Cowboy Cool: Book 5 (Cowboy Justice Association) (8 page)

The kiss wasn’t too soft or too hard. His mouth was firm and warm and she opened eagerly to his questing tongue, letting him explore as waves of pleasure shook her to the core. Her fingers sunk into his dark hair and she kissed him back eagerly, her toes curling at his expertise.

When it was over he pulled away and shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. “That shouldn’t have happened, honey.”

Probably not but she wouldn’t turn back the clock for anything.

“I’m not drunk, Reed. I’m a grown woman and we wanted to kiss. Don’t worry, you don’t have to marry me or anything.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “I doubt I’d be any kind of a husband. It’s just we have to live here together and I don’t want to unnecessarily complicate things.”

A kiss certainly didn’t make things easier but it had been more than pleasant. She’d forgotten how much she liked to kiss if she were honest, and this man had some mad skills. There was something about him that drew her even though she knew it wasn’t wise.

“I think I’ll just say goodnight then.” She stood and this time he didn’t stop her. Tucking her laptop under her arm, she turned toward the French doors. “Will you lock up behind me and turn off the heater?”

“No problem. I’m going to read for a while longer. Good night, Kaylee.”

“Night, Reed.”

He picked up the book as she stepped inside and headed for the stairs. It had been quite a day and tomorrow promised to be just as eventful. But one thing was honest to God true.

She wanted to kiss Reed Mitchell again.

Chapter Seven

T
he next morning Kaylee was busy in the kitchen making something that smelled delicious while Reed was in her office tapping away at her laptop, trying to pinpoint the origin of the two emails. Sitting at the desk he had an excellent view of the quiet street she lived on. It looked like most of the neighbors were at home on a Saturday which Reed made a note of. Kaylee was most vulnerable when there were no people around.

Swearing at the keyboard, he was getting frustrated and cranky when cars began to pull into the drive and park along the street. He frowned as women and men, obviously familiar to one another, ambled up the driveway, laptops tucked under their arms along with large bowls and trays. Was Kaylee having a party in the middle of the day?

Pulling back the drapes to get a better look, Reed scowled at the gathering crowd on the front porch. He hadn’t said anything to her yesterday but he wanted a list of people in her life so he could check them out. Most victims were familiar with their stalkers, although not necessarily friends. A casual acquaintance she’d only met once or twice could be sending those letters. That would be why they knew where she lived. The idea that this was someone far away that only knew her from her books seemed far-fetched to him, but then he didn’t know any successful authors other than her and Ava.

He heard a few taps on the door to the office and she stuck her head in the room. “I forgot to tell you that my writing group is meeting here today. There’s lunch out on the dining room table if you’re hungry. It’s buffet style. We’ll try and keep it down.”

Reed stood and held up his hand. “Wait, who are these people? What does your writing group do?”

Kaylee opened the door wider and stepped into the room. “I started a writer’s group when I moved back. We meet every month and read what we’ve written and critique it. Sometimes we talk about an issue in publishing. It helps keep people motivated.”

“How did you meet these people?” Reed could hear them moving around in the living room, glasses clinking and chattering voices.

“Friends of friends. Some live in the neighborhood.”

He’d be checking each and every person in this group out, but first he wanted to meet them.

“Sounds good. I’ll join you.”

“What?” Pretty Kaylee looked gobsmacked by his declaration, her forehead wrinkled in worry. She was dressed in faded denim jeans and an oversized cream-colored sweater that hid all of her most beautiful assets. They really needed to have a discussion about her figure. Her lush body didn’t need to be covered up but highlighted.

“I’ll join the group if you don’t mind,” he repeated, enjoying how her green eyes fringed with dark lashes were wide with surprise.

“Uh, sure. We eat first so go ahead and fill your plate,” she said over her shoulder as she headed back to the living room.

Reed chuckled softly to himself as he followed Kaylee down the hall. She was perplexed obviously and now wasn’t the time to enlighten her about his suspicions. If these were her friends she was probably not going to like him doing background checks on them but he needed to do it. Her delicate sensibilities were going to have to suck it up, at least for this.

He filled his plate, trying to keep in the background as Kaylee laughed and talked to her guests. Despite his efforts he was garnering more than his share of attention until finally two women approached him, clearly curious as to who he was.

“Hi.” The attractive middle-aged brunette held out her hand. “My name is Cheryl Hill and I write thrillers. This is Linda Thorp and she writes cozy mysteries.” Cheryl elbowed the blonde. “You must be new to the group.”

Reed shook both their hands and nodded. “I’m Reed, a friend of Kaylee’s. I hope you don’t mind me sitting in today. I’m very interested in the group.”

It seemed wise to keep his answers simple and honest. He was interested in the group but not for the reasons these women assumed.

The brunette smiled coyly and held on to his hand a tad too long. “We love new members,” she gushed. “Have you been writing long?”

“Just started, actually. This is all fascinating to me.”

It wasn’t a lie. Kaylee was fascinating. Everything he learned about her made him want to know more.

“I’d be happy to help you out. I’ll give you my phone number and you can call if you have any questions. Day or night.”

Reed could swear he saw Linda roll her eyes but it was quickly masked with a bland expression. He also wasn’t in the habit of taking what was on offer simply because a woman was looking at him with interest. He was too finicky for that. Besides, despite it being a bad idea, Reed only had eyes for one woman at the moment.

And that woman was currently chatting with a man that stood way too close. His eyes were hot and hungry and his sweet hostess didn’t have a clue that she was being devoured visually.

Without thinking about the reasons why or how rude he looked to Cheryl and Linda, Reed marched over to where Kaylee stood and planted himself right next to her. He didn’t like the way the man looked at her and he sure as fuck didn’t like the way he put his hand on her arm.

“Reed, I see you met Cheryl and Linda. Cheryl lives just a few blocks over.” Kaylee didn’t look upset that he’d interrupted, her face wreathed in smiles. “This is Brent Sharp. Brent, this is my friend Reed Mitchell.”

Brent shook hands with Reed but didn’t seem as happy to see him as Cheryl and Linda had. Reed was going to put this guy’s name at the top of the list to check out.

“Are you joining our little group? Kaylee’s done an amazing job of organizing us.”

Reed crowded nearer to Kaylee, invading both her personal space and Brent’s. She didn’t seem to mind but Brent took a few steps back although he still had to look up as Reed was several inches taller. He wanted to see if the man was aggressive and so far Brent was easily intimidated.

To test him further Reed casually draped his arm over Kaylee’s shoulders. The other man stiffened and his eyes narrowed, taking in every detail of the more than friendly scene. Reed grinned as Brent’s cheeks turned a ruddy shade of red.

“I’m just a guest today but I am very interested to see what goes on,” Reed replied.

“I should say hello to the others,” Brent muttered and shuffled away. Reed watched him closely as he huddled with Cheryl and Linda, the three of them clearly talking about Reed, their gazes darting to him and then back.

He hissed as Kaylee’s sharp elbow connected with his ribs. “Shit, that hurt. What was that for?”

Her lips were twisted as if she was trying not to laugh. “Why didn’t you just pee on me to mark your territory? It would have been simpler. Did you have to intimidate poor Brent?”

Reed leaned down so only she could hear him. “Poor Brent? Poor Brent had his hands on you and I didn’t like it. We don’t know who your letter writer is, and until we do he needs to keep his distance.”

Her eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “Brent is harmless and you don’t get to decide who touches me and who doesn’t.”

Before he could bark back that he would do that very thing, another man in his mid-thirties sidled up and gave Kaylee a hug.

“Walt, we haven’t seen you in a few months. I heard you had a nasty cold. I hope you’re feeling better. I want you to meet someone. Walt, this is Reed Mitchell. Reed, this is Walter Cummings.”

The man seemed affable enough, shaking his hand and smiling. He wasn’t nearly as possessive of Kaylee as Brent had been. They chatted about natural remedies for the common cold and then speculated as to how snowy the winter was going to be.

“How long will you be here?” Walt asked, draining his wine glass. Reed wondered how many the man had drunk already. His nose and cheeks were a tell-tale red.

“I’m not sure,” Reed admitted. “I’m keeping things open-ended.”

“Nice area. Good people,” Walt nodded. “Careful or you’ll be like me. I came for a visit and ended up staying.”

Reed didn’t have a chance to ask what had attracted the man to Champaign-Urbana. Kaylee had stepped away and was loudly calling the meeting to order. Chairs were placed in the living room and everyone settled into a seat. Reed commandeered the chair next to Kaylee’s and she shot him a mean-eyed look that made him have to muffle his laughter. It was hard to be afraid of a little thing about half his size.

Each person took turns reading a few thousand words and the group would comment briefly on whether they liked it or not, offering constructive criticism when appropriate. Everyone seemed to value what Kaylee said as she seemed to have the most experience publishing her work. Linda and Cheryl read interesting passages from their books but Reed wasn’t particularly fond of Brent’s. He was trying to write a military thriller but the guy hadn’t done his homework.

“It’s not a latrine, it’s a head,” Reed said when Brent finished reading. “If your character is in the Navy, it’s a head. Also, no soldier would call a rifle a gun. He’d call it a rifle or weapon.”

Brent flushed and shifted in his seat. “No one will know details like that. It’s the story that counts.”

“I know those things.” Reed shrugged, only trying to help Brent out. “I assume you’re trying to appeal to that type of audience. If a veteran reads your book, or even someone who just loves the genre, they’re going to know all the little details that make it real.”

“I don’t think anyone will care,” Brent argued, sneaking looks at Kaylee. “Were you in the Army? If so, that’s why you think it’s important.”

“I was in the Navy. The Army is only one part of the military.” God help Brent if he ever ran into a Marine. “I think it’s important because realism makes a story better. It draws me in.”

“Were you a Navy SEAL?” Cheryl asked, her eyes going wide and admiring. Reed nodded, hating to even talk about it. Civilians had a lot of fucked up ideas about the military in general and SEALs and Marines in particular. There were more SEALs in fiction than there actually were in real life.

Cheryl clasped her hands together with delight. “A real-live hero right here in our midst. This is so exciting.” Linda and everyone else were nodding. All except for Brent, who was scowling and clearly not very damn happy. “Can you tell us some stories, Reed? I think we’d all love to hear them.”

Reed doubted that very much. What he’d seen hadn’t been pretty or made for television. It had been hard and dirty with vividly real blood, guts, and death. It wasn’t romantic or heroic. Reed had been doing his fucking job.

“Sorry,” Reed shook his head. “The government doesn’t like us talking about our missions.”

It was as good a reason as any and wouldn’t scare the bejesus out of the civilians.