The first spurt blasted up, stealing his breath. The second and Layne moaned with him. The third, their mouths collided in a long, deep kiss.
After what felt like an hour, he returned to his senses.
The woman was under his protection. Cradling her head in his palm, he drew her down onto his chest.
There was no place safer than his arms.
* * * * *
With a huff of irritation, Layne tossed her phone onto the sofa cushion and stared off into space.
This was not what she imagined when she had Hannah clear her schedule so she could come to Wyoming.
Being stuck in the house for the past five days was driving her mad. She had Faye to talk to, and on occasion she crossed paths with Carson. But if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was avoiding her.
Which was for the best. They couldn’t sleep together again. Their past made the whole thing too tangled up and problematic. Besides, he was working for her. Providing security.
A vision of the painting sent by the unknown person rose in her mind. The colors and brushstrokes she’d once admired were now tainted with a threat. The painting came from a private collector. She’d been in this industry long enough to know that people locked down the names of buyers. In some cases, nobody knew who owned a piece until it came up for sale again decades later.
Carson had told her that Black Heart Security already contacted the seller. The painting wasn’t stolen—money changed hands. Black Heart Security didn’t get any further in their investigation, but since a crime was involved, they were hopeful that warrants and such could force the buyer to hand over the information.
Layne was so creeped out by it all. The questions never stopped either.
Had the buyer of the painting followed her to Golden Horizon? They might have been on the same flight.
He could have been in a seat close enough to watch her.
Skin crawling with the thought, she rubbed her hands over her upper arms to dispel the goose bumps.
Carson had confiscated the painting. Where had he taken it?
It still surprised her every time he shifted into bodyguard mode. He’d always been her protector in their youth—he vowed to always keep her safe. Neither of them ever guessed that a situation like this would crop up.
Bonus was that shedidhave a gorgeous former Navy SEAL within grabbing distance at all times.
But that was almost worse. What were they even doing? Sleeping together was only complicating matters. Sure, it offered a great distraction from her endless workload, not to mention the constant texts she was getting from people who knew she was back in Wyoming for a little while.
She’d received two phone calls from old friends of her family, inviting her to dinner and even to a summer party.
The longer she sat here, the more she wondered if she wouldn’t be safer back in New York City.
By the time she heard Carson’s footsteps advancing on the living room, her irritation level was at a high.
He stopped at the look on her face. “What’s the matter?” He sliced a glance at the phone sitting on the cushion beside her.
“I didn’t come to Wyoming to be stalked and trapped in my home.”
He let out a sigh and sank to the seat across from the sofa. Elbows on his knees, he scrubbed his palms over his face. The years had been kind to him. The twitches of smiles he’d given her reminded her of the boy she’d known. But she also detected a new strain in his eyes.
She sighed and sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. You’re doing all you can do, and here I am being a pain.”
He studied her for a moment before sitting back, manly thighs spread in a natural fashion and one big forearm resting on the chair arm. “My brothers are working on it.”
“How long do you think it will take to find out who sent the painting?”
“That depends on if you remember anything more that could help us. Give us a lead.”
She racked her brain. The question had been on her mind every minute—except the ones when she was in bed with Carson—since it happened.