Page 10 of Lone Star Country Protector
Blakely stared at him. Her expression stopped him midsentence. “You’re right, though. We had an agenda that weekend that had nothing to do with getting to know each other. No use getting twisted up about the past.”
“Fresh start?” he asked, hoping she’d accept the verbal peace offering.
Blakely studied him. Those eyes piercing right through him. It took a helluva lot to unnerve Dalton. The judge’s accomplishment didn’t go unnoticed.
“Okay,” she said with reluctance in her voice as she set two wine glasses down in front of him. “Do you mind pouring?” She held up shaky hands. “I have serious doubts about my ability to steady my hands enough to get the wine in the glasses.” The moment of vulnerability that flashed behind her eyes shouldn’t warm his heart. What the hell did it know? It had him itching to reach out and take her hands in his, offer comfort that wasn’t part of this assignment. His mission was to keep the judge safe and alive until the perp was caught.
“Not a problem,” he answered. After the glasses were filled, she offered water or juice.
“Water’s good,” he said, thinking a cold beer would be better. Not an option under the circumstances, but better nonetheless. This also seemed like a good time to pepper her with questions while her sister was upstairs putting Chase to bed.
Blakely nodded as she moved to the cabinet to retrieve a glass. Her hip bumped into him as she passed by. Again, he had to ignore his body’s reaction to the beautiful and intelligent judge. “Do you have any idea who might want to harm you?”
“A better question might be who doesn’t,” she said with a frustrated sigh.
“Are you in a relationship?” he asked. He’d glanced at her ring finger the second he’d seen her again. At one point, he’d half convinced himself she must be married, but that was just his ego coming up with more excuses as to why she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
“No.”
“Ended one recently?” he continued as he did his level best to convince himself this line of questioning was for professional purposes only.
Blakely stood at the fridge with her back to him, filling his glass with the waterspout on the door. The water stopped mid-fill. “No.” Her voice was low and a little too calm. “Unless you count that weekend.”
“Nope,” he said a little too quickly. “I don’t think it qualifies as more than damn good—”
“He’s asleep,” Bethany said as she hit the last couple of stairs leading into the kitchen.
Dalton had no idea why Blakely would want to live in a house of this size alone.Leave it alone, Dalt.Her reason was her own business. Maybe she intended to start a family soon. Dalton involuntarily shivered at the thought as he joined Blakely at the fridge, fighting the urge to loosen his collar. She handed over the water glass three-quarters of the way full.
For a split second, he thought having a family with someone like her might not be a death sentence.
Hold on there, Dalt.He banished the thought. Not yet thirty years old, he had plenty of time to think about tying the knot in the future. No reason to rush it now, especially because he still lived with the mental scars from his parents.
Had his mother’s disappearing act not long after his birth given him mommy issues? He didn’t need a psychologist to confirm what he already knew. Yes. Being rejected by your mother not long after you were born did that to a person. Not to mention the fact she never once looked back. The woman could be dead for all he knew. One thing was certain. There was no reason to continue those bad genes or dump them on some unsuspecting kiddo. Dalton’s father might have been a good person. Hell, Dalton had been tooyoung to make the determination himself, so he relied on his siblings and cousins. They were convinced the man was close to sainthood. Dalton hoped it was true for their sakes. As for him? He’d learned to depend on himself so he didn’t and wouldn’t need anyone else.
“Good,” Blakely said, clearing her throat. It was then he realized she’d been watching him while he’d been lost in thought. “He’s been through a lot tonight. I hope the whole thing doesn’t leave too many scars.”
Dalton knew about those. Too well?
* * *
Blakely could feelher cheeks turn crimson as she looked at Dalton, so she forced her gaze from the gorgeous lawman standing in her kitchen and refocused on her sister.
“I know whatever happened isn’t your fault,” her sister said, cutting into her thoughts. “So please, start from the beginning and tell me exactly what I’m dealing with here.”
Blakely gave the elevator version of the attack.
“Ohmygod, Blakely.” Her sister cut across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so sorry. All I thought about was Chase. I didn’t even consider how awful this whole attack must have been for you.”
Bethany’s body was shaking.
“You must have been terrified,” her sister continued. “Especially after all you’ve been through.”
Blakely cleared her throat a little louder this time as she hugged her sister. “The past is the past. We don’t need to get into any of that now.” But it was too late. The hunk of a marshal stood halfway across the room, his gaze fixed on her, questions dancing in his eyes. “Besides, I’m much more worried about the impact this might have on Chase.”
“Kids are more resilient than we give them credit for sometimes,” Bethany said in a moment of wisdom beyondher years. Her sister could come across as borderline ditzy at times, but then she would say something profound, revealing a deeper side to her.
“That might be true,” Blakely conceded, not ready to let herself off the hook for the whole ordeal. “But I hate the fact I couldn’t protect him.” She couldn’t go there with questions about what might have happened to Chase if she hadn’t fought off her attacker.
