Denim Detective

by Adrianne Lee

  “You need anything from your car?” Beau asked as he reached for his door handle.

  “No.” She hesitated as an unpleasant thought occurred. “Well, not unless you’ve given my things away.”

  “Nothing’s changed here since you—”

  He broke off, his face clouding. The tightness returned to her chest. She’d only been gone two months, but time didn’t stand still. Everything changed. She and Beau were perfect examples. Once they’d been so much in love they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Now their touches held tension, discomfort.

  She stepped out of the car, regret weighing heavily on her heart. The moon was full, the sky star-filled, the air crisper than in Butte. Fresher. She wondered if it heralded the beginning of fresh starts.

  Beau leaned on his cane as they crossed the lighted brick walkway and porch. The door wasn’t locked. No one locked their doors in Buffalo Falls. Not even Sheriff Beau Shanahan. Tonight he made an exception. The bolt slid home with a stiff clank. “I’m not risking an unwanted visitor somehow getting past our canine friends.”

  Deedra drew a shuddery breath, and her senses embraced the fragrance of lemon oil tinged with Mexican spices that were the staple of Pilar’s culinary output.

  Moonlight spilled through the obscured glass on either side of the door. The soft glow of illumination filled the foyer and showed the long hallway into the kitchen on her right, the dark living room on her left and the wide staircase ahead.

  The house had a sturdy feel, as though it would withstand another four generations of Shanahans. The floors were solid hardwood covered with rich throw rugs, the theme as male as the hunting cabin. None of the women who’d married into this family had left as lasting an imprint as their husbands.

  Not even Deedra.

  Beau hooked his cane on the hall tree that had been built by his great-grandfather. He smoothed his hands over his hair, looking suddenly shy, self-conscious and vulnerable. He rubbed his hands down his thighs. Her gaze followed those big, powerful hands whose movements were slow and easy, and memories filled her mind, quickened her heart. Why did she have to recall those hands on her, soothing her, arousing her, satisfying her?

  A flush of heat raced across her skin.

  “Could you help me off with my boots? It’s not so easy with this leg, you know? And Pilar will have my hide if I leave heel marks on her floors.”

  “Will she ever.” Deedra laughed softly. “Sit.”

  She motioned to the hall tree seat. He sat, and she knelt before him. Mindful of her bandaged palms, she gently grasped the boot on his sore leg. She tugged. The boot resisted. She tugged harder.

  “That’s not the way you used to take off my boots.”

  She blushed, her gaze colliding with his. Heat seemed to leap between them, some sort of charged energy. To get away from it more than anything else, she stood and turned her back to him. Bent at the waist, she took his boot between her thighs. His leg brushed hers, the pressure intimate. She struggled to ignore her body’s reaction, but Beau’s big hands grabbed her hips. The touch jarred her, sent jolts of desire coursing through her.

  She pulled the boot away from him as he pulled her hips toward him. The boot seemed determined to stay on. She yanked with all her might; Beau yanked her back at the same time. The suction gave. The boot slipped off and Deedra landed on his lap. He was rock hard beneath her. As turned on as she. Yeah, this was how they used to do it. Exactly how.

  She scrambled to her feet. “I…I didn’t h-hurt you, did I?”

  He just looked at her, his glance a smoldering, exploring caress. “Are you still cold?”

  His voice came out husky, making her aware of her tingling nipples, hard and visible beneath her blouse. As visible as his own arousal.

  “No. I…no.” She spun away, embarrassed at the physical evidence of the passion his very nearness stirred. One thing had not changed, not since that first day they’d met. Whatever it was—an unnameable electricity, a feral attraction—lived on, ignited by any connecting gaze between them.

  He cleared his throat and lifted his other foot. “Please.”

  She hesitated, then drew a shaky breath, knowing the danger of touching him, wanting to touch him, wanting him to touch her. Her breath shuddered out. Her senses seemed heightened. Her nerve endings sensitive beyond anything near normal. Her skinned shins and palms tingled as she gingerly gathered the second boot by the heel and pulled away from him. The boot inched toward her. She tugged harder. Her shoes slipped on the polished floor. She felt her balance give and clamped tighter on to the boot. Jerked harder. The boot stayed snug.

  She gave one final yank. As unexpectedly as the other, this boot zipped off. Beau caught her wrists, keeping her on her feet. The warmth of his flesh touching hers spiraled heat from his hold straight into her heart, into her bloodstream, warming the part of her that had been cold for the past six months.

  Moonlight stroked his blue-black hair, setting it and his eyes ablaze. Her throat tightened, and her gaze snagged on his mouth. That delicious, dangerous mouth. Here was the Beau she’d fallen in love with, the Beau she’d wanted to have babies with, to raise a family with.

  The Beau she wanted still.

  He pulled her to him, and she went without hesitation, slipping onto his lap, straddling him. Deedra’s gaze locked with Beau’s. His incredible emerald eyes burned into her, a pure green fire that carried her out of herself and into a realm vibrating with a shimmering, intimate beat.

  The provocative melody filled her head, sang against her ears, along her nerves, through her veins. Her breath went soft. The bands of tightness in her chest snapped, and she felt freed of all restraint, freed to imbibe in the pleasures of the body, a she-warrior reunited with her beau sabreur.

  Beau even looked the part, his ebony hair mussed, his chin hours too long from its last shave, his expression carnal. She caught his jaw in both hands. Whiskers bit the tender flesh of her fingertips, and the tiny pricks caused echoing twinges in her depths.

  She brushed her lips against his.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and emitted a tantalized groan. “Ah, Dee.”

  Beau didn’t move though, didn’t touch her, just held her with that gaze, with the lure of his thighs between hers. Need shivered through her. But she would not hurry. She traced her finger over his full bottom lip, across the arched upper one. His tongue flicked against her fingertip, wet, hot, enticing.

  She sighed, leaned into him and gently licked that eager mouth with slow, slick swipes until his lips parted and she was tasting him, remembering, reliving, reawakening.

  He smelled deliciously of Old Spice and onions, but he tasted sweeter than anything to touch her palate in months. Her senses gave a joyous leap as the kiss deepened and deepened. At length she pulled back, her breath rapid, fierce. Passion boiled in her core.

  Impatience nipped at her. She burrowed her fingers between the snaps of his shirt, aching to touch him, all of him. The shirt quickly fell away, baring his broad shoulders, his muscled arms, the silken ebony hair on his powerful chest. She gasped as if seeing him for the first time. He was a man sculpted of God’s best material, balance and bone, sinew and heart, all male.

  And at this moment he belonged only to her.

  Her hands feasted on his warm flesh, felt the sensuous tattoo of his heart.

  He peeled off her blouse, her bra, as eager to touch her as she was to be touched. Her nipples beaded against the gentle abrasion of his work-roughened palms and tingling thrills spiraled through her when he took possession of first one breast and then the other. She arched against his hungry mouth, throwing her head back in ecstasy, crying his name.

  He swept her to him, kissing her, quieting her noisy sighs of pleasure, and she realized they could be caught. They were not alone in the house. The thought heightened her arousal, her urgency. She clawed at his belt buckle, struggled free from her own pants. They were soon skin to skin, as naked as they’d been coming into this world, as exp
osed as one person could be to another. An intimacy of both body and soul.

  For the first time in six months, Deedra felt happiness burning up from her very depths. She rubbed against Beau, laughing softly at the joy of caressing him, each sensation new yet familiar, teasing, tempting. He gave a growl of pleasure. “Enough, woman. You’re making me crazed.”

  With that, he lifted her, bringing her down on him, filling her, stretching her, drawing erotic moans from her. His heat felt so hot she thought she’d burn to ashes, but the fire was liquid, melting, intoxicating. They rocked together in the feral dance of lovers, and the shimmering pulse-beat vibrated faster and faster.

  Ecstasy ruled this magical, mystical realm, a physical, spiritual celebration lifting her toward the heavens and into a shattering star burst of erotica. Crystal white sparks of delight exploded within her, shooting from her core to every other part of her.

  “Oh, Beau,” she cried and fell against him, kissing his neck, clinging to him as he clung to her.

  And finally, finally Deedra felt as if she’d come home.

  “Beau?” Uncle Sean’s gruff voice came from the second floor. “That you, boy?”

  Deedra and Beau tensed. She wanted off his lap, wanted her clothes. He held her tight. “Go back to bed, Sean. I’m just locking up.”

  “You okay?” The upper hall creaked. Sean was walking toward the stairs. “Sounded like you might have fallen and needed some help.”

  “No. I’m fine.” Beau assured him. He released Deedra, and she scrambled for her clothes. Beau grabbed his pants off the floor. “Sorry I woke you.”

  Deedra darted into the living room, tugging on her panties.

  Sean called out. “All right…if you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive.”

  Deedra fumbled with her bra. Upstairs, the hallway creaked again as Sean retreated. The door to his room bumped shut, and she blew out a taut breath.

  “Oh, my God. I feel like a naughty teenager,” she whispered. “Didn’t someone tell him I was with you?”

  “I’m sure the ranch hands talked of nothing else once they returned from the cabin.” Beau kept his voice low, too. “In fact, expecting you’re with me is likely all that kept Sean from coming down those stairs.”

  He sat there, buck naked, one leg in his undershorts, grinning at her. He thought this was funny. She felt her mouth begin to curve upward. A laugh slipped from her, then another and another. Beau laughed, too. It was the first time they’d shared such a moment since…since they’d delighted in some antic or other of Callie’s.

  A floorboard creaked upstairs. Deedra froze. Beau sobered. Her eyes grew round, and she crammed her legs into her slacks.

  “We’d better get to bed before Sean comes down again.” Beau tugged on his underwear and grabbed his cane. “I’ll be right back as soon as I’ve locked the rest of the house.”

  She watched him limp to the kitchen as she fumbled into her blouse. Weariness seeped back into her limbs. It had been one hell of a day—death stalking them at every turn. But milestones had been made, too. She and Beau had finally broken through the wall that had separated them for so long. Finally made the first steps toward each other. She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking they were all the way back, but it was a start in the right direction.

  As long as he stayed on her side, they might even make it.

  “Ready?” Beau gathered his shirt and jeans from the floor.

  She took them from him. “Come on, cowboy. Let’s hit the hay.”

  She spun toward the stairs, and Beau kissed the nape of her neck. She smiled and nuzzled him, then pulled away and started upstairs, looking forward to spending the night spooned against him. The hallway split at the upper landing; she and Beau occupied the west wing, Uncle Sean the east.

  The Shanahan men had all been tall, and the four-poster king-size bed that stood in the center of the master suite was as old as the house, built to accommodate Beau’s great-grandfather, the tallest of the clan at six-nine. The armoire and dresser belonged to the same era as the bed. Beau’s mother had chosen to offset all the dark wood with mint-green fabrics and beige accents. Deedra had left it as she’d found it.

  She placed Beau’s clothes on the chair by the dresser and turned down the bedspread while he used the bathroom. He emerged within minutes, took one look at the bed and sighed.

  “Ah, that looks like heaven.” He’d shaved and showered, his hair damp. He kissed her neck again, then yawning, sank to the mattress. “Hurry.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  The bathroom was tile and glass, nearly as large as the bedroom with a huge walk-in closet. She’d thought she’d never see it again and had never imagined she’d feel this glad to be standing here, staring at her pale face in that wide expanse of mirror over the double sinks.

  Pain grazed her lower belly, and she realized, as good as making love with Beau had felt, it might not have been in her best interest physically. Her medication was in a bag in the rental car. She hated to send Beau out for it, but knew she’d need it before morning.

  She took a quick shower and dressed in a favorite nightgown, one Beau had bought her on their honeymoon. He liked the way it hugged her curves. But it didn’t hug her now, she realized, glancing at her reflection. The gown now hung on her like a gunny sack—her curves all sharp angles, nothing soft or feminine. She knew she’d lost weight, but not this much.

  Beau hadn’t said a thing. But he must have noticed. Feeling self-conscious, she came out of the bedroom. “Beau, I need you to do me a huge fav—”

  His noisy snore interrupted her.

  A cramp swept her belly again. She had to get her medicine. She glanced at the bedroom door but made no move toward it. With Beau asleep, she felt suddenly alone again. Fearful. What if the sniper was outside lying in wait? Hoping to catch her doing something as stupid as sneaking out to her car in the middle of the night? She shook her head. Damn it, Deedra. Get a grip. If the sniper was out there the dogs would have sounded an alert.

  No dogs barked. She could dart to her car, grab her bag and duck back into the house without anyone the wiser. Except for the dogs. If they recognized her scent, they might not bark, but they would jump all over her with their dirty paws and slobbering tongues. She didn’t have the strength to deal with that right now. She returned to the bathroom for aspirin and snuggled into the bed beside Beau. She fell asleep within seconds.

  She awoke to find herself alone. This wasn’t the first time she’d awakened without Beau in this big bed, but for the first time in a long lot of mornings, it didn’t depress her. She climbed out from under the sheets and stretched. A cramp crossed her stomach. She would have to see the doctor soon. But this morning, she had to face Pilar and Uncle Sean.

  She straightened the bed, then hurried into the bathroom and froze. Scrawled across the mirror in blood-red lettering were the words:

  If I can get to you here,

  I can get you anywhere, bitch.

  Chapter Eight

  Deedra’s scream cut through Beau like a knife. He dropped his mug on the tiled kitchen counter. Ceramic shards and coffee flew in every direction. “Dee!”

  “Dios!” Pilar cried, her hand moving to her ample bosom. “I thought you say she all better.”

  “She is.” Beau ran as if he’d never injured his leg, moving up the stairs as though he’d healed overnight.

  Pilar followed, mumbling so rapidly in Spanish the only word he caught was “loco.”

  As he tore up the stairs, he prayed Pilar was wrong, prayed the Dee he’d been with yesterday had come home to stay. But his heart stopped at the sight of her curled on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

  “Sweetheart, what happened?” He squatted beside her and folded her against him. Her body trembled in his embrace. “What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, Señor Beau!” Pilar gasped and pointed to the mirror. “Look what she done!”

  Beau’s gaze jerked to the mirror;
his throat thickened with dread. The words were written in lipstick, the same shade of red as the tube Dee kept in the top drawer beside the sink. “Sweetheart, wh-what—”

  Her wide gray eyes lifted to meet his. Hurt and disbelief shone out at him.

  “You think I wrote this?” Her voice inched higher. “You both think I wrote this?”

  Fury steamed off Deedra, sending a chill through Beau. She’d made it clear before she’d run away that his lack of support had eroded their relationship. That he could even consider she would have written this threat underscored everything she’d been telling him. His heart sank. In that single moment of doubt, he’d erased the intimacy, the closeness they’d experienced the previous night.

  But what did she expect? Had she forgotten that she’d been less than rational these last six months? That she’d taken off without telling anyone where she was going, leaving them to fear she’d been snatched by some serial killer, tortured and murdered, or that she might be wandering the country without knowing where or who she was. “Are you saying someone got in here while you were sleeping?”

  “It wasn’t me,” she ground out between clenched teeth.

  Pilar, Beau noticed, was gaping at Dee as though she didn’t recognize her. He supposed the short blond hair and the noticeable weight loss had thrown the housekeeper. Pilar stepped back toward the doorframe. “Señor Beau and I was in the kitchen. No one comes in. We would hear.”

  “I didn’t do this.” Deedra touched her short blond hair self-consciously and turned accusing eyes to Beau. “Did you unlock the front door this morning?”

  “Of course.” He struggled to keep his tone even. “That door is always unlocked during the day.”

  “You locked the house last night?” Pilar’s black eyes flashed with surprise. She crossed herself. “Dios. What this world it comes to when neighbor no trust neighbor?”

  Deedra’s face was eerily pale, except for the splotches of red on both cheeks. She pushed to her feet, seeming to gather some inner strength, and clutched her robe to her chest, holding her trembling chin high. “Beau, could you bring my bag in from my rental car. I have some pills I need to take.”