“Well, I’m not,” he muttered. He didn’t know what hurt more: his feelings, for not somehow being able to prevent this when he was supposed to be a cop who took care of people, or his unrelieved libido, for the night he’d spent holding her in his arms.
She loved holding him. Even if it made him nervous. Even if he hadn’t instigated the action. His blue jeans were rough against her bare legs, his striped shirt soft against her cheek. He smelled good. All lemony and woodsy. And he felt even better. He was so big and so hard in so many interesting places and— Her hands ceased their movement beneath his jacket. She looked up and forgot what she’d been about to say.
“It’s my gun.”
She yanked her hands back from around him as if she’d just put them on a snake. It was the leather shoulder holster that she’d felt. And the look on his face told her that she’d done the wrong thing by being shocked.
Cole saw it. He’d been waiting for something like this for weeks. Ever since her arrival, he’d known that someday something was bound to happen that would prove to him that a relationship between them wouldn’t work. He’d been certain that his occupation would be abhorred, that his daily lifestyle would be a problem. He’d been waiting…and he was sick to his stomach that he’d been right.
“Well, I know that,” Debbie finally said. “I just wasn’t expecting it. After all, it’s not like I’ve ever seen you completely dressed that many times anyway.”
Her statement hadn’t been what he’d expected. As usual, she’d caught him off guard. And her reminder that last night he’d had little to nothing on as they slept the rest of the night away took him aback.
He still wasn’t certain that she was revealing her true feelings. There were women he’d known who’d been appalled that he carried a gun. There had been others who’d been turned on by the fact. He wanted someone in between. He’d never found her. He didn’t think she existed. At least, he’d believed that wholeheartedly until that damned cabby had dumped a lost tornado from Oklahoma on his doorstep. Now he wasn’t so sure. In fact, he hadn’t been sure about a thing since.
“I just stopped by to see how you’re doing and to tell you that the witness at the mall identified the guy. At least, it’s a tentative I.D. I wondered if you’d mind looking at a few pictures…?”
“Are you working on this case?” Debbie was surprised. “I thought you only worked on stuff involving narcotics.”
“Not officially.”
The tone and intensity of his voice told her more than his terse answer.
“Let’s just say I have a…vested interest…in seeing that nothing else happens to you, lady.”
Debbie nodded. “Then spread ‘em,” she mocked.
The look on his face was worth the pain she felt as she laughed. “I mean the pictures, you dork. What did you think, that I was going to frisk you?” She ran her finger down the buttons of his shirt and, when she got to his belt buckle, tapped it sharply with her nail. “That’s your job, remember?”
“Hell’s fire!”
She cocked her eyebrow, tried not to smile again, and waited for him to show her the pictures. He finally came to his senses, yanked an envelope out of his jacket pocket, and strung several photos on the kitchen table.
“This one,” Debbie said quickly. It hadn’t taken long to pick out that belligerent face beneath long blond hair.
“Sure?”
“Very. And I can’t believe I didn’t think to tell you I’d seen him. I guess I just assumed that, because I had, you did, too. If I’d had my wits about me, maybe none of this would’ve happened.”
Cole slid the pictures back in the envelope and headed for the phone. When someone answered, his comment was short and sweet. “It’s him. She made a positive I.D.” He nodded as he listened, and then quickly disconnected. “They’re putting out an APB. Maybe if we catch him, we’ll get the rest of that snatch-and-grab gang operating at the beach.”
“Good. I’d hate to think about any more nice people like Florence Goldblum getting hurt. The next one might not be as lucky as Florence.”
“Lucky?”
Debbie smiled. “Yes, lucky. If you hadn’t been there, no one would have retrieved her bag in time to get her medicine.” She punched him lightly in the stomach. “And you know it, tough guy.”
“Oh, there’ll always be a next time. The world’s full of creeps like that.”
Debbie hugged him, purposely resting her cheek on the bulge of his holster just to prove that it didn’t shock her by its presence. “And the world’s just as full of nice guys…like you.”
His arms tightened, and then he quickly released them, remembering her injuries.
“I’ve got to get back. I just wanted to make sure—”
“I’m fine. However, I can’t promise what condition I’ll be in by bedtime.”
He frowned. “Why?”