Leeann flinched, the sting of his words evident on her face.
But he didn’t stop pushing, since she had no issue shoving him. “What? No answer? At least tell me where all this is coming from. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. I’m home for one day and now you’re trying to psychoanalyze me?”
“No, but—”
“But what? You’re pulling out some psychological mumbo jumbo you learned at the police academy?” he continued, unable to stop the words from rolling off his tongue. “Maybe you need to take a look at yourself, considering you’ve walked away from yet another job today.”
“How did—who told you?”
“Gage mentioned that tonight’s ladies-only party was your farewell from the sheriff’s department and how sorry he was to see you go. Boy, you’re throwing away careers left and right. A few years in New York, a few years back here. Where to next?”
She put her drink down hard, the glass almost tipping over before she caught it and set it upright. “Well, as much fun as this has been, I think it’s best if I leave now.” Leeann slid out of the booth. “Tell everyone I said good-night.”
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Bobby had dragged Zip to the Blue Creek Saloon tonight to try to get Leeann out of his head, especially after seeing her earlier today at the Youth Center.
Yeah, he’d stopped by on purpose during a trip into town to show Zip downtown Destiny. The hero worshipping from the kids had been nice, but when Leeann had stepped out of an office to see what all the commotion was about, arms crossed and a fire in her eyes, he’d finished writing out a check to cover a group ski trip and hightailed it out of there.
Running into his old friend Justin Dillon when he’d arrived here had been great. Gage Steele had been standing there, too, and he’d made introductions for Zip, both of them meeting the other Cartwright brother, Landon. Then they’d heard the squealing and clapping from a distant table as Landon shared his impending fatherhood news.
He’d found his stare focused on the ladies, and even when Leeann spotted him, he hadn’t turned away. After that, it didn’t take long to convince the men to cross the bar. It felt like old times, standing directly behind where Leeann sat in the booth, back when they’d been young and in love—
Leeann rose and Bobby forced himself to his feet. Ignoring the burst of pain that started at his hip and raced southward to his knee, Bobby forced himself to his feet, cutting off her exit. “Wait, Lee, please. Don’t go.”
She stilled, but didn’t look at him. She also didn’t back away. A small victory. He’d take it.
“I’m sorry,” he continued, “after all these years you’d think we could find something better to say to each other…”
Yanking off his Stetson, he dragged his fingers through his hair before slapping it back on his head. “Damned if I know what it is about you that still ignites a fire in my blood.”
Her gaze flew to his, but she remained silent.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I can prove to you I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Bobby. You’re right. We’re just old…friends who haven’t seen or spoken to each other in over a decade and suddenly we’re taking stabs at each other. It doesn’t make any sense.”
He grinned. “When did our…friendship ever make sense? Besides, this won’t include any talking.”
Curiosity crossed her features. “You’re not planning to do something stupid, are you?”
He hoped not. “Dance with me.”
“What?” Her eyes grew wide. “Are you crazy?”
Probably, but he didn’t care. His fingers still hummed from her brief touch earlier, and despite recognizing this new habit of hers of maintaining a well-defined personal space, he found himself wanting to invade that space. Wanting to wrap her in his arms and feel the press of her soft curves against him.
If that meant slogging through the shooting pain in his back and legs, so be it.
“We used to be pretty good at two-stepping if I remember correctly.” He inched closer. “Unless you don’t think you can keep up with me?”
An emotion flashed through her eyes so fast he wasn’t sure he’d actually seen it, much less be able to describe it.
“Lee? What’s wrong?”
She blinked and it was gone. Squaring her shoulders, her chin jutted out in that familiar stubborn way. “Nothing. Let’s do it.”
At first he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right, but when she headed for the dance floor, Bobby fell into step beside her, thankful his legs obeyed his silent command to move.
He placed his hand at her lower back, his fingertips brushing the soft cotton material of her T-shirt as they made their way through the crowd.
She flinched at his touch, but then they were at the edge of the well-worn parquet floor as a rocking hillbilly tune gave way to a classic George Strait ballad. She spun to face him. This time he was certain he saw a flare of panic in her eyes.
At what? Being in his arms again?
She started to shake her head. Before she could put her protest into words, he snaked one hand around her waist, clasped her hand in his and made his way among the growing number of couples on the dance floor. She let him lead, but barely. Her free hand only just touched his shoulder, her arms unyielding, back rigid.
He looked down. Her gaze was locked on the open collar of his shirt, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth.
“Hey, if you’re worried about people gossiping, no one’s watching,” he whispered into her hair above her ear. “It’s just you and me.”
He rubbed his thumb along her waist, trying to get her to relax, but the act seemed to make her even more tense. Damn, she was strung tight, moving across the dance floor like a puppet with an unseen power pulling at her strings.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Thanks to too much time on his feet his legs were on the edge of collapse, and obviously dancing with him was the last place she wanted to be.
What a joke.
He opened his mouth to tell her they should end this, when someone jostled her from behind. She landed hard against his chest and he grabbed her hips with both hands, bringing their bodies flush from the waist to the knees. He willed his already weak legs to hold him upright as he tightened his grip and spun in a quick half step in order to keep them from landing in a heap on the ground.
A small cry escaped her lips, her hands fisting his shirt as she clutched his shoulders.
“It’s okay, Lee. I’ve got you.”
She mumbled something so low he had to dip his head closer.
“Please…don’t…”
The soft plea went straight to his gut.
He instantly eased his hold, but then his boot heel caught on the edge of the dance floor. He strained to keep them upright as a white-hot flash of pain raced down both legs, knifing through bone, muscle and memory to steal his breath.
Clenching his jaw, he battled against the blinding pulsation. “Damn! Not now!” His words hissed between his teeth.
Lee’s head jerked up and her grip tightened. “Bobby? What is it?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He willed his legs not to give out on him.
“What can I do?” Her hands, suddenly strong and sure, moved to his back as she shifted her hips, trying to take on his weight. “Here, lean on me.”
“No.” He gutted out the words. “I’m…okay.”
“Like hell you are. You need my help!”
Yeah, he did and he hated himself for it. “Get…get us off the dance floor.”
Her head wrenched back and forth, the short strands of her hair whipping across his throat and jaw. “I don’t see a place to sit.”
He gestured with his head toward an area next to the stage. “Over there. The wall.”
It was empty but dark. He hoped there was nothing on the ground to trip them up. He wrapped one arm around Leeann’s shoulders, and she held him around his waist, plastering herself to his side as they took several shaky steps together.
It seemed to take forever, but finally they were close enough for him to brace one arm straight against the rough wood paneling, taking some of the weight off his legs. It wasn’t enough. He pivoted Lee around to face him, then released her to use both arms to support himself, effectively blocking her between his body and the wall.
Much better.
The pain lessened and he was able to pull in a deep fortifying breath, bringing with it Leeann’s fresh, clean scent that held a hint of earthy spice. A scent that had teased his memory long after she’d walked out of his house earlier today, only to wrap around him again when he’d leaned over the booth, using the first excuse he could think of to get close to her.
He lowered his head, gently bumping her forehead with the brim of his hat. “Man, you smell good.”
Her hands fell from his waist and she tried to back away but the wall was right there. Tilting her head, she looked up at him, but it was too dark to see her face.
Her breaths, quick and hot, scorched his skin and he flexed his fingers, pressing them hard into the wall.
“Do you want me get some help?” she whispered, the earlier panic returning to her voice. “I can go find Dean.”
“Stay.” His request sounded like a demand. He cleared his throat and tried for a lighter tone. “This way it looks like I dragged you off the dance floor for some private time. Or maybe you dragged me.”
“Bobby—”
“Don’t worry, Lee. I’m not thinking about anything at the moment except trying not to fall on my ass and make a complete fool of myself.”
That was a lie, but she didn’t have to know that.
“Do you feel better?”
He must, because his lower half was starting to respond to the intimacy of their position, tightening with need for the warm, sexy woman only inches away. “Yeah, I think so. Just don’t ask me to move.”
“W-we can’t stay here all night.”
As long as she stood here with him, no farther away than a deep breath to bring their bodies together, he was fine. He doubted Leeann felt the same way, even if she did seem a bit more relaxed now that they were off the dance floor.
Was that because he wasn’t actually touching her?
“Sorry about my lack of finesse out there.”
“You had to prove a point, huh?”
“I’m not talking about my injuries. Before…you acted— I don’t know…uncomfortable while we were dancing. Don’t tell me the single guys in this town haven’t been keeping you busy on the dance floor.”
“No guy, um, what I mean is I don’t have a…” Her gaze centered on his chest again, her voice so low he barely heard her. “I don’t date. It’s been a while since I’ve been out…dancing or anything else.”
Was that a good thing?
Bobby had been surprised he hadn’t seen a wedding ring on her finger. He’d always figured Leeann left her modeling career in order to settle down, probably with a rich businessman who reminded her of her father. To find her living here in their hometown, no boyfriend, and as of today, no job…
Something wasn’t adding up.
But none of that mattered right now.
What mattered was that she was right here in front of him.
He dragged one hand down the paneling, inches away from Leeann’s sweet curves. He wanted so much to touch her, to press up against her, to make her look up at him again so he could cover her mouth with his.
“Lee—”
He shifted the hand still pressed to the wall to get better support. Big mistake. His knees buckled. Leeann grabbed him, and while the heat of her touch did wonders for his libido, it wasn’t going to keep them from falling flat on their faces.
“Lee, let go.” The last thing he wanted was to take her down with him.
Then the familiar strength of Zip’s muscular arm slid across Bobby’s shoulder blades. “Hey, buddy! What ya doing over here? Making time with the prettiest lady in the place?”
Leeann jerked her hands back.
Bobby silently mourned the loss.
He tried to smile through the pain, thankful his friend was making it appear that they were just two guys talking smack over a girl, instead of making Bobby look like a cripple who needed his human cane. “You know me, spending time making time.”
“Yeah, well, I may just have to arm wrestle you for this one.” Zip’s free hand rose and took on a familiar pose they used often during his therapy sessions. Elbow bent and flat, open palm. A high five with staying power. Bobby let go of the wall to latch on to it. “She’s something special.”
“Wait, it’s not like that,” Leeann protested. “We’re not—I mean, he’s not—”
“It’s okay, darling.” Zip lowered his voice and offered her a wink. “I know what’s going on.”
“Oh, lay off the charm, will ya, Zip?” Bobby groaned. “I’m hurting like a sonovabitch and you’re flirting?”
“Come on, Ace. Let’s take this outside.” Zip looked around and then back at Leeann. “What’s the fastest way out of here?”
“Through the back entrance, just past the kitchen.” Leeann eased away from the wall. “I’ll show you.”
“Perfect. I parked out back.” Zip glanced at Bobby. “You okay to walk or do I have pull the fireman on ya?”
There was no freaking way he’d be carted out of here on his buddy’s oversize shoulders. “I can make it.”
“No numbness in your lower legs?”
“Hell, no, I can feel everything.” Bobby faced Leeann. The last thing he wanted was for her to witness any more of this fiasco. “Well, thanks for the dance and the interesting conversation. Why don’t you head back to your friends?”
Leeann crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll never get past the kitchen staff, never mind the alarm at the back door, without me.”
Zip let loose a subdued whistle. “Beautiful and smart. This one’s a keeper.”
Bobby pushed off from the wall and yanked his Stetson low over his brow. “Shut up and walk, Zip.”
“Ladies first.”
Leeann moved in front of them and they followed. From the back it looked like one friend helping out another who’d had a few too many beers. Except each step was like walking on hot coals. Something Bobby had actually done once at a party at the Playboy Mansion. Only this time every step was like a volcanic fire eating at the bottoms of his boot-clad feet.
They entered the back hall where the lighting was brighter, and Bobby fixed his gaze on Leeann. He liked how her hair shined in the overhead lights. The short dark lengths barely brushed against her shoulders. Her T-shirt clung to her tiny waist and emphasized the curve of her hips encased in the skinny jeans she wore.
Leeann had always had the most amazing backside. If anything it had gotten better with age.
Appreciation filled him and he kept his eyes glued to her butt, the sight of those swaying hips making him forget about the pain.
Sort of.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm…”
Bobby tightened his grip on his friend’s hand. “Not one word, Zip.”
“Okay, boss man, whatever you say.”
Leeann stood in front of the double swinging doors that led to the kitchen and waved them past. When they reached the back entrance, she punched in a code and pushed open the heavy metal door.
“Jeez, I guess being a cop comes in handy when needing a security password, huh?” Zip asked as they stepped outside into the parking lot.
Bobby’s gaze crashed with Leeann’s, and he saw a quiet resignation there before she looked away.
“Which car is yours?” she asked.
“We came in the blue pickup over there.” Zip nodded to the left, reaching into his pocket and tossing Leeann the keys. “I wanted to bring the bird, but Ace here axed that idea.”
Leeann hit the button to unlock the doors. “Bird?”
“Forget it.” Bobby shot Zip a warning look. “It’s not important.”
When they reached the truck, Bobby waited until Leeann opened the door, then he grabbed the truck’s inside frame and held on. “I’ve got it from here.”
“You sure, Ace?” Zip asked.
“Yeah.” His gaze flew to Leeann, who stood nearby, then back to his buddy. “Get behind the wheel, okay?”
Zip smiled and gestured to Leeann for the keys, easily catching them before heading for the other side of the truck. “Night, Leeann,” he called out. “And thanks, I couldn’t have gotten Twinkle Toes out of there without your help.”
She returned Zip’s wave, but her eyes remained on Bobby. Was she waiting to see how he got into the truck?
Fine.
Flinging his Stetson inside the cab, Bobby grabbed on to the inside assist handle and hoisted himself, twisting onto the front seat. The move hurt like hell and left him looking like a fool with his feet still hanging outside the truck, but at least he was sitting down.
Lacing his fingers beneath his left knee, he grunted through the pain and lifted his leg, dragging his foot inside the cab to save the additional strain on his back.
Then a strong yet feminine grip repeated the movement, lifting his right leg, supporting the knee before setting his foot gently to the truck’s floor.
Bobby froze.
He stared at her hands, resting just above his knee. The warmth of her touch seeped through his jeans. His fingers stretched out for hers, but she jerked her hands away, clenching them together at her waist.
“Ah, I’m sorry…” Leeann waved one hand toward the building. “You know, about the dance.”
“I’m not.”
Her gaze shot to his.
“I enjoyed holding you in my arms again,” he said. “Sort of like coming home.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in surprise.
“Let’s do it again,” he ventured, having no idea why he was pushing this. Yes, he did. It had felt good, damn good, to be so close to Leeann again. “Soon?”
Her lips moved into an easy smile. “Bobby, you can’t even stand on your own two feet.”
“At the moment, but when I’m better?”
“We’ll see.”
Zip barked out a laugh he tried to cover with a cough.
Bobby landed a light elbow to his friend’s bicep, but didn’t look away from Leeann. “You know when my mom used to say that, the answer was usually no.”
“But every once in a while the answer was yes.”
She stepped away from the truck, closed the door and offered a quick wave before turning back toward the rear entrance of the bar.
Zip started the engine and flipped on the headlights, but didn’t put the truck into gear until they saw Leeann disappear inside the building. “Man, tell me you’re not going to do something stupid.”
Bobby turned to his friend. “Like what?”
“Like let her go all over again.”
Almost a week after the Blue Creek Saloon incident, Leeann could still feel Bobby’s rough, warm touch on her hands. She clenched and released her fingers a few times, shaking them loose as she ran, her feet eating up miles of blacktop.
“Don’t be silly, it’s just—”
She couldn’t finish her sentence because she didn’t understand why her palms still tingled, as if she’d just laid her hands on him a moment ago.
Impossible because she’d avoided him for the past six days.
She’d cleaned her two-bedroom cottage from top to bottom, visited with her Aunt Ursula to sort out the beauty parlor gossip from the truth when it came to her and Bobby, and took care of his mother’s garden in record time at the crack of dawn two mornings in a row to avoid an accidental encounter.
Worst of all, she’d only gone to the Youth Center after checking to make sure he wasn’t there. Bad, but a necessity. The staff had said Bobby and Dean had stopped by twice during the week to visit with the kids in the after-school program.
Maggie and Racy had finally wrangled her into going to Laramie yesterday afternoon for lunch and shopping, but only after they’d sworn off the topic of Bobby Winslow.
After she’d gone back inside the bar that night, they’d cornered her for an explanation. She’d quickly explained away the rumor that Bobby was drunk, replacing it with the truth of what had happened when they’d danced.
Or tried to dance.
Between her acting like a cardboard cutout and his bad back they were lucky they didn’t end up sprawled in the middle of the dance floor. Then again, the only thing her friends concentrated on was that she’d agreed to dance with her old boyfriend in the first place.
And every morning she ran.
Come rain or shine, Leeann donned her exercise gear, tied on her sneakers and headed out for her daily five miles.
Never in the direction of her pond or Bobby’s house.
Of course, if she really thought about it, Bobby hadn’t tried to see her either.
Was he still embarrassed by what had happened?
So caught up in the emotional upheaval of being near him again, she’d spent the evening lecturing him one minute and fighting off old memories, both good and bad, the next.
When it came to dealing with being held in a man’s arms—his arms—for the first time in years, she’d been so consumed by panic she hadn’t given any thought to his discomfort.
She’d been uncomfortable enough for the both of them. Or so she thought until he had her backed against the wall. He had been seconds away from kissing—
“Ah, miss? Excuse me?”
A male voice interrupted Leeann’s thoughts. She down-shifted into an easy jog, noticing for the first time the silver SUV and white van behind it, moving at a snail’s pace along the road.
“We’re a bit lost. Maybe you can help?” The passenger in the SUV, a man in his late sixties with a trimmed gray beard and startling blue eyes, leaned out the window. “Is this County Road 389?”
Leeann looked around, realizing she’d unknowingly taken the turn that led straight out to Bobby’s place, which was less than a hundred yards away. “Ah, yes, it is.”
The man smiled, triggering a memory. Did she know him? Her training kicked in. Palming her cell phone in her jacket pocket, she proceeded with caution, slowing to a walk but staying a safe distance from the vehicle. “I’m guessing you and the white van are together?”
“Yes. We’re looking for the Winslow place. We stopped at the diner in town and asked for directions, but they were pretty protective of their hometown celebrity.”
A sudden desire to shield Bobby filled her as well.
“My name is Vincent Jameson. We’re in town to do a photo shoot with Bobby Winslow.” The man pulled a leather billfold from his shirt pocket. “I’ll show you my identification if you don’t believe me.”
She believed him, connecting his name with his face. He was a famed photographer she’d worked with once many years ago. He obviously didn’t recognize her, but Leeann wasn’t surprised. She’d only been one of many models he must’ve worked with over the years and her looks had changed dramatically since New York. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
A familiar blue pickup came over the hill in the opposite direction and slowed to a stop when it reached them. “Hey, Leeann!” Dean leaned out the driver’s-side window. “Let me guess? You found the people I was sent to look for.”
The vehicles pulled to the side of the road and quick introductions were made. Then Dean made a U-turn, pulled up alongside her and called through the open passenger-side window, “Come on, hop in.”
“Oh, no, I’m just out for a jog. I think I’ll get back to it.”
“And miss the chance to see Ace playing the part of a fashion model? You could give him a pointer or two.”
She swallowed hard. “You know about my former career?”
Dean grinned. “Are you kidding? I still got my copies of Sports Illustrated, Swimsuit Editions 2003 and 2004. I think my favorite was the all-American bikini.”
Her face heated with a hot blush. “Well, that was a long time ago and I don’t want to get in the way.”
“Don’t you want to see how he’s doing?” Dean’s voice turned serious. “Your town isn’t exactly a thriving metropolis, yet still you two have managed to stay clear of one another.”
“He’s avoiding me?”
“As much as you’re avoiding him.”
Uncertainty filled her. She hadn’t been back to a photo shoot of any type since that night six years ago. It had taken a long time before she could face the simple flash from a digital camera without flinching or resurrecting memories of a time she wanted to keep firmly in her past.
“How is he doing?” she finally asked.
Dean’s grin returned. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”