Page 55 of Deadly Evidence
The dog sat at his feet wagging her plume of a tail, clearly pleased with herself.
Brady tipped his head toward the laundry alcove at the far end of the kitchen. “I think she got this out of one of the baskets of clean laundry over there.”
Anna groaned. “She’s border collie and part retriever—so she’s either trying to herd the barn cats or bring us anything she can lift in her mouth. Once she got mixed up and tried fetching a cat—got one whale of a scratch on her nose.”
“Guess this was safer,” he observed, tossing Anna the...
Pink silk underwear.
Embarrassed, Anna stuffed it into her robe pocket, wishing Mojo had found something else. Like a shoe.
She lived in jeans, boots, and flannel shirts—except for church every Sunday—but what she wore underneath satisfied her girlie side—the side she never revealed as a hardworking, no-nonsense rancher. In her world, she needed to be taken seriously.
“Well...um...you missed supper. There’s leftover chili in the fridge and a pan of cornbread on the stove.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
“Then I’ll go get you some fresh towels. Lacey and I made up your bed earlier, but I forgot the towels for your bathroom. I bet you’re ready to turn in.”
“Not quite.”
She slid a glance at the clock over the stove. “You must be. You were up at dawn to help with chores. Now it’s past three in the morning.”
“I promised you I won’t try to take advantage of this situation. I’m not that kind of guy.”
He toed off his boots and lined them up with all the others by the door. Slid off his jacket and hung it on a peg.
His eyes locked on hers as he sauntered across the kitchen toward her until he was just a few inches away. “It wouldn’t be right.”
Beneath her heavy terry cloth robe, Anna felt her heart pick up a faster beat.
“But,” he said in a voice so low that she felt it vibrate through her, “I just want to know one thing.”
Lifting her chin, she gave him a cool look. “And that is...?”
“I’ve been wondering if kissing you was as wonderful as I remember—or if I only imagined it.” He gave an apologetic motion with his hand, but there was no apology in the teasing undertone of his voice.
She softened as she remembered that kiss, understanding exactly what he meant. No one had ever kissed her like that. Even now, just the thought of it made her nerve endings tingle.
How could she have known him for just two short weeks and feel that kind of connection?
Maybe her long, hard days and too much stress had clouded her memory.
Everyone else in the house had been asleep for hours. The house was dark, quiet, and expectant—as if time stood still in hushed anticipation.
“I believe in pursuing dreams,” she murmured. “But also making sure I know the difference between dreams and reality.”
She closed the space between them and he drew her into a sweet, soft kiss that spoke of tentative emotions. Hope.
And then he pulled away.
“Guess I was right. Itwaswonderful,” he said gently, “But I shouldn’t have done that.”
She stared up at him, her pulse fluttering, knowing he was right.
He probably dated beautiful, sophisticated women back home. Women who were classy, with upswept hair, diamonds, and little black dresses.
They didn’t haul hay or clean stalls or spend fifteen-hour days on horseback checking cattle.
