Page 36 of Lone Star Country Protector
Dalton resisted the notion she might know him better than he knew himself. They’d spent a long weekend together before now, which wasn’t nearly long enough to get to know a person. “Well, you have a point there, Your Honor.”
It also dawned on him that she was most likely good at reading people and body language given her chosen profession. He could say the same about himself. It still had him scratching his head how he’d misjudged the situation that had happened with the two of them talking for hours about nothing the first night they’d met and then spending the night together making love. But that was probably coming from the bruised ego she’d left behind after walking, no, running, away from him.
Dating a coworker wasn’t professional. Having sex with a coworker definitely wasn’t considered professional. Technically, however, they weren’t coworkers. They worked in the same district and in the same type of business. Their paths could cross. That was an obvious reality given the circumstances. It scorched him that she didn’t believe he could be professional enough to handle the situation should they come face-to-face.
Now that he’d been assigned to protect her, having a fling was off the table. When they’d made love, she hadn’t known him from Adam.
“We’re twenty minutes out,” she announced, cutting into his reverie.
Dalton moved into the kitchen, trading places while Blakely took his seat at the small table built for two. Moving around each other in the kitchen felt like a dance they’d rehearsed their entire lives. There was nothing more natural. “Hold on.” He moved to the opened box in the living room, dug around and extracted a picture of all the cousins together at the paint horse ranch. They were young and fresh-faced, all sitting on top of a small stretch of wood fence, all smiling like they’d just been told they could eat nothing but ice cream for dinner. His cousin Crystal had found the picture years ago, had duplicates made and then framed for each one of them to put up in their homes since they all lived apart in different areas of Texas. This way, no matter where they were, they would always have each other. Or, at least, that was what she’d said while presenting the gifts.
He set the picture on the fireplace mantel, in the center. “There. Is that better?”
Blakely smiled. “Yes, it is.”
He couldn’t agree more.
* * *
Blakely watched asDalton worked his magic on the stovetop grill. “Do you mind if I ask what drew you to law enforcement and becoming a marshal?”
“I’ll tell if you will,” he said. “And you go first.”
These topics had been off-limits before, but there was nothing stopping them from sharing details about their private lives now.
“I had a run-in with someone when I was fifteen years old,” she explained. “It resulted in the scar on my forehead.” She paused a beat, realizing it was easier to talk about than she feared it might be. Was that the Dalton effect? “After that, it took a really long time to trust people again.”
“I’m sure that must have left a huge imprint on youmentally,” he said. “Being fifteen is hard enough without having a traumatic event to knock you off-balance.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he said with the kind of compassion that made her almost believe everything would be all right again. “It must have left a lasting impression.”
“It did,” she admitted. “But then I got strong physically and mentally, and I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to protect others from a similar fate.”
“What happened to the person who did this to you?”
“He got off with a slap on the wrist because his family had enough money for an expensive lawyer. One who played golf with the judge who presided over the case,” she said, realizing she hadn’t spoken those words out loud in…ever.
“Sonofabitch,” he mumbled, and she couldn’t agree more. “So you studied law and decided to become a judge to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
“Yes,” she said, also realizing the irony in the fact one of those bastards was currently threatening her life after being released on a technicality. At least they knew who they were looking for now. There was a BOLO out. She had to trust law enforcement to do their jobs.
“It’s noble,” he said. “And I’m still sorry the bastard walked away without punishment.”
“He self-destructed within a couple of years,” she said before turning the tables. “How about you? Why did you become a US marshal?”
“Job security,” he quipped. They both laughed at that. His job was one of the most dangerous paths in law enforcement.
“Seriously,” she said.
“Okay,” he said before flipping the steaks. They sizzled on the grill, and the place already smelled like heaven. “Heregoes. I had a no-good mother who abandoned the family not long after I was born.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s awful.”
“Thankfully, I was too young to remember that,” he said. “Except that my father then died young. He was a good person by all accounts.”
The phraseonly the good die youngcame to mind. Though, experience had taught her that wasn’t always the case.
