Nate doubted any criminal intent, but he had an uneasy feeling about her, anyway.
Whatever her reason for being in the building in the middle of the night, she was costing him sleep. Tiny waifs, with tales of woe, were always the ones who complicated his life, and the last thing he wanted was to make her troubles his.
He’d been down that road before and still had the emotional scars to prove it. “All right, tell me your story, but make it quick.”
She hitched in a deep breath and her breasts jerked upward with the movement, and unless he was mistaken, the suspect was braless underneath that green T-shirt that read Green Thumb has the Right Touch.
Holy cow!
He wished he wasn’t so impressed by her perky nipples, shapely legs, and cute, compact butt stuffed into skintight black jeans. He was too tired to have his objectivity tested like this.
To concentrate on what she was saying, Nate forced himself to look at the pink cowboy hat with her hair tucked up inside of it.
“You see, I lost my job yesterday morning, and that wouldn’t be so bad—but my boyfriend was the one who fired me. He said he thought I deserved a better paying job elsewhere and then we could still have a relationship. Can you believe that?”
Huh? Nate lifted his cowboy hat and scratched his head. He hadn’t asked for her entire life story.
“So,” she continued. “He gave me a check for two weeks’ severance pay. But I was so upset—I mean, you can understand why—and I left it on his desk. I wanted nothing from him, but then I accidentally dyed my hair blue, and it will cost a lot to have it professionally fixed and—”
“You dyed your hair blue?” He knew he’d regret it, but he lifted her cowboy hat off her head.
A mass of blue hair tumbled to her shoulders.
He couldn’t help laughing. How in the world had she accidentally dyed her hair blue?
“You see? You don’t even know me, and you’re making fun of it.”
“No, it just surprised me. What color is your hair normally?”
“One of those nondescript colors—dark blond, light brown, brond. It doesn’t matter. Now it’s electric blue.”
“Only in streaks. You can have it fixed.”
His fingers itched to separate the lush blue strands. Her hair looked strange, but it was also oddly cute. And he was out of his mind giving advice to a suspect with peacock blue hair. He urgently needed to wrap this up and get home for some much-needed shut-eye.
“Please, can I go now?” she asked in a vulnerable voice that charged up his protective male instincts.
“I can’t release you just because you dyed your hair blue.”
“But I wasn’t going to accept the severance check until I ruined my hair. How can I go to job interviews looking like a freak?”
“You could’ve waited until business hours.”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Here’s the deal. I never want to see that louse again, and I absolutely don’t want him seeing my hair. He’ll think I was trying to look like Courtney.”
Nate knew he was going to regret it, but he couldn’t help asking, “Courtney?”
“She’s his busty blond receptionist, and you can bet he didn’t downsize her. If he hadn’t spent so much time ogling her, I wouldn’t have tried to become a platinum blonde myself to see what it felt like to get that much male attention.”
Nate eyed her. “You’ve got enough going for you without resorting to hair dye.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and that lit him up inside, which was a dangerous thing. “But I dyed my hair and now, without the check, I can’t get this mess fixed.”
“Please, Ms. Ryan, it will be easy to verify your story. I’ll just call the owner—”
“Do you really have to?” She didn’t whine, but the misery in her voice made him uncomfortable.
“I’m afraid so.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. Now you’ll be even more suspicious, but Kevin won’t deny knowing me. He’s too dumb to believe I’m really finished with him.” She gave him Kevin’s name and phone number.
“Once I checked out your story, you can go.”
He didn’t like detaining her. He liked the idea of booking her even less. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in the number she’d given him, hoping one call would send her on her way.
Nate knew his weaknesses, and petite women with heart-shaped, elfin faces topped the list. He didn’t want to get involved with helping this one, not after Margo’s helpless ways had kept him tied up in knots for almost a year before he realized he was being used.
Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you.
After four rings, voicemail picked up. A man’s voice said, “I’m busy. You know the drill.”
The guy sounded like a jerk. Like someone Nate might throw into a holding cell with the usual Saturday night collection of drunkards.
“Got his voicemail,” he said.
“Please try again. Maybe he’ll wake up and answer.”
Three tries later, they both knew her ex-boyfriend would not answer.
“Look,” Nate said, “you have stolen nothing. I don’t see any damage. Even a public defender would plea-bargain this down to a simple trespass.”
“Are you going to arrest me for that?”
He was only thinking aloud, but she paled so much he was afraid she would pass right out. And irrationally, he felt guilty as hell. The helpless little fluff had that effect on him, but his instinct told him she was telling the truth in her own jumbled way. All he wanted to do was forget the entire thing.
“Here, sit down.” He kicked an office chair in her direction.
She lowered herself to the edge and hung her head in misery. “I’m so sorry.”
Aww, heck, he was feeling sorry for her now. “Hey, it’s not the end of the world.”
“You could let me go.” She said it matter-of-factly with emphasis on could.
“It’s a possibility, but we had a rash of burglaries in this part of town. Small businesses have lost expensive equipment. I can’t let you go until I verify your story. I have to take you in for questioning unless—”
“Try for Kevin again? Please. Or maybe someone else can vouch for me.”
“We’ll just ride downtown and—”
“No. I mean, isn’t there some other way?”
“Are you going to resist arrest?” He struggled not to grin.
“All you have to do is look on Kevin’s desk. He’s a slob. Even if he noticed that I left the check, he probably wouldn’t bother to move it. That would prove I’m telling the truth. Right?”
“I guess it would.” He was losing it. He wanted that check to be there almost as badly as she did. “Show me where you left it.”
She used the key to let him into an office decorated like the inside of a dumpster. She hadn’t exaggerated about the guy being a slob. His desk was a jumble of soda cans, loose papers, mail, and crumpled fast food bags.
“I was standing here.” She gestured, unintentionally calling attention to her braless state. “He slapped the check down—as if he were giving me a noble gift—then we had some words, and I ran out.”
He was the first to see it. A pale-green check with the Green Thumb logo. Picking it up, he read it and said, “It’s made out to Becky Ryan.”
“That’s me. Becky is short for Rebecca. I told you, remember?”
“I have to believe you now.” He grinned, unable to believe how relieved he felt. Now there was no reason for him to hang around, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone in the deserted building.
“Can I…?” She gave him such a pleading look that he felt it all the way to his groin.
Not good.
“Leave?” he asked. “Yes.”
And the sooner the better.
“Now, can I take my check?”
He couldn’t be that liberal. He was already cutting her too much slack. “We better leave things as they are. You can come back at a more conventional time. Or call and asked him to mail it to you.”
“Okay.” She sounded disappointed, but not defiant.
“Hey, the blue streaks aren’t as bad as you think. They match your eyes.”
“My eyes are hazel. Blue matches your eyes.”
He felt oddly flattered that she had noticed his eye color, and then he was annoyed with himself for being flattered.
“Is there anything out of place here?” he asked.
She nodded.
He helped her straighten up the place, first replacing the office key, then the box she’d stood on, and finally the chair he’d moved for her to sit in.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
She locked the rear door behind them and gestured at the vehicle parked halfway down the alley.
“I’ll walk you.”
“You really don’t need to do that.”
“I do.” His tone brooked no argument.
His cowboy boots crunched on the gravel, but she walked with soft, almost soundless footfalls in her ballet flats. They’d nearly reached her car when a fierce growl startled him.
“Dobermans in the junkyard.” She laughed nervously. “Thank heavens they’re on the other side of a sturdy fence.”
Becky enjoyed walking beside this tall broad deputy a little too much for her peace of mind. The last thing she wanted was to rebound from Kevin into the well-muscled arms of the law.
After he’d seen her safely to her car, she watched Nathaniel—dangerous sign, already thinking of him by his first name—sprint to where he parked his patrol car.
If Kevin had disposed of that check, she would probably be on her way to the sheriff’s department right now. She was breaking more laws tonight than she had in her entire life. She’d been lucky to get away before the deputy changed his mind and ran her in.
Cards on the table? Deputy Dalton was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He had eyes like crystal-blue pools and powerful masculine features–offset by brilliant white teeth and dark-brown hair cut short.
She liked his straight, prominent nose, high cheekbones, and square chin. He moved with an uncommon grace for such a tall man, and she’d swear he had zero body fat except maybe on his nicely rounded backside.
“Forget it. He’s too big.” She turned the key in the ignition, but the engine didn’t catch.
He was at least six foot two, and dancing with him would make her feel like a hobbit. The last thing she needed was another big, strong he-man to erode her self-confidence. Her parents called her the runt of the litter, their little preemie baby who always commanded an extra bit of care and attention.
But she was fully grown now and not looking for a superhero to spread his cape over her and make her troubles disappear. She’d moved off the farm and into town to stand on her own two feet. The last thing she needed in her life was some hot deputy.
“Don’t listen to your hormones.” She was getting worried now because all the starter did was click.
Becky gave the starter a minute to rest, hoping it would do its thing and get her out of here. She took off her cowgirl hat and fluffed the blue strands. Maybe she’d overdosed on dye fumes when she’d colored hair.
She tried the engine again, getting an awful feeling about the car when it wouldn’t turn over. At least she wasn’t stranded alone in the middle of the night in this none-too-savory neighborhood.
Deputy Dalton pulled his car close enough to hear the grinding of her starter. He lowered his window. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride. You can have your car towed in the morning.”
Becky hated having to accept his offer. All she wanted was to go home and sleep for a year or at least until her blue hair grew out. Now she had an additional problem. Her car. From the sound of it, the repairs would put a big dent in her credit card.
Her pride wouldn’t let her borrow money from her father. He’d loan it willingly, but not without putting more pressure on her to return home.
The deputy had gotten out of his car and was holding open the front passenger door for her, assuming she’d just hop right in.
“I’ll call a ride,” she said.
“No need,” he said, “when I can drive you home.”
It sounded more like an order than an invitation. She bristled but got into his car.
He got behind the wheel, making the interior feel as crowded as a space capsule. His shoulders were as wide as the driver's seat, and his knees were spread so that one brushed hers.
“I have one stop to make,” he said. “A storage unit on Highway 10. That’s why I’m on this side of town in the first place.”
She knew the place he was talking about. If her finances got any worse, she might have to rent in that area.
“I’ll be just a minute,” Nate said a short time later, pulling up to a row of storage units. “I have to take a box back to my motel.”
He lived in a motel? It was none of her business, but she was curious. However, she wouldn’t even ask.
True to his word, he quickly found what he wanted and dumped it into his patrol vehicle and got back behind the wheel.
Okay, she had to ask. Curiosity got the better of her every time. “You live in a motel?”
“Temporary.”
He wasn’t forthcoming, which only piqued her interest more. “Did you lose your home?”
“I just moved to Falling Star. I’ve only been here a month.”
“Where you from?”
“Fort Worth.”
“And you haven’t found an apartment yet?”
“No time to look. Been working my butt off since I got here. The sheriff’s department is woefully short-staffed, and I hit the ground running.”
He said nothing else on the route across town.
“Nice house,” he said when he pulled to a stop in front of the charming late Victorian house that had been converted into a four-unit apartment building.
“Maybe I shouldn’t mention this,” she said, ignoring the warning voice booming inside her head. “My landlady is really picky about her tenants, but one of the rooms here is vacant. It is actually the nicest apartment—ground floor, high ceilings, hardwood floors. I was tempted to move downstairs myself, but it cost one hundred and fifty dollars a month more than mine.”
“Hmm. I might think about it.”
Immediately, she was sorry she’d mentioned the apartment. She didn’t want him for a neighbor. “Come to think of it, you probably wouldn’t like it here. It’s a creaky old house and there never seems to be enough hot water.”
“Would you mind giving me your landlady’s number? It’s probably not what I’m looking for, but I am tired of motel living, not to mention becoming the butt of the homeless jokes at work.”
She gave him the number, watching while he scrawled it in a little notebook. Then she thanked him for the ride and hurried up to the house.
He didn’t drive away.
She found the key under the doormat and gave him a halfhearted wave, but still he didn’t budge.
Feeling as if she’d lost a game of chicken, she unlocked the door and ducked inside.
Well, that was a night to remember.