Since she didn’t want him sliding away from her, she chose the cotton and quickly made the bed before vacuuming the entire house, and then mopping the kitchen and bathroom. After she finished, she opened all the windows to dissipate the scent of the cleansers she’d used then closed the house up tight and lit a candle, one that smelled like vanilla since she’d heard men liked the scent of cookies.
As the hands on her clock ticked away, she set about making lasagna—something she rarely did because her recipe took many layers and the baking time was long. Still, she had time if she didn’t dawdle, so she did her best to shut Preacher out of her mind—at least until she put the pan in the oven to bake. At that point, she had a crisp salad in the refrigerator, as well as garlic bread buttered and seasoned and ready to slide under the broiler at the last minute.
So, she opened the bottle of red wine, poured herself a glass, and carried it into her bathroom to sip while she bathed and did her makeup.
She was ready at five, just in case he took her up on her offer to arrive early.
She wore a casual maxi dress, one that clung to her waist rather than billowed around her, because she didn’t want it to look like she was wearing a tent. The dress was a simple dark blue cotton and sleeveless. The neckline dipped between her breasts, baring a little cleavage, and hugged her hips before falling straight to the floor, therefore not emphasizing the curve of her bottom. Yes, it was fall, and the temperatures dipped wickedly at night, but her house was toasty and warm, so she could wear what felt good. And tonight, the dress called to her, making her feel feminine and pretty.
She also wore silver sandals with thin soles and tiny straps. If she’d been asked, she would have said her feet were her best feature. They were smooth and small, and her toenails were nicely shaped and painted a vibrant red.
Who was she kidding? What man admired a woman’s feet? Standing in front of the mirror, she hoped the cleavage she showed would distract him from her other curves, but then again, he’d seen her coming and going and knew she wasn’t a twig.
Picking up her nearly empty glass, she wandered back to the kitchen to check on the lasagna. It was time to take off the foil and let the cheese on top bubble up a bit. She liked a little crisp around the edges.
Then she poured herself another glass and sat on her couch, which faced the front yard and gave her a view of the driveway. Any minute now…
* * *
Preacher glanced at his watch and cursed as he turned off his engine. It was 6:30, and he was late. The sky was already darkening. He’d vastly underestimated how long it would take to find his second skip.
Marvin Huebner had seen him park in his driveway and had run out his back door.
Behind Marvin’s house was a forest, which had given him acres and acres to seek cover. Every time Preacher had drawn near, Marvin had jackrabbited up and run deeper into the woods, until he’d found a ravine which he slid down on his ass to get to the bottom.
Preacher had followed him, cussing as he went because the ravine had been filled with brackish water and mud. His boots had slurped with every footstep. Eventually, Marvin ran out of steam. By the time Preacher caught up to man who was clinging to an overhanging limb and wheezing, Marvin had apparently decided the best strategy at that point was to mimic a soggy noodle. When Preacher jerked him from the branch and cuffed him, Marvin fell to his knees in the water and refused to move.
“Seriously, dude?” Preacher said, his irritation mounting. “It’s a fucking drug test. Piss now, and you’ll have hours before you can piss again—if you don’t drink the coffee they’ll give you.”
“Man, I can’t pee positive. My girlfriend’ll kill me if I miss our baby’s birthday. Please, man. Give me a couple of days. I’ll find you. Promise.”
Preacher didn’t feel sorry for the man. He’d heard that excuse one too many times to believe it. Or to think the man cared about his baby’s birthday party.
“Sorry, man. You’re going today.” He’d bent close to Marvin’s face and given him a fierce scowl. “The only question I have is whether you’re willing to walk on your own or with my boot up your ass all the way to my Suburban. I don’t care if I have to buy a new goddamn pair of boots either. It’s up to you.”
In the end, Marvin had trudged back through the woods, his head hanging low.
Preacher hoped Laura wouldn’t be so angry she’d refuse to answer the door. He reached for the flowers he’d dashed inside the grocery store to get on his way over. He’d have brought flowers anyway, but he’d bought every rose of every color they’d had to soften his apology.
Walking toward her house, he noted it was small but well-maintained. The roof looked fairly new, so did the paint. The pale blue was accented by a darker blue on the door and shutters. The steps were concrete, the railing iron and also painted a dark blue.
Standing in front of her door, he cleared his throat and rang the doorbell.
He didn’t hear any movement inside the house and glanced around, doublechecking the digits on the mailbox near the curb. Yeah, he was in the right place. His glance moved around Laura’s yard. It was exactly what he’d expected. Pretty and neat, ornamental bushes in beds that were dusted with a fresh fall of leaves. Pansies sat in pots beside the front door.
Raising his hand, he prepared to knock once more, but the door swung open and Laura stood in the doorway.
The scent of lasagna wafted outside, and his stomach growled. Quickly, he held out the flowers. “I’m sorry as hell I’m late.”
Her eyes widened as she reached for the overlarge bouquet. “Oh my. I’ll need three vases.” Then her gaze rose to meet his. “I was beginning to worry…”
“I had a guy I needed to haul in for a drug test, and he decided to run for it. Took me a while to find him. Then I had to go home to shower because he had me running through a muddy ravine.”
“No need to apologize.” She backed away from the door. “Sorry to keep you standing there. You come on in. I have to get these in water.”
He followed her inside, trailing through her living room to the separate kitchen beyond it. Inside the kitchen, he had to blink. Pink was everywhere: the walls, the counter tiles, the rug in front of the sink. Varying hues of the same soft blush pink as many of the flowers he’d bought. The cabinets themselves were painted white to match the white appliances. It all blended to make a very feminine room that suited her perfectly.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I know. It’s very pink.”
“No, it’s…nice.”
“When I bought the place, the kitchen had to be gutted, so I got to choose everything. I decided to suit myself.”
“It’s pretty.” Like you.
“Well, thank you.” Her chin lifted toward the white table in front of a window that overlooked the backyard. “Go ahead and have a seat. I took the lasagna out a while ago. It should be plenty cool to eat. I just have to toast the garlic bread.”
“Take your time.”
“There’s beer in the fridge, but I left the wine bottle in the living room…along with my glass.” She reached for several glass vases and set them on the counter next to the sink. It looked like she’d be busy for a few, snipping ends and filling the vases.
I bought too many flowers. “I’ll go get the wine and your glass.”
He found her glass on the coffee table and a half empty bottle of wine. It looked as though she’d been drinking while watching the road for him to arrive. Guilt made him wince at the thought.
Back in the kitchen, he topped off her glass and set it on the table, then turned to watch as she slid a tray of bread beneath the broiler in her oven.
“Won’t take but a couple of minutes,” she said, already pulling dishes from the cabinet to set beside the large pan of lasagna. “Hope you’re hungry.”
Moving around the kitchen with her gaze off him gave him a chance to watch her. She moved with economy and grace around her small kitchen. No hesitation, completely comfortable in her en
vironment. He watched the way her long dress moved around her body, hugging her frame then falling away. When she bent to retrieve the tray from under the broiler, he gulped because her ass was round and soft, and he could already imagine having those generous globes clutched in his hands.
She quickly plated their food then strode toward him, her sandals clapping lightly on the tile floor, drawing his gaze downward to her pretty, dainty feet. He’d never paid much attention to women’s feet before, but hers were sure pretty.
After she placed the plates on the table, he held her chair then took the seat opposite hers. The lasagna didn’t look anything like the things he bought readymade in the grocery store. And the aroma…
He closed his eyes and breathed it in. “Damn.” When he opened his eyes, she was grinning. “Sorry. It smells amazing.”
“Dig in.”
The first bite confirmed what his nose had been telling him. His gaze didn’t rise again until he’d taken the last bite. He noted her portion was only half-eaten. He felt heat spread across his cheeks.
“Would you like some more?” she asked, her lips curving.
“Please.”
She took his plate and moved back to the counter, her dress twitching. “I’m glad you like it,” she said over her shoulder. “I can’t finish a pan of this all by myself. I’d never button my jeans.”
When she returned with an even larger portion, he made sure to take his time shoveling down his food.
“So, your…skip…made you chase him?” she asked.
“Wasn’t really a bail jumper this time. Just a guy who missed his court-appointed drug test.”
“What’s that like? Chasing after a man?”
“A pain in the a—. Um, not fun.” When her eyebrows rose, he continued, “As soon as I knocked on his front door, he went out the back and ran into the woods. I had to chase him down, look for signs of where he’d been…like boot prints and broken branches.”
“You can track a man?”
“I’m not like a bloodhound or anything, but I can read some signs, plus this dude wasn’t in great shape. I could hear him panting for breath. Every time I got near where he was hiding, he’d pop up and run again. I finally caught him in a deep ravine. Soaked my favorite work boots in sludge.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Your job sounds more exciting than mine.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not the one who’s having rocks thrown through windows or trash bins lit on fire.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You really think it’s one person doing this?”
“I do. Once is bad luck. Twice? I might still have doubts. But three times? You can’t think of anyone who means you or your business harm?”
She shook her head. “I’ve racked my brain trying to figure it out.”
“No one’s interested in your store? No one’s tried to buy you out?”
“No one’s approached me. I do know businesses on Main Street are highly sought after.” When his eyebrows shot up, she laughed. “Yeah, even in little old Dead Horse. Everyone wants to be on the main strip to be seen, at least that’s what my realtor said. Bob Updike would like to have the building next to him so he can expand. Rosita Torres has mentioned a time or two about wanting a space to open a Mexican restaurant.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But they’re both harmless.”
Preacher frowned. “Our boss, Fletch Winter, had to purchase property on the outskirts of town, not that he needed prime realty, not with what we do. The guys told me folks weren’t all that friendly to an outsider buying up land inside the city limits, no matter how far out we were. You’re not from Dead Horse, Laura. How’d you manage to scoop up a building right on Main Street?”
She shrugged. “I offered more than the other party bidding on it.”
“You know who that was?”
“Ethan, my realtor, would.”
Preacher filed that little tidbit away for later. He took another bite of the lasagna. “Swear this is the best I’ve ever had.”
It was her turn to blush. “Thank you. I don’t get many opportunities to cook for someone else.”
“No? Good-lookin’ woman like you?”
She chuckled. “You don’t have to say that. I know I like my own donuts a little too much.”
He frowned. “I’m serious, Laura. You’re…pretty. Not a thing wrong with you.”
“A high compliment indeed,” she murmured, taking a sip of her wine. Her glance slid away.
He sighed, sure he’d said something wrong. He set down his fork. “I’m not good at talking…to women.” When she still didn’t meet his gaze, he reached across the table for her hand. Her glance fell to his hand, and he gave her a squeeze. “Look at me.”
She put down her glass and swallowed. Slowly, her gaze lifted to his. A blush was spreading across her cheeks, and he didn’t like that he’d made her uncomfortable.
“I’ve been tongue-tied trying to work up the courage to ask you out for weeks.”
“Why would you need courage?” she asked softly.
“Because…” He waved his free hand at her. “You’re perfect.”
She tried to drag her hand from under his, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“You’re perfect. Every time I look into your blue eyes, I forget my own damn name. I like the color of your hair, the freckles on your nose.” His gaze slipped lower. “I have to force myself not to look any lower when I’m standing at your counter because…” He swallowed before admitting, “I get hard just lookin’ at you.”
“You do?”
She sounded breathless, and that breathy thread made his groin tighten. He quickly glanced away and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I do. And I can’t be the only man in town who’s noticed how pretty you are.”
“I’ve been asked out exactly twice since I got here.”
He looked at her again, his gaze narrowing. “You dating someone else?”
“I was asked. I wasn’t interested—and I certainly never offered to cook for anyone else.”
“Oh.” That admission sent heat throughout his body. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “It’s a damn good thing we both ate the garlic bread.”
Her mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Why’s that?”
Letting go of her hand, he set his napkin on the table, pushed up from his chair, and circled the table to get to her. When he held out his hand, she stood. He didn’t move back to give her any space. She didn’t appear to mind. No, her chest met his a second before he dipped his head and kissed her.
Chapter 5
Laura thought she was ready. That he’d give her a brisk kiss and move back. However, it didn’t work out that way.
No, to begin with, the kiss wasn’t brisk. His lips pressed softly against hers and rubbed, tentatively circling. Then his hands slowly came up and gently cradled her head, like she was precious. When his mouth suctioned against hers, she couldn’t help but gasp because now she was imagining his lips surrounding the tips of her breasts, which were already hard and tingling.
She opened beneath him, and he groaned then swept inside, his tongue gliding against hers, stroking like she wanted it to stroke against her intimate flesh. She squeezed her thighs together and leaned against his body, wanting to rub on him like a kitten because he was hard everywhere but especially there against her stomach. Without even having her hand cup him, she knew he was large, and now, every plan she’d had to take this slowly and get to know him before inviting him into her bed flew right out of her mind. Lord, she wanted this man.
When he raised his head, she tried to follow him, rising on tiptoe.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Damn, Laura,” he breathed.
She realized her hands had slipped around to his back, and she was clutching him. “That was some kiss,” she whispered.
“I’m not that good,” he said, a small smile curving his mouth.
“Beg to differ,” she said, sliding her hands tentatively up and down his back. “You’re hard everywher
e,” she said, then realized she’d spoken her thought out loud.
His smile stretched. “I am.” And then he pushed his groin against her belly to prove it.
She closed her eyes for a second then looked up at him. “Would you think I’m a loose woman if I asked to see what you’re got pressing up against me?”
He blinked. “Only if you’re sure. I had plans to take this slow.”
Surprised, she raised her eyebrows. “You did? I mean, you had plans…?”
He nodded and lifted her chin higher with his forefinger. “I planned all kinds of dates to help you get to know me. I didn’t intend to give you more than a peck on the cheek tonight.”
“Why? Take it slow, I mean?”
“Because…I like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough. I like looking at you, smelling you…”
Her eyes widened.
He leaned down and sniffed her hair then nuzzled into the side of her neck. “You smell like vanilla and spice. I get hungry just inhaling your scent. I like the way you greet every customer with a smile. I like that smile, that mouth…”
He kissed her mouth again, and she could tell her lips were swollen, more pillowy. He’d done that.
His hands cupped the sides of her hips, his fingers splaying over the tops of her buttocks. “And now, I know how soft you are to touch. And I like that, too.”
Laura hoped like hell she didn’t pass out from hyperventilating, because she was panting like a cat. “But…you wanted to go slow.”
“Because I knew if I held you like this, got this close, I’d want everything.”
“And that’s bad?”
“It is if you don’t want me that close and don’t want to give me everything.”
“This…everything,” she said, her breaths coming faster now. “Does it include this?” she said, her hand slipping between them to at last cup his cock.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“I’m okay with that,” she said, slowly stroking his length through the denim. Her body hadn’t been exaggerating his size. He was thick and hard and long, and dammit if she didn’t want to feel all of that inside her.
Preacher (Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT Book 2) Page 4
