Sinclair Justice (12 page)

In her quiet hotel room, Abby buried her face in her pillow and gave a frustrated grunt, which was as close as she came to an emotional outburst. Seeing Sinclair restless with a sensual need he could scarcely control made her realize it had been well over a year since her last partner. So what? Grimly, she moved the pillow away, tucked it back under the spread, and smoothed the fabric. Then she went to the mirror, combed back her disarranged hair, and tightened it even higher on her head, quelling her impulses with the same ruthless sense of order. Then she went to her evidence stash and opened a new box, sitting down with her checklist.

Saturday morning, Emm was more careful with her makeup than usual. She even penciled in a bit of eyeliner, wanting to look her best.
For this couple she’d never met or for Ross?
she asked her own flushed face in the mirror. “For myself,” she said firmly, turning away.

She’d dressed in the yellow sundress again as her wardrobe was too spare to allow for a new outfit every day, but she’d seen the appreciation in Ross’s eyes that night at his place when she last wore it. She slipped on low-heeled sandals and gold jewelry, spraying on a dab of her favorite rose-scented spritzer.

Lastly, just as the knock came at her hotel door promptly at eleven, she slipped the flowered shawl over her shoulders. Her smile stretched wider when she saw Ross. Usually he wore starched white shirts and black jeans. Today he was dressed in short sleeves that displayed his muscled, tanned arms and worn blue denim that clung to his thighs and other places she tried very hard not to notice but did.

” You look lovely,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I like that dress.”

“Ditto,” she said shyly.

He grinned. “You like my dress or I look lovely?”

He always looked lovely to her, and she suspected he was one of those men who would age so gracefully that he’d still be stunning at ninety. But she only shook her head at him and followed him out. “So tell me a bit about this couple.”

He helped her up into his big SUV. As he drove off, he said reflectively, “They met in a very strange way, almost as strange as the way you and I met. She was a suspect in Chad’s brother’s disappearance, and he went all the way to LA from Amarillo to grill her. Chad’s not much of a womanizer—he’s from a Ranger family turned ranchers from way back—and she led him quite a little dance, appropriately enough, as she was an exotic dancer. An exotic dancer working on her law degree at USC.” He smiled at obviously fond memories, but his smile faded as he said gravely, “She risked her life to help him catch the real perp, her onetime boss, but unfortunately they were too late to save Trey.”

“So Jasmine knew all along that they were a good fit?”

He shrugged. “Chad sure didn’t. He has brass cojones and an even harder skull, plus there was another redhead who confused the picture. But women are always better at that emotional stuff.” He sent her a sideways glance that made her so warm she had to slip the shawl off her shoulders. “Right?”

“So how does she like Texas?”

“Turned out she was from Houston until she ran away from home when she was eighteen. Chad contacted her father and helped reunite them, and that was all it took. They were married a few months later and within a year had little Trey. She’s almost finished with her law degree now. Her father is a judge.”

“How long have you and Chad been friends?”

“Oh hell, I’ve known him ten years at least, but now he’s stationed in Lubbock with a different company, we’ve become close because I’m not his supervisor anymore.”

“Interesting.” Emm was still a bit puzzled as to why he’d included her in an intimate luncheon with his best friends, but she was happy to be with him in the bright day, for once not worrying about Yancy and Jennifer.

When they arrived a few minutes later, the old clapboard house had a fresh coat of paint and new shutters, along with a big rocking chair on the wraparound porch. Ross helped her from the car. As she got out, her shawl slipped again. He caught it with automatic male courtesy, wrapping it back around her shoulders. His knuckles brushed her exposed flesh in the vee of the dress.

They both froze. The bright Texas sun seemed to melt and pour into her veins, and when she looked up at him, she saw only his head limned in the light. But he could obviously look into her eyes, brilliant blue in the sunshine, and she was wondering what she’d revealed when his head lowered and his mouth covered hers. His movements were jerky, and she realized he was as compelled as she.

And then she couldn’t think . . . she could only feel.

Though it was only the second time they’d kissed, their bodies melded together as easily as old home day. As if they’d done this hundreds of times before, as if they belonged this way. Emm tilted her head back, pulling his head down to slant her mouth even closer against his. His knee moved between her legs, winnowing her feet apart. She felt the hardness in his worn jeans, and a deep, irrepressible need made her move one foot between his spread legs and tilt her hips upward, answering that need, even as she slid the tip of her tongue into his mouth.

A strangled gasp rewarded her, and again, most unlike her, she took advantage, exploring his delicious mouth more deeply. He tasted of spearmint and passion. Their tongues dueled as their hands began to wander.

One of his hands had cupped her breast and she was unbuttoning his shirt when a discreet cough penetrated her sensual haze.

“Uh, welcome,” said an amused masculine voice.

Emm’s eyes blinked open, filled with sunlight and embarrassment. She jolted away, teetering unsteadily. Ross finally came out of his own sensual haze with a jerk. He still had presence of mind enough to steady her with a hand on her waist.

“Howdy, Chad.”

“Howdy, Ross.”

His own cheeks brick red, Ross led her forward to the bottom of the steps. “Sorry; we were a bit distracted.”

“I noticed.” Chad’s mouth was suspiciously straight.

Ross scowled, daring him to go on, but Chad only offered his hand to Emm. “You must be Ms. Rothschild. Pleasure. Welcome to my ranch.”

Emm had to clear her voice twice before she could calm herself enough to answer, and even then she sounded squeaky because she could not recall ever being so mortified. “Thanks for inviting me. Ah, may I borrow your restroom?”

He showed her where it was, down the hall. She splashed water on her face, not surprised to see she was as scarlet as the flowers on her shawl. What had possessed her to act like that in a stranger’s yard? She glared at her own dilated, deeply blue eyes in the mirror.

She took a deep breath and touched up her makeup. One thing was certain: She couldn’t leave here without giving herself the gift of Ross Sinclair. Afterward, she’d miss him even more, but it would be worse to wonder for the rest of her life what it would have been like. And based on the incendiary way he responded to her, he wanted her almost as badly, so she doubted she’d have to seduce him. Still, she’d never made such blatant overtures to a man before, so she was in uncharted territory.

When she came back out, her cheeks were still pink. Ross was sitting on the couch, both arms stretched along the back. He had a fixed smile on his face. Chad was grinning. Emm glanced between them, but a beautiful, voluptuous redhead exited a room down the hall, carrying a blue-wrapped bundle.

She smiled warmly at Emm. “I’m so glad you were able to come. I’m Jasmine. And this is Trey.”

Emm looked at the sleeping face. Her throat closed up even more. All she could do was smile like an idiot.

“You can touch him. He won’t break. Babies are much tougher than people realize.”

Emm gently stroked the soft head with one finger. Trey didn’t even stir.

She felt an intense focus on her and looked up. Ross was frozen in place, staring at her.

She tilted her head slightly, wondering at his expression. Jasmine handed the baby to her husband. “Have to get back to the kitchen. Do you want to come with me?”

Emm was relieved to be able to escape the living room and its strange undercurrents. “Sure. What can I do to help?”

A few minutes later, after she’d dusted the last of the chicken in a paper bag full of flour, Jasmine had a streak of flour on her chin and her cheeks were heat flushed in the old kitchen where she’d obviously been cooking for hours. The cabinets looked recently painted and there was an old, scarred oak table in the middle. The stove was ancient but obviously cooked well as several dishes sat covered and ready to be dispensed. A huge cast-iron skillet held sizzling fried chicken that filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma.

“Do you mind setting the table?” Jasmine asked as she turned back to the skillet. “Use the good dishes in the hutch.”

Emm carefully pulled out gold-rimmed bone china. It looked old. “Are you sure you want to use this?”

“Yes. It makes me think of Chad’s mama. I wish I’d known her, but she passed before Chad and I met. But the two of us wouldn’t be together without her.”

Emm paused in setting out the plates. “How so? If you don’t mind me asking . . .”

“Not at all.” Jasmine pulled the last piece of fried chicken from the skillet, critically eyeing a few dark spots. “Texas Rangers are a different breed, and women tend to gravitate to them. Chad’s not conventionally handsome, like Ross, and the first time I met him I thought he was an asshole. But after I got to know him . . . he has a tender side he lets few people see, and that all came from his mom. Family means even more to him than his job, and I know if I ever need him, he’ll be there through tornado, pestilence, or famine.” She looked at the piled-high golden brown chicken. “Of course the latter isn’t likely to happen around here.”

Emm laughed with her. “So you met him while you were in law school?”

“Sorta in spite of it.” Jasmine smiled, her pale green eyes dancing with mischief. “He wanted to arrest me first thing because I was a no-’count stripper who tempted his brother Trey to LA after suckering him out of his land. Dancing was the only way I could afford law school, but Chad softened toward me when I helped him gather evidence against my old boss that proved he was behind Trey’s kidnapping.”

Emm vacillated between shock and laughter. “Must be a Texas Ranger motto; instead of ‘one riot, one ranger,’ ‘see a woman you like, arrest her.’”

The men came back into the kitchen to gales of female laughter. Ross looked suspiciously between them and then at Chad. “Why do I get the feeling they’re laughing at our expense?”

Chad only grinned. He dabbed a paper towel in water and wiped the flour off his wife’s face, kissing the same spot. “We’ll get our own back, but after we eat. She finally used my mama’s fried chicken recipe I’ve been offering her for over a year and I’m afraid if we don’t eat now it may disappear like a phoenix.”

“Keep it up and I’ll brown your share extra well,” Jasmine threatened.

Chad poked at a leg suspiciously. “Looks like you already did that.”

“Hey, I never made any promises. You should have known I can’t cook when the best meal I ever made you at my place was a grilled cheese.” Jasmine sat down in the chair he pulled out for her.

Ross did the same for Emm. He was smiling indulgently as he listened to their banter. He caught her eye and winked, his hand caressing the top of her head before he sat down next to her. She wondered what he’d said to Chad about their embrace. It was obvious Chad had been teasing him.

Blushing, she unfolded her napkin into her lap. She had to squelch a sharp pang of envy along with an even more powerful wave of curiosity as to why Ross had invited her into this scene of domestic bliss. If only such scenes were part of her own life. Ducking her head, she wiped her mouth to hide the sudden tremor, but then Jasmine and Chad’s ribbing about prior cooking disasters made her laugh. She bit into a juicy piece of chicken. Delicious; a bit crispy, true, but tasting of home and the many generations of women who had used this exact recipe. Tradition on a plate.

After dinner, Chad and Ross insisted on washing up. Emm offered to help, but other than letting her clear the table, they wouldn’t allow it, so she went back into the living room to find Jasmine feeding little Trey. Earlier, Emm had been afraid to hold the boy, but this time, when Jasmine burped him, she offered him up to Emm. Sitting next to her on the couch, Emm carefully held Trey as his mother indicated. Jasmine put her breast back into her bra and had just buttoned her shirt when Chad and Ross came back from the kitchen, laughing at some male joke the women were not privy to.

Chad sat down in the battered recliner, but Ross had stopped so abruptly the swinging kitchen door hit him in the rear. He watched Emm and the baby exchange a long look.

Chad and Jasmine both looked between Emm and Ross, but for once he seemed oblivious. On the edge of her consciousness, Emm knew they were all watching, but she was so enchanted she didn’t care. She whispered to the baby, “You’re going to wow the girls someday with those big blue eyes.” She moved the blanket back from his face and he latched onto her finger, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it. She froze, thinking of nothing to say but an inane, “My hands are clean.”