by Desiree Holt
She lifted her chin. “What’s that? More conditions?”
“Uh uh. Just this.” He lowered his mouth to hers, the pressure soft at first and then increasing as he traced the seam of her lips with his mouth. “Open,” he murmured, and when she did, he thrust his tongue inside, tasting her, the contact so electric she felt it straight to her nipples and the inner walls of her pussy.
When he broke the kiss, she could only stare at him through glazed eyes.
“Wow.”
“From my side too.” He took her hand. “Let’s go and see if your friends are all you say they are.”
Which was how, thirty minutes later, she found herself sitting next to him at the Starks’s dining room table. Reenie had insisted on playing hostess, setting out snacks in the center of the table and pouring coffee and iced tea for everyone.
As if by silent agreement, all eyes turned to Dillon as the sheriff. If a law had been broken—and in this case that was an understatement—they acknowledged him as the person to take the lead.
“Okay, Mac.” He cleared his throat. “I think we all know the bare bones of the story by this time, being the usual nosy bunch that we are.”
His wife jabbed him with her elbow. “Speak for yourself. I’m not nosy, I’m just gathering news.”
“Yeah, whatever.” But he grinned at her. “In any event, could you tell us one more time, and be sure to put in every single detail you have. You never know what scrap of information will be the key to unlocking something.”
Nida sat quietly while Mac recited the facts of the accident. He was calm and stoic as he told the story yet again, including the aftermath and the cover-up. The fact that he reached for her hand and gripped it tightly the entire time told her just how tense he was. As he laid everything out, his grip on her hand grew tighter, but she never flinched. Instead, she gave an answering pressure to show him she was with him all the way.
When Mac finished speaking, there was dead silence around the table, but no one looked away from him. His pain and anguish was reflected on all their faces.
Dillon was the first to speak.
“All right. Let’s take everything in order.” He pulled out his cell phone and began to make notes. “Mac, you said that you were able to get some paint scrapings from your sister’s car? Paint from the attacking vehicle?”
“Yes. I have them. I managed to get them when they left me alone in the police impound lot for a few minutes. I’ve just been trying to figure out how to get them analyzed so I’d know what kind of car it is. Then I’d need a way to put them into the state DMV data base.”
“I can do that,” the sheriff told him. “How soon can you get them to me?”
Dillon unsnapped his shirt pocket, reached in and withdrew a sealed envelope and handed it over to Dillon
“This quick enough?”
The sheriff gave a lopsided grin. “I should have guessed you’d be prepared.” He turned the envelope over and wrote his name and the date across the flap. He handed it back to Mac and asked him to do the same, so they could both verify it. “I’ll get on this first thing in the morning. What’s next?”
Mac told them again how he’d been hanging out at the bars where most of the ranch hands in the county spent time, hoping to pick up gossip that would at least narrow the field for him. The men either bragged about or berated their bosses and he hoped something they said would give him a clue.
“I can do better than that,” Matt spoke up. “Dillon, I’ll make a list of every ranch of any size in Rowan County and give it to both you and Jinx. Between the two of you, you can see who blows the most hot air, who throws their weight around the most, and who’s got kids that might be prone to trouble.”
“I’d say, if he still lives at home and hides behind Daddy, he’s somewhere between eighteen and twenty-five,” Amy Montgomery said.
“You still lived at home when you were thirty,” her brother teased.
She smacked his arm. “That’s because you couldn’t run the ranch without me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“And he’ll fit a certain profile,” Dillon pointed out. “Arrogant. Full of himself. Probably got a rep for throwing his weight around.”
“That was me not so long ago,” Cade said in an uncomfortable voice.
“But look at you now.” Georgie gave him a smile that visibly eased his tension.
“Yeah, look at him,” Dillon joked. “Business owner, Chamber of Commerce board member and everything.”
Cade looked at Georgie and winked. “Who’d a thunk it, right?”
“I don’t mean to break up the Cade Hannigan Fan Club,” Nida joked, “but can we refocus here?”
Matt nodded. “We can, and you’re absolutely right. We have business to take care of.”
“I can talk to the other deputies,” Charity offered. “I’m still new enough here that they’ll believe me when I say I just want to get to know Rowan a lot better.”
“You’re positive whoever this is lives in Rowan County?” Jinx asked.
Mac nodded. “The same friend who told me about the cover-up said the police know the person lives here.”
“I don’t suppose you can tell me who this friend is?” Liam asked.
Mac shook his head. “Not that I don’t trust everyone here, but I gave my word and I never break my word.”
“Nor do we,” Liam said. “So we respect that.” He looked around the table, then back at Dillon. “Okay, boss. Give us our assignments.”
“I can’t believe you are all doing this for me,” Mac said, “a stranger you hardly know.”
Matt Stark looked at him across the table. “We’ve all had some hard stuff to deal with, so we’ve kind of honed our senses. For one thing, we respect Nida’s intuition. She hasn’t gotten where she is in real estate by not being able to read people.”
“For another,” Buck broke in, “we like to think we all have our own radars. We also know Dillon paid you a visit. If he thought there was something off, you wouldn’t be sitting here now.”
Nida glanced sideways at Mac and wondered if everyone could see the wave of emotion tightening his face. He squeezed her hand again and she gave an answering clasp.
“All right, folks. Let’s go around the table and see who’s going to do what.”
Nida was so proud of her friends, so warmed by their support. She had no idea what Mac’s friends in San Antonio were like, but she’d put these people up against them any day. When the meeting broke up, the men all shook hands with Mac and the women gave him a warm hug, as if they’d known him forever. He thanked every one of them, expressing his appreciation. But he was silent when they climbed into the SUV and on the drive back to his house, as if he’d used up all his words for the night. When they reached his driveway and he still hadn’t spoken, Nida kept on driving.
“Wait.” He reached over and touched her arm. “You missed the turn.”
“No, I didn’t. I get the feeling there’s a lot going on in your head and I don’t think it would be good for you to be alone tonight. I’m taking you home with me.”
He barked a laugh. “Nida, I’m not some pity case that you have to tuck into bed safely.”
“Trust me, Mac. If I tuck you into my bed, it won’t be out of pity. Can’t you just accept what people offer you?”
“I’m trying, believe me.” But he looked out the window instead of at her and was silent for the rest of the drive.
Finally, she pulled into the driveway of the neat house she’d purchased in an older neighborhood of Saddle Wells. She almost giggled when she thought about it. Almost. This Saddle Wells neighborhood was older, with mature trees and lush landscaping, even on the smallest homes. She pressed the button on her visor, the garage door slid up and she drove inside.
“Okay, sport.” She unhooked her seat belt. “Unless you want to
sleep in the car, it’s time to get out.”
Still just as mute, Mac climbed out of the SUV and followed her into the house.
Nida put on her best businesslike air, flipping light switches as she led him through the rooms.
“I keep the guest bathroom stocked with incidentals,” she told him, “like razors and toothbrushes.”
He glanced into the room she indicated. “You have a lot of men sleeping over who need to shave?”
“No, but I do have female visitors who might want to shave their legs. I hope the color pink doesn’t offend you.”
He actually gave a short, rusty-sounding laugh. “I think I can bear up under it.”
Still in the same efficient mode, she turned on the lamp in the guest bedroom and waved her hand at the connecting door to the bath.
“I don’t expect guests, but just in case, when you use the bathroom you might want to lock the door to the hall.”
He had followed her into the room. Now he turned to look at her, eyebrow cocked.
“So I shouldn’t expect to hear other voices in the night?”
She managed a smile. “Only if I’m playing my television too loud.”
“Good to know.”
When he said nothing else, she managed a tiny smile. “If you get hungry, feel free to help yourself in the kitchen. Unless you decide to walk all the way back to that rattrap you’re rehabbing, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“If I’m still here.”
She stared at him. “If you’re what?”
“Still here.” He bit the words off. “I need to stop playing and get to work.”
“Playing? Is that what we’ve been doing?” She swallowed hard. “Fine. Playtime’s over. I get it. Don’t slam the door on your way out.”
Head held high, she marched out of the spare bedroom into her own and closed the door softly, resisting an overwhelming urge to slam it. Her head hurt and so did her heart. Damn him to hell, anyway. He wasn’t the only person to ever suffer a loss. Or to have painful circumstances surround it.
She had feelings too. Apparently, he’d decided he wanted to forget everything that had happened between them, like he’d tried to do in the beginning. He certainly was an emotional mess, so she could cut him some slack. But she’d taken a big step, a big risk, going out to his place and putting herself out there for him. He could—
He could what, Nida? Fall all over you? Pretend he’s not on a vendetta?
She thought about it while she stripped off her clothes and tugged on her sleep shirt. She thought some more while she washed her face and brushed her teeth and her hair.
Are you so self-involved that you expect him to forget the pain he’s feeling and tell you he’s sorry?
“I’m sorry.”
She was so startled she dropped her hairbrush in the sink. Had she really heard those words or just imagined them? But when she looked in the mirror, there he was standing behind her. He’d lost the shirt and, as irritated as she was with him, she was still fascinated by the hard planes of his chest covered with a scattering of dark gold curls.
Trembling slightly, she turned to face him. “Excuse me?”
That damn muscle twitched in his cheek again, the indication that he was stressed out.
“I said I’m sorry. And I am.”
“What for?” She was going to make him spell it out. No waffling or avoiding anything here.
He blew out a breath. “For acting like an idiot and an ass. You and the others are going out of your way for me. More than my own friends have, as a matter of fact. You especially deserve a lot better than hostility and silence.”
Nida clasped her hands together to still their trembling. “And why me especially, Mac? What are you telling me?”
He stepped forward until his body was nearly touching hers, crowding her against the sink.
“Because of what’s happening between us.” He tunneled his fingers in her hair so he could hold her head in place. “I thought I’d lost the ability to feel anything but pain and rage. I didn’t plan on making a connection with an incredible, sexy woman. Don’t get me wrong. The pain and rage are still there. But the moment I slid inside you the other day, I felt as if I’d come home. As if my entire life had been on hold until that very moment.”
His gaze held her riveted, the intensity in his eyes burning into hers. Nida grasped his wrists, wrapping her fingers around them to keep herself from falling, she was suddenly that weak.
“Nothing to say?” he asked. “I know damn well you felt it too.”
“I…” She wet her lips. “Yes. I felt it too. But past experience has told me not to trust it. Driving here after the meeting tonight, when you turned so cold and silent, I was sure I was right. And your attitude…” She blew out a breath. “I know the pain you’re in, Mac. I know how betrayed you feel by the police. But…” She held her hands out in a helpless gesture.
“But that’s no excuse for me to treat you the way I have. Or act that way.” His lips were barely an inch from hers now. “I’m sure everyone thinks I’m overreacting here—”
“No,” she broke in, the word sharp. “Not at all. You’ve had a tragic loss made worse by the money-fueled politics of the situation. I should be apologizing to you for asking too much of you.”
She would have taken another step back, but she was flush against the sink with no place to go.
“Stop.” She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. “I’m an independent ass, but standing in your guest room, reliving everything after talking it all out tonight, I realized something. I need you.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “I’ve never needed anyone before in my life, except for my twin. I never took relationships seriously, maybe because none of them were. But when you walked out of the room before like you were pushing me into a corner, it struck me like a knife in the gut.”
“Don’t say that just because you’ve had a bad night,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything unless you mean it.”
“I won’t promise not to be an ass again before this thing is over, but I will promise to try hard not to be. And to assure you it is not personal.”
“I’ve had promises before,” she told him, her voice still soft and low. “They were empty words, and in the end I was the one who got hurt. I put myself out there for you even though I’m afraid of making yet another mistake. But—”
“If I’m an ass,” he interrupted, “you can give me a swift kick, okay? But please don’t walk away from me.”
He brought his mouth to hers again, firmer this time, licking her lips gently with the tip of his tongue before pressing against the seam. With no further urging, she opened for him and welcomed the taste of him inside. The heat of him, the flavor of him warmed her clear through her body, sending jolts of pleasure to her nipples and to her sex. She still clung to his wrists for stability, her legs weak from the power of his kiss. When he broke the kiss and trailed his mouth along the line of her jaw, down her neck and back up to the sensitive spot behind her ear, every nerve snapped in response.
“I think we need to move this to the bedroom.” His voice was low and rough with need.
Nida could only nod. He swept her up in his arms much the same way he had the other day and carried her into her bedroom. She was glad she’d already turned back the covers, leaving the sheets soft and inviting.
Mac stood her beside the bed long enough to tug off her nightshirt and toss it to the side and give each throbbing nipple a light pull with his mouth. Then he lay her down, opening her legs. His eyes never left her body while he stripped off the rest of his clothes. She flicked a glance at the condom he pulled from one pocket and dropped on the nightstand.
“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered. Then he gave her a tiny smile.
“I don’t—I mean I’ve never—” she stammered.
“Touched your pussy?
Your clit?” His gaze locked on hers. “I think you’re telling me a fib.”
“I— Not in front of anyone.” The words came out on a whoosh of breath.
“Then the other men in your life were stupid if they didn’t make you comfortable enough for this.” He narrowed his eyes. “If I say please will you do it for me?”
Swallowing hard, Nida nodded and slid her hand down over her tummy until she reached the soft curve of her mound. Splaying her hand, she slipped two fingers into her slit, already wet and juicy with need and stroked herself up and down until her fingertips came to rest on her clit. The minute she touched that hot button of nerves, electricity jolted through her entire body.
Mac knelt between her outspread legs braced his hands on either side of her and bent closer to watch her, his eyes burning with sexual hunger. She watched him watching her, watched its effect on him, focusing on that as she moved her hand in the familiar rhythm she used when she was alone. The rhythm she’d especially developed over the past four years. She stroked herself and rubbed her clit, feeling the tremors in her inner walls grow with intensity.
Her breathing became choppy and the clawing need scrabbled its way up from deep inside her.
“That’s it, darlin’. Yes, just like that. Pleasure yourself while I watch. Your pussy is getting so wet and pink, your clit so swollen. I couldn’t get it out of my mind after the other night, how sweet you tasted on my tongue, how that little bundle of nerves felt when I rolled my tongue around it. How good your juices tasted.”
“Mac.” She breathed the word as her climax spiraled its way up through her body.
“Yes, sugar. Make yourself feel good. Make yourself come.”
His words were all the trigger she needed. She erupted, planting her feet on the bed to lift her hips, rubbing her clit ferociously as spasms rocketed in her inner walls. She moved her hand to slide her fingers inside herself, needing something for those walls to grip. Mac brushed her fingers out of the way and instead pushed three of his own inside her. She clenched down on him, rocking on his hand, her own fingers still stroking and rubbing and pinching her clit until at last the shudders began to subside.
