Page 96 of Cowboy Heat

That maybe-rosiness is not such a maybe anymore.

Kissy’s cheeks are the perfect shade of stop sign.

It probably isn’t helping that somewhere along the line, her hand has found its way to trailing along my side, right above my cut.

I shiver at the contact.

It seems to shake her.

She clears her throat and starts opening the first aid kit.

“The last time I helped someone take their shirt off in the back of my Jeep was when a six-year-old Micah was having a mild panic attack about a hitchhiking jumping spider.” She pulls out the disinfectant wipe. “It was only a stroke of luck that I was basically inching along the road already. Scared the bajesus out of us both. We’re lucky I didn’t ditch dive like I did the other day.”

The wipe is cool to my skin.

Kissy’s not making eye contact.

She’s so close to me, though, that I can feel her without direct contact.

Maybe I do need some rest.

We’ve just landed in the middle of a murder investigation where we might have been a target and now we might be suspects. That’s assuming we’re even tracking this thing correctly. There’s a disconnect behind it all that bothers me.

A missing man? Fine.

A woman attacked to help find the missing man? Okay.

A grave that drew the attention of a man tied to the sheriff as well as his friend? The same grave that had the former parish coroner in it?

I don’t know what to do with those facts.

Is Guidry truly connected, or are we looking at two different instances?

Either way it allfeelsdramatic.

It makes me fall back into my thoughts until Kissy is done. As instructed by Doc Lawson, she takes a picture then sends it.

She places the phone next to me on the Jeep, screen up.

Then she places her hand beneath my wound on my ribcage.

She sighs out long.

“Do you know that since Alice Dean was shot, I haven’t had one client set up a showing? That’s not that uncommon in just a week, but aside from a panicked and tired call from Margaret, I also haven’t heard a word from the other real estate agent we work with?” Kissy laughs. It’s not heartfelt. “It’s not like I reached out to anyone other than to say that I would be out of office for a few days, but still. No one from church or friends outside of June? No nosy acquaintances who were blowing up my phone the second you came to town? No one in this town has uttered a word to me since Alice was shot and Guidry went missing. And I know why they went quiet. It’s my association with Guidry. When trouble finds me, Guidry has made it his job to take care of it for me, and now it seems that’s what everyone believes too. The whole person who is Kissy Lawson gets compartmentalized the second there’s trouble because it’s just not worth getting into it for others.”

She looks into my eyes now, but her hand is still against me.

“But then you just…” She shakes her head and seems to reorganize her thoughts. “I keep wanting to apologize to you for getting mixed up in this, for helping me. For being there. But, well, the truth is…It’s nice. To have someone here with me. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s true.”

She starts to drop her hand, moving as she’s giving a small shrug, like her feelings are just as small.

But I don’t think so.

I catch her hand and flatten it back against me, but this time at a level that’s more comfortable. Her palm is pressed between mine and my chest. Near my heart but not over it. I just want her to feel my words, to understand that I mean them.

“I know what it feels like to be left behind,” I say. “To be avoided. I even know what it feels like to be the one who leaves. It’s hard in different ways, in painful ways. Some I can talk about, some I won’t. But staying by you, Kissy?”

I smile.