Page 29 of Warrant
I woke up this morning, hornier than I’d been going to bed and even more restless. I was supposed to be staying away from him. To be doing the right thing. The smart thing. Which was leaving him to live his life while I led mine, separately. But my heart and mind, not to mention my body, didn’t seem to agree.
It’d only been a couple of weeks since I’d met the man and already he was under my skin. Maybe I could use him to scratch the itch and then walk away?
Snorting to myself, I showered, got dressed, and hit the local coffee shop for two to-go cups. I knew going down this road—literally the bumpy ass driveway that led to Warrant’s ranch house—was dangerous. I wasn’t the type to eat one square of chocolate and put the rest of the bar away for enjoyment later.
Nope. I ate the majority of my Halloween candy in the first couple of days as a kid—except the nasty stuff which would sit there until I was desperate enough to try it again—didn’t matter how bad of a stomach ache I ended up with. This was going to be the same.
“Turn around,” I muttered.
I didn’t turn around.
Putting the Tahoe into park, I heaved a sigh and continued with my plan of stupidity. I grabbed the coffees and shut my door with my hip.
Warrant’s front door opened as I walked up. He had no shirt on as he leaned against the door frame and watched me approach.
Wow.
The man was ripped. Not like those huge, bulky guys who spend every minute in the gym and do actual competitions. But he had muscle everywhere. And tattoos. They were all over as well. My eyes slid from one to the next as I walked up his steps.
“Morning,” he said.
His voice was all deep and gravelly. I’d woken him up. I could tell by the sleepiness in those blue eyes and that rough voice.
“Morning.” I held up the coffee cup. “Thought you might like a cup.”
He took it from me, studied it, then took a drink. Surprise flashed over his face when he realized it was pure black coffee. He eyed my cup. “You have the same in there?”
“Nope,” I replied with a grin. “Mine has a bunch of sugar in it.”
“Ruined it,” he muttered, then stepped aside.
I brushed past him, my heart skipping a beat as I stepped into his house. Looking around, I studied the space. It looked like a guy lived here. No pictures on the wall. No plants. Just some furniture and that was about it.
Just like his parent’s place, the door opened into the kitchen and dining room. I was certain the table and chairs and probably any other furniture he had was chosen by his mother. It all matched, which was a dead giveaway.
I hadn’t done much decorating at my house yet, but it was enough that if someone robbed the place they’d know a person was living there. I’d gotten myself a little plant just a couple days ago. I was in talks with a local rancher about a puppy. I needed some company.
Speaking of company.
Turning, I found Warrant watching me. There was a predatory look in his eyes, but he was drinking his coffee and keeping his hands to himself. If I saw that look on a suspect, I’d be prepared to draw down and shoot them. Seeing it in his eyes, I wanted to run, just to see if he’d chase me.
Beau, Warrant’s hound dog, walked up and nudged my hand with his massive head. He yawned, clearly willing to forgive me for waking him if I provided him with obligatory head scratches. I scrubbed my short nails behind one ear, then the next. I smiled when he grumbled in appreciation.
“Pretty early for a house call, Sheriff,” Warrant finally said, breaking the silence in the room and pulling my attention back to him.
He and Beau shared disgruntled looks until the dog eventually wandered away.
“Sorry about that,” I told him.
He set the coffee down on his table and stalked toward me. “Something on your mind?”
I swallowed. It was now or never. Did I have the courage to ask for what I wanted? Ugh. I should. I was a grown woman. A sheriff. I could ask for sex if I wanted to.
Just do it, Ains.
“I-”
He stopped in front of me. Close enough to touch, though he didn’t, and crossed his arms over his chest. He had to know why I was here. Right? Judging off the interest in his eyes and the smirk on his face he knew. But he wasn’t going to make the first move. He’d done that last night and I’d shot him down.
