by Lori Wilde
Katie was talking with an older gentleman, a glass of pink champagne clutched in one hand, her head tilted to the side, her gorgeous whiskey-colored hair shining in the muted light of the crystal chandeliers.
She laughed merrily, and the wonderful sound caused a strange tightening in Truman’s gut. Pearl drop earrings danced around her delicate earlobes like miniature maidens waltzing. She splayed her fingers at the scalloped neck of her dress, and he couldn’t help but follow that graceful movement, his eyes lingering on the smooth expanse of her pale skin. Helplessly, his gaze traveled lower, inspecting her cleavage.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
If Katie had looked like this in high school, he might have taken a second glance. Good grief, he’d been shallow. If she’d looked like this back then, he would have had to battle past a hundred other guys.
He shook his head. In those days, he’d been head over heels for Rhonda. What a youthful mistake Rhonda had been.
Despite five years of dating, he’d learned the hard way that he’d never really known Rhonda. After his father’s murder, things went south between them. Maybe he’d been wrong to ask Rhonda to settle for what he could provide on a policeman’s salary. But what he could provide hadn’t been enough, just as it hadn’t been for his mother. Rhonda wanted much more. She’d seen him in a corporate job working for her father, making big bucks, driving fancy cars and throwing lavish parties. She hadn’t understood his need to follow his heart.
Following their breakup, Truman realized he’d be a lucky man if he found a someone who could sign on to be a detective’s wife. Most of his cop friends were single or divorced. In the long run, even after twenty years, his mother hadn’t been able to stay married to a cop. If his own mother could not be happy for Truman and accept his career choice, how could he expect anyone else to do so?
One thing was for sure, he wasn’t looking for love. He dated occasionally, but although a lot of women fantasized about police officers, few wanted a long-term commitment with a cop. They wanted to come first and while he understood their need, he couldn’t provide that for them.
Truman told himself it didn’t matter. That he didn’t need a wife and a family to be happy, that they would only weigh him down and make him vulnerable. Telling himself that love was for masochists, he threw himself into his work with a vengeance, and that was enough.
Most of the time.
Until he ran across someone as bright and intriguing as Katie and start spinning stupid what if fantasies.
He wondered if Katie was dating anyone. Most likely. C’mon, look at her.
“There you are! We’d about given up hope you were coming.” Grace Prentiss pushed through the crowd, took Truman’s arm, and smiled up at him.
“Hello, Mrs. Prentiss. I’m sorry I’m late. I got hung up at the station.”
“Please call me Grace, and that’s perfectly all right. We’re so glad to have you join us. It’s been far too long, and it’s such a pity we lost touch with your family. Somehow, the years just rush by.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded politely, trying to give Grace his full attention, but he couldn’t help darting glances across the room at Katie.
While he watched. Katie linked arms with the older man.
Truman felt a kick of jealousy so strong the reaction rattled him. Quickly, he shifted his attention back to her mother, nodding and mumbling go on noises as she prattled about the wedding expenses.
“Hi!”
Truman jumped at the pressure of Katie’s hand on his arm. His eyes met hers. The air left his lungs, and Truman could only stare at her as breathless and confused as the times an ornery bronc threw him back in his rodeo days.
“Hey.” To Truman’s surprise, his voice came out unexpectedly brusque.
She stepped closer.
Truman gulped.
Katie smelled like some exotic fruit—sweet, fresh, juicy. Her small mouth was full and tempting. He remembered how good it felt to span his hands around her tiny waist and heft her up on the horse.
He didn’t like where his thoughts led him. Didn’t like it at all, but his lusty mind overrode his common sense, conjuring erotic images of Katie stretched out naked across his king-size bed.
“I need to get you alone,” he told her. That was not what he intended to say.
“What?” Her eyebrows sprang up, and her mouth rounded into a startled circle.
“I mean,” Truman stammered. Good grief, he was acting as skittish as a fifteen-year-old on his first date. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” She blinked.
“The mugging.”
Did she look disappointed or was he imaging things? Had she expected him to say something else?
“Oh, sure, right. This way.” She took off, and Truman, not knowing what else to do, followed.
Katie led him down a corridor. His gaze settled on her backside as her hips swayed in front of him.
You’re here on business, not to get involved with this woman, no matter how hot she is.
They reached the end of the hallway, and unexpectedly Katie turned and pushed backward through the exit door. So focused was he on reining in his thoughts, Truman almost ran into her.
“Come on,” she said, grinning. “Let’s sit outside. It’s stuffy in there.”
He couldn’t have agreed more. The door opened into a small courtyard decorated with white wrought iron benches and wooden barrels filled with colorful flowers.
Katie settled on a bench.
Truman took a deep breath of the fresh evening air and couldn’t believe he was alone with her. It was still warm even in the twilight. He ran a finger around his collar as if he could loosen the tightness in his throat.
“Sit down,” Katie invited, sliding across the bench.
Why was he so nervous?
The space yawned between them, an open invitation to get closer. She ducked her head. The shy gesture reminded him of the old Katie. Her sudden timidity eased his awkwardness.
Truman lowered himself beside her, and they sat in silence.
“It was unexpected, running into you again after all these years.” Katie tented her fingertips. “I wasn’t expecting a cop, although I shouldn’t have been surprised since your dad was one. But I always imagined you’d be king of the rodeo circuit like your cousin, Kael Carmody.”
“Kael and I both learned the hard way that rodeo is a young man’s game. Besides, I was never as good as Kael.”
“Yes, I heard about Kael’s career-ending accident and about him marrying Daisy Hightower and settling down on the honey farm.”
“Those two are so in love,” Truman said.
“I’m glad. I always liked Daisy. She deserves all the happiness in the world. Did you hear she’s expecting twins?”
Truman nodded. “Kael called me a couple of weeks ago. He’s busting out with pride.”
Katie rubbed her chin with two fingers. She had pretty hands—small with long slender fingers, her nails trimmed short and manicured with clear polish. Simple, yet elegant. The new, improved Katie. Not that he’d anything against the old Katie; he’d just been too wrapped up in Rhonda. He’d learned his lesson with her—never judge a book by its cover.
He pulled a notepad and pen from his hip pocket, then settled back against the cool wrought-iron bench. “What can you tell me about the purse snatcher?”
“I’m afraid my description won’t be much help,” she said. “He was wearing a ski mask.”
Truman nodded. “Yeah. That’s our guy. He’s the reason the sheriff put me on extra patrol at the gardens this summer. He’s accosted people in the neighborhood parks as well. I’d love to nab that joker.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance I’ll get my purse back.”
“Not likely, I’m sorry to say.”
Katie sighed, and her bosom rose and fell. “That’s what I figured. I bought that purse especially for Jenny’s wedding. It cost ninety-five dollars.”
“Th
at’s too bad.”
“And now I must get a cell phone and a new driver’s license and cancel my credit cards.” She made a face. “Ugh.”
“Can you tell me anything more about the perpetrator? Anything at all. Height? Weight? Race? The sound of his voice? Any distinguishing scars?”
“He was a white guy. Maybe five-ten. Average build. He wore Nike sneakers. Green and white.” Katie shrugged. “I’m not great at this, am I?”
“You’re doing fine.” Without thinking, he patted her knee.
Katie jumped, and he immediately jerked his hand away. The contact, so brief yet so intense, unnerved him. Whoa, what was that feeling all about?
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have touched you. I just wanted to reassure you.”
“It’s all right.” She ducked her head, looking as flustered as he felt. “You just caught me unaware.”
“Well... uh...” He stared at his notepad. “Unless you can remember anything else about this guy, I guess that’s it. I’ll file an official report tomorrow morning. If anything turns up, we’ll call you.”
“You’ll need my landline number.” Most people in the Trans-Pecos still had a landline. With the Davis Mountains surrounding the town, cell phone reception was unreliable.
“Uh. Yeah.” He wrote her number and address down, and although his hand was steady, he was quaking inside.
The exit door opened, and a young girl dashed out into the courtyard. “Katie, Aunt Grace has been looking for you. Jenny’s about to throw the bouquet,” the girl said breathlessly.
Katie laughed and got up. “I’ll come inside, Sierra, but I’m not catching the bouquet.”
The girl looked surprised. “How come? Doncha wanna be the next one to get married?”
Katie shook her head and slipped her arm around the girl’s waist. “Not me. I want to have some excitement before I settle down. I’ve wasted too many years in the book stacks. Time for me to have some adventures.”
“You can’t have adventures when you’re married?” Sierra asked.
“Oh sure, but married adventures are different from single adventures.” She cast a quick glance at Truman.
He winked.
Katie quickly looked away.
Had he been too bold?
“Maybe you’ll meet your soul mate, and he’ll change your mind,” the girl said dreamily.
Yeah, Truman thought. Some suave, sophisticated, rich city fellow would snatch Katie up the way Mark Barrington snatched up Jenny, and he’d never see Katie again.
Funny that thought should trouble him. Until today, he’d forgotten she even existed.
Bumfuzzled, Truman stood up and slid his notepad into his back pocket. The sooner he got away from Katie Prentiss, and the strange way she made him feel, the better.
Unfortunately, she linked her arm through his and asked, “Would you please escort me inside?”
3
Katie and Truman entered the reception hall together.
The bride and groom were together in the corner amid cheers, shouts, and laughter as the bouquet flew through the air.
Truman felt out of place among the celebratory group. With his goal of interviewing Katie accomplished, it was time to duck out of the festivities. He needed to escape before he did something really stupid.
Like ask her out.
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” Grace Prentiss snagged his arm before he could make a clean getaway.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve got to go.”
“Oh. I was hoping you could take Katie back to her apartment for us. Her car keys were in her purse, and we can’t take her home because we’re driving Jenny and Mark to the airport in El Paso in an hour. Katie told us you live in her complex. Win-win.”
“Mother!” Katie said, mortified. “I can’t believe you asked Truman to take me home. There’s a hundred people here. I’ll find my own ride.”
“I don’t mind giving you a lift.” Truman shrugged. “We do live in the same complex.”
Where had that come from? He should distance himself from Katie, not get closer. And why was he grinning like some fool? So what? He was giving her a ride. No big deal.
“Are you sure?” Her smile was adorable.
“It’s no problem at all.”
“Well,” Grace said, “one more dilemma solved. Thank you so much, Truman.”
“Mark’s throwing the garter!” someone shouted. “Gather ‘round all you eligible bachelors.”
Every single man in the building backed away.
“Cowards!” the groom challenged from his position stooped over Jenny’s exposed leg. He bent lower and eased the blue garter from her thigh and down over her foot.
“Go ahead,” Grace nudged Truman. “You’re eligible.”
“Mother, will you stop pestering him, please?” Katie shot her mother a quelling gaze.
“Here goes,” Mark threatened. “Ready or not, the garter’s coming your way.” He looped one side of the garter around his finger and shot it into the crowd like a rubber band.
A second later, Truman felt the garter plop on top of his head.
“There he is!” Mark laughed, pointing. “The next bachelor to take the plunge.”
Chagrinned, Truman removed the garter from his head and stuffed it into his pocket. Several people came over to tease him.
“Hate to disappoint you folks.” He grinned. “But I don’t even have a filly in mind.”
“How do you know?” asked a young man, who looked relieved to have escaped the garter throw himself. “The girl of your dreams could be right under your nose.”
Truman couldn’t help glancing at Katie.
She was already staring at him.
Their eyes met, and then immediately they both looked away.
The festivities went on for a bit longer. The bride and groom cut the cake. More toasts. More dancing.
Truman wasn’t a dancer, and he hoped Katie wasn’t either. “Are you ready to go?”
“Ready.” She beamed. “I can’t wait to get out of this dress.”
That sent a shiver over him as his mind immediately called up a picture of Katie slipping out of her clothes. He swallowed past the sudden burn blazing up his throat. It had been a long time since he’d been this turned on.
A cold shower was definitely on the menu tonight.
“Just let me tell Jenny and Mark goodbye.”
He lounged against the wall, watching her as she hugged Mark and Jenny. Katie was so perky, so upbeat. And she wanted to go into law enforcement? It seemed a strange career choice for a woman so steeped in books. Especially since she’d spent all that time and money becoming a librarian.
She popped back over to where he stood. “Let’s hit it.”
Truman escorted Katie to the parking lot. He led her to his pickup truck and opened the passenger door. She hesitated. Truman held out his arm for her. She gathered her long skirt in her hands and climbed tentatively into the cab.
“Thanks.”
He closed the door, walked around the truck, and got in. The moment felt clumsy, and he didn’t quite know how to act or what to say.
Katie, it seemed, was at loose ends too. She fidgeted in her seat, clenching and unclenching her hands. “I want to apologize for my mother conning you into this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waved a hand, guiding the pickup from the parking lot and onto the newly black-topped road. The smell of fresh tar mingled with the scent of Katie’s peachy fragrance.
“It’s really kind of you to agree.”
“We live in the same complex,” he said. Kindness had nothing to do with it. Pure animal attraction motivated him, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “I’d do it for anyone.”
“Oh.” Her lips turned down at the corners, and she busied herself smoothing down her dress.
Great going, West. Way to make her feel special.
Truman braked at a stoplight and cast a sideways glance at Katie. Lord, she was gorgeous. He
still couldn’t get over her transformation. His mouth went dry, and he felt his shirt collar scratching his neck.
Then he remembered something about Katie that he’d completely forgotten. She’d written him a love letter back in high school, and somehow that letter had gotten circulated around her homeroom class. Rhonda made a copy and brought the letter to show him. It had mortified Katie.
The memory made him uncomfortable. How had he reacted? He’d said something—he couldn’t recall what exactly—to make her feel better, but he’d only made things worse.
He recalled that Rhonda made a big joke of Katie’s crush, taunting and teasing the girl in the hallway. They’d even had a fight over it. Thinking about his ex-fiancée’s “mean girl” behavior embarrassed him. Her cruelty toward Katie should have warned him, but her looks had blinded him, and he’d been struck dumb by male hormones.
Everybody couldn’t be as beautiful as Rhonda McKnight. But beauty was only skin deep. Katie had survived the ugly-duckling stage, and now she was a spectacular swan made even more lovely because she had suffered.
“Which apartment is yours?” he asked, turning into the complex.
“It’s on the back circle. Number 371. But we need to stop by the manager’s office,” Katie said. “So I can get a spare key. Honestly, you’re free to go. I can walk to my apartment from there. I’ve troubled you enough.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” Truman said.
“I’m not?” Her eyes widened.
“I’m not about to let you go into that apartment alone. For all you know, the guy who took your purse could be lurking around here. He’s got your driver’s license, and he knows where you live.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Katie mumbled. She looked pale and tired. It had been a busy day for her—a mugging, her sister’s wedding, meeting an old friend.
Truman drove her to the manager’s office and went inside with her. He flashed his badge and told the manager to send someone over right away to change Katie’s locks and why.
The manager promised to send maintenance to Katie’s apartment immediately.
“That was nice of you,” Katie said when they were back in the truck.
“Just doing my job.” Truman located her apartment and pulled to a stop.