“Thankfully, in my purse.” She leaned forward, rummaged through, and retrieved it.
Georgia appeared with a sandwich plate and a cup of coffee. “Here ya go, Rick. I also made extra for Jenna. You must be hungry. All you ate was half a muffin. And as much as I’d like to sit here with you two and chat, I have the afternoon shift and need a couple of hours’ sleep.”
Rick rose and kissed her on the cheek. With a wave to Jenna, she was gone, leaving the two alone. Rick lowered back into the chair.
“How much does your hip bother you?”
He didn’t answer right away. “Long days it can ache. Nothing I can’t manage.”
“You like to pretend it doesn’t hurt, don’t you?”
He held up the sandwich plate and when she shook her head no, he selected a ham and cheese. “It doesn’t.”
She leaned back, a smile curling her lips. “And my past doesn’t bother me. I don’t have sleepless nights and I don’t imagine Shadow Eyes following me around.”
He paused, the sandwich inches from his lips. “Shadow Eyes?”
She shrugged. “Makes no sense.”
“I’m all ears.” He bit into the sandwich, his gaze on her.
“The guy who took me and killed my family is dead. I know that. But in my dreams, there is the other man.”
“What other man?”
Frustration snapped quick and sharp. “That’s the thing, there is no other man. Ronnie Dupree acted alone.”
“But you believe he didn’t?”
“I’ve no proof. No hard and fast memories. Just a gut feeling, which I think is way off base.”
He finished his sandwich and as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, reached for his coffee. “What if there were two men?”
“Wouldn’t they have found him?”
“Not necessarily.” He sipped his coffee. “I spoke to Ronnie Dupree’s mother. As I understand you did too?”
A shrug. “She was a piece of the puzzle.”
“She said Ronnie had a friend. Billy.”
“I remember.”
“Name ring a bell?”
“No. I wish it did. But I was just a kid. So much floated right over my head.”
“Saying Ronnie didn’t act alone. Saying there was another person there. He or she would have left evidence behind that should have been destroyed by the fire that didn’t take.”
“I’m assuming there was quite a bit of forensic data collected. Maybe Billy or this mystery person left something behind.”
“I’ve thought about that. It all boils down to time and sifting and retesting what was collected.”
She nodded. “Time and money. Seems it always comes to that.”
“Yeah.” He took another sip of coffee. “You’ve got to be tired.”
Since he’d entered the room, she’d wanted to touch him. That desire now sent energy snapping through her body. “Par for the course when you have insomnia.”
“Let me show you to your room.”
“Thanks.”
He rose and led her through a door off the kitchen that connected to a staircase up to a small room. He flipped on the light. The room was small and furnished with a brass bed that looked as if it was a century old. A worn, well-made quilt warmed the top along with several extra blankets. On the wall were paintings of the countryside.
“Who was the artist?”
“My grandmother. My mother was her only child and she had time to paint. Mom always said she’d have painted if she had less chaos in her life.”
“Sounds like you kept her fairly busy.”
“More than anyone has a right to.”
She set her purse beside the bed, not wanting the smoky scent to spread. “It’s a nice room. I don’t see why you’d renovate.”
“The bathroom doesn’t have a shower. Be nice if it did so guests wouldn’t have to go to the main house to bathe.”
“Makes sense.”
“Stay as long as you want. Like I said, the place is huge and its just Georgia and me.”
“Thanks.”
She looked at him and something inside of her released, as if she’d had an iron grip on her life for as long as she could remember.
She moved toward him, closing the gap in seconds. Inches separated them. Her heat mingled with his as she waited for him to step back or give her some sign that he didn’t want this kind of attention. He didn’t move.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently on the lips. For a moment he didn’t move, as if giving her the chance to back out. She deepened the kiss and this time his arm banded around her waist. Though he still made no move to kiss her, as he watched as she moistened her lips and savored his salty taste. She kissed him again. A brush of her body against his told her he wanted her.
None of this would change anything, she told herself as she pressed her breasts against his chest. She needed to feel human contact. To feel alive. She would not get attached and she would not care.
She slid her hand up under his shirt, against his flat belly. Energy thrummed in her veins as she kissed him harder. He backed her up to the bed until her knees touched the mattress and then slowly he lowered her to a mattress that sagged under their weight.
His hand slid up her sweatshirt to her breast. When calloused fingers rubbed against her bare breast she hissed in a breath.
Neither spoke as each tugged free of their clothes, which landed in scattered piles beside the bed. She traced her hand over his broad back and over his buttocks seconds before he pushed into her. She savored the sensation of being full and alive, as all the nerve endings in her body danced. Slowly, he moved inside her, building into a fever pitch until both found their release.
He collapsed beside her, his breathing labored and fast. Her heart thrummed. He pulled a blanket over them and spooned his body next to hers, tucking her bare butt next to him.
There was probably a lot they had to talk about. She wasn’t sure what she’d say exactly but, at this moment, she wasn’t worried about words. Her eyes drifted closed and in his arms she fell into a deep, fitful, dreamless sleep.