AspenTrilogy (Boxed Set)

by Cindy Stark

  A wicked bit of heat rushed to her cheeks. He was not talking about that weapon, though handling it would be serious business, indeed. She cleared her throat. Sex had been off her radar for a long time. It shouldn't be popping up now. "Yes, I know guns can kill."

  He blinked, then nodded. "Of course you do. Have you ever fired a weapon?"

  She shook her head.

  "This is a 9mm handgun. It holds 15 rounds in each magazine." He wiggled a black clip before shoving it up inside the handle until it clicked.

  "Okay."

  He held out the weapon to her, and she took it. The pistol was lighter than she'd imagined. She wrapped her fingers around the butt of it, the gun fitting nicely in her hand. Her nerves stretched taut. She released a breathy smile. "What do I do?"

  "Aim it at that first can."

  She held the gun out from her, her hand shaking from anticipation. "Do I just shoot?"

  "Squeeze the trigger."

  She relaxed her stance, embarrassed that she was such a novice. She fired. The gun went off, kicking back against her hand. Not one of the cans moved as the bullet sailed into the green pasture.

  Milo laughed and approached her from behind. "Let me give you a few tips." He moved in close, energy radiating off his chest into her back. "Hold out the gun." He lifted her right arm, the weapon aimed toward the cans. "Now take your left hand and support your right hand along the wrist." He covered the outside of her hand and moved it toward the gun as he leaned over her shoulder. "See how that keeps you steadier?"

  "Uh-huh." She was pretty sure she was anything but steady at the moment. If he were to back away, she would fall to the ground. She tried to inhale a calming breath, but that only forced her closer to him. The crisp, woodsy scent of his cologne teased her senses, increasing her attraction to him.

  He let go of her wrist and trailed his fingers across the back of her neck, tugging her hair out of his way. She froze as shiver after shiver radiated down her body.

  "Your hair smells nice." His nose bumped her head as he took another long whiff and exhaled an appreciative sigh.

  "Thanks."

  He lifted her arms, reminding her that she'd let them droop. "Many people choose to turn their head to the side and close one eye to help them sight in their target. You probably have one side that is more dominant over the other, so try practicing with different eyes shut and see how you do."

  As she adjusted her aim using only one eye, he released her hands, dropping his to her waist as though to hold her steady, still watching over her shoulder. Her gaze blurred, and she blinked. She couldn't think, let alone shoot with him that close.

  She focused again, letting out a slow breath. The can sat dead center in her gaze. Just as she pulled the trigger Milo's breath caressed her ear. Her shot went wide, sending splinters flying from the side of the small wooden building. "Shit."

  He laughed. "I think you just killed my shed."

  "It's your fault." She turned, and he tipped the point of the gun downward, making her feel even worse.

  "How's it my fault?" Merriment danced in his eyes.

  "I can't keep my concentration with you that close."

  Interested brows rose over his blue eyes. "Oh, really?"

  She clamped her lips shut, not happy that she'd given herself away. But she couldn't keep them closed. She needed to give him a piece of her mind. "You did that on purpose."

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  She studied him for a moment, staring deep into his so-called innocent expression. After a few seconds, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips, and she knew she'd won. "You are so busted. You blew in my ear on purpose, trying to distract me."

  He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay. I'll admit it. You're just too cute not to tease."

  Her heart jolted at his admission. He liked the way she looked. Shouldn't matter to her, but it did. She grinned. "You should take a step back, mister, and don't forget who's holding the gun here. Wouldn't want to distract me too much."

  He moved backward a few steps, his face alight with amusement. "Absolutely, darlin'. You're in control now."

  She snorted. The man was a master of sexual innuendos.

  She turned, sighted in the first can one more time and fired. The coffee can flew in the air and landed on the other side of the fence. "Woo!" She turned with an excited smile, and again he tipped the gun toward the ground. "Sorry." She tried to look chastised, but she'd actually hit her target.

  Her grin resurfaced as she focused on the second can. She fired. "Crap," she mumbled under her breath. She fired again, and the rusty can sailed high over the fence. Yes. The next two also took her a couple of times, but she hit the fifth one with her first attempt.

  "Ha," she said as she glanced over her shoulder. "I can shoot."

  He approached wearing a contagious grin. "You sure can." He took the gun from her and holstered it, before he continued toward the fence. He hopped it, his moves sure and strong. She knew he'd done it to impress her…and it had. He replaced the coffee cans and jumped the fence again, walking toward her, his gaze holding hers, with a smile that said he knew she couldn't help but watch.

  He handed the gun to her, giving her a sexy, sideways glance. "Go again, hot shot."

  She fired off several more rounds. Hitting some and missing more than she'd like. Each time she finished, he hopped the fence and then swaggered back to her with a sexy grin. Each time, increasing the heat building inside her. She wasn't quite sure what was going on between them, but she was definitely more entertained than she'd been in the previous places Quinn had placed her.

  By the time she finished her tenth round, he called it quits. "I'm tired of playing fetch for you, darlin'. Let's call it a day."

  "Really?" She frowned. "I was just getting good at it."

  "You definitely have a shooter's eye."

  "I don't need you to set up the cans. I can do that." She shrugged. It was no big deal. She'd just enjoyed watching his muscles flex as he jumped the fence. Having a man around to do her bidding had been rather pleasant, but she could do this for herself.

  He walked closer, stopping just feet from her, tilting his head so he faced her dead on. Her pulse paused and then sprinted. He held her gaze as he reached between them. She shifted a nervous glance downward to see him working the buckle on his holster. She looked up, the happiness inside her flipping into a smile.

  He removed his holster. He broke eye contact with her as he slid the leather strap around her waist, his fingers grazing the skin near her belly button. She was suddenly glad she hadn't changed out of her tank top like she'd planned. It was an innocent touch, but she liked the sizzle he left on her skin.

  She'd done an excellent job in the years since Danny's death keeping men at arm's length. She'd convinced herself she didn't want or need a man's touch to be happy. She certainly didn't want to risk someone's life by falling in love. But this attraction and playfulness was kind of fun, and if her father knew, it would really piss him off.

  She wasn't sure why flirting with Milo held such appeal for her. Deputy Sykes had something about him that had snuck over or around her protective emotional walls, and she wasn't certain she cared. She'd only known him a few hours, but he'd charmed her to the point she couldn't stop flirting with him.

  She glanced at his face as he tightened the buckle around her. Light brown stubble scattered along his jawline, giving him a rugged, sexy look. A small scar dipped into one side of his top lip. Lips that were full and tempting, and really only inches from hers.

  She sighed and moved her gaze to his eyes, surprised to find him watching her.

  "Is this okay?"

  More than okay. "The belt?"

  "The tightness." He tugged on the leather around her waist. "It doesn't feel like it's going to fall off, does it?"

  She gratefully escaped his vivid stare for a moment while she gave the belt a tug. "Feels great—fine," she stammered. "It's not going to fall off."

&nb
sp; She glanced back, his intriguing orbs a point of distribution for the awareness that coursed through her body. He held her gaze as though he, too, knew they were communicating on more than one level. "Have at it then."

  She stood frozen for a moment, really, really wanting to ask him if he meant what she thought he meant…but she couldn't. She turned, sensing his full gaze on her as she walked to the fence and climbed over. When she reached the other side, sure enough he still stood where she'd left him, his intense gaze watching her every move, a satisfied grin twisting his lips.

  Lord help her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Good God. He leaned back in the porch swing, trying to remind himself he was currently on duty and not entertaining a potential lover. He should be shot for his behavior around Ariana. She was not one of the local gals he loved to turn around the dance floor. She was a witness in a major organized crime trial. He was a sworn officer of the law, and even though he was no longer a part of the U.S. Marshals, he'd promised Quinn he'd protect her.

  Not flirt with her. Not tease her until she smiled. And definitely not undress her with his eyes. He watched with utter interest as she climbed the wooden fence again, admiring the way her tight jeans showcased the curve of her ass as she straddled the fence. "Mmm-mmm." Then there was always the hope that she'd have her ass toward him as she bent to pick up a coffee can.

  She turned to him, and he tried to keep his face as passive as possible. "Did you say something?" she called across the distance.

  "No. About done?"

  "I want to do a few more, if that's okay."

  "Knock yourself out." And knock some sense into him, too. He would have her under his protection for the next month until she was scheduled to testify against her murdering mobster of a father. It would show a complete lack of professionalism if he was to start a personal relationship with her. If he was still with the Marshals, he could be fired for it.

  Ariana bent over, giving him the perfect view. Damn. She stood and looked at him over her shoulder as though she'd known he was watching. He quickly glanced away, but he was more than a little certain she'd busted him.

  Oh hell. Someone save him. Why couldn't she have been a fat old man?

  He let her go another round, unable to look away while she seemingly taunted him. Then, he'd had enough. He waited until she retrieved the five cans, trying to ignore the fact she either gave him a nice view of her ass, or faced him, giving him a peek-a-boo glimpse of her cleavage as she bent over. If she looked, she'd find a bulge of heated desire in his pants.

  She sauntered toward him, his gun swinging from her hips. She gave him a smile full of mischief.

  Enough torture for one day. He'd reached his breaking point and needed to cool down.

  He approached her and pulled his weapon from the holster, earning a surprised look from her. "Want me to show you how it's really done?" He turned and fired in rapid succession, sending all five cans popping from their posts in less than two seconds. He raised his brows, giving her a cocky grin as he re-holstered his gun before he turned and headed for the house.

  "Show off," she called after him.

  * * *

  Okay, so she'd been teasing Milo. He deserved it. She had to do something to get even for the way he watched her. Ariana stopped on the porch, grinning as she took Milo's seat on the porch swing. The cushion was soft against her back, and the swing creaked and groaned as she rocked it.

  The guy had been tossing sexual barbs at her from the moment they'd met. It was more than fair that she'd caused him to be just as heated as she was by the time he called the game. She wasn't a little schoolgirl who could be swept off her feet by a good-looking guy, even if she'd always dreamed about a hot cop who'd ride in and save her from her family. No. She would be the one who would extricate herself from her pathetic family. But if he wanted to engage in a war of wits while she passed her days, she was up for it. To her, there was nothing sexier than a challenge of the minds.

  He might have out shot her that day, but only physically. She leaned forward and unbuckled the leather holster, slipping it from her waist. She held it in her lap, caressing the worn belt that had looked so good on him. It was obvious the soft piece of leather had spent many hours riding his hips. She found that infinitely sexy and nothing like the vile holsters her father's men wore.

  She took a few moments to appreciate the quiet outdoors and then stood. Everything fun and interesting in her life now waited inside the door, and the flirting games had just begun.

  * * *

  Ariana woke with a start like she had every morning since she'd gone into hiding. She'd woken in far too many different beds during the last eleven months, and she wondered if she'd ever have a home again.

  The previous night had been a disappointment. She rolled out of bed and straightened the bedding. After she'd returned inside, Milo had buried himself inside a ridiculously large book, something about honorable men. He hadn't surfaced until sometime after she'd given up thinking he might entertain her, and she'd gone to bed.

  She glanced at her closet. She should probably toss on something to cover the skimpy pink tank top and short shorts she wore as pajamas, but there hadn't been room for a robe in her suitcase. The irritating sting of being annoyed the previous evening hadn't purged from her system yet, and she decided if her attire caused him some discomfort, the more the better.

  She emerged from her bedroom to be seduced by the blessed smell of fresh brewed coffee. Her eyes drifted shut as she took a moment to inhale the lovely aroma. Having someone to look forward to seeing in the morning, someone to share a meal with…it was nice.

  Living alone in different safe houses for the past few months had been difficult. It wasn't the same as a person who lived by themselves. They saw others during the day. She'd been totally isolated. She'd had no one to call, no one to talk to except Quinn, and he couldn't be available twenty-four seven. It was no wonder she'd had her weak moments.

  She walked the rest of the way down the hall and into the small kitchen. She stopped, the smile slipping from her face.

  Milo stood at the counter whisking ingredients in a silver bowl. Something in the room looked extremely good, and it wasn't the food he prepared. He wore no shirt, exposing a massive amount of tanned, muscled chest. The white bandage stood out on his tanned arm. His blue flannel pants rode low on his hips, and his blond locks stood out, as though he'd done nothing but run his fingers through his hair that morning.

  She had to wonder if he'd had a similar plan to try and exact some vengeance for her relentless teasing the previous evening while they'd been shooting targets. If so, he scored some serious points.

  Milo chose that moment to look up, the whisk slowing and then stopping as his gaze inched down her body. A point for her? Or two points for him, she wondered as her body reacted to his searing look. Perhaps she'd made a mistake offering up so much bare skin in an attempt to tease him.

  "Morning," he said as their eyes met again. He gave a slight shake of his head and focused on the bowl in front of him.

  "Morning." She approached, achingly aware of her attraction to him. "Can I help?"

  He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Sure. You can wash and cut up the strawberries in the fridge."

  She padded to the other side of the sink, stealing several glances at him while his back was to her. A rogue thought snuck under her radar, daring her to run a finger across the firm skin of his back. She resisted, but it was no easy feat.

  The potency of her thoughts surprised her. She'd never had a hard time steering clear of men. But one look at this small-town deputy, and she couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to find herself in his arms.

  It seemed her sanity would be the price of her time in isolation.

  She couldn't help her thoughts, though. The man had a multitude of attractive qualities. It seemed he could cook a decent meal. He was funny as well as charming and wielded a pistol like a deadly extension of his body. And the
twinkle in his blue eyes was enough to melt the coldest woman's heart. Yet, he was still single.

  "Why aren't you married?" The words slipped out before she'd realized the implications of her question.

  He glanced her over as though sizing her up. "I don't know. I guess I'm waiting for the right one to come along."

  A quick flash of energy zipped through her. "Of course. I didn't mean to pry." She shouldn't have asked in the first place. She busied herself removing the package of strawberries from the fridge.

  "Colander?" she asked as she stepped to the sink.

  "In the cupboard above the stove." He bent over and removed a waffle iron from a cabinet.

  She glanced between his rear end and the overhead cupboard as she opened it and stood on tiptoes, reaching for the silver strainer that was stacked on top of various mixing bowls. He had such an attractive build. For someone of Milo's stature, the colander would be a breeze to reach, but it was just out of her grasp. She slid the whole stack of bowls toward her, intending to remove them all to reach the colander, but he distracted her as he stood, and the stack tipped.

  His bare arm brushed against hers as he made a quick move and caught the dishes before they tumbled down on her. He slid the bowls back in, removing the colander and holding it out to her.

  He was so close, and all her attention centered on the spot where their bodies had touched. She tried to inhale, wondering if he'd somehow stolen the oxygen in the room. "Thank you," she whispered. She turned on the water, using the strawberries as a distraction.

  They worked in silence for several minutes, him cooking the waffles and her slicing juicy red berries. When everything was complete, they carried their offerings to the table. Ariana poured two cups of coffee and sat. Milo joined her with a can of whipped cream in his hand.

  She eyed the can and then him as he sat opposite her. "Whipped cream for breakfast?" she asked, unable to resist the tease.

  "I like it." He raised a challenging brow.

  She smiled as she lowered her gaze to the stack of golden brown waffles in front of her and slid one on to her plate. She topped it with strawberries. Flirting with him might be a dangerous pastime, but she couldn't resist the flush of adrenaline that flooded her veins every time they bantered.