by Regan Black
Tonight would have been a far better first date if they’d attempted a rescue, she thought.
She was having zero success as a soothing presence on anyone in the room, except Stumps, who sat beside her and let her rub his ears. Hard to be soothing when she was still overwhelmed by Shane’s admission that he wanted to kiss her again. Her mind drifted, seeing the hard-knock similarities between Shane and Tyler and wishing things could be simpler. What she wouldn’t give to be two normal people attracted to each other and free to pursue it rather than a Gage and a Colton on opposite sides of yet another legal matter.
Her brother dead, his sister accused. Two dogs missing, one kid choosing the wrong time to get moody. It was all such a tangled mess. Even if Shane had somehow managed to see beyond her last name, would it last or would the Groom Killer case or another dog theft drive them apart?
Could she really trust him to do the right thing?
Yes. The answer whispered across her senses, releasing the knots of tension in her neck, carrying her out of this awkward interview to the moment they’d stood together in the Larson offices. He might have a different approach or even a different agenda, but every step was thoughtful, planned and right, she realized.
* * *
As the clock on the wall ticked past midnight, Shane hadn’t made any progress. Tyler slumped in his chair, his feet stretched out under the table and his arms folded defensively over his skinny chest.
Mrs. Miller leaned across the table toward Danica. “Do you think my boy attacked you?” she demanded, clearly hitting her limit. “Is that what this is about?”
“Absolutely not,” Danica replied before Shane could intervene. “I trust Tyler completely.”
Shane stifled a curse. She wasn’t helping.
“You can’t hold him here.” Mrs. Miller glared at Shane. “I watch Law and Order. I know he has rights.”
This wasn’t a damn television show, Shane thought. This was life and death and hard crime in the real world. Shane was tempted to make something up just to get the kid away from his useless parents. If Tyler had had any interaction with the Larson twins or their operation, no matter how remotely, he was in significant danger.
“He’s not being charged with any crime, Mrs. Miller,” Danica interjected with far more patience than the woman deserved. “Tyler might not even realize what he knows.”
“He’s not saying another word without legal counsel,” Mr. Miller stated.
Shane had expected them to use that line earlier. He understood the disadvantages kids like Tyler dealt with. Shane’s mother had been solid, but his dad was pretty much king of the rough side of town, drinking away any profit he managed to turn at the Pour House.
Shane looked at Mr. Miller. The man reeked of alcohol. Given a few minutes alone, he was sure he could find a way to connect with this kid, but that wasn’t going to happen. Too bad he hadn’t listened to Danica earlier.
“Last chance, Tyler. Tell us what happened the night Nico was stolen.”
The kid’s sullen gaze remained on some point on the wall between Shane and Danica.
“Tyler, whatever happened, you can trust us to help.” It wasn’t the first time she’d made such a claim.
“I’ve had enough of this circus,” Mr. Miller said. He hauled Tyler up by his arm.
Mrs. Miller slapped the table as she stood, as well. “We’re leaving.”
Shane figured they’d had enough time without nicotine. There was nothing he could do. “We appreciate your time,” he lied with a smile.
He left Stumps with Danica as he walked them out of the station. When he turned back, she was right behind him with his dog.
She looked as exhausted as he felt. “That went well,” she said.
“You were right,” he admitted as they loaded into his SUV for the short drive to her condo.
“We both were,” she said.
Uncertain what she could possibly mean by that, he let the comment go. His thoughts were reeling with what if’s and what now’s. Still convinced Tyler was into something, he’d only managed to alienate Danica and the kid. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let his temper ride roughshod over common sense on a case.
He parked in front of her condo and cut the engine. “We’ll walk you up. There’s something I need to say.”
“Whatever.” She pushed open her door. “I’m too tired to argue.”
“Good. You can listen.”
He ignored the hard look in her eyes as they rode the elevator to her floor. She unlocked the door and he counted himself lucky she didn’t slam it in his face.
The menacing growl from somewhere overhead had him doing a double take. He followed the sound to the top of the kitchen cabinet, where her cat perched, looking as if he’d leap down and claw out Shane’s eyes at any moment. Shane picked up Stumps to protect him.
“Oscar, that’s enough,” she said.
“Can you crate him or something?”
She gave him a look as lethal as the cat’s glare. “He’s startled and he hasn’t met Stumps.”
She made the introductions as if the cat were a child. “This is Shane’s partner, Stumps. He won’t hurt you. You’d probably like him if you came down and said hello.”
The cat rumbled.
“That’s enough,” Danica warned in a perfect mom-voice.
Stumps whined, but not in fear. It was the sound he made when he was eager to try something new. His rump wriggled as he shifted in Shane’s hold, wanting a better view as the cat moved across the cabinet tops.
Danica walked the length of the galley kitchen and opened the door on the far end. Shane caught a glimpse of shelving before she bent over, distracting him with the view of her trim hips.
Yanking his thoughts away from that dangerous canyon edge, he eyed the cat.
“We’ll go,” he decided. “I’m sure we’ll both be more rational in the morning.”
She turned around, holding a water bowl and a dog biscuit for Stumps. “You only want a reprieve so you have time to come up with a better explanation.”
“Danica, I swear—” He stopped yet another attempt to convince her Tyler was in over his head when the huge cat dropped to the counter with a predatory silence and padded closer.
Stumps wriggled, ears forward, nose twitching. Shane stared into a golden feline gaze that unnerved him. Stumps seemed oblivious to the cat’s do-not-disturb warnings, eager to make a friend.
“He won’t eat Stumps?”
Her green eyes blazed. Great, he’d offended her again. Not the way to win her to his side of the Tyler issue. He walked into the living room and set Stumps down gently. “Sit.”
The dog obeyed, and though he patiently awaited the next command, Shane knew Stumps wanted to slobber all over the cat until they were best buddies. The cat watched from the countertop. He released Stumps to relax, explore and enjoy the treat Danica had for him.
Stumps lapped up water and munched the dog treat while Danica crooned to her cat that Stumps was no threat. As she spoke and Stumps behaved himself, Oscar grew more receptive to the intrusion.
“You bring dogs here often?”
She glanced at him and then chuckled. He realized it sounded like a cheesy pickup line paraphrased. It felt good to laugh along with her after the night they’d had.
“Beer?” she offered. “It’s the middle of the night, after all.”
“Sure.”
She brought out two longneck amber bottles from a local microbrewery. It was his favorite variety simply because the Pour House only stocked the cheapest beer possible.
She curled herself into one end of the couch again, leaving the animals to work things out. He supposed if she trusted her cat, he would, too. He sank into one of the facing chairs, wondering if she’d ever give him another chance. “Stumps alerted when he saw Tyler.”
/> “I saw it. Hard to know what it means.” She pushed at her hair. “You do realize you won’t get anything out of Tyler now.” She turned the beer bottle in little circles over her knee.
“Why won’t he talk?” His fingers wanted to trace that same pattern, right there, and erase the chill left behind. With a mental shake, he pulled his focus back to the reason she’d let him in here. Tipping back his beer, he waited for her to connect the dots.
“Tyler has been working with me long enough to know the men and women with K9 partners are steady and calm. He won’t fall for your blustering, impatient routine.”
His impatience wasn’t a routine. His gut instinct was insisting this wasn’t over. Not just because a trained attack dog was currently under the dubious control of the Larson twins. Someone had drugged Danica, left her outside and later used more violence against a professional security guard. The break in the Groom Killer case might be right in front of them along with the potential to link some serious crime to Noel and Evan Larson. If the culprit believed Danica remembered something, she would be in the crosshairs.
“You can’t sit there and tell me you believe this was coincidence. Two thefts in two nights screams inside job. I’ve cleared everyone else at the training center.”
“Tyler didn’t steal those dogs.”
“I’m certain he helped the man who did.”
She held up a hand. “We’ve been down this rabbit hole enough already. You have a theory. I think it’s bogus.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, striving for that calm she was so convinced he had in spades. When it came to keeping her safe, he was starting to realize he didn’t have nearly enough. “Then give me another theory to work with,” he said.
Her lips pressed together, turning them from that soft peach color to almost white. “Maybe Tyler saw something when he was out walking. Maybe he heard something around town.”
When he snorted, Danica rolled her eyes and stood. Crossing the room, she ignored him in favor of the view through the sliding glass doors.
“Why are you so willing to defend him? You’ve said it yourself that something is going on with him.”
“You saw his parents,” she said without turning. “It could be anything.”
Her voice was so low, he wouldn’t have heard her if he hadn’t come to stand behind her. He caught a whiff of the exotic ginger and sweet honey scents in her golden-red hair. Outside, the nearby mountains loomed, deeper shadows in the darkness, like the case that was leading them in circles. Instead, Shane focused on the faint reflection in the glass, which underscored his height advantage. That was the only advantage he had on Danica. She had the benefit of solid family and professional support. People generally liked her and steered clear of him.
Maybe it was the beer, or the late hour, but he gave in to the urge to open up. “I don’t want to talk about Tyler anymore.” If he leaned in, he could kiss her hair. Or move it off her neck and discover what her skin tasted like under the heavy veil.
She spun around. “You took a big risk tonight, doing everything but calling him a thief.” She thumped his chest lightly with a fist. “You of all people in this town should know that what is ‘obvious’—” she actually used air quotes on the word “—might not be true.”
He caught her smaller hands in his and pinned them to her hips. Her eyes widened. Then he claimed her mouth, plundering and reveling in the textures of lips, tongue and teeth. He brought her hands up to circle his waist, moaning as her palms swept up his back, clutching at his shirt.
That felt too good. He pulled her close as she kissed him back. Nothing gentle or careful or curious here. Need crackled through his system and he set out to learn what made her sigh with delight and pleasure. The low sound she made in her throat had him ready to rip the clothes from her body and take her right here against the cold glass door.
So much for the myth that K9 officers were steady and calm.
He broke the kiss, quaking with his reaction to her. Unhappy with the sense of wonder and longing coursing through his veins. He brushed his lips over her brow, her cheeks, her nose, fearing he was already addicted. No. If he left now, walked away, they might both come to their senses.
Any second now, he would release her hands, take his dog and leave. Then she looked up at him through her lashes and everything changed. The awkward pressure deep inside his chest shifted and clicked into place, as if he hadn’t been looking at life from the right angle before.
She must have sensed it, too, because she moved in, pressing that slender body flush to his. He boosted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Her head fell back on a wild laugh that he swallowed with another searing kiss. His mind blanked of everything but her.
Her teeth nipped his ear and goose bumps raced down that side of his body. “I have condoms in the bedroom,” she said between fluttering kisses along the sensitive skin of his jaw.
“Good.” The single syllable was all he could manage with his arms full and his body aching. He found her bedroom and moved straight to the bed. He laid her back and stretched out over her. Together they were a tangle of limbs, hot touches and blazing kisses as clothing scattered. Her skin, warm and smooth over the supple, subtle curves, lit a fire in his blood.
“You’re glorious,” he whispered along the sweet column of her throat, down across her breasts.
She murmured something that might have been doubt and he set out to prove his sincerity. He drew one pebbled nipple into his mouth and she arched into him. For such a small woman, there was so much to explore. When she was gasping his name on a shattering climax, he applied the condom and sank deep into her welcoming heat. She overwhelmed him and sensation built with every thrust and sigh until she crested again and at last he gave in to his release.
After disposing of the condom, he returned to the bed and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t say a word as she snuggled in. He didn’t want to think or analyze his actions, not now. He just wanted to feel, to enjoy her as the passionate rush faded into an easy comfort.
CHAPTER 12
Danica heard Stumps’s nails on the hardwood floor as he trotted with Shane to the front door. Though he surely thought he was moving almost silently, she heard the door open and close. Heart heavy, she waited a few minutes before getting up and locking the door behind them.
What had she done? Well, the sex was amazing, but she’d really crossed a line.
She was a fool. Worse, she was behaving like an idiot on par with her little brother. Shane would always be out of her reach. That he’d walked out without a word only proved the point. She could practically hear Grandpa Gage rolling over in his grave. Shane couldn’t be her Mr. Right.
She climbed back into bed and curled into the pillow, inhaling the masculine scent he left behind. Her heart, apparently cut from the same cloth as Vincent’s, had gotten caught up in some wistful fantasy that love could heal all wounds.
Love wouldn’t give Shane back the time stolen by a legal system that failed him. Love wouldn’t bring back the mother who’d died believing he was a killer. Love couldn’t change that whenever he looked at her, he surely saw the root of all that pain and injustice.
They were consenting adults who’d been swept up by stunning passion. They’d shared an amazing, memorable moment she would treasure for the rest of her life. No need to make it anything more significant than that.
She pressed her lips together, recalling his mouth on her skin. Tears for what would never be soaked into the pillow beneath her cheek.
Tomorrow would be a new day. A fresh start with her eyes wide open where Shane was concerned. They had a case to solve whether he wanted her help or not. She might not be able to identify her attacker, but if Tyler did know anything, she was the only one he would talk to.
* * *
Shane hated sneaking out of Danica’s bed without a word, but h
is mind wouldn’t settle. Tossing and turning would only lead to both of them being grumpy and ineffective come morning. He was a block away from her condo when he realized he could have left her a note.
Idiot.
Not that a note would have done much. How could he explain the overwhelming sense of being trapped while he’d held her in his arms? No, he didn’t have a key to her condo, but he hadn’t been a prisoner there, either.
Shane swore, frustrated with himself. His self-control had turned to dust at the taste of her lips and the feel of her sweet, strong hands on his skin. Coltons and Gages were worse than oil and water. The times when they didn’t repel each other, they corroded and corrupted everything from the inside out.
Demi and Bo had been engaged, had broken up, and now Bo was dead and Demi the prime suspect. Valeria and Vincent were the latest in a line of doomed relationships. Everyone in town knew it, even if they refused to accept the facts yet.
The idea of finding any lasting satisfaction or peace with Danica was absurd. Not only was he a Colton from the wrong side of the tracks, he’d been wrongfully imprisoned by her beloved grandfather.
“Doomed,” he muttered to Stumps as made his way out to the cemetery.
It wasn’t fair of him to waste Danica’s time. Together, they didn’t stand a chance. Too much bad blood, too many people ready to judge them and toss that bad blood back in their faces. People told him to move on, as if they couldn’t see him doing just that. In the past nine years, he’d finished his education, trained as a P.I. and K9 officer, and did all in his power to keep the police around here honest.
He’d been advised that creating a new life could be easier if he left Red Ridge. Maybe it was time to give that more serious thought.
He turned the corner and leaned into the upward slope. At his side, Stumps adjusted his pace to match Shane’s. “You and me,” Shane said to the dog. “We work.”
At one point, Shane hadn’t been sure he could manage the commitment even of a dog. Reclaiming his freedom had meant no ties, no boundaries. After being locked up for eighteen months, he’d wanted to be able to roam without sparing a thought for anyone or anything but himself.
