knelt beside her.
“It’s nothing. Just hurts when I walk on it.”
He wrapped his hand around her ank
le and stared at the bottom of her foot. “No blood.” He ran a finger down the arch. Even the woman’s foot was soft. “Where’s it at?”
“The heel.” She looked over her shoulder and down at him. “You see it?”
“No. But the light’s bad in here.” He stood and scooped her into his arms.
“Whoa.” She pressed a hand on his chest. “What are you doing?”
As he started down the hall, he remembered picking her up in the hospital and passing a hand over her bare ass. Something told him she was thinking about that, too. “Carting you off to my bedroom to play doctor.” He grinned. “What I wanted to do last night.” Damn, she felt good in his arms, light and feminine.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He pushed the door open with his foot and Bud followed. “The light’s better in the bedroom and I have tweezers in here.”
“You didn’t have to carry me.”
“You said it hurt when you walked.” Leaning down, he placed her on his bed. Bracing himself on one knee, and bracketing his arms on each side of her, he stared at her. “You look good in my bed.” Grinning, and supporting himself with one arm, he decided the no-touching rule was null and passed a hand over her cheek. “Let me gather my supplies.”
He ran to the bathroom to snag the alcohol and cotton balls, and then came back into the bedroom for his tweezers and a needle. She watched him. And he, her. The short time with her in his arms had gotten his blood singing.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” She pushed up on one elbow.
“I was trained by the best.” He sat down and brought her foot into his lap. “My brother and I hated wearing shoes. Mom was constantly getting splinters out of our feet.”
“How long ago did she pass away?” she asked in a soft voice.
“About eleven months ago.” He saw a flash of sympathy in her eyes.
“While you were in prison, right? She’s the person you were talking about last night.”
“Yeah.” Leaning over, he opened the blinds for more light and held up her foot to study it. “I think I see it.” He lowered her foot, dipped the tweezers and needle in the alcohol then splashed some on her heel. Gently running his hand over her ankle, he said, “It might hurt a bit. Do you need a bullet to bite on?”
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