Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“Then we’ll both take our chances in front of the judge.”
“Sheriff Luke Taylor,” a tired voice crackles from the phone. “What can I do for ya?”
I use his moment of distraction to try to leverage myself up and manage to succeed, throwing an elbow into Nash’s ribs.
Despite the blow, he presses more weight on me, pinning me again. He wheezes out a breath, barely stringing his words together, “I got a girl under me, Sheriff.”
“Shit, Nash, if you’re calling for that kind of help, I’m not the man for the job.” The sheriff’s flustered tone has me grinning against the rug.
“No, I’m not—she’s trying to steal from me. Caught her reaching for a Rolex I’ve been working on. She’s under a citizen’s arrest right now, but she should be your problem. Come get her.”
“I’m not stealing anything. I just stumbled into the wrong cabin!” I announce. Better to establish my alibi early on with law enforcement.
Luke ignores me, directing the question at my captor. “Nash, are you feeling unsafe right now?”
He scoffs at the question.
For a split second, I consider telling the sheriff that I feel unsafe. But I’ve spent the last two weeks watching Nash almost constantly. He’s a good man. He takes care of his disabled dog and tips the teenager that drives him around way too much money. He stops in at Emma May’s grocery store every afternoon just to give the older woman a sugar cookie with cinnamon icing. He always tells her that Courage Cookies was having a two-for-one sale. They’ve never once had those cookies on sale since I’ve been here.
“I can’t get up the mountain in this mess, so carry on. Might be a few days, but I’ll be there soon as the storm breaks to sort it out,” he says.
“I can’t stay here! My grandmother is expecting me,” I argue like it matters. If it’s not here, it’ll just be in a tent somewhere. Truth is that Nash’s cabin is warm and safe. I’ve passed the night in worse places.
“Appreciate it,” Nash grunts before he ends the call.
I breathe a sigh of relief. All I have to do is wait out the storm and make a break for it the moment it’s safe enough.
3
NASH
“What am I supposed to do now?” I mutter under my breath as I press against the curvy woman. She feels so damn good under me. Pretty sure you’re not supposed to be thinking that sort of thing when you’re doing a citizen’s arrest. Then again, this is my first one so I wouldn’t really know.
“You could just let me go,” she answers.
“So you can come for the Cartier later?” I fire back. Dammit, this is not how I wanted to meet her. After so many days, I’d convinced myself she wasn’t here to steal from me. Should have known better.
She sighs, a long-suffering sound that reverberates through my body. “I told you I was on my way to grandma’s house and—”
Her hair is tickling my nose. It’s that same vanilla scent that I’ve been chasing for days. The smell stirs a long-forgotten memory of baking cookies on a winter day with my mama and brother. I grit my teeth against the wave of pain that accompanies it. I don’t have a family anymore. Never will again. Maybe that’s why my voice comes out harsh when I say, “And let me guess. Grandma has a safe just like mine, and in the dark, you were confused.”
“How did you know?” She asks with such a feign of innocence to her voice that I actually laugh.
“There are easier ways for you to steal from me,” I tell her, unable to resist the urge to nuzzle the back of her neck. I put my lips against the soft skin. She tastes just as sweet as she smells. I’ve never done this before, always held myself back from getting involved with a woman. But I can’t resist teasing her.
“Is that a baton in your back pocket there, officer?” The question is breathy, letting me know she’s not as unaffected as she’s pretending to be. But it’s enough to snap me back to reality. You’re not supposed to maul your arrestee, no matter how good she smells.
“This is how it’s going to go,” I tell her, trying to gather the last remaining ounces of blood that haven’t gone south of the border. “I’m going to tie you up and go back to bed. You’ll still be here in the morning.”
“Your bed looks plenty big enough for two,” she argues. “Promise I won’t cop a feel in your sleep.”
I snort. I’m not sure I’d mind that so much. But I’m not letting her get away with stealing from me by telling Judge Helen about her wild night in the sack with the mountain man.
“Up,” I demand, helping her to her feet while still keeping her wrists secured behind her back. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to let go of her soft skin just yet.