Justice Burning (Hellfire #2)(20)

Nash shot a glance her way.

Phoebe gnawed on her lip, her brows knit in a sad kind of frown.

“Helping Audrey means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“I told you…I want to help.”

“And you feel needed.” Nash could relate. Perhaps that was the reason he’d gone to work for the sheriff’s office. As a soldier, he’d served his country. The ranch was a great place to go while healing his wounds, but he’d needed to be a part of something bigger than himself or the ranch. Serving the community he loved had given him back the sense of purpose and some of the camaraderie he’d lost when he’d been released from the military.

Pulling to a halt in front of the ranch house, he turned. “With this being the last night of the rodeo, the saloon will be slammed. If we’re careful and you stay in the building at all times, we could go. Hopefully, the shooter won’t go all postal on a crowded bar. I’ll touch bases with the bouncer and have her make sure no one gets inside packing a weapon.” His lips twitched. “Greta Sue can be a real ball-buster. She’s not afraid of frisking people if she suspects they’re carrying.”

“I don’t want to put anyone at risk by being there,” Phoebe insisted. “I still don’t understand why someone would want to kill me, or Ryan, for that matter.”

“Since they tossed your apartment, they had to be looking for something.”

“I had nothing on me when I left the church except my wedding dress. I was so angry when I ran out of the church, I left my purse, my wallet and identification behind.”

“I don’t know why you would think your fiancé would stand you up at the altar. He’d have to have been an idiot.”

Phoebe smiled. “Thanks. But I don’t think we really knew each other. I guess I thought he’d come to realize that and wanted out.”

“But you were ready to marry him.”

“I thought I knew him, we’d dated, even kissed on occasion. I was more interested in my horses than in whatever else was going on in my life or his. When Ryan asked me to marry him, I thought it would be nice to have a house of my own, and I’ve always wanted children.”

Nash frowned. “You were willing to marry the man for a house and kids?”

Phoebe stared at the building in front of them. “My parents are proof you don’t have to be in love to be married and procreate. Sometimes I felt like a doll they kept around to dress up and parade in front of their friends and acquaintances.”

Nash shook his head, feeling sorry for the little girl who grew up in a big house with parents who treated her as more of a possession than a cherished member of a loving family.

If she were a member of his family, he wouldn’t have let her feel like a stranger in her own home. But she wasn’t a member of his family. She didn’t belong to him, and as soon as they found the people responsible for shooting at her, she’d no longer need him to protect her.

Though he’d only known her a day, the thought of her walking out of his life, only made him want to reach out and grab hold. The thought was insane, but he couldn’t make it go away. In an attempt to direct himself away from dangerous thoughts of getting to know Phoebe better, and perhaps making her a part of his family, Nash steered the conversation in another direction. “You had horses?”





10





Phoebe smiled across at Nash and nodded. “Yes, we had horses. I imagine my father will probably sell them, now that I’m gone.”

“Neither your mother or father ride?” Nash asked.

“No. My father bought the horses as an investment. I didn’t care what he called it. I was thrilled because I got to ride.”

“While you’re at the ranch, you can ride any horse you like.”

Her chest tightened and her eyes stung. “Can I?” Why was this man so generous? She’d been nothing but trouble since he’d found her on the side of the road.

He gave her a stern look. “As long as I’m with you.”

Her heart lightening, she smiled. Riding with Nash sounded like heaven. “Deal. Could we ride tomorrow?”

Nash nodded, his lips curling up on the corners. “Come on. Let’s see if Beckett and Kinsey are home. I don’t see either one of their vehicles, but they could be parked around back.”

Inside, the house was shadowed and silent.

“Beckett?” Nash called out. “Kinsey?”

No one answered.

Carrying Phoebe’s plastic grocery bag full of thrift-shop clothing, Nash led the way up the stairs. “You can have this room. The bathroom is right across the hall.”

“Thank you.” She took the bag from his hand and laid it on the bed. “Where will you be?”

“I’m in the next room. If you run into any trouble, all you have to do is call out. I’ll be there for you.”

She nodded and stared around the room, glad to know Nash wouldn’t be far. After all that had happened, Phoebe didn’t feel safe. Her self-defense classes wouldn’t help her stop a bullet, should the shooter decide to target her again.

The room she stood in was like a spread in a magazine touting the virtues of cozy cabins in the woods. A wooden four-poster bed stood in the middle of the far wall. A brightly colored quilt covered the mattress, giving the room a warm, vibrant and welcoming quality her room back home lacked.

“I’m sorry,” Nash said. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’s home to us.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide, tears welling. “Oh, Nash. I was just thinking how much like a real home everything here is— this room, this house, the ranch. Not like the sterile, art-deco style my mother prefers. I love it here.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest, inhaling the fresh outdoorsy scent that was Nash. “I’m just sorry that my bid for independence has been at the Grayson family’s expense. I was supposed to live on my own, learn how to survive without my father’s money or servants.” She laughed and dug her fingers into his shirt, wishing she could take back all the trouble. “Instead, I’m a burden on you and your brothers.”

He shifted against her, his hand resting at the small of her back, his cheek pressing against the side of her temple. “You know I don’t feel that way.” He tipped up her chin and stared down into her eyes. “I have to admit, when I first ran into you stranded on the side of the road, with your wedding dress puffed out all around you and your car stuck on a fencepost, I didn’t expect you to stay in Hellfire.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I thought, the first chance you got, you’d be on your way back to where you’d come from.”

“I couldn’t go home,” she admitted. “I no longer fit in there.” It wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way. But this was the first time she’d done anything about it. And boy had she gone out in a big way.

Nash swept a strand of her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, his coarse fingers evidence of a man who worked with his hands. As they brushed against her ear, tingles spread from where he touched on down to her aching core.

“I was certain I’d be glad to see the back of you,” he whispered.

“And now?” She stared up into his clear blue gaze, her heart squeezing in her chest, her breath catching in her throat.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he said.

Phoebe let go of the breath she’d held and leaned into his body, relieved he didn’t regret meeting her.

“If you had gone,” he continued, “I couldn’t do this.” Nash pressed his lips to her cheek and followed the line out to her earlobe.

Unable to resist his touch, Phoebe tilted her head, allowing him greater access to her bare skin.

Nash trailed kisses down the long line of her neck to the base where her pulse beat wildly. “Or this.” He threaded his fingers into her thick hair and tugged her head backward. His lips found the swell of her breasts rising above the dip of the tank top neckline.

She caught the back of his neck and held his head over her breasts, her chest rising and falling like a runner at the end of a race. Each time she filled her lungs, the rounded swells rose, meeting his lips.

He graced them with a kiss, his hand sliding down her back to pull her hips closer. Nash kicked the bedroom door closed behind him.

Phoebe didn’t know where his brother Beckett and his fiancée Kinsey had gone, nor when they’d be back. She didn’t care. She was past thinking about anything or anyone beyond the walls of the quaint little bedroom with the pretty four-poster bed. Her focus zeroed in on the former soldier and all the naughty things he could do.

Nash squeezed the firm flesh of her buttocks.

Heat pooled low in Phoebe’s belly. She wrapped one of her smooth calves around the back of his leg, her skin scraping over the denim of his jeans.

Despite the thickness of two layers of fabric between them, she could feel his heat against her center.

The hard ridge beneath his fly pressed against her leg. God, he was tempting. How could a man who’d only come into her life a day earlier have her wrapped so tightly she could barely draw a breath? With his arms around her, she could feel the hard contours of his body, her own softer curves accommodating him. Desire rose like molten lava, hot and fast, racing outward.