Blue Jeans and a Badge (5 page)

He regarded her. She was doing it again—reading his mind. Not that it would be so hard to decipher….

“You haven't had your cappuccino yet,” he said, not wanting her to leave.

“That's okay. Thanks for the beer.” She set the bottle down and edged toward the door.

“What about dinner? Aren't you hungry?”

“Still stuffed from that incredible lunch.” She flashed a brave smile. “I probably won't need to eat for days.”

“Luce—”

“I can call a taxi. You really don't have to—”

“Luce. There are no taxis in Piñon Lake.” As he got up from the desk she took a quick step backward. He put his hands on his hips. “I'm starting to get a little insulted here.” He might be thinking it, but he wouldn't ever do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

“Philip—”

“Are you
afraid
of me?”

She gave her head a quick shake. “Not you.” But nevertheless took another step back when he moved toward her. Before he could decide if he should be angry, she said, “It's me, Philip. I'm afraid if I stay, I'll…” She licked her lips.

His brows shot to his hairline. “You'll what?”

“Do something foolish.”

He couldn't help it. He had to smile. “Yeah? Such as?”

That earned him an eye roll. Then she got serious. “Philip, I'm not going to pretend I didn't like kissing you. Because I did. A whole lot. Which is why it's so tempting to—” She waved her hand.

“Stay?”

“Yeah. Stay. But neither of us are looking for a relationship, and as I said, I don't do—”

“One-night stands. I remember. But who said I'm not looking for a relationship?”

As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. Of course he wasn't looking for a relationship! Other than the obvious. Hell's bells.

Luckily, Luce came to his rescue. Her mouth had dropped open a fraction, as though she'd been taken aback, but now it closed and thinned. “Even more reason for me not to stay. I like my life just as it is. Uncomplicated and mobile.”

“Me, too,” he assured her. “At least the uncomplicated part. It's just…” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “You make my palms itch.”

Her lips tilted into a wry smirk. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

“Good to know,” he said, and headed straight for the door. “Come on, let's get out of here before it spreads.”

He heard her sigh as she followed behind him. “Too late.”

It took all his effort not to turn around and help her scratch.

 

The next morning Luce made sure she was dressed before Philip arrived. He hadn't said he'd come, but she had a feeling he'd be there at the motel bright and early just like yesterday.

She was right.

“Hi,” he said, leaning on the door frame with a grin and a finger in the air when she opened the door.

“Hi, back,” she said, and glanced at the front of the door to see what he'd been fiddling with. The 9 had slipped down into a 6 again. “What's going on?”

He dropped his hand. “It's a long drive to Santa Fe, we better hit the road.”

“Ever heard of a telephone?”

He switched to prop his back against the frame. “Sure. But it's always better to show up in person.”

She wasn't exactly sure if he was referring to him being at her door or them driving down to the Indian boarding school. Take your choice.

In the first place, she wasn't certain she wanted to work with him at all. And she definitely didn't want to spend hours in his Jeep again with his knuckles brushing her knee and his shoulder bouncing off hers. That was probably what had made her lose her mind last night and let him kiss her.

She groaned inwardly. “Is it as far as the reservation was?” she asked.

“Not quite,” he said. “We should make it in less than two hours.

Two hours. Each way. That made four hours. Not even counting the time in between, to make their inquiries.

Oh, what the hell. She was a strong person. She wasn't going to let this stupid attraction beat her. Or make her miss out on information vital to completing her job.

“Okay. Just let me get my briefcase.”

“Have you had breakfast?” he asked as she went to the closet.

She shook her head. “Don't generally eat breakfast. Just grab a cup of coffee.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he stated.

Like she hadn't heard that one a million times before. “You sound like my mom,” she grumbled.

“Smart lady.” Suddenly he was next to her, looking down at her footwear. “You got any boots?”

She glanced at her perfectly fine sneakers. “No. Why?”

“If we're gonna find that box canyon we'll have to do a bit of hiking.”

She stared at him. “Hiking? As in out in the wilderness?”

“That's generally where box canyons are found. Out in the wilderness.”

She was used to braving the urban wilderness of the big cities—St. Louis, Kansas City, Chicago. None of them gave her a moment's pause. But this was a different story. “Are there snakes?”

“Yeah, and bears, too, I reckon. And mountain lions and probably—”

“All right, already. I get the picture.” She pushed past him and grabbed her Walther from the nightstand. “Good thing I'm prepared.”

“You think that pea shooter will stop a charging thousand-pound bear?” he asked neutrally.

“Hell, no,” she said. “But it'll drop
you
long enough to distract it and let me get away.”

He banded his arms across his chest and made a pained face. “Nice.”

She batted her eyelashes. “A city girl's gotta protect herself somehow.”

He stuck his thumb to his chest. “Just let me do the protecting around here, okay?”

She was about to make a “Yeah, right” kind of retort, but for some reason the words stuck in her throat. Following after him as he strode confidently out the door, she had the most peculiar feeling that she really could rely on Philip to protect her. From bears to bad guys or anything else that came along. For a woman who dealt daily with men who'd sooner put her six feet under as swat a mosquito, that was an unusual sensation.

And the realization that despite knowing him for less than two days, if it came right down to it, she would probably trust Philip O'Donnaugh with her life…now that was downright sobering.

 

Before leaving Piñon Lake, Philip stopped at a place called the Shamrock Slipper and asked a waitress named Betsy to fix Luce a large decaf and a cinnamon cruller to go. Luce protested the cruller, which was huge and incredibly sticky looking, but the bossy chief of police apparently had everyone in town singing to his tune.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Betsy said with a motherly nod as she handed Luce the bag and a shamrock-printed napkin with her coffee.

“So I've heard,” Luce said, and forced a smile.

Betsy handed Philip a cup, too. “Black, no sugar, just how you like it, Chief O'Donnaugh.”

Oh, brother.

“Thanks, Betsy.”

“Will I see you for lunch?” she asked him, with a sideways glance at Luce.

“Not today, Betsy. We're headed for the big city.”

“I see,” the waitress said knowingly. “Well, have a good time.”

“It's work, Betsy. Part of the Soffit and Dickson robbery investigation.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You eat all your meals at the Shamrock Slipper?” Luce asked Philip as he was pulling out of the parking lot onto the highway.

“Nah. Just breakfast and lunch. I get my dinner to go. I like eating that at home.”

She sniffed at the bag. The cruller actually smelled delicious. “Sounds to me like you need to hire yourself a cook. I'm thinking Betsy would be a good choice.”

“I've tried, believe me. She refuses to leave the Slipper.” He tossed her a grin. “Interested in applying?”

She snorted. “The only thing I hate worse than cooking is washing dishes.” She bit into the doughnut and let out a hum of appreciation.

“Ah, well. Betsy tells me I need a wife, anyway.”

“Nothing wrong with having both. Not that I'm interested in either position,” she quickly added.

“Not the settling-down type. I remember.”

“Right,” she agreed.

But as she said it, she felt a weird pinging in her stomach. She looked over at Philip and, for the first time ever, had the fleeting thought that if she found a man like Philip to settle down with, a man who would protect her and make her laugh, one who fed her hot kisses at night and warm crullers in the morning, well, maybe settling down wouldn't be so bad.
Maybe someone like that could keep her eternal restlessness at bay.

She polished off the pastry and wiped her mouth with the napkin. Then again, she wasn't used to such rich food this early in the morning. That pinging sensation was probably just a sugar rush or a twinge of indigestion.

Better to leave the care and feeding of Chief O'Donnaugh to others, and get her badly wandering mind back on the job. She had work to do, a box canyon to find and a paycheck to earn. In order to do that, she had a man to catch.

And that man was definitely
not
Philip O'Donnaugh.

T
o Luce's surprise, when they got down the mountain to Taos, Philip pulled over and asked if she'd drive the rest of the way.

“I want to call Clyde's bank and credit card companies,” he explained. “They weren't open earlier. And I need to be able to write things down.”

“Sure,” she said enthusiastically. She'd always wanted to test drive a Jeep. “Are you sure it's okay?” At his puzzled look she pointed to the rack of police lights. “I'm not a cop.”

“Ah. That's easy enough.” He selected the Jeep key on his key ring and touched each of her shoulders with it. “I hereby dub you my deputy officer.”

After a second of disbelief she grinned and swiped the keys from him. “Hokay, then. Which way?” He pointed and she pulled back onto the highway. “So, does this mean I get a badge?”

“No problem,” he said, dialing his cell phone. “Pull in to the next Dollar Store and we'll get you one.”

She laughed and settled back in the bucket seat, adjusting the mirror to her height. And for the next half hour she listened as he schmoozed his way into getting four different people to run Clyde Tafota's recent bank and credit card activity, taking a few notes on the printouts he'd brought from last night.

He was good, she had to admit. As good as she was. He had just the right friendly attitude, with just enough professionalism thrown in so the person on the other end didn't think they were being manipulated. She knew legally he needed a subpoena to obtain that kind of personal financial information, so it was quite impressive that he managed to find out anything at all.

When he was finished, he pursed his lips. “That's a bit troubling,” he said.

She glanced over. “No activity?”

“Not since last Tuesday.”

“How much did he take out then?”

“Fifteen hundred dollars from his bank account. Nothing on the cards.”

“Fifteen hundred will get you a long way if you're careful,” she observed.

“Yeah. But where would he go? His family and friends are all here.”

“Spending your life in jail is a powerful motive to make new friends.”

He tapped his pencil on the papers. “Hopefully his sister has already told him that's not going to happen.”

“And if she hasn't, maybe it's because he's hiding out in that box canyon with a dead cell phone.”

“Which means we'd better find it and let him know.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said. “Did you talk to your friend at the Taos Sheriff's Office?”

He told her his friend, Ted, hadn't been able to find any records of the 1934 incident in the files, but that he'd keep looking and let them know. Hopefully they'd have better luck at the school.

Meanwhile it was turning into another spectacular day, sunny and warm, and laced with the ever-present aroma of sage and pine. Today she'd been smart and worn her T-top under a loose flannel shirt, which she'd peeled off earlier when they stopped. She took a sidelong glance at Philip, who looked sexy as ever in his short-sleeved black cop shirt and snug jeans. Today he'd holstered his Beretta on his hip, though he'd made her put her Walther in the strong box under the back bench. He probably thought she'd been serious about that bear remark.

At her grin he said, “What's funny?”

“Just enjoying myself,” she said, and realized with a start that she actually meant it. “I'm not used to having company on a job. It's kinda nice.”

“Not worried about me stealing your collar?”

“Ha.” She snorted. “You and what army?”

He grinned back. “Pretty spunky for a city slicker. We'll see how spunky you are when you meet up with your first wild animal.”

She slanted him a look. “Thought I did that last night,” she teased.

Ohh, big mistake. His grin turned wicked. “You were pretty wild yourself, doll.”

She felt the tips of her breasts tighten in response to his slow regard. Why, oh, why had she said that? One look at the man and her brain just vaporized, like some teenager with her first crush. She caught herself swerving off the road and steered the Jeep back to the center of the lane.

“It's this state,” she lamented. “I haven't been myself since setting foot in it.” Actually since meeting the man sitting next to her, but she'd bite her tongue off before admitting that.

“Well, if it is New Mexico, I like what it's done to you. That was one hell of a kiss last night.”

She took a deep breath to shake off the swirly feeling of desire that suddenly spun through her body. “Yeah.”
Damn.
“Do we have to talk about this?”

“Hey, you brought it up.”

So she had. What else could she talk about instead? She plucked at her T-shirt. “Are you hot?”

“Some women think so,” he said mildly.

She rolled her eyes heavenward, and caught sight of the canvas roof. “Say, can you take the top off?” she asked, brightening. When he didn't respond, she looked over at him.

He blinked and opened his mouth to answer, but the lascivious expression gave his thoughts away.

She held up one hand and shook her head. “Don't say it, O'Donnaugh,” she groaned. “I can't believe I walked right into that one.”

“That you did,” he agreed. With a wink, he reached up, unhooked the soft part of the roof and lowered it without making a single comment or offer to do the same service for her.

He didn't have to. Her breasts were already tingling at the memory of his hands on them. She could only imagine what it would feel like with her top off.

No, no, no.

“We really have to stop this, you know,” she said firmly. Well, she'd
meant
to say it firmly, but for some reason her voice came out breathy and tentative. “It's going to drive us crazy if we don't.”

“Or…” he said over the sough of the wind through the open Jeep, “we could do something about it.”

“Not a good idea,” she repeated for the third time aloud and about the millionth to herself.

He reached over and took her hand from the steering wheel, putting it to his lips. He kissed the top of it, then placed it back where it had been. “So you keep saying,” he said.

“And you disagree?”

His lip quirked and he relaxed back in his seat, giving her a long look. “I say it doesn't really matter whether it's a good idea or not. We're going to end up in bed together, anyway, naked—with you under me.”

 

It was a damn good thing she had a solid grip on the steering wheel and it was an arrow-straight section of highway, because for a moment Luce was so stunned she couldn't move or even think.

The impact of Philip's low-spoken words hit her like a sucker punch. It's not like she hadn't had the exact same thought once or twice, but hearing it aloud made it sound almost…inevitable.

She swallowed heavily. “You're awfully sure of yourself, O'Donnaugh.”

“Not at all,” he said, giving her the same look she gave jumpers who were trying to talk her into letting them go because they were innocent of all charges. “What I am sure of is this incredible chemistry we have going on between us.”

“Having chemistry doesn't mean having to act on it. We're adults.”

“It would be a shame to waste what we're feeling for each other.”

“It would be an even bigger shame for one of us to get hurt. Or both.”

“Sex isn't supposed to hurt, Luce.”

“But love does.”

She fastened her gaze determinedly on the solid yellow lines running alongside the Jeep. She hadn't meant to say that. In fact, she wasn't exactly sure where the words had come from. She'd never really had an unhappy love affair. She'd never given herself the chance. She'd been too busy for love. First with school, then her job. Her endless traveling and relentless dedication to work had precluded any kind of emotional attachment—except for her parents, Arthur and the other guys at the jump shop.

“The trick is…” Philip said, yanking her out of her thoughts. “The trick is
not
to fall in love.”

She swung her gaze to him, taking in his strong, square jaw and intelligent eyes, his sculpted lips and thick black hair.
That would be a trick, all right, she thought with a sinking heart. To sleep with this man and not fall in love with him seemed like an impossibility.

“I never fall in love,” she managed to say with a fair amount of conviction.

“Then there's no problem.” He didn't smile, didn't wink, didn't reach out and touch her. Simply said, “I want you, Luce. I want to be inside you. And I know you want me, too.”

Chaos ran rampant through her body, but she was spared having to tame it and comment one way or the other, because suddenly they were in Santa Fe. Philip directed her to the school and she drove into the parking lot. It was only after she'd pulled into a spot that she realized her hands were shaking.

She stuck them under her armpits and leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, then took a deep breath to steady her nerves while Philip got out and came around to her side.

He opened the door and unclipped her seat belt. “Is the thought of sleeping with me that bad?” he asked when she didn't move.

She looked up and tried to smile. “No, of course not.”

“Come here.” He opened his arms and, even though she knew very well it would just make things worse and not better, she slid out and into them, letting him enfold her in his secure embrace. “I hope you know,” he said, “I would never do anything you didn't want me to.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I just think it's better to get things out in the open and talk about them. I've had too many surprises in my life. I don't like hidden agendas.”

“Okay.”

He tilted up her chin and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm as the breeze rustling the Jacaranda trees. It wasn't a demanding kiss, or even a claiming one. It was just…really nice. And that's when she knew with dead certainty she was in even bigger trouble than she'd ever thought possible.

The man was smart, handsome, sexy and sensitive, too.

In short, he was simply irresistible.

Just then a group of older teenagers walked by, noticed them kissing and started hooting and cheering. “Hey, Mr. Policeman, that's sexual harassment!” one of them shouted, to the others' great amusement.

“Hell, I don't care if she harasses me!” he called back, to their even greater amusement.

She laughed and he put his arm around her shoulder. His smile-crinkled eyes met hers, and she drank in the warmth and affection and innate goodness she saw in their depths.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered, and kissed her temple. “Anytime.”

 

Philip found it difficult to concentrate on what the principal was telling him she'd dug up about the two Apache children who had run away from school so long ago. He had more immediate matters on his mind.

Like how he was going to get through the day without kissing Luce again. That little taste he'd gotten in the parking lot was not nearly enough. But he'd promised not to do anything she didn't want. And he meant to keep that promise. Next time, she'd have to ask him.

He wanted to groan out loud. She'd
never
ask him.

“Here are the records I was able to find,” the principal was saying as she handed him a thin, fragile-looking yellowed file. “It's not much, I'm afraid. But it might give you a general direction to look in.”

“Could we have copies?” he asked politely.

“I've already had a set made,” she said, and gave him a small sheaf of photocopies held together with a paper clip. “Good luck with your investigation.”

Back in the Jeep, it took about two minutes for him and Luce to read through them.

“She was right,” Luce said. “Not much to go on.”

“Let's try the library,” he suggested, and turned the Jeep toward Washington Street, taking the wheel again.

“The library?”

“That's where the newspaper archives are kept. There must have been articles written about this. Maybe there'll be pictures of the canyon.”

Two hours later, Philip's eyes hurt from squinting at microfiches and his stomach was grumbling from hunger. They'd found three articles and one indistinct photo of the general vicinity of where the canyon was located, but looking for the actual place would be like trying to find a golden needle in a haystack.

“Let's get some lunch,” he said, “then take a drive out to Abiquiu and have a look.”

“All right,” Luce said, and gathered her things.

She'd been quiet since his bold declaration of desire, which worried Philip a little. He'd rather have her angry and sassy than quiet and thinking too much.

Why was she putting so much importance on this decision of whether to sleep together or not? Hell, it was just sex.

For some women that might be a problem, but with Luce's lifestyle and self-proclaimed aversion to commitment, he didn't think it was the sex per se she objected to. She hadn't acted like an offended virgin. It was sex with
him
she objected to. Which was weird, because she really seemed to like him. Lord knew, she definitely liked to kiss him.

Surely she wasn't actually worried about developing feelings for him?

Inwardly, he scoffed. Doubtful.

If anyone should worry about feelings growing where they shouldn't, it was him. He had a bad history of that sort of thing. The last woman he'd fallen for had really put him through the ringer. Though she'd told him all along he was rushing matters, he hadn't listened. More's the pity.

You always heard about men having commitment phobias. But in his experience, women were even worse. Maybe it was his age, and all the ones interested in marriage already were, and those who weren't, weren't interested. He was the first
to admit that little catch-22 had served him well these past few years while commitment had been the last thing on his mind. But back when he'd been hurt, he'd been looking for someone he could spend his life with. And deep down, he knew he still was.