Page 15 of Color of Love

“I hit a fox with my car and was looking for it, I wanted to check it wasn’t injured. I found it, it’s still alive. I’ve got a blanket in my car to wrap it in. I’m going to try and find somewhere to take it for help.” She shivered, and it took all his strength not to wrap her in his arms and warm her up. He needed to get away from her, he could feel the nervous edge starting to creep back into his veins, but he couldn’t make his legs walk away.

“I know somewhere we can take it,” he replied gruffly. He was calling himself all kinds of stupid for helping her when his mind screamed to stay away whilst he felt so vulnerable, but it was his duty to help his citizens.

She pushed past him, and tendrils of her hair coasted across his cheek in a silky caress, the scent of her washing over him, heating his blood. She opened the trunk of her car and bent forward. He tried not to stare at the round globes of her ass peeking out from the bottoms of her cotton shorts but failed miserably. She grabbed a blanket and slammed her trunk shut, switching on her flashlight again.

“It’s this way,” she said, and marched on, taking the lead, like she wasn’t wearing skimpy pajamas in the middle of nowhere, at midnight. Dammit he was the deputy, he should be in front, protecting her from any danger lurking in the woodland.

He tried to overtake her, but she shoved him out of the way, snapping that he needed to stop trying to lead when he didn’t know where he was going. It sounded like she called him something unpleasant in Spanish: he would need to Google that later. She shushed him when his boots clunked along the forest floor, snapping all the twigs, and crunching through the dried leaves.

“Every animal around for miles will hear you coming!” she hissed at him. That’s the point, he thought, he wanted to scare away anything that could hurt her. He kept close to her, letting her lead but keeping an eye out for any movement around them. After a few minutes she stopped dead and for all his training, he didn’t notice and slammed straight into her. Her soft body coming up against his, his arms banding around her to stop her from falling. His face buried in her hair, that familiar scent ratcheting up his desire. Because of course he was traipsing through the forest in the middle of the night with the one woman he couldn’t stop fantasizing over. Hello erection, nice to see you again, how long’s it been, a few hours?

“You need to be very still, and quiet,” she whispered, and she shone the flashlight into the brush and sure enough there was the small fox. Laying against the base of a tree, breathing shallowly, its eyes darting around wildly. It opened its mouth and let out a soft, high-pitched bark.

“I know honey, I’m sorry I hit you, but I’m gonna help you now, you’ll feel better soon, I promise,” she cooed at it and Blake stared at her. Was it charming that she was cooing at this wild animal? Yes. Did it chip a small chunk out of his defenses? Damn right it did.

He took the flashlight from her and kept it illuminated on the fox as she slowly crept over to it and wrapped it in the blanket she had. As she lifted it into her arms, it let out another pained bark, the sound echoing around the forest and hitting him hard in the chest. They quickly tramped back out to the road and then she stood there, looking down at the bundle in her arms, shivering. He sighed internally as he stripped off his jacket, thinking he was an ass for not doing it sooner.

“Here, give me the fox,” he said, and held his jacket out to her. She eyed him suspiciously but handed the fox over. When he took the bundle, she wrapped herself in his jacket and he instantly got irritated. Irritated that she’d covered up all that gorgeous skin of hers that was begging to be licked. Irritated that she looked adorable as fuck as his leather jacket swamped her. And irritated that he noticed all these things.

“Come on, this way,” he growled, angry at his runaway thoughts. He carried the fox past her car and towards his bike.

“Where are you going?” she called after him, her smoky voice had him fighting a shiver. She stood at the driver’s side of her car.

“Do you know where this place is?” he asked her pointedly. She shifted on the spot under his harsh scrutiny.

“No,” she muttered.

“Exactly, we’ll take my bike, it’ll get us there faster and give us a better chance of helping this little guy,” he said, and turned back to his bike. He held out his helmet to her, he only had one and would rather she wear it to protect that pretty little head of hers. He swung his leg over the bike, careful not to jostle the tiny injured bundle in his arms. She stood next to him, the helmet gripped tightly in her hands, eyeing the bike warily.

“Do you trust me, Justine?” he asked, holding his breath, not understanding why he needed to know her answer more than he needed air to breathe. She nodded, relief flooded him, and he held out a hand to her. She hesitated before sliding her palm into his, a jolt of electricity rocketing up his arm at her warm, soft touch. She placed her other hand on his shoulder as she got onto the bike and settled herself.

“Here.” He brought her arms around his waist and settled them around the fox so that she had her arms wrapped around him and the fox together.

“Hold on tight,” he commanded through gritted teeth as her heat came up against him, her soft breasts pressing against his back. He started the engine and pulled away, not too fast, to give her a chance to get used to the feel of the bike. Her knees gripped the side of his hips, tightening as they turned into the corners. She leaned in slightly, surprising him, she was a natural. He wondered if she’d been on the back of a motorcycle before and vowed to hunt down whichever man she’d done it with and hurt him.

He tried to distract his raging thoughts by focusing on where he was going. He’d done a little investigating since he heard about the incident with Rebelle at the station. He was trying so hard not to become drawn in and deeply ingrained in the town, but with the NWS meetings, Justine, and his curiosity over the incident with Rebelle, he was failing miserably. It turned out she owned a little farm on some land which she had inherited when her husband, the previous sheriff, had passed away.

Blake had driven past it during the week while on patrol, curious to see what she’d done with it. She had turned it into an animal shelter, the Take A Chance rescue shelter. Hopefully she would be able to help them tonight. He didn’t know why but it would trouble him if the fox died, not just because he didn’t want an innocent animal to die but because he didn’t know how he would react if he saw Justine upset.

They rode out of town quickly, the bike tearing through the streets faster than her tiny car could have and before long they arrived at the farm. The sound of the bike must have alerted Rebelle to their presence because she was coming out the front as he and Justine were getting off the bike. He took in Rebelle - she was a tiny slip of a woman, delicate, petite, too thin and too gaunt-looking for someone so young. Her brown hair floating about her cheeks in a delicate pixie cut, her doe eyes wide with alarm at the sight of these two strangers on her property in the middle of the night.

“Rebelle Black? I’m the new deputy sheriff, Blake Miller, pleased to meet you. Sorry to disturb you so late but we have a bit of an emergency you might be able to help with,” he said, helping Justine off the bike while protecting the wounded bundle she carried.

“Hi Rebelle, it’s been a long time, it’s great to see you,” Justine said quietly. Rebelle just eyed them both carefully. “I accidentally hit this fox and he needs urgent care. Is that something you can provide?” Justine continued. Rebelle stared at the bleeding animal in Justine’s arms, who chose that moment to let out another pained bark. She nodded, stepping forward and taking it gently from her.

“I know an emergency veterinarian who can take a look at him.” Rebelle’s voice was soft, her demeanor gentle, submissive even, and in that moment, Blake made up his mind. No matter what the town gossip was, there was no way Rebelle murdered her husband.

“Do you want me to take you?” Blake asked, coming to stand next to Justine.

“No, I’ll take my truck and go now. I’ll let you know what happens,” she said to Blake, and he nodded. She turned and headed towards where her truck was parked without a backwards glance.

“Thank you!” Justine called after her in the dark. Rebelle waved over her shoulder and got into the beaten-up old truck, gunned the engine, and drove off. Next to Blake, Justine shivered, her adrenaline probably wearing off.

“Come on, let’s get you back,” he said, and started walking back to the bike but realized she wasn’t following him. She was staring after Rebelle, looking worried. The level of concern she had for the injured animal surprised him. She was compassionate and genuinely worried and that melted his heart a little bit more.

“I’ll let you know what happens when Rebelle updates me,” he said, and she turned to meet his eyes in the moonlight. She nodded and then came after him. He got back on his bike and waited until she was sat behind him, helmet back in place and she tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist, her palms lifting up and flattening against his chest. He couldn’t help but notice how perfect she felt pressed against him and he fought his urge to pull her onto his lap, starting the engine more aggressively than he should have.

The drive was short and silent. In no time at all they were back at her car. She got off the bike and removed his helmet, shaking her long hair out and running a hand through it. She handed it back to him and then shrugged out of his jacket.

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