Don't Mess With Texas (32 page)

“Why couldn’t you stay with your dad?”

Tony hesitated. “He’s afraid.”

“Your dad’s afraid of bedbugs?”

“Of getting them in his house.” He drank a sip of wine.

“I kind of feel the same way.”

“Sorry,” he said, but he knew LeAnn well enough to know she wouldn’t toss him out to a possibly bedbug-infested hotel. Or at least he hoped she wouldn’t.

She put the wine to her lips. “I’m not sure if this is a good—”

“Just a few days,” he said.
Or until I convince you that you still love me
.

“You sure you’re clean?”

“Not a bug on me.” He did another swipe over his chest.

She nodded, looking at him somewhat suspiciously. “You do realize I can call your apartment and ask if this is… real?”

Totally
fucked
. “Do you want me to give you their number?”

She hesitated. “I’m going to bed.”

“Sweet dreams.” He watched his wife walk into the bedroom and shut the door. The bedroom they had once shared, a bed they had loved in, laughed in, and planned their life in. Hearing the click of the lock, Tony dropped down on the sofa.

Why the hell had he said bedbugs?

Nikki woke up with something pressing into her side. Dallas wasn’t lying about the sofa being uncomfortable. She rolled over, stared at the ceiling, and remembered the look in Dallas’s eyes when he’d offered to share his bed. Bud shifted positions at her feet. The dog whimpered when Dallas tried to take him to his bedroom, so Nikki had agreed to let him stay with her. She hadn’t, however, agreed to share the couch with him.

“Why don’t you go to sleep in my bed?”

Nikki rolled over so fast she nearly fell off the sofa. Dallas sat in a chair across from her. She blinked and noticed he was shirtless, wearing only what looked like a pair of long boxers.

She sat up and ran a hand through her hair. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you sleep.”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?”

“Thinking too hard, I guess.”

She swallowed a tightness down her throat. “About?”

“You really want to know?”

She pulled her knee up to her chest. “Is it about sex?”

He laughed. “Well, I thought about that, too.” He paused. “Did you think about it?”

“No,” she lied. She’d only spent a few hours remembering their make-out session on the floor, and remembering it fondly, too.

“Not even a little bit?”

She heard the hope in his voice and decided not to go there.

She hugged her legs. “What else were you thinking about?”

He hesitated as if he didn’t want to answer. Then he finally spoke. “About your dad.”

“
My
dad?”

“Yeah. I keep seeing that picture of you and your grandmother. You looked so scared, abandoned. I don’t see how he or your mother could have done that to you.”

Her chest tightened. “That was a long time ago.”

“But sometimes things stay with us a long time.”

She didn’t deny it. Their eyes met and held. The room suddenly seemed smaller, quieter. Two people, alone. “What stays with you?” When he didn’t answer, she guessed. “Prison?”

“Nah. It isn’t prison.”

“Then what?”

“It’s the people. People who… who supposedly knew me. People who should have known I would never have done what they accused me of doing. People I lost when I was in prison. And then there’s the bastard who framed me.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“Yeah, just haven’t caught him yet.”

“I’m sorry.” And she meant it. She heard the pain in his voice and ached to help him.

“Me, too. About your parents.” He leaned forward in the chair. “Please sleep in my bed.”

“I’m fine.” The silence grew thicker.

“We could share it.” His eyes met hers and she saw the heat of the invitation in his eyes.

She shook her head. But her heart screamed yes. She wanted to lie against him, to touch him, to be touched.

He stood up. “Good night, Nikki.”

“Dallas?”

He turned back around.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

She listened to his footsteps down the hall. She stood up, took one step toward the bedroom, then turned around. What was she thinking? She couldn’t do this, could she?

Oh, but she wanted to.

Slow down, she warned herself. Think this through. Was she really ready for this?

Nikki felt the morning fog begin to rise. Not wanting to face the day yet, she pulled the covers over her head. She’d barely slept after she’d found Dallas watching her sleep. Of course, it wasn’t just the sofa that kept her awake, but the sound of his voice when he’d talked to her last night. And then it was her own stupidity. Hadn’t she already decided she needed distance from Dallas O’Connor? So why in God’s name had she agreed to come here?

Because he reminded her about paying Nana’s cable. Because she didn’t want to get knifed to death. Because she liked him. Because she felt sorry for him because he’d been accused of murder. Because he made her laugh and feel alive for the first time in… a long time. Okay, she had plenty of reasons for agreeing to it, but that didn’t make it right.

Did it?

There’s nothing wrong with a little company every now and then
.

Nana’s words rang in her head. For a flicker of a second, Nikki considered it. Could she let herself get involved with Dallas O’Connor? Could she do it without losing herself? Could she do it without losing her heart? Without completely making someone her whole life as she had with Jack? Jack who had betrayed her. Jack who was now dead.

Now was not the time. But was there ever a good time?

Bud let out a loud snort from the end of the sofa.

Still beneath the covers, she heard a door open. Was that Dallas going into his office? She heard footsteps, only they seemed to be coming toward her rather than leaving. A deep laugh filled the room, but it didn’t sound like…

“You still can’t get her to sleep with you? Did you tell her you were hung like a racehorse?”

Okay, definitely not Dallas.

Unable to resist a grin, Nikki yanked the covers from her face. “He forgot to tell me.”

Bud barked.

“Shit!” The man—dark black hair and warm brown eyes—took about three steps back, slammed into the coffee table, and sent the glass of water she had on the table crashing down to shatter by his feet. “I’m sorry. I thought… Oh shit!”

“Shit, what?” A deep voice boomed from behind her.

Sitting up, she looked away from the shocked man and shattered glass to where Dallas stood in the hallway wearing a… towel. Just a towel. And he wore it well. Lots of warm olive-colored skin, hard abs, a chest lightly dusted with hair, shoulders that begged to be leaned on, and thick
dark hair that curled at the ends when wet. It took all of Nikki’s strength not to sigh out loud.

“I… I thought. Nothing,” the stranger said.

“You thought what?” Dallas asked.

“I… thought she was you,” he confessed. “She was covered up—”

“What did you do?” Dallas glared at the man. “Not the horn?”

“No.” He picked up the biggest piece of broken glass. “I’ll get this up.”

“Just go,” Dallas said.

Obviously embarrassed, the man left Dallas’s apartment. Bud jumped down and ran into the kitchen while Dallas looked at Nikki. Aware of how her body tensed beneath his gaze, Nikki drew the covers to her neck.

Bud barked. Dallas gripped his towel. “I need to…” He turned abruptly, walked into the kitchen and let the dog out. She watched him walk, taking in his bare feet and long thick legs, then averted her gaze when he sauntered back into the living room.

“That was Tyler,” he said.

“The other PI?” She tried not to look below his chin, but it was hard to not look at perfection.

He nodded. “What did he do?”

“Nothing.”

Their eyes lifted at the same time, met and held. “I’m gonna get dressed,” he said.

Good idea.”

A grin tilted his lips as if he knew she liked what she saw. “The coffee’s ready. Help yourself. Don’t… cut yourself.” He waved at the broken glass. “I’ll get it in a minute.” He tugged at his towel and walked away.

She watched him move down the hall, even leaned over the edge of the sofa to get a better view.
Hung like a racehorse, huh?

“I said I’d get that.” Dallas walked into the living room five minutes later.

Nikki looked back at him with what he hoped was appreciation, because she’d looked at him much the same way when he’d only had on a towel.

“Yeah,” she said. “But Bud’s barking to come back in and I didn’t want him to cut himself.”

She bent over to hold the dustpan, while attempting to sweep up the glass. Dallas lost himself for a second, appreciating her shapely backside encased in soft cotton pajama bottoms. When he caught himself, he took the broom. “Let me. You get yourself some coffee.” He swept the last of glass into the dustpan she held.

“I will.” She stood up.

He followed her as she went to empty the dustpan in the garbage. She stored the dustpan back in the pantry and he added the broom. Bud barked at the door.

He let the dog inside and Bud ran right up to Nikki and started wagging his entire body. “He really likes you.” Dallas pulled two cups from the cabinet.

She knelt and Bud went up to her, all tongue. “I like him, too.” She petted the needy dog, and damn if he didn’t feel as needy as Bud. He swallowed hard.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black’s fine.” She stood up.

He passed her a cup. They both sipped, staring at each other over the rims. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d almost broken his promise and touched her.
Last night when she’d come out of the bathroom, smelling like toothpaste and soft woman, he’d ached to pull her against him and taste the minty flavor on her lips. And when they talked in the middle of the night, he longed to pull her up off the sofa and take her to his bed.

“We always have doughnuts in the office,” he said. “I’ll bring you one?”

“Just coffee.” She pressed her lips to the rim. “This is good. Thanks.”

He continued to stare. “How bad’s your back hurting?”

She looked back at Bud. “It’s fine.”

He laughed. “What? Does your eyebrow jump when you lie, too?”

She glanced up and grinned. “The sofa wasn’t that bad.”

“I’ll take it tonight.”

“I probably should go home tonight.”

He frowned at her over his cup. “Not yet.” But he wasn’t sure if it was for her safety, or if he just didn’t want her to leave. “I kept my word and haven’t touched you.”

“I can’t stay forever.”

“I’m not asking for forever.” He set his cup on the counter.

Her baby blues stared right at him. “So, what are you asking for?”

Suddenly he wasn’t sure what they were talking about. The one-day-at-a-time speech he’d been giving to himself came to mind, but it didn’t seem appropriate. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Something that looked almost like disappointment flashed in her eyes. Hell, what did she want him to say?

“I’m opening the gallery today. Fridays are good days for sales,” she said as if throwing out words to help the help chase off the awkwardness.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said.

“It’s broad daylight.”

“Would you like to see the statistics of daytime crime versus nighttime crime?” he asked, not liking that he sounded so protective. But was it wrong to not want her to get killed before he proved her innocent?

“I’m not crawling in a hole and hiding,” she countered.

He frowned and, because he understood how she felt, he tried to temper his tone. “Is someone going to be there with you? I’d go, but I have several appointments to keep.”

“The stores on both sides of mine are open. I know the owners. As a matter of fact, I have voice messages from both of them.”

“Were they not open when Ellen got attacked?”

“No. They close earlier than the gallery. But today I’ll close the shop at five instead of seven.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “You have my number on your cell, right?”

She nodded.

“Will you take my calls this time?” he asked.

“If I’m not helping a customer.”

Their eyes met again. “I’ll come by when I get a chance. We’ll do dinner out tonight.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Is that okay?”

She hesitated. “Okay.”

From that pause and the sound of her voice, Dallas knew she was just as conflicted as he was about where this was leading. The fact that he was willing to even consider that it led somewhere had him wanting to leave skid marks on his kitchen tile.