Don't Mess With Texas (31 page)

She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Oh God, you lied to me? You’re married.” She came closer and stared up at him as if trying to see the truth.

“No.”

“Engaged?” She studied him closer.

“No.”

“Involved?”

“No.” Unable to resist, he caught her by the shoulders and pulled her against him.

“Then how is this about sex?” Her brow pinched with curiosity.

He started laughing again. “I told you it’s not about sex.”

She put her hands on his chest and pushed away a few inches. God, he wanted to kiss her again. She was so damn refreshing, so honest, so sexy. And so not the type of woman he needed in his life. Because she was the type a man didn’t want to push away. And he’d vowed to always push.

The thought echoed in his mind and plunged into his chest. It felt as if the thought dropkicked his heart.

One day at a time
. And then what? Damn it, he didn’t want to analyze this.

“It’s always about sex with men,” she said.

“You’re right. Most of the time it’s about sex.” As tempting as it was to forgo telling her the truth, and let this be about sex, he knew he had to do it. “But not this time.” He forced himself to say it. “I was accused of murder.”

“That’s not funny.” She took a step back.

That step hurt. “Which is why I’m not joking about it.”

She moved close again as if to watch his eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

He nodded.

“I was accused of murder and… arrested.” Dallas looked into her eyes, trying to read her like she read him.

“That’s awful,” she whispered.

“Yes, it was. And that’s why I feel terrible about judging you, even for a minute. I should never make rash assumptions. That’s why I need to know you forgive me.”

“Did you go to trial?”

“Yes.”

“And they found you innocent.”

He swallowed. “No. They found us guilty.”

“Us?”

“Austin and my other partner, Tyler. We were accused of stealing drugs from a shipment. Then there was—”

“Glencoe police?” she asked.

He nodded. “You heard—”

“That was you?” She put her hand on his chest. There was no doubt in that touch. No judgment, no question of his innocence.

That’s what he’d expected from Serena. What he’d gotten was questions. How did your fingerprints get there? How did the money get wired into Tyler’s account?

“That was… terrible. They accused ya’ll of brutally killing that couple. Ya’ll went to jail until… someone proved you didn’t do it.”

“And that’s the important part. We didn’t do it.”

“That’s why you’re helping me, isn’t it?” She stood so close that her breasts nearly brushed his chest.

“Part of the reason.”

“And the other reason?”

“It’s probably to do with sex,” he teased her and then leaned down to kiss her.

She put two fingers over his mouth. “Is this going to happen to me? Am I going to end up going to prison?”

“No.” He knew he couldn’t make promises, but he did it anyway. “I won’t let that happen.”

She dropped her head onto his chest and Dallas wrapped his arms around her. He leaned against the counter and she leaned into him. After a few minutes of just holding her, trying not to think about how it would feel to hold her like this without their clothes on, he brushed his hand over her back. She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him.

“You should probably go,” she said.

“Why?” He ran a finger over her cheek and then slowly moved it over her lips.

“Because this might end up being about sex.”

“And would that really be a bad thing?” It was the question he’d been asking himself, too.

She gazed up at him, and he saw desire in her blue eyes. “No. Yes.” She bit down on her lip. “I don’t know.”

He grinned. “I get the feeling you’re indecisive.”

“You got that, huh?” She smiled.

Damn if that wasn’t the sweetest smile. Sassy and sexy. “Yeah, I got that. And I can’t help wondering how easy it would be for me to help you make a decision.” He leaned in, wanting to taste her. Wanting her naked. Wanting it even when wanting someone this much scared him. Because he knew where this kind of wanting could lead—to caring. Then the truth hit. He already cared about her. And not just in a client way.

“Too easy.” She put a finger over his lips. “I just… I don’t want to jump into something without thinking, Dallas.”

And that was exactly what he wanted to do. Jump and not think, the consequences be damned.

He took in a pound of oxygen. Everything he was feeling, things he didn’t want to feel zipping around in his chest like trapped bats. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who needed to think this through. “Okay.” He pushed a palm over his face. But he couldn’t leave her. “Why don’t you grab a bag for the night?”

She stared up at him. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re staying with me for a couple of days to make sure you’re safe.”

She tucked a couple of loose curls behind her ear. “No, I’m fine. The door’s fixed.”

“You’re not fine, Nikki. Someone broke in once, he can do it again.”

“I have my Mace,” she said.

“And they have a knife.” When she didn’t look convinced he decided to put it to her bluntly. “I think whoever got to Ellen thought it was you. By now the press is all over this. The attacker knows he got the wrong person. He could come back.”

“But why? I’m not a bad person. I swear it.” She paused. “What did I do that someone wants to kill me for?”

“I don’t know, but I’d like to find out before he comes back to finish the job.”

She looked down at her clutched hands. Dallas brushed her hair behind her ear. She glanced up. “I’ll get a hotel room.”

“Just come home with me. I promise I won’t touch you.” Realizing he was doing just what he said he
wouldn’t, he pulled his hand away from her face. “Okay, I won’t touch you again. A hotel is going to run you at least a hundred bucks. You told me you were busted.”

She appeared unconvinced, so he went for his trump card. “You could pay for Nana’s cable with what it’ll cost you to stay in a hotel.”

She stared at him through her lashes and he saw her emotionally flinch. “Can you keep that promise?”

“I can.” He smiled. “Unless you change your mind. Then we’ll regroup.”

She bit down on her lip as if considering. “For one night.”

“Maybe two. Until we know it’s safe.”

She tilted her head to the side. Her soft hair swept across one shoulder. “I sleep on the sofa.”

“No. I sleep on the sofa.”

She snapped her chin up. “Then I’m not going.”

He frowned. “You really are stubborn.”

“I thought you liked stubborn blondes.”

“I do, but I like them sleeping in my bed, not on my sofa. How about we flip for it?”

“Nope. And you sleep with Bud.”

She wasn’t going to give. He saw it in her eyes. “Deal.”

She took off to get her bags and he went back into the living room. His gaze landed on the photograph of her and Nana. He picked it up and felt his gut tighten when he saw the pain in young Nikki’s eyes.

How, he wondered, could her parents have done that to her?

At eleven that night, after LeAnn spent three hours at a bookstore looking for something that might hold her
interest, she walked inside her house. She longed to fall into bed and read herself to sleep. Maybe tonight would be a good night. She’d had more good nights lately and really appreciated them. But after handing Tony the papers, she really doubted it. The look on his face kept flashing in her mind. For the life of her, she didn’t know if it had been relief or hurt.

She stopped before she closed the door.

Something was wrong.

She sensed it. It wasn’t just that the lamp was on and she never turned the lamp on because she never sat in the living room. It wasn’t just the light scent of red wine and freshly ground coffee beans, it was… more. The air breathed different.

Tony was home.

The house had already taken on his scent and welcomed him back.

Panic sent her stomach fluttering. Had he come to hand-deliver the divorce papers? Was he that eager to get it over with? But would he have brought wine and prepared tomorrow’s coffee to brew in the process?

Maybe. Tony was instinctively good. He was probably going to tell her to move out—it was his house. He’d bought it before they’d married. She’d known this would happen eventually, but damn, it still hurt.

Closing the door, she tiptoed inside. She looked off into the kitchen and saw a wine bottle opened and two glasses set out, waiting. Beside the wine was a candy dish. She didn’t have to get closer to know it was filled with chocolate-covered nuts.

Breath held, she moved into the living room. Her heart lurched at the sight of him, asleep, stretched out on the
sofa. The lamp cast a yellow glow over his bare skin. And wearing only a pair of unsnapped jeans, there was a lot of skin. Lord have mercy, the man could be in
Playgirl
. He had a washboard stomach, just enough chest hair to make him look masculine. The scar on his right shoulder added to the touch of masculinity. She looked at the coffee table, thinking she’d see the envelope and pen, but no, only a glass of tea… on a coaster. He never remembered to use a coaster.

Quietly, she lowered herself into the chair across from the sofa, and set her purse beside her. She felt herself trembling, felt the tears start to well up into her eyes.

“You want some wine?”

His voice startled her and she jumped. Her gaze shot to his face. He stared at her as he sat up.

She swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

T
ONY OPENED HIS MOUTH
to give her the speech he’d practiced all night. He loved her, didn’t believe she’d completely stopped loving him and he wanted to work it out. But suddenly he feared she’d shoot his idea down before he had a chance to set it in action. He needed a new plan. Fast.

“It’s only for a while.”

“What’s for a while?” Suspicion colored her face.

“Me staying here. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

Believe that I don’t have a freaking clue what I’m going to say
. “They just… took over.”

He ran a hand over his face. Delaying, desperately needing a second to regroup, he got up and walked to the kitchen to pour wine.

“What took over?” she asked.

He passed the television and recalled a news segment he’d seen tonight.

“Bedbugs.” He didn’t look back because LeAnn was good at seeing through him.

“What?”

“My apartment building. Well, six apartments.” He filled both glasses and brought one to her.

“Your apartment has bedbugs?” She looked as if she didn’t believe him, but she took the glass.

“Didn’t you see the news? There’s an invasion. There were guys there wearing hazmat suits and everything. Looked like a sci-fi flick.”

“I heard it was hotels, not apartments.” She stood up.

“I’m sure it’ll be all over the news tomorrow.” And tomorrow he’d better have a better answer.

She looked at the sofa, then back at him, and took a step back. “Have you been treated?”

“Me?” Friggin’ great, now she wouldn’t want to get close to him. Why the hell did he use bedbugs when that’s exactly where he wanted to end up with her? “Yeah.” But how did one get treated? He remembered a friend of his got lice as a kid. “Used the comb and everything.”

“A comb? They get in your hair?” She passed a hand over her head.

“No. Yeah.”
How the fuck am I supposed to know?
“But I didn’t have any. I’m clean.” He patted his chest.

He noticed her eyes followed his hands and stayed there for just a second.
That’s right. Look all you want and forget about bedbugs
. He purposely ran his hand down his chest, stopping inches from his zipper.

Her gaze followed his hand, but then snapped back up. “And your things?”

“My things?”

“I heard they get in your clothes. Your bags. You didn’t bring any with you, did you?”

“Just one.”

Her gaze tightened. “One bug?”

“One bag, but… they freeze-dried it before I left.”
Oh, he was so screwed
.

“Freeze-dried it?” She crossed her arms, disbelief pulling at the corners of her eyes.

“Crazy isn’t it? That’s how they kill them.” He recalled bits and pieces of the news. “They have to either cook or freeze them. Nasty little creatures.”

Some of her doubt seemed to fade. “Why didn’t you go to a hotel?”

Oh shit
. He had to think quickly. “You’re kidding, right? How would I know if they didn’t have bedbugs?”