Blue Jeans and a Badge

by Nina Bruhns

In answer, she levered over, spilling him onto his back, with her canted over him. “Better?” she asked between kisses.

  “Define better.”

  He felt her smile again, and she grasped his wrists in her hands. A spurt of excitement curled through him when he realized what she was doing. He willingly let her gather his wrists above his head and straddle him, her mouth never lifting from his.

  Her breasts squashed onto his chest, their hard little tips poking into him, tempting his fingers to seek them out for special favors.

  But he’d promised.

  “Take off your top,” he urged, hoping she’d forget.

  “Just kissing,” she reminded him, lacing her fingers through his, still above his head.

  “Damn, woman,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

  “Want me to stop?” she asked, her succulent mouth pausing in its task of licentious exploration.

  He closed his eyes and forced his wound-up body to uncoil a little beneath her. “Maybe when I’m dead,” he murmured.

  He could do Zen. He’d do anything it took to keep her on top of him with her mouth fused to his.

  He tightened the weave of their fingers and waltzed his tongue over hers. And prayed he had the strength to be patient. Because there was not a doubt in his mind that he was right. She would end up naked under him.

  It was just a question of when.

  But there was a bigger question starting to play in his mind. One he wasn’t quite so comfortable with. And that was, how would he ever let her up once he got her there?

  Chapter 6

  The whole next day Luce spent following Philip’s backside up and down the steep, rocky washes and flat-topped cliffs around Abiquiu—which he called arroyos and mesas—looking for Clyde’s box canyon.

  As backsides went, Philip’s still made her mouth water, just as it had that first night. So, even though her legs ached and her new boots pinched a little through the thick socks Philip had made her buy with them, she didn’t mind so much traipsing along after him. Let him watch for the canyon. She enjoyed watching the back of his jeans.

  Even though they hadn’t found the canyon yet, it had been a fun day together. She’d grown more used to hiking around in the middle of nowhere, and wasn’t totally unnerved by the great outdoors any longer. Philip kept up a running narration on the various plants, birds and rock formations, bringing the harsh landscape to life. It was nice being with him. Comfortable.

  This morning at the motel hadn’t even been awkward, which was slightly amazing. In the past whenever Luce had played hard-to-get with a man, he’d always avoided her like the plague afterwards, usually permanently. Not that she’d ever been playing. She’d just rarely wanted what those men had wanted.

  Last night she’d been tough on Philip, kissing him for a long time before declining to go any further, as she’d told him from the start was her intention. He probably had no clue that the line had probably been harder for her to draw than it had been for him not to cross it. Because this time she did want what he wanted.

  So after all that, she’d been more than a little surprised when he’d shown up at her motel room door that morning with a smile and a kiss and a bag of crullers like nothing at all unusual had happened the night before.

  Okay, all right, there had maybe been that one awkward moment. When he’d seen the red patches on her jaw and told her she needed to wear more sunscreen today because she’d gotten sunburned yesterday, and she’d informed him that it wasn’t the sun that had burned her. It had taken him maybe ten seconds to figure out what she meant. His hand had gone to his own jaw, and a weird look had come over his face.

  “Oh,” he’d said, running his hand over the dark stubble that had yet to appear there that early in the morning, “Sorry. Next time I’ll have to shave first.”

  But he hadn’t looked sorry at all. In fact, he’d looked proud and possessive, like he was making a note to himself to see whether he could put that redness onto other parts of her body later on tonight.

  “Don’t shave for my sake,” she’d told him. “I kinda like it rough.”

  Right about then is when she’d grabbed the Walther and hurried out of the room because he’d gotten a look in his eyes like maybe he didn’t want to wait until tonight, after all.

  But when he’d gotten to the Jeep he’d been fine. More or less. He’d buckled up, then leaned over, grasped her behind the neck and given her a thorough kiss, and said, “I had a real good time last night.” Then he’d let her go, started the Jeep and they were off to Abiquiu.

  From then on it had been business all the way. For him, anyway. Okay, for her, too, since her business had been watching his butt all the way up and down those arroyos and mesas.

  She really had to get a grip. Six hours, you’d think a woman would get tired of the same view.

  All at once she ran right into him.

  “Oof!” he went, and grabbed her arms to steady her. “Hey, watch where you’re going, there.”

  “I am,” she assured him, trying to hide her smile.

  “Getting tired?”

  “Not yet.” She felt her lips twitch.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “You don’t have that kind of time.”

  He gave her a puzzled look, then said, “You haven’t been watching. You didn’t even see that bear, did you?”

  She did a semipanicked three-sixty of the landscape, which was thankfully devoid of wildlife. “What bear?”

  He harrumphed. “I knew it.”

  She scrunched her mouth up. “You tricked me.”

  “You’re supposed to be looking for the canyon, not watching the ground for snakes. That’s why I’m going first.”

  She blinked. So he wasn’t on to her. Thank goodness. “Sorry. It’s just, you’ve got the newspaper photo. And everything looks the same to me, anyway.”

  Which was true enough. She’d just about figured out the difference between a mountain and a mesa. The mesa was flat, mesa being the Spanish word for table. She was still working on arroyos and barrancas, which looked identical to her.

  Philip gave her a sympathetic smile, and pulled her to his chest, enfolding her in his arms. She sighed, suddenly realizing that was exactly what she’d wanted him to do for the past few hours. She was tired and really wanted to be grouchy, but she liked being with him so much she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about wasting almost the entire day on a wild-goose chase. God, what was wrong with her?

  “Shall we call it a day?” he asked, even though it was only about three in the afternoon.

  “We haven’t covered the whole area we wanted to check,” she protested, but only halfheartedly. She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. “We should keep going. My boss only pays for three days’ expenses per job, so starting tomorrow I’m on my own dime.”

  “He pays a per diem?” Philip asked.

  “Only as long as I keep up my success rate,” she joked. But not really. She was lucky he paid any expenses at all. Most bondsmen didn’t.

  “You could move in with me,” Philip suggested. His voice was neutral, but she could feel his muscles pull her closer.

  “Yeah, that would be a good way to keep myself out of your bed,” she answered with a wry chuckle. Not.

  “I have a guest room.” He tipped her chin up. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “It’s not a matter of trust, Philip. It’s a matter of prudence.”

  “Hmm,” he said, and kissed her.

  She gave a hum of enjoyment as she opened to him, loving the taste of him in her mouth and the smell of him surrounding her. She was getting used to touching him, having his body pressed up against hers. She liked it. She liked it a lot. Which was why this whole thing was so dangerous.

  But before she could pull away, he did.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I have an idea.”

  So did she. She just hoped his wasn’t the same as hers.

>   Because then she’d be in big trouble.

  Not that she wasn’t already.

  “Where are we going?” she asked when they’d gotten back to the Jeep and were bumping down the dirt road.

  “I realized we’ve been going about this canyon thing the wrong way.”

  “Oh?”

  “Didn’t the old ladies say the kids hid out in some kind of ruins in that canyon?”

  “That’s how the story went.”

  “Well, have we seen any ruins yet?”

  “Nope.” She slapped her forehead as it dawned on her where he was going. “Lord, why didn’t we think of that before?”

  “Pretty dumb not to check the archaeological maps, eh?”

  “Or talk to someone. Do you know anyone in the ruins business?”

  He thought for a minute, then nodded. “Yeah. I know someone who works as an archaeologist at the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture in Santa Fe. We could call her.”

  Luce didn’t know why the instant he said “her” Luce’s insides suddenly churned into one big, irritated knot. She certainly didn’t want to know how Philip knew “her.” Or how well.

  “Sounds good,” she forced herself to say, and turned to look out the passenger window until she could get her frown under control.

  “Renata’s great,” he said, oblivious to the fact that Luce didn’t give a tinker’s damn how great Renata was. “She’s one of those women who walks into a room and lights it up with her presence and enthusiasm,” he continued, and Luce set her jaw. “She moved here from somewhere in Europe when she was a teenager and has been studying Indians and ruins ever since. She’s absolutely beautiful,” he said, and Luce wanted to lean over and strangle the breath out of him so he’d stop talking about the stupid b— “You’d never know she just turned seventy.”

  Seven—

  Luce whipped him a glance and he returned a guileless smile. The rat. He’d known exactly what he was doing, and her reaction to it.

  “Delightful. Can’t wait to meet her,” Luce said. And wondered about the sad state of her sanity. But she didn’t have time to wonder too much, because just then Philip’s cell phone rang.

  He grabbed it off the console and glanced at the screen. “It’s Ted. Maybe he found something for us. Hey, buddy,” he said into the phone. “What’s up?” He listened for a moment, then said, “We’re heading that way right now.” After another moment he looked at his watch and said, “Sure, we’ll meet you there about six.” Another pause, then a grin. “Yep, she’ll be with me.”

  When he hung up, she tipped her head at him expectantly. “Well?”

  “Says he might have something of interest concerning Clyde Tafota.”

  “He’s turned up?”

  “No, something about a job he did recently.” He shot her a wink. “I really think Ted just wants to meet you. I said we’d meet him at the Shamrock Slipper for dinner. My treat.”

  She wasn’t sure quite how to respond to any of that. So she settled for, “Why would he want to meet me? How does he even know about me?”

  “I may have mentioned you in passing.”

  She hiked a brow.

  “A couple times.”

  She hiked the other brow.

  “I may have confessed I thought you were hot.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Do grown men really say stuff like that?”

  “Only when they’re not thinking straight.” He gave her a little-boy smile. “Anyway, that’s probably why he wants to meet you.”

  She covered her mouth and stifled a laugh. “Oh, my God, Philip. What am I going to do with you?”

  His smile turned lopsided, and she held up the other hand as she laughed, waving it in a “stop” gesture. “Don’t answer that.”

  “We could start with dinner and a movie,” he suggested, grinning.

  “There’s a movie theater in Piñon Lake?”

  “No. But we can rent one and go to my place after dinner.”

  “You’ve got a one-track mind, O’Donnaugh,” she said with amused exasperation.

  She’d never experienced this kind of pursuit before—where she was the quarry being run to ground. But it also felt…good. Nobody’d ever wanted her this much, in quite this way. Not a nameless he-just-wants-to-jump-her-bones way, but in a real, he-wants-Luce-Montgomery way. Philip had made it clear he wanted her, but he really wanted her.

  “Determination,” he said. “That’s what makes me a good cop.”

  “I can believe it,” she muttered, affection and admiration all mixed up with a rising dose of alarm. How could she possibly keep this man at arm’s length?

  “I guess it’s only fair to warn you,” he said, and suddenly she wondered if she really wanted to keep him at arm’s length.

  “About what?” she asked, even more alarmed because somehow, deep down, she already knew the answer.

  Then he looked her straight in the eye and smiled. “I always get what I’m after,” he said. “Always.”

  Since they had plenty of time for the trip back to Piñon Lake, Philip made a stop in Santa Fe at the museum to see if Renata was in town or out on a dig somewhere.

  “Dr. Jesper will be back from Albuquerque tomorrow,” they were informed.

  Philip left her a note, and they walked around the collections for a few minutes before leaving.

  “Some beautiful things,” Luce said as they admired the ancient pottery. “These are awesome. How old did you say they were?”

  “These are a few hundred years old, but some of the pueblos around here make some pretty good reproductions if you’re interested.”

  “Yeah? I may have to think about switching my collection.”

  “You collect pottery?”

  She gave him a goofy smile. “Um, not exactly.”

  “What do you collect?”

  She stuck her tongue inside her cheek. “It’s a little embarrassing to admit.”

  “Dildos?”

  She barked out a burst of laughter and smacked him lightly on the arm. “No! Not— I collect Santas.”

  “Santas? As in ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas?” She nodded and he broke out in a wide grin. “You’re kidding me.”

  She smothered her own grin and poked him in the chest. “One more word and you’re a dead man, O’Donnaugh.”

  He lifted his hands as he laughed. “Okay, I surrender.”

  “I’ve collected Santas ever since I can remember,” she said, and rubbed her arms up and down as if cold. “My mom said Santa’s image was a comfort to me when I was first adopted, so she indulged my obsession.”

  Philip’s laughter caught in his throat. He pulled her to him and kissed her temple. “Well, I think it’s sweet. We’ll have to find one for you with a southwest flair. Maybe one landing on a cactus in the fireplace or something.”

  She chuckled and nestled in his embrace. “You don’t think it’s silly?”

  “Nothing wrong with silly,” he said, and kissed her. “So, do you have fantasies about Santa, too? You know, like maybe after he’s done with the presents he sneaks into your bedroom and—”

  “Philip!” she squeaked, scandalized, pushing out of his arms with a giggle. “You are so bad!” She marched off toward the front entrance.

  “Just wondering if I should get myself a red suit,” he called after her, raising the curious head of a guard along the way.

  By the time he’d chased her back to where they’d parked the Jeep, she was laughing and put up only a token fight when he swept her into his arms and gave her a proper kiss. The one he’d been wanting to give her all day.

  “You need to quit doing that in uniform,” she sighed when he finally let her up for air. “People are getting the wrong impression.”

  “Are they?” he asked, giving her a last quick one for the road. “I don’t think so.”

  Ted’s sheriff’s cruiser was already parked out front when Philip pulled up to the Shamrock Slipper. He was excited about getting some possible good information on Clyde Tafota. Bu
t he was even more excited about showing off Luce to his friends.

  Half the town would be at the Slipper, either for happy hour or dinner, and he knew they’d be curious about the pretty stranger staying solo at the Lakeview Motel, it not being tourist season and all. He also knew Betsy would have informed anyone who’d listen that he’d taken the lady out in his Jeep for two days running, on what he said was a case. He could just imagine the speculation. Usually he was more circumspect with his affairs, but for some reason he wanted everyone to know Luce was his. Even though they weren’t exactly having an affair.

  Yet.

  Ted was at the bar chatting with Betsy and Rich, the bartender, and a few other locals, when Philip ushered Luce into the restaurant with a hand to the small of her back. Everyone looked up and greeted him, and he took his time exchanging a few words at each table. “This is Luce Montgomery,” he said, “She’s helping me on the Soffit and Dickson robbery.”

  Most people wouldn’t pry into a police investigation, but he knew they were all curious, especially about the fate of Jim Kendall, who was currently sitting in the county jail despite his protests of innocence. He and his sister, Suzy—Dickson’s secretary—were native Piñon Lakers, their late parents having settled there some fifty-odd years ago. So naturally the townspeople mostly believed Jim, despite the circumstantial evidence to the contrary.

  Anyway, no one asked why Luce was helping with the investigation, or who exactly she was, for which Philip was grateful. He didn’t want word getting around he was working with a bounty hunter. Not until they’d settled this Clyde Tafota thing one way or another.

  When they finally made it around to the bar, he introduced Luce to Ted, and Betsy led them to a small square table in the back. The whole time they were taking their seats and Betsy was chatting on about blue-plate specials and fresh trout, Ted sat staring at Luce with a puzzled frown.

  “I’ll just have my usual, darlin’,” Ted told Betsy, and studied Luce as she decided what to order.

  Philip was getting more and more annoyed with his friend. Not that he had anything to worry about. Ted was on the downside of his fifties, balding and showing the effects of a decade-long crush on Betsy and hanging out at the Slipper whenever possible.