Page 270 of Duty and Desire

And Tabitha smiled, danger in the twitch of her lips. “Why, Detective. How fucking nice to see you,” she murmured.

CHAPTER 11

Warmth slid through Abby as if a heated rolling pin moved just beneath her skin the second Noah spoke. That voice. Low and gritty and hoarse. And the night before, her name had been all he’d said. Hearing it now, even though he was giving orders, unleashed a sense inside her of belonging.

After a one night stand.

Yeah, she was a complete and utter dork. Just like one of those silly high school girls all giggly over the hot rebel boy who’d given her a nod in the hallway. Okay. She had been that girl at one time, and she’d enjoyed those days. Now she was all grown up and needed to act like it, damn it.

“Abby?” Noah partially leaned down to see her beyond Tabitha. “We need to talk.”

Oh, crap. For the brushoff? Wait a minute. Nobody went looking for somebody to give the brushoff. If Noah didn’t want to see her again, he sure the heck wouldn’t be standing in the middle of the road. “Okay.” She looked at Tabitha. “How about I go take a shower, and we meet up later today for my first day of work?” She really needed this job, but a shower was imperative at this moment. Her hair felt like a disaster.

The detective stood next to Noah, his gaze shrewd. “I’d like to know what you two ladies are doing casing the bank.”

Well, that’s what they’d been doing, apparently. Abby licked her lips. Tabi didn’t really want to rob a bank, did she? The woman had to have been kidding. “We’re not casing anything,” she said, sliding from the car and standing, stretching her back slightly.

A police car stopped in the middle of the road between the detective’s car and Noah’s. The sheriff stepped out and hitched his belt up over his beer belly. “Why the hell is there a truck parked in the middle of the street?” he snapped.

A lump formed in Abby’s throat. Crap. The guy hated her.

The sheriff’s gaze caught hers. “You’re under probation, Mrs. Loften. Do we have a problem here?”

Noah started to move for the man just as the detective cut him off. “My fault, Sheriff,” O’Connell said easily. “I asked Mr. Siosal to stop for a second, and I wasn’t clear with directions. He’s just about to move the truck ahead and park.”

“Actually,” Noah drawled, striding around the front of the car and taking Abby’s hand in his, “I was just going to take my girlfriend to breakfast. And her name is Miss Miller, not Mrs. Loften, Sheriff.” He paused and looked down at her. “Or do you prefer Ms.?”

Abby stumbled. “I, ah, Miss is fine.” Noah felt solid and strong next to her. Had he just said girlfriend? Was it to piss the sheriff off, or did he mean it? They hadn’t discussed dating. Maybe that was why he wanted to talk. The temptation to let him take over was almost too much to resist, but she was done hiding and done being terrified. Yeah, being wanted by a guy like him might’ve given her some of her newfound pride, but she’d been heading that direction anyway. Anger did that to a gal. So she removed her hand from Noah’s and stepped in front of him to face the sheriff. “I’m finished with you trying to intimidate me.”

The sheriff’s eyebrows went up, and his chin down. “Excuse me?”

She put her hands on her hips. “My ex is an asshole, and you know it. And even though he’s your childhood buddy, you can’t use the law to hurt people. Not anymore.”

“Really. You’re a criminal on probation. Exactly what do you plan to do?” the sheriff spat, his bulbous nose twitching.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’ll call everyone with a phone. FBI, CIA, Attorney General. I’m done with this nonsense.” Her stomach cramped and her head ached, but she faced him squarely.

Noah leaned down, his mouth near her ear. “You done making a stand? I’m starving.”

She shivered from his warm breath and then rolled out a laugh, feeling lighter than she had in years. “I could eat, after I head home for a quick shower.” Then she took his hand as if she had every right to do so and tugged him toward the street. “You’re blocking traffic.” Well, if there was any traffic. Some might be coming. “Breakfast is on you.” She pointedly ignored the sheriff as Noah opened her door and she climbed up.

Noah slid into the truck and sped off, veering just close enough to the sheriff to make the guy jump back. “We have a lot to talk about.”

She rubbed her neck. “You bit me.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as they drove between quaint looking businesses and out of the main area of town. “Yeah. That’s one of the things we need to discuss.” He glanced her way, his black eyes serious. “But first, I want the entire story of your marriage, the sheriff, and why it felt like you just drew a line in the sand.”

Yeah, if they were going to date, he deserved the entire story. Plus, she found herself wanting to share with him. He was a niceman and she could trust him. It wasn’t like he’d hidden anything from her, which was a lovely change. The guy was an open book.

“Well, it started with a car wreck when I hit a cow,” she began, settling into the warm seat.

* * * *

Abby finished swiping on lip-gloss after a warm shower, her tattered terrycloth robe wrapped around her. She’d been a little embarrassed to bring Noah into her crappy apartment, but he’d headed right for the kitchen and found a yogurt to eat. He still wanted to talk, and it was his turn. She felt so much better after having shared her story. Sometimes she felt stupid or weak for staying with Monte, but Noah seemed to understand.

She moved into her bedroom and threw on a green sweater that brought out that color in her eyes. Then she grabbed jeans and paused. Her hip was still burning. Looking down, she stilled. What the hell? Leaning over, she looked closer. Her hip and part of her butt showed a tattoo of an S surrounded by rough knots and lines. A brand?

Stumbling against her dresser, she tried to grab ahold of reality. What? How? It had happened in the shower. She remembered her hip hurting during sex. But what the holy hell of holy hells? She began stomping toward the door when male voices caught her attention.