His voice had softened until it was like warm butter seeping into every pore of her skin, igniting her senses.
“I’d be pleased…” He raised his other hand, “no…honored, if you would allow me to protect you by staying by your side twenty-four-seven. Please, say yes. The decision will be one hundred percent yours.”
For a long moment she stared at him, her eyes narrowed, her free hand fisted in her lap as she fought to keep from throwing them around his neck and kissing him. He would probably be appalled by her advances. Just because she was secretly lusting after him didn’t mean he was lusting after her. Oh, hell, she was getting too deep, too fast with a man she’d only met a day before. Phoebe didn’t believe in love at first sight. But lust? Oh, hell yeah. Nash Grayson was purely lust-worthy and he was staring with those incredibly blue eyes, imploring her to say yes. “I’ll think about it,” she finally blurted. Anything to get him to let go of her hand before she raised it to her breast and begged him to touch her any ol’ way he liked, and then some.
“Be advised...If you say no to coming with me to the ranch, I’ll be forced to sleep in my truck here in the driveway, to make sure you’re okay. I wouldn’t want you to feel bad or anything about making me sleep in this cramped, bullet-ridden vehicle.” His lips twisted in a wry grin. “I’m willing to do whatever is needed to keep you safe. Even sacrifice my beauty sleep.” He winked.
“I said I’d think about it.” Hell, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Crammed into his truck, outside her window. Or, if she went with him to his ranch, he could be in the room beside hers, sleeping naked. Cowboys slept in the nude, didn’t they? Oh, sweet Jesus. Was it hot inside the truck cab, or was it her? She resisted the urge to fan herself.
“Fair enough,” Nash said. “Now, if you could stay put, I’ll check things out.” He climbed out of the truck and studied the nearby houses, the bushes, shadows and windows, probably searching for gunmen.
Phoebe could imagine him in full combat gear. Images of news reels ran through her mind of soldiers fighting battles in the desert hills of Afghanistan. Only Nash wasn’t in a foreign country. Yet, he was facing a potentially hostile environment in Hellfire, Texas. Because of her.
Eventually, he opened the passenger door and helped her down from the truck. Using his body as a shield, he walked with her up the stairs to her apartment, following closely.
The entire time he hovered over her, she prayed no one would shoot. She didn’t want anything to happen to Nash. He’d more than proven himself a hero by rescuing her a couple times already. He deserved a long, peaceful life. Not one peppered by bullets meant for her.
As Phoebe pressed the key into the lock, the door swung open. “What the hell?”
Nash shoved her behind him. “Let me go first. While I do…sit.”
She didn’t argue, just did as he said, and sat, her hands shaking as she stared past his legs to the interior of her apartment as Nash entered.
From what she could see, boxes had been thrown, their contents spilled onto the floor. The drawers of the small kitchenette had been yanked from the cabinet, knives, forks and spoons strewn every which way.
Holy hell, what a mess. Phoebe crawled through the door and stood, her heart breaking over the damage.
Blankets and sheets of the twin bed in the corner had been ripped down the middle as though someone stabbed a sharp knife into the mattress and slashed down the center. Pillows were ripped open, the stuffing scattered like small cotton clouds. “Who would have done this?” Phoebe whispered through the hand covering her mouth.
Nash spun to face her. “I told you to wait and let me check it out.”
“I’m sorry,” was all she could say, tears welling in her eyes.
He shook his head and held open his arms.
Needing the reassurance of someone holding her, Phoebe walked into them. She felt as if her space had been violated. No place was sacred or safe.
“By the looks of it, someone was looking for something.”
“But I don’t have anything. The boxes are Lola’s. They’ve been here for a lot longer than I have, and nobody bothered them until I came along.”
Nash smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’m betting whoever shot at you did this.”
Phoebe curled her fingers into his shirt, clutching onto her sanity in the face of so much adversity. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Sense or not, you aren’t safe here.” He tipped up her head. “You agree, don’t you?”
She nodded. “How am I going to tell Lola? She took me in. Gave me a place to stay. And I repay her with a trashed apartment.” She waved her hand at the boxes. “And her things have been destroyed.” She couldn’t stay here. Phoebe looked up at Nash, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from trembling. She brought too much danger to the people around her. “I have to leave. I’m like a magnet for trouble.”
Nash tightened his arms around her. “You didn’t do this. Stop blaming yourself.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes, instead her gaze dropped to his lips. “I’m beginning to think I should just go back to my life with my father and give up on this insane notion of independence. Then, at least, no one else will be hurt.”
“No one else has been hurt.”
She touched his shirt where the bullet had cut a hole. “You were.”
“Just a scratch.” He tilted her chin upward. “You’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay. Let the sheriff and his deputies handle finding the bad guys. In the meantime, I’ll keep you safe.”
His tone was warm, caressing, and his arms felt so strong and comforting. When Phoebe met his gaze, she melted into his blue eyes. More than her fear of bullets, she was afraid her heart wouldn’t be safe from this handsome deputy. Nash didn’t need her kind of complication in his life. He deserved so much better. With her breasts crushed to his chest and her hands trapped between, she couldn’t fight the intense longing building inside. “Are you sure I’ll be safe?” she whispered.
“I promise,” Nash said. Then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss started out light, almost like an exploration of her mouth. Phoebe leaned into him, her hands climbing up his chest to circle around the back of his neck and bring him closer.
His tongue skimmed the seam between her lips and she opened to him.
At that point, something snapped between them.
Nash raised one hand to cup the back of her head, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping the length of hers, caressing, thrusting and flicking hers until she could barely think. At the same time, his other hand dug into her buttocks, pressing her belly against the hard ridge beneath the fly of his jeans.
Phoebe should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. Instead, her body burned, an ache spreading outward from her core, making her want more. She lamented the barrier of clothing separating her body from his.
When he finally raised his head, he stared downward for a long moment.
“Phoebe?” A female voice called from below. Footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Nash dropped his arms to his sides, and Phoebe stepped backward as Lola arrived in the doorway. “I don’t think my kitchen floor has ever been as shiny, or my laundry room so clean as it is today—” She stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth falling open. “Oh, my God. Phoebe, darlin’, are you okay?”
Phoebe struggled for words when her entire being shook with the force of her desire for the man standing so near. “I’m fine.” Hell, she wasn’t anywhere close to fine, and she might never be fine again. Not after that all-consuming, earth-shattering and soul-defining kiss.
Nash drove to the ranch in silence, still reeling. Had he known how profoundly he would be affected by one kiss, he might not have kissed Phoebe.
Who was he kidding? The more he’d been with her, the more he’d wanted to kiss her. Especially after the shooting, when Phoebe had shown her true colors. She hadn’t wanted any of her newfound friends hurt because of her presence. She’d have gone back to her father’s world, a world she had sworn to leave behind, just to save her adopted town from trouble.
If a body was truly in that stolen car, the murderers had killed once. They probably wouldn’t stop until they killed again.
Nash’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The sun was setting on the Texas horizon. Before he left Hellfire, he’d been in contact with the sheriff. The deputies had canvassed the area and hadn’t found any mention or evidence of a sniper except for the bullets lodged in the door panel of Nash’s truck. The sheriff sent them immediately to the state crime lab in Austin but it would take time before the office got anything back. Without suspects, all they could do was be on the lookout for a stranger carrying a sniper rifle.
With the tri-county rodeo still in the region, they had lots of strangers to choose from. Too many.
“I promised Charli and Libby I’d work at the Ugly Stick tonight,” Phoebe said as they pulled through the gate of the Coyote Creek Ranch.
“Out of the question,” Nash replied without having to think about it.
“Part of me agrees with you. The part that knows I could bring down the shooter on the patrons of the saloon. The other part wants to help them while Audrey is out of commission. She gave me a job when I needed one so badly. I hate to leave her in the lurch.”