by Lori Ryan
Garret again wondered why this woman seemed to know so much about police procedures as he tamped down the frustration that came with being told how to do his job. It was par for the course. No one ever thought cops were doing enough.
She intrigued him, though. She spoke with apparent knowledge on the subject, but she wasn’t a cop. That much was clear. Even if he hadn’t run a background check on her, he would know that. She didn’t have the stance or demeanor of someone who walked the thin blue line. Maybe she had friends on the force?
As he studied her, Marlis handed him a stack of files. “I managed to narrow things down a bit for you, Garret. There were several files that were inactive on her desk, and a few that are just minor follow-ups. These are the cases that might cause the kind of hard feelings you asked about.”
He reached around Ashley, leaning in and allowing his arm to graze hers as he took the files from Marlis. His eyes stayed glued to Ashley, an open challenge in them now.
“You mean the cases I asked about the last time I was here, interviewing everyone? My third visit since Alice died?”
Ashley’s gasp was audible and her eyes went wide, but Garret wasn’t entirely sure her response was solely due to his words. If she was feeling half the heat arcing between their bodies that he was, her gasp could easily be a response to that. Or maybe she was feeling the same urge to rock her hips into his and press their bodies together. To see if he could find an ounce of relief from this insane drive to plunge into her. Holy hell.
He stepped back, holding the file folders in front of him, praying it looked casual. If Ashley and Maris and the half-dozen other people around him caught on to the fact that he was hiding the hard-on of all hard-ons behind those folders, they didn’t let on. Thank God.
“Since you seem to understand a great deal about the investigative process,” he said, narrowing his eyes on the woman before him, “I’m sure you also realize these things take time. It’s not a TV show where everything is wrapped up in forty-five minutes. You want to tell me why it is you seem to know so much about how a murder investigation works, Ashley?”
Marlis answered for her.
“Because she’s a bestselling author! She writes the most amazing romantic mystery stuff.”
“Stuff?” Garret repeated, and let out a bark of laughter. “Since when do authors get things right? They glorify everything for the sake of sales, not accuracy.”
Ah, there she was again. The Ice Queen. No, wait, she looked more like fire than ice right now. Hands back to hips, an inch or so added to her diminutive frame, and that spark in her eyes.
“Romantic suspense. I write romantic suspense. And I put a lot of time and effort into getting the details right. I check and double-check and talk to officers who know what they’re doing. They help me get the details right. For my last book, I had to talk to a detective, an explosives expert, a psychologist, a lawyer, a medical examiner, and an arson investigator. I don’t just write fluffy nonsense with facts I pull out of the air. I research.”
“Huh. Anything I might have read?”
She let her gaze run up and down his body, pausing noticeably on the part still covered by the file folders. From the look she affected, she found him wanting. But he didn’t buy it. Her breathing had shallowed slightly and the tiny lick of her lips hadn’t been intentional. She couldn’t hide her attraction to him.
“I don’t know. Do you read steamy romance novels? You know, bodice rippers?”
She said bodice rippers as though some might consider them a bad thing. Hell, he didn’t know what a bodice ripper was, but it sounded pretty good to him. Especially if the steamy parts were coming from her mind. He wanted in that mind. Now.
He took a step back. He needed to get out of here and regroup. Big time. This woman did strange things to him and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the notion. She didn’t just draw him in sexually, the way most beautiful women did. She drew him mind, body, and soul. On a level and with an intensity that was unsettling.
“No. I guess not,” she said with a Cheshire Cat grin. And suddenly, she’d turned the tables on him. She held that grin as she swept around him, called a goodbye to Marlis, and walked away. Again.
It seemed to him he was frequently watching her walk away.
6
Ashley waved to the volunteer taking over for her while she went on her lunch break and scooted out the door before someone grabbed her. People had a tendency to latch on and want to talk for hours at a time right when she was set to leave the library. Especially since the news of her alter ego as Leigh Dare had come out. Everyone had a story idea they wanted to talk to her about, or a book they wanted her to co-write with them. Extricating herself was proving more and more difficult. Not that Ashley was known for her tact.
She’d begun to simply smile and say something vague along the lines of, “okay, bye!” before hauling butt away from people. That was rude, even by her standards. She’d heard whispers that she was spending too much time with Haddie—someone well known for having no internal filter and no tact. Ashley was choosing to take it as a compliment since Haddie was one of her favorite people.
She switched out her glasses—purple with white polka dots today—for a pair of white-and-black paisley sunglasses, and pushed through the front door of the library. The portulaca planted by the town’s volunteer greens committee was in full bloom, splashing bright orange, pink, and yellow splotches of color throughout the garden beds in front of the library.
It was quiet outside for a Tuesday afternoon, but she guessed everyone was already inside the diner or hiding from the heat in the barbeque place down the street. She walked the half block to the crosswalk and then across the street toward where she was meeting her friends, Laura and Katelyn, for lunch. She vaguely wondered if the monthly art walk hosted by the town’s galleries and artists was this coming Friday or the following one. She’d need to remember to ask Katelyn if she needed help with refreshments.
As she reached out her hand to the diner door, Ashley paused and looked around. Nothing. But every sense in her body had suddenly gone on high alert. She looked back in the direction she’d come and held herself still, searching for some small sign of…of, well, she didn’t know what. But, something. There was something there. She was sure of it. The feeling of being watched had taken hold of her, and wouldn’t let go.
“Ashley?”
Ashley screamed as she swung toward the voice. Her heart slammed into her rib cage and she put one hand out toward Garret and one hand to her chest as she tried to steady herself.
His arms came up immediately and his face showed nothing but concern.
“Ashley, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He scooped her to his chest protectively as he covered her with his body, and looked where she’d been looking only seconds before.
She pushed herself out of his arms and looked back at the library. “It’s nothing. I think I freaked myself out, but it was nothing.”
He looked down at her pale face and trembling hands and knew it wasn’t nothing. She was well and truly spooked.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at him as though he might be some kind of criminal instead of the officer of the law she knew him to be. It was a fair question. Evers was a good hour and a half drive from Branson Falls.
“I had to come out on a burglary call about halfway between Branson Falls and here, so I just kept on driving afterward. Thought I’d come check out Evers. Maybe check out its library,” he said with a grin.
And its librarian.
The color was returning to her face and as Garret looked around he saw no sign of anything out of the ordinary. Maybe she had gotten herself worked up over nothing.
“Hey, Ashley, everything all right?” A blonde woman and a brunette came out of the diner door and looked back and forth between him and Ashley.
“Yeah, guys, I’m sorry. I was on my way in and ran into Mike Hammer, here.”
Smiles appeared as the women looked a
t him.
“Really, Ashley? Mike Hammer?” He grinned at her and stuck his hand out to one of the women. “Detective Garret Hensley.” He didn’t know why he added the detective part. He didn’t normally feel the need to slap a title on himself when he wasn’t on the job, but something about Ashley always made him feel like he was scrambling sideways off a cliff.
The blonde woman shot a look at Ashley while she shook his hand.
“Reeeeeally?” Blondie drew that word out a little longer than strictly necessary. “Detective Garret Hensley. Ashley hasn’t told us a thing about you.”
Now why did that feel like a kick to the gut? What was he, in high school?
The brunette took his hand next. “I would have thought Ashley would mention meeting a sexy detective. Ashley, you want to fill us in here?”
Ashley laughed and shook her head. “No. I don’t. You can stop whatever you’re thinking. Detective Hensley is working on Alice’s case. He was just in the area and stopped by to say hello. And now, he’s leaving.”
The other women seemed to sober at the mention of Alice and introduced themselves as Laura Bishop and Katelyn Davies.
“Are you John Davies’s wife, by any chance?” Garret asked the brunette.
The woman smiled. “Yes. You know John?”
“I knew you looked familiar. He and I met a couple months back at a state-run crisis and negotiations workshop. He showed everyone there your picture and talked about you any chance he got.”
All three women laughed at that.
“They’re newlyweds,” Ashley said.
“Nah,” said Garret shaking his head. “It wasn’t the newlywed thing. He’s head over heels. That guy’ll be bragging on you long after the honeymoon is over.” He winked at Katelyn, who blushed, then turned to Ashley. “I have to get going. Are you sure you’re all right?” He did one more scan of the street behind them as he spoke, but she nodded.
“I’m fine. Working on too many suspense plots in my head, is all. I just need to remember I’m supposed to scare my readers, not me.”
He nodded. Then his mouth kept talking, despite the fact that he was pretty sure his brain hadn’t sent any instructions to it. “Do you want to go to dinner with me Saturday night?”
Shoot, maybe his mouth was onto something here. Maybe he’d just shut his brain off and let his body run with this.
Or not. If the look of shock on Ashley’s face meant anything, his mouth needed to shut up and let his brain resume control.
Before she could answer, Laura answered for her. “Oh, she’d love to.”
“I would?” Ashley looked as dumbstruck as he felt, but Garret was just gonna run with this. He had an opening and he’d take it.
“Great,” he said, backing away before she could object. “I’ll pick you up at seven at your place.”
“But, I…wait. What?”
“She’ll see you then! You have the address?” Katelyn asked, apparently on board with Laura’s plan, whatever that plan was.
“Got it,” he said, since he had her address from the background check he’d run on her, and turned to jog away. That was probably the dumbest thing he’d done in a long time, but screw it. She wasn’t a suspect in the case. She’d been checked out and cleared early on. Nothing was stopping him from taking her out. And the damn woman hadn’t left his thoughts since he’d first seen those bewitching blue eyes of hers. Screw it.
*
Ashley rounded on her friends, hands on hips. Again. She seemed to be using that position a lot lately.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing?”
Neither answered.
“Are those new sunglasses?” Laura tried. “I just love those. Where did you find them?”
“Not going to work, Laura. What were you thinking? I can’t go out with him,” Ashley hissed as Katelyn ducked her head and studied her shoes.
“Of course you can. He’s gorgeous and sweet and intelligent and—”
“You got all of that from two minutes and a hello, how do you do?”
“How do you do?” Katelyn asked with a snicker.
Laura kept right on going trying to distract Ashley.
“Oh, is that Presley Royale over there? Should we invite her to lunch?”
Damn. She’d hit Ashley’s weak spot. Defending Presley Royale when everyone else around town thought she was a wealthy snob was something Ashley took seriously. Ashley had long ago figured out that Presley was uncomfortable around other people, but not in a snobbish way. She was shy. As simple as that. The woman who everyone had assumed had everything she needed, everything anyone could want, needed the one thing her father couldn’t buy her. True friends. Ashley couldn’t ignore Presley, and Laura knew it. With a sigh, she turned and called across the street, letting the matter of her “date” with Garret drop for now.
“Hey, Pres, what are you doing in town?”
The tall woman brightened and looked both ways before crossing the street to them. There was a light about her face that Ashley hadn’t seen before.
“Hello, Ashley, Laura, Katelyn.” She nodded to each of them in turn and Ashley knew why people thought she was a snob. She was stiff and polite, with a formality to her interactions that Ashley suspected came from her upbringing. Her father owned Royale Stables and Presley was his prized champion right alongside his horses. She was a many-times national champion in the show ring, and the pride of her father’s stables. It disgusted Ashley how little Presley’s father valued his daughter as a person. He valued only what her reputation brought to his business, but not the person beneath.
“We’re grabbing lunch. Wanna join us?”
Presley shook her head, but she was smiling. “I’m meeting Lily Winn for lunch, but thank you for the invitation.”
“How did you pry Lily away from Carter’s side for lunch?” Katelyn asked with a laugh. When Lily moved to town to take over the local veterinary practice, she and Deputy Carter Jenkins had begun dating. They’d been pretty inseparable since then. The thought brought a smile to Ashley’s face. The couple reminded her of the love she wrote about in her books, and she was hoping they’d hear news about a happily ever after for them soon.
“I begged, if you must know,” Presley said. “I wanted to pick her brain about writing a business plan.”
“Do tell.” Katelyn said exactly what Ashley had been thinking. “You’re thinking of opening a business?”
Presley looked distinctly uncomfortable in the hot seat, and Ashley let her off the hook. “You’ll tell us about it when you’re ready, won’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Presley said, the breath she let out letting Ash know she was grateful for the save.
“Ok, but lunch another time. We need to catch up.”
“I’d love that,” Presley said, and they all said their goodbyes.
As the group walked into the diner, Ashley realized Laura’s goal had been accomplished. The topic of her coerced date with Garret had been dropped. Darn.
7
She really should have cancelled this. Ashley tugged at the straps of her sundress, then whisked it off, tossing it onto the pile of discarded clothes on her bed. She was ridiculously nervous about this non-date, as she’d started to think of it. It couldn’t be a date if she hadn’t said yes in the first place. So it was a non-date. Just two friendly people going out for a friendly meal. As friends. Most definitely not as lovers. Not even remotely.
Then why was she on her sixth outfit? She surveyed the wreckage of her attempts to look sexy and attractive, but in a totally one-hundred-percent casual, I-just-want-to-be-friends sort of way. That’s what she was going for. The jeans and black blouse had looked too casual. The white flouncy skirt paired with the coral sweater had looked too dressy. Leggings with a tunic sweater looked perfect, but were much too hot for the middle of the summer. She growled in frustration and pulled the sundress back on, then slammed her feet into a pair of flip-flops.
“Good enough.”
This
date—no, non-date—was causing her too much stress. And she knew why, too, but she wouldn’t admit it to herself. Admitting that she was entirely too damned attracted to Garret Hensley would put her in an even worse mood. Admitting that she was feeling sick to her stomach in anticipation of this date—worse still. When he had wrapped his arms around her protectively the other day, she had gone from the creepy feeling that she was being watched to tingling for a whole other reason entirely. From his hard body pressed to hers. From the protective alpha streak she saw oozing from him. That streak she wrote about in her books. Damn, it was as powerful as she’d made it out to be.
So why was she so spooked by that? Well, gee, Ashley, could it be because you haven’t ever been that attracted to a man? She snorted.
“Yeah, that’s an understatement of epic proportions.”
Not that attracted? Try never even remotely tingly. She’d had a lot of sex as a teen. She cringed to admit it to herself. Too much. Her poor parents had been dealing with the backlash and rebellion that came from what she’d been through in foster care. And it had taken a long time for her to realize she needed to stop. That intimacy with a man wouldn’t come from baring her body to him and letting him stick his penis in her. That true intimacy was so much more than sexual acts.
By the time she’d gone off to college, she had begun to get it. She needed to value herself, value her body and her mind, before being with a man. She needed to find intimacy and closeness first, without the sex part getting in the way.
The problem with Garret Hensley? He made her want to tear her clothes off. And his clothes, too. Because one look at him and she knew there was something magnificent hiding underneath that fabric. He was all hard lines and muscled chest, and she’d be willing to bet her paycheck that he was sporting a damned fine six-pack under those clothes.
That brought her thoughts to that sexy vee of muscles that pointed like an arrow down to a man’s… Oh for the love of—