Page 24 of Malice

He sighed, watching her for several long moments. “It does and I guess it will have to do.”

He shook his head then looked back at her, meeting her gaze. Her stomach flipped, making her wonder how things were moving so quickly between them.

“I still don’t like it, but I’m not sure I’ll be happy until he’s not a threat anymore, or unless I’m with you. Right now, neither is a viable option, so this will have to do.”

He shifted in his seat, looked away then back to her. “Now that we’ve been over that, how do you want to spend the rest of our evening? I don’t have a TV yet.” He motioned to the far wall and that it was bare. “I do have a couple books, but I’m not sure they’re something you’d be interested in. I read mostly murder mysteries and police procedurals.”

She let the corners of her mouth quirk up a little as he revealed these bits about himself. “I’m not much of a reader. Do you have a radio? Can we turn on some music? I can pull out one of my sketch books and draw while you read if you like.”

“That sounds good. I don’t have a radio, but I do have speakers for my phone. I can play music there. What kind do you like?”

“I’m not picky. Choose something that you like and can read with, I know some people can’t read with too much noise.”

“I’ve seen that.” He slid forward and watched her a moment, trying to gauge if she was being honest or just trying to tell him what she thought he wanted to hear. “I never got it. Once I’m in the story, I lose track of what’s going on around me.”

She couldn’t help the smile that quirked her own lips. “Kind of like me with my drawing. I use the music to help drown out the sounds of the world so I can focus.”

“You’re really okay with each of us doing our own thing, together?” He seemed hesitant, as if he’d tried it before and something about not paying enough attention to his partner had backfired on him.

“I’m good with it. I have to admit, I’m really bad about zoning out if I don’t get enough time to myself sometimes. I mean I can focus, and I can be social, but it’s sometimes exhausting.”

“I’ve always thought so, but people look at me weird when I say something to that effect, so I’ve learned to not say it anymore.” He pushed himself up off the couch. “Let me see if I can find that speaker. You get whatever you need, and we’ll meet back here in a few minutes?”

“You got it.” Bonnie went into the bedroom and to her bags where she remembered pulling her sketch pad out earlier. It was already in the other room. Instead of needing to dig it out now, she decided to find something more comfortable to wear.

When she made her way back to the living room, she found Corey already on the sofa, a couple paperbacks stacked on the arm next to him while he scrolled through something on his phone.

“What kind of music you want?”

“I don’t care. I’ll listen to pretty much anything. I’m not big on classical or purely instrumental, but otherwise I’m not too picky.”

He watched her for a moment, hit something on the screen. Music with an upbeat tempo and a catchy rhythm started playing through the pill-shaped speaker he’d set on the table in front of the sofa. He let it play for several bars, still watching her, as if he was aware of her reactions.

“That a good volume or you want it different?” he asked. The music was loud enough she had no problem hearing the lyrics, but not so loud they’d have to raise their voices to talk to each other.

“That’s fine.” She picked up her sketch book from where she’d left it on the coffee table and sat beside him on the sofa, close enough that while they didn’t touch just sitting there, if either of them moved more than just a little bit, they’d brush the other. She could have sat at the other end, but she wanted to be closer to him. Still, she didn’t want to assume he wanted her to touch him so casually.

She was still settling in and getting comfortable when he draped an arm around her and tugged her closer, until her side rested against him, then lifted his arm to rest along the back of the couch.

“I don’t like you so far over there. I like you being right here. Close to me,” he said when she gave him a curious look.

Bonnie smiled and snuggled in. She’d wanted to press up against him when she’d sat down, but hadn’t known how he would react so had resisted. And she would have liked to have his arm stay around her, but it would likely have interfered with her sketching.

Now though, warmth spread through her starting with where his leg rested against hers and his shoulder brushed hers as she opened her sketch pad to a clean page. She was going to play with sky lines and well known Wyoming landmarks, seeing what worked well for the mural. It would be all too easy to get used to this.

19

Malicerolledhisshouldersand went back to brushing the horse tied in front of him. He didn’t know where she’d found them, but she’d rolled in a patch of burrs and now her coat was covered in them. Brushing them out wasn’t his favorite job, but he’d done a lot worse.

He liked horses and typically enjoyed working with them, whether it was grooming or riding, but today he found it difficult to keep his mind on what he was doing.

It wasn’t her doing but Bonnie kept sneaking into his mind. Thoughts about her taste, how she’d felt in his arms, wondering what she was doing now kept invading, making him glad he wasn’t doing something that took all his focus.

He glanced at his watch, still an hour until lunch time. He would take a break then to take her some of whatever was left in the bunk house for the men to eat and check on her. He’d been relieved when she’d agreed not to go into work this morning, but that relief was short lived when she’d told him this would be the last day, unless something else happened.

Malice understood her need to go back to work, even if he didn’t like her putting herself in danger to do it. At least that was how he saw it. Would she get hurt? He sure as hell hoped not, but who knew what that fuckwad would do next? Had he been the one to destroy her car? He wished again he had a contact in the police department he could get some information from, but it was a useless wish, and he knew it.

The mare twisted around, watching him as he finished brushing the burrs from her coat.

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