by Gina Wilkins
He pulled away slowly. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”
“There’s a key in the flowerpot on the right side of the door if I’m asleep when you come back,” she said, her gaze locked with his.
He cleared his throat. “We’ll talk about the recklessness of that hiding place when I return.”
“We can talk about whatever you want,” she murmured, a look of invitation in her brilliant green eyes that almost had him making a dive for the couch again.
He turned and marched out the door before he could change his mind and do something that could never be reversed.
Chapter Ten
Lindsey was sleeping when Dan returned. Drugged by the pain pill she hadn’t wanted to take, she’d fallen asleep on the couch watching cable news. She didn’t know how long she’d been out of it, but she opened her eyes to find Dan sitting in a chair nearby, watching her.
Lying curled on her side, one cheek cushioned by a throw pillow, she gazed back at him without sitting up. “You weren’t gone long.”
“Longer than you think. You’ve probably been asleep for most of the afternoon.”
“It’s those pills,” she grumbled. “They knock me out. I don’t want to take any more of them.”
“You aren’t in any pain?”
Still without moving, she took a mental inventory. “My head hurts a little, I’ve got some sore muscles and a few throbbing bruises, and my mouth is so dry it feels dusty, but other than that, I’ve got no complaints.”
“I’ll get you a glass of water,” he said, standing.
She thought about sitting up while he was gone, but it seemed like too much effort just then. Her grandmother’s afghan was draped over her shoulders; she snuggled a bit more comfortably beneath it and let her eyelids close again. She wasn’t really sleepy now, just still drifting on a medication cloud. She rarely took pills of any sort, and when she did, she usually reacted strongly. She’d joked that ordinary aspirin could knock her out for hours.
She felt Dan’s hand brush her hair back from her face, his touch tender over the bulky bandage. “Are you going back to sleep?”
“No.” She moved against his hand like a sleepy cat. “Just taking my time waking up.”
“You want this water?”
That offer gave her the incentive to open her eyes and push herself upright, with the help of a hand from Dan. He’d put ice in the water, and it tasted cool and wonderful. She drained the glass.
“I needed that,” she said, setting the empty tumbler on the end table and smiling at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She patted the couch beside her, wondering what the odds were that he would give her another one of the amazing kisses. “Sit down?”
He glanced at the couch, and then at the chair in which he’d been sitting earlier. She cleared her throat and patted the couch again.
Though he shot her a somewhat wary frown, he sat, perched almost on the edge of the couch.
Obviously he needed to relax a bit. And the best way to put Chief Dan Meadows at ease was to get him talking about work. “Tell me about the investigations. Has anything new come up?”
“Are you asking as a reporter or as an interested citizen?”
“I’m asking as Lindsey.”
“Oh, in that case…” He gave her a little smile. “None of your business.”
Feigning outrage, she punched his arm.
He laughed and rubbed his bicep. “Okay. I’m kidding. But really, there’s very little new to tell you. There was a report that Eddie Stamps was spotted in Little Rock yesterday, but we haven’t been able to confirm that. The arson inspectors found a couple of leads today—maybe there’s something traceable.”
She lifted her eyebrows at that. “Really? Like what?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I get an official report.”
An annoying answer, but typical of Dan. He wasn’t going to suddenly turn chatty and expansive just because they’d kissed. And speaking of that kiss…
She oh-so-casually scooted a bit closer to him. “What else did you do while you were gone?”
He stretched to reach for the remote to turn down the television, the seemingly idle motion inching him a bit farther away from her. “Not much. Returned some calls, signed off on some paperwork, met for a few minutes with Mrs. Stamps.”
“How’s she holding up?”
“Not very well, as you can imagine. She wants answers about her son.”
“What about the boy’s father? Have you heard from him?”
“Merle’s on a drinking binge, I’m afraid. He’s not saying much of anything. Whether the bender started before his son’s disappearance or because of it, I couldn’t say.”
“You still have no evidence to suggest that Eddie’s met with foul play?”
“None. As I mentioned, one of his schoolmates thought he spotted Eddie at a teen club in Little Rock, but he said he never got close enough to be certain.”
Somehow, Dan had ended up almost pressed against the arm of the couch, with Lindsey still right beside him. He literally had nowhere else to go. As if he’d abruptly become aware of their changing positions, he frowned down at her. “Why do I have this sudden sensation that I’m being stalked like a twelve-point buck in deer season?”
“And why do I suddenly feel like an amorous teenage boy trying to get to second base with his skittish date?”
Dan smiled a bit nervously in response to her teasing. “I’m trying to be sensible here.”
“Why?”
He blinked. “Because someone has to be.”
She rested a hand on his thigh, feeling the muscles tense beneath the denim. “Why?”
“Lindsey—”
Because he had said her name in just that tone again, she giggled, feeling deliciously bold. Maybe it was the bump on her head that was causing her to act so out of character with Dan—or maybe it was just time for her to fish or cut bait, as her father would have said. Whatever the catalyst, she had Dan’s full attention now. She would hate to waste yet another opportunity to find out if there was any chance of a future for them together.
Dan’s expression suddenly turned serious. “We need to slow this down.”
“Slow down?” She sighed gustily. “Dan, we’ve known each other for twenty years! How much more time do you think we need?”
He looked vaguely sheepish, but stubbornly persisted with his argument. “We’ve known each other as friends. Professional associates, in some ways. It’s only very recently there’s been any hint of anything else.”
“It’s only very recently you’ve started noticing those hints,” she amended. “And, correct me if I’m wrong—you don’t seem to be trying too hard to escape.”
“You aren’t wrong,” he conceded after a very long moment, making her pulse speed up again. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested. I just want to be…careful.”
He was interested. That was exactly what she’d wanted to hear. “Okay. So, now what?”
Again, her directness seemed to take him aback. “Well…uh…”
“I need some guidelines here, Dan. Are we going to try dating? See each other discreetly in private until we want to go public? Keep pretending we’re just friends while you think about this some more?”
He scowled. “Hell, Lindsey, I don’t know.”
“Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, but I like things spelled out. Straightforward. Out in the open.”
His mouth twisted ruefully. “No kidding, hotshot reporter.”
“I’m not talking about my work.”
“No, but you could be. Your passion for getting everything out in the open is what led you into journalism in the first place.”
“Probably. But anyway, what I’m saying is—”
The ringing of a telephone cut through her words. Dan reached automatically for his shirt pocket. Lindsey smiled and shook her head. “That’s mine. I turned the ringers back on after you left.”<
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The phone was on the end table beside Dan. She had to stretch over him to reach it. She deliberately took her time doing so. She was rewarded by a sound from Dan that might have been a low groan.
Oh, yeah, she thought, picking up the receiver. She was getting to him. “Hello?”
“Lindsey? Hi, it’s Bo. I heard you were hurt. Are you okay?”
“Why, Bo, how nice of you to call. I’m fine, thanks. Just a little bruised.”
She felt Dan stiffen against her even as Bo replied, “The word is going around that you were involved in an explosion while you were covering the latest arson fire.”
“Yes, I was—but fortunately, the injuries were minor.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Any news about the arson investigation? Are the cops any closer to solving the case than they were before?”
“Not as far as I know,” she answered circumspectly.
“Guess I’ll have to keep reading the papers to find out more, huh? So—is there anything I can do for you? I can bring takeout by your house this evening.”
“Thank you, Bo, but I’m getting lots of help.”
“Okay, well—you give a holler if you need anything, you hear?”
“I’ll do that.”
They ended the call on that friendly note. Lindsey hung up her phone, then glanced at Dan, who was scowling rather fiercely. Still leaning against him, she murmured, “That was Bo.”
“So I gathered.”
“He heard I was hurt and called to check on me.”
“Big of him.”
“He was just being nice, Dan.”
“Did he ask you out again?”
That blunt question made her eyebrows rise. “Again?”
“I know you had a date with him earlier this week.”
“Been listening to gossip, Chief?” She knew she hadn’t told him who she’d been out with Monday night.
“Actually, I saw you with him.” Dan looked briefly uncomfortable. “Riley and I had dinner at Kelly’s Monday night.”
Lindsey was taken aback that Dan had been so close to her without her knowledge. It made her uncomfortable to think of him watching her on a date with another man. Not that anything had happened during that date except some bowling and laughter, but still…
“I went out with him because you made me mad,” she confessed.
“You went out with him to spite me?”
“To move on from you,” she corrected him.
That silenced him for a moment. He looked down at her hand, which still rested on his thigh. “That’s probably the smartest thing for you to do,” he said after a while.
She swallowed before asking, “Is that what you want me to do?”
He covered her hand with his. “No. Damn it.”
The grudging mutter startled another quick laugh from her. “Try to restrain your enthusiasm, will you, Chief?”
“I’ve been trying to restrain myself,” he answered, reaching for her. “It isn’t working.”
Tumbling into his arms, she lifted her face to his. “I’m very glad to hear that,” she murmured just before his mouth covered hers.
There was nothing platonic or fraternal about this embrace. Dan kissed her in a way that left no further doubt that he saw her as a grown woman—and a desirable one, at that. She could tell he was taking care with her bruises, but that was the only way in which he held back.
The kiss thrilled her to her toes.
Oblivious to whatever aches and pains lingered from her mishap, she threw her arms around him and returned the kiss with all the enthusiasm she’d been holding back for so very long. There might have been twinges of physical discomfort, but they were far overshadowed by pleasure. As many times as she had fantasized about kissing Dan, reality was even better than imagination.
A small shift on his part had her sitting in his lap, her arms locked around his neck, his hands sliding down her back in a preliminary foray of exploration. She almost purred.
His mouth was firm, warm, so very clever. He kissed her deeply, softly. And then he tilted his head to try a different angle, this time more firmly.
She could have happily kept trying variations of that kiss for hours.
And then Dan’s phone buzzed.
Both of them groaned simultaneously. Reluctantly releasing her mouth, Dan rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve known all along that this came with the territory.” She wanted to make it very clear that she was no Melanie, competing with his job for his attention. “Answer your call.”
He did, and it took her only a moment to realize from his tone that he was going to have to leave again. The hardness of his lap beneath her was ample proof that he would like to stay; she somewhat wistfully told herself she should be content with that. At least she knew now that he did want her.
That was a good deal further along than they’d been yesterday.
“I have to go,” he said when he disconnected, confirming what she’d already guessed. “I can’t say how long I’ll be gone this time.”
“There’s really no need for you to come back this evening,” she assured him. “I’m perfectly all right. I’ve got plenty to eat and pain pills if I need them—which I don’t think I will. You do what you have to do—and, yes, I’ll call if I need you,” she added, anticipating his next words.
He hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll call you later.”
“Do that. I’ll be curious about what’s going on.”
He brushed a kiss over the end of her nose and set her off his lap. “When are you not curious?”
She stood and followed him to the door. As reluctant as she was to see him leave, she decided it wasn’t such a bad thing to spend a few hours apart now. She wanted to think about some of the things they’d said—well, actually, he hadn’t said much; she needed to think about what that meant, too. They had plenty of time now. There was no need to ruin everything by rushing.
“I’m sure Marjorie invited you to her party at the diner tomorrow evening,” Dan said at the door.
“Of course. She’s very excited about it. Are you going?”
“Probably—unless something comes up, of course.”
“Marjorie understands about the demands of your job.”
He stood still for a moment, one hand on the door-knob, then suddenly blurted, “So you’re planning to be there? If you’re up to it, I mean?”
She was finding it very interesting that this man who was so firm and decisive in every other aspect of his life was displaying such awkward hesitation when it came to their evolving relationship. “I’ll be there.”
For a moment she thought he might suggest they go together. A date—a first real, public date. Maybe he’d intended to ask, but changed his mind. Or got cold feet. All he actually said was, “I’ll see you there.”
“All right.” Don’t push him, Lindsey.
There was plenty of time—now that they had taken that first, tentative step forward.
Judging from the crowd in the Rainbow Café Saturday evening, Marjorie’s casual reception for her daughter and her fiancé was quite a success. Festively decorated with balloons and sparkling cardboard-and-glitter music notes hanging from the ceiling, and a large banner congratulating Pierce Vanness on his new record deal, the diner was crowded with chattering friends and well-wishers.
“Look at Lindsey, will you?” Riley O’Neal shook his head in indulgent amusement as he spoke to Dan. “She’s eating up all this attention.”
Standing on one side of the diner with a glass of Marjorie’s fruit punch in one hand, Dan didn’t need Riley to point in Lindsey’s direction. He’d already been watching her.
From the time he’d arrived at the diner half an hour earlier, Lindsey had been completely surrounded. Everyone there had heard about the explosion, of course, and they wanted all the juicy details. He was relieved to see that the color had returned to her face, and her eyes were bright and clear again. She still wore the neat white bandag
e at her temple, but she’d covered most of her bruises with makeup and a long-sleeved, brightly striped sweater that was short enough to reveal just a glimpse of firm midriff above her jeans when she moved.
She looked great. And he wasn’t the only man who noticed, he realized, scowling toward Virginia Porter’s grandson, Dr. Scott McAdoo, who was chatting animatedly with Lindsey at that very moment. The doctor seemed quite taken.
Dan was half-seriously considering arresting the guy for something when Riley spoke again. “Marjorie looks pleased that Lindsey and the handsome young doctor are getting along so well,” he murmured, his attention wandering to their hostess. “She’s matchmaking again, obviously.”
“Apparently.”
Riley shuddered dramatically. “Have you ever had her turn her matchmaking instincts in your direction? It’s terrifying.”
Remembering Marjorie’s comment that she’d once considered trying to fix him up with Lindsey, Dan shook his head. “She’s never tried with me.”
“You’re lucky. I had to speak very firmly with her to get her to lay off. Every once in a while I still catch that gleam in her eyes.”
Dan was still looking at Lindsey, who was laughing at something Scott had said. What was she doing flirting with another guy only hours after telling Dan she was interested in him?
Of course, he and Lindsey weren’t attending this event as a couple. Trying to avoid drawing public speculation their way, Dan had hardly even spoken to her since they’d arrived. Surely she understood why he was being so circumspect; she knew how gossip flew around this town—especially when it concerned him.
Maybe she did understand, and her apparent interest in Scott was merely a smoke screen.
Or maybe not. He studied the young doctor with an attempt at dispassion. He could see why a woman would be attracted to the guy. Scott was good-looking, in a clean-cut, male-model sort of way. He had a stellar future ahead of him in medicine. He was basically just getting started in life, on the fast track to success.