Project Produce(34)

“No,” I snapped. “Just a little Bahama Mama. I was only trying to protect myself.” I sighed. “Sorry.” The heat of his body pressed snugly to the length of mine warmed me to my toes.

God, it felt good touching him again. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d missed him. Seeing him this afternoon had seared his image in my brain for the rest of the day, but darn it, I did not need him in my life right now. At least not in the way he kept hinting at.

Note to self: My body doesn’t give a rat’s hiney.

I shivered, but not from the cold. He mistook the meaning and pulled the sides of his coat closed over my back, squeezing me tighter to his chest, then left his arms around me. I struggled to think and then pushed away and scrambled to my feet, welcoming the cold air as it cooled my heated blood.

“I couldn’t let him get away, since the Peeping Tom had the gall to peep through my window.”

Dylan rolled to his feet, dusting the snow off his Levi’s. “Can’t you ever do things the normal way and let the police handle it? It’s okay to accept help, you know. To trust someone.”

“I tried that once. Didn’t work out so well.” Everyone believed I had deceived them and sullied the reputation of Cutesville, when the reality was I’d been the biggest sucker of all. I had trusted Bob, had cared enough about him to actually believe we had a future together. I’d known all those months he’d been going out of town on business, but I’d had no idea his business involved duping other desperate, lonely small-town women like myself.

He hadn’t cared about me at all, just cared about making me one of his many porn stars. Funny, it wasn’t even the porn aspect that bothered me so much. It was the fact that no man had ever loved me for just being me.

After that, I gave up on my hometown and on men. I refused to put my heart on the line again, only to have it abused. Men simply were not trustworthy. Dylan especially. He reminded me too much of Bob, only nicer, and I was afraid I was starting to care.

“I did call for help, I called you,” I said, desperately trying to divert my thoughts. Mission accomplished. Dylan’s blue laser beams sizzled into me, and I lost my train of thought completely. “But y-you took too long, and I, um... uh... What was the question?”

“Come on, Mac. We need to get you back to your apartment. I think the cold has frozen your tongue.” His gaze landed on my mouth.

Every ounce of my being wanted him to defrost me. Good Lord, how could he do that to me? He grinned. What was he, a mind reader now? His grin widened and he took my hand, pulling me behind him as he started across the street.

I dug my slipper-clad heels into the snow and tried not to slip. “I’m not leaving until you check this sicko out.”

“He’s probably long gone.”

I stared at him and crossed my arms over my bumps.

He sighed. “Come on.”

“You’re bringing me with you?” I narrowed my eyes. “And what about backup? Won’t your captain be mad about you not following protocol again?”

“You don’t miss a thing.” His smile looked stiff, but he flipped open his phone and punched in a number. “Detective Cabrizzi here. I’m gonna need backup.” He paused. “A Peeping Tom. Not sure if he’s armed and dangerous.” Glancing at the street sign, he read off the address, then clicked his phone closed. “They’re on their way. Let’s go.” He led the way to the door.

I followed, thinking, for a cop, he wasn’t acting too concerned that a bad guy could be inside, waiting to harm us. Not to mention, did he really have the right to go check out this guy? I mean, I only saw him looking into my window. I was beginning to think my hunch about Dylan having something to do with these crazy characters was right.

“Wait out here while I check the place out. I’m sure he’s gone with all the noise you made.”

My teeth began to chatter.

Dylan slipped off his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling the collar together. Staring into my eyes for a full minute, he finally released his hold on me and took a step back, rapping his knuckles on the door. “Open up. This is the police.”

No one answered. Big surprise there.

He looked at me. “Stay put.”

Who did he think he was? I opened my mouth, but his arched brow made me shut it and nod. He knew exactly who he was, and so did I. I watched him draw his gun from his shoulder holster and try the door. It opened, so he slipped inside.

If he wasn’t back in five, I was going in. I’d show him I could take care of myself. Shoot, maybe I’d even save his sorry neck while I was at it.