Wyoming Cowboy Ranger. Nicole HelmЧитать онлайн книгу.
could face. He’d seen a lot worse. This was fine. And good. Right for him. Alone suited—
“Ty.”
There was something his gut did when she said his name. No matter the years, he couldn’t seem to control that intrinsic physical reaction to his name forming on her lips. A softening. A longing.
He took a minute to brace himself before he turned around. Jen stood on the porch of Grady and Laurel’s cabin. She looked like cotton candy in some lacy, frothy pink thing.
And all too viscerally he could remember what she looked like completely unclothed. No matter that he assured himself time changed things—bodies, minds, hearts. It was hard to remember as she approached him with a face that wasn’t shooting daggers at him for the first time since he’d arrived home.
“Listen.” She looked back at the open door, then took a few more steps toward him on the walk. “I wanted to let you know I had a stranger come in the store last night.”
“What?” he demanded, fury easily taking over the ache inside him. Last night? “Why didn’t you call me? I told you—”
She lifted her chin, her eyes cold as ice. “You told me to let you know. Here I am, letting you know. I don’t think he’s whatever you’re looking for. He was perfectly nice. He just asked to take pictures of the store, and then he—”
“What time did he come in?”
“Well, seven but—”
“He was going to take pictures when it was pitch-black?”
She frowned at that, a line forming between her brows that once upon a time he’d loved tracing with his thumb. Where had that memory come from?
“He was hungry. He fainted. He was out of it. Confused maybe. And totally polite and harmless.”
“Damn it, Jen. I told you to call me. I could have—”
“He didn’t do anything. I know you’re paranoid, but—”
“I am not paranoid. You think a man who gets a letter with no postage delivered to where he lives and works is paranoid?”
She tilted her head, studying him, and he realized with a start he’d said too much.
He never said too much.
“What was in the letter?” she asked, her voice calm and her eyes on him.
It was hell, this. Still wanting her. Missing that old tiny slice of his life where she’d been his. He didn’t want this, but he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. It ate at him, had him dreaming about doing things he couldn’t possibly allow himself to do. Every once in a while he’d think...what would just one touch do?
But he knew the answer to that.
She audibly swallowed and looked away, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She felt it, too, and yet...
“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, trying to find his usual center of calm. His normal, everyday clear-eyed view of the world and of this problem he had. “What did he look like? Better yet—I want to see your security tape.”
Her eyes flashed anger and frustration. “You are not looking at my security tape.”
“Why not?”
“It’s an invasion of my customers’ privacy.”
He snorted. “I don’t care that Mary Lynn Jones bought a pack of Marlboros even though her husband thinks she quit or that little Adam Teller was buying condoms because he talked his way into Lizzie Granger’s pants.”
Jen’s mouth twitched, but then she firmed it into a scowl. “How do you know all that?”
“I pay attention, babe.”
Her scowl deepened and she folded her arms across her chest. “Blond hair, blue eyes. About the same height as Cam. I’m not sure what that’d be in feet and inches, but I imagine you would. Skinny, but strong, like a marathon runner. He wore hiking clothes and boots, all in tan, and a big, fancy camera around his neck. Topped it off with a Stetson. Said he was taking pictures of ghost towns and happened upon Bent.”
It was more to go on than he thought he’d get out of her, but still not enough to ring any bells. “Tattoos? Scars? Something off about him?”
She shook her head. “Not that I could see.”
“I want the tape, Jen. If someone is...” He didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t trust her to keep it a secret and let him handle it, but he needed to see the man himself. Needed to identify him so he could neutralize this threat. “I’m getting letters. They’re not threatening exactly, but they’re not...not. I know you don’t care about me, but your family is all tangled up with mine now.” He gestured at the whole irritating lot of them. “Don’t you want to protect what’s yours?”
“Of course I do.”
That sharp chin of hers came up, defiant and angry. Her temper used to amuse him. Now it just made that ache center in his heart.
But that wasn’t the problem at hand. “Then let me see the tape. If I recognize him, I’ll know what to do. If I don’t, then maybe you’re right and it’s harmless coincidence.” He didn’t believe that, but he’d let her think he did.
She was quiet and stiff for humming seconds, then finally she sighed. “Oh, fine. I suppose you want to go now?”
He only raised an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes. “Let me get my purse and say my goodbyes.” She stalked back inside, grumbling about irritating, stubborn males the whole way up.
All Ty could do was pray he’d recognize whoever was on that tape and everything would be over.
* * *
JEN STEPPED OUT of her tiny little sedan, dressed all in pink, her dark hair in pretty waves around her shoulders.
Sweet. Just like Ty had said. She’d been wary of him last night when he’d first walked into the store. He’d seen it in her eyes, but the feigned hunger and stumble had softened her. She’d given him food and water. Good-hearted, she was indeed.
He smiled, watching as Jen stood there in front of her store. When a motorcycle roared into view, his smile died.
Even before the man took off his helmet, he knew who it was. He watched Jen. She didn’t seem happy to see Ty, but nor did she seem surprised or unhappy.
He scowled, watching as Ty strode over to Jen. They exchanged a few words and then Jen unlocked the store and stepped inside, Ty right behind her.
She didn’t flip the sign from Closed to Open.
He narrowed his eyes. The rage that slammed into him was sudden and violent, but he’d learned a thing or two about how to handle it. Hone it.
Ty would get his. He would.
So, patience would be the name of the game. And another letter.
This time in blood.
Jen set her purse down on her desk in the back room of the store and tried not to sigh. Why was she getting involved in this?
Don’t you want to protect what’s yours?
It grated all over again. That he could even ask her that. She would have protected him, sacrificed for him, and he’d left her alone and confused and so brokenhearted she’d...
She booted up her computer, stabbing at the buttons in irritation. She’d eradicate the past if she could, but since she couldn’t she had to find a better