Little one. She’d heard his cousin Houghton call Mel that so many times. Mel had blushed one day when Nikkie Jean had teased her about it. There had been so much love in Houghton’s voice when he’d called Mel that. It was a private nickname between the two lovers that had so much meaning behind it. Beautiful.
And now Turner was calling her that. Annie shivered, feeling like a fool. Two words. They were just two words. But she heard the meaning behind them.
Turner was looking at her with an odd look on his face. He looked so…strong. Determined.
Like a hunter of some sort. Nikkie Jean liked to call her fiancé a dragon, and his twin a tiger. Said they were the kind of men who would hunt and pounce and the poor prey wouldn’t see them coming.
Nikkie Jean had said bluntly that she’d felt like that prey before. So had Jillian.
And then they’d both giggled and said they’d greatly enjoyed being caught.
That it had been worth it. Annie could halfway understand that.
Turner was as sleek as a panther, and just as deadly. When he wanted something, she had no doubt he’d eventually get it. He would be just that relentless.
She was what he wanted now. Annie tried to hide the little shiver that went through her at that idea.
She was a woman who wanted, craved, a simple life—with her three children. She doubted Turner Barratt was looking for the same. Turner stepped even closer, his hand slipping from her hair to wrap lightly around her neck.
Annie looked up at him. He had almost a foot in height over her. His arms were strong and broad and perfect. She’d always liked a man’s arms. Strong and dependable.
Turner’s arms could hold the entire world at bay.
Annie’s breath came out in a quiet sigh.
Maybe it had happened during the storm for her, too. He’d been so…calm and steady. Had made everything seem like it was going to be ok. Because he would make it that way. The same way he had when Izzie had been hurt.
She’d depended on him, trusted him to do just that.
When she’d woken in the hospital and saw him next to her bed, she’d known she was going to be ok. That he was going to see to it.
Annie had never fully trusted a man in her life—with the notable exception of Jake McNamara.
Jake, who had suggested she not go home tonight, either. Who had seemed to approve of her going with Turner.
Turner’s uninjured arm slipped around her waist. He pulled her closer. Annie stupidly cuddled closer. The shirt he’d borrowed from Allen was just a tad too tight through the shoulders and chest. He was just a bit larger than life tonight. It was like nothing could keep this man from what he wanted.
A bullet had ripped across his flesh, and yet there he stood, holding her.
Annie just breathed him in for a moment.
His scent was so familiar. For some reason, a part of her was going to be entwined in Turner Barratt forever.
“What are you doing?”
“What I wanted to do out there in your front yard tonight. I wanted to touch your cheek.” His fingers put actions to his words, brushing across her left cheek. One flirted with the corner of her mouth. Heat shot through her.
Fire burned in his eyes. “Annie…”
She didn’t step away. Annie knew that she had the choice to just step away. Instead, she stretched up against him like a cat. She whispered his name, but no sound came out.
What was she doing? She wasn’t crazy. She was a calm, stable, steady woman who had three children dependent on her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who kissed the mayor after he’d been shot, practically in her arms.
She wasn’t. That was Jillian, or Lacy, or even Nikkie Jean. Not Annie.
Annie had never done anything this crazy in her entire life. Turner’s head lowered; his mouth pressed to hers.
He was nothing like the men she’d kissed before. Despite what Izzie liked to say about her being a prude, Annie wasn’t a virgin. She’d had two relationships in her life, the first when she was nineteen. The second a few years later. Nothing lasting had come from those relationships.
The second one had ended within days of her moving back in with her mother to take on caring for three children and a teenager. Kissing Devonte had been no more than kissing a boy. Kissing Turner Barratt was far different.
Fire. There was fire, from the moment Turner’s lips opened over her.
Annie’s fingers slipped between them, and she gripped the faded green cotton of Allen Jacobson’s old shirt. She fought the urge to pull Turner closer. She didn’t know how to kiss him the way her heart was telling her to.
Annie wouldn’t admit how much she wanted to grab him and just pull him closer. She wasn’t impulsive with men like that. She never had been, and she never would be. Especially men like Turner A. Barratt. He was just…too much. He’d burn her completely and leave her as nothing more than ashes. It was best to just walk away from him now. Go back to being Mommy and Nurse Annie as quickly as she could.
But that was the coward’s way. Annie was tired of hiding from what life had to offer.
She looked into his darker blue eyes. Her hands were still tight on his shoulders.
He took a small step toward her, arms tightening around her.
Right there in the lobby of the ranch that had been in his family for a least one hundred years. The backdrop of the room framed him perfectly. Showed her exactly the kind of man he was. He was a man straight out of a romance novel just like the ones Izzie pretended she wasn’t trying to write in her spare, spare time. After tonight, Annie had plenty of material for her best friend. “Because that’s all it can be.”
“Why? I know we’ve not known each other long, but I know what my head is telling me.”
“It’s not your head. It’s another part of your body. It’s lust. We both know that we’re attracted to each other.” Annie needed to step back. Slow down. Take time to think, before she made one of the biggest, riskiest decisions of her life. “I need to call Nikkie Jean. Check on the boys…”
He smiled, a wicked, hunting expression. Oh yeah. A stalking panther described him perfectly in that very moment. “After…”
Annie’s arms went around him, and she thought, To hell with it. It was time she walked through the fire. She leaned forward, her arms going around him. “After…”
Annie pressed her lips to his as his uninjured arm swept around her.
They could have died tonight. It was time she started living.