Название | The Twin |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jan Hudson |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Love Inspired |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408958315 |
Ben glanced at his watch, too. “Sorry about that. Do you have an early workday?”
“Not too early, but I usually go to the gym first thing.”
He motioned for the check. “I used to do that, too. B.J.”
“B.J.?”
“Before Jay. Now he keeps me hopping in the mornings.”
After the check was paid and they were leaving, Ben put his hand to her back to guide her out. And left it there. It was a casual touch, but she was totally aware of his hand, of its warmth, of his closeness. His smell even tantalized her senses. He smelled nothing like Brian; his was a new scent, masculine, yet with an undertone of freshness and the vaguest hint of citrus and spice.
His touch made her nervous, but when his hand left her back to help her into the SUV, she missed the feel of it.
“Is Jay with a sitter?” she asked as they drove home.
“No, he’s spending the night with Tracy and his cousins. Rick’s out of town a lot, and my sister loves having the extra company. I think it was pizza and a Disney movie tonight. Tell me, is Sunny your real name or a nickname?”
Sighing, she said, “Both, sort of. It’s not something I tell everyone, because it doesn’t often come up, but the name on my birth certificate is Sundance. How’s that for a name?”
“I think it’s very…interesting.”
She laughed. “Diplomatic response.”
“No, actually, I kind of like it. Goes with the whole outlaw theme Sam was telling me about.”
“Exactly. My father was Butch Cassidy. It’s harder to come up with good women’s names. I’m just lucky I wasn’t named Blue Nose Sally.”
Ben hooted. “I’ll say.”
“My mother did it only because she thought it was what my father would have wanted. She’s always just called me Sunny.”
The drive home didn’t take very long. Ben parked, and when she started to reach for the door handle, he said, “Wait.”
“For what?” Was he going to kiss her? It seemed like forever since she’d been kissed. Her heart picked up its pace and sounded an alarm. Did she want him to?
Yes. Yes, she did.
No. No, she didn’t.
Yes, she did.
But she wasn’t supposed to want him to. There was the guilt again. Oh, Lord, what a mess.
“For me to come around and help you out.”
“For heaven’s sake, why? I’m perfectly able to open a door.”
“Call me old-fashioned.”
She smiled. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Wouldn’t some of her old buddies on the force carry her high if they could see her now? She’d fought hard to be treated as an equal. She had to. There was no place in law enforcement for fan-fluttering females. Being treated like one felt odd.
“Well, I’m not.” She opened her own door and stepped down.
She forgot she was wearing stilettos, stumbled and nearly fell on her keister.
Ben grabbed her elbow. “Gotcha.”
“Now I’m embarrassed.”
“No need to be. I know you’re an independent female, but I doubt if you wear those stilts on the job.”
“Have I been teetering?”
He smiled. “Not at all.”
As they walked up the stairs, Ben walked beside her, his hand on her back again. It felt warm and solid and…tantalizing. Should she invite him inside?
No. Definitely no. She wasn’t ready for that.
When they reached her door, she retrieved her key, turned the lock and pushed the door ajar. She turned and said, “Ben, I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it, too.”
He gently gripped her shoulders and lowered his face to hers. Here it comes, she thought, her knees turning a little wobbly.
But his kiss was so brief she almost missed it.
“Good night,” he said.
“Good night.” She went inside, closed the door and leaned against it. She heard his boots taking the wooden stairs as he hurried down and the sound of his engine as it roared to life. Then he was gone.
When the last echo died, a tap on the door beneath her head startled her. She checked the spy hole, almost hoping it was Ben returning.
Instead she saw Cass and opened the door.
“Tell me everything!”
“DAMN!” BEN SAID AS HE drove home. This wasn’t turning out at all the way he’d planned. He’d been looking for a simple, no-strings relationship. A casual affair to fill his needs. This was going to be more complicated. He felt it in his bones.
First off, Sunny’s being part of Sam Outlaw’s family made things awkward. Second, she didn’t seem the casual-affair type. Oh, she might play the independent woman, and truth was, she was an independent woman. No one, man or woman, who was a wimp got to be a detective. Still, he could tell she wasn’t cut out for an occasional romp in the sack. He sensed an underlying vulnerability in Sunny that brought out his protective streak. Did he still want to get involved with her and chance being played for a sucker again? Did he want to take things any further?
He was still paying for the mess Marla had made in his life. His and Jay’s. He wasn’t ready to jump back into something serious. Jay was his first priority.
But something about Sunny Outlaw Payton—
Oh, hell, McKee. You’d better cut and run while you have the chance.
ON TUESDAY MORNING, SUNNY followed her usual routine: a quick breakfast, paperwork, then a visit to the nearby animal shelter. She loved animals, but with her schedule, she’d never felt comfortable having more than Sadie, her nine-year-old cat. Sadie had been a feral kitten she’d saved from euthanasia, and the small Siamese mix still spent most of her time under Sunny’s bed or in some other secret hiding spot. Sometimes the only way she was sure she really had a cat was when the food and water disappeared. She’d tried to adopt another cat, hoping Sadie would adjust better with a companion. It had been a disaster, and the second cat had ended up with a friend to prevent it from being totally traumatized.
Sunny loved dogs. She always had, but living in the apartment above the café, combined with dreadful working hours and Sadie’s temperament, wasn’t conducive to having a dog. She’d tried that once, too. Sadie had terrified the poor little mutt and had shredded her couch, so Sunny re-covered the couch and found another home for the pup. Now she volunteered at the animal shelter for a couple of hours a week. She walked dogs and played with them and tried not to get too attached. Dogs that were there on one Tuesday often were gone by the next.
Annabelle, a permanent employee, gave her a new dog to walk. A beautiful, mostly German shepherd about three years old, he was extremely well behaved.
Sunny squatted down and scratched his ruff. “You’re a beauty, sir. How did you come to be here?”
“Somebody was moving out of the country and couldn’t take him,” Annabelle said. “A real shame.”
“We need to find you a good home, boy.”
Maybe Ben’s son would like to have a dog. Or maybe he already had one. She’d have to ask. If she ever saw Ben again.