The Sheriff’s Christmas Surprise Read online

  “Why didn’t you take the umbrella?” she asked.

  The shrug was dismissive and careless. “It would have just held me up.”

  It was a lie and they both knew it. He’d left it with her in hopes that it would keep her relatively dry. Apparently chivalry was not dead, at least not in Forever, Texas. She didn’t realize she was smiling.

  Shifting in her seat and looking at his profile, she could barely make it out in the encroaching darkness and rain. “Where do you go every day?”

  That struck him as an odd question. The most logical answer would have been to say “to Pine Ridge,” but she wasn’t simpleminded. He could tell that she assumed he didn’t hang around town.

  “When?”

  “When you drop me off at the hospital. You never stay,” she pointed out, not that he was under any obligation to stay with her. “Do you go visit friends, or…?” She let her voice trail off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

  “Or…” Rick responded, his lips curving in amusement.

  Reaching over to the side, he turned on the rear window defroster and switched on the window defogger. The windshield was clouding up. Impatient, he wiped the mist away with the palm of his hand. It didn’t exactly improve visibility.

  “Or,” she repeated. “And that would be?” Olivia pressed, waiting.

  “I go back to Forever and deal with whatever comes up during the day,” he told her simply.

  The heater wasn’t helping all that much. Visibility was going from bad to worse. He slowed the car down to a crawl.

  She must have missed something, Olivia thought. Good Samaritans were only found in Bible passages and movies of the week. “You drive all the way over here, drop me off then drive back and in the evening you repeat the whole process all over again?”

  He slanted her an amused look, sparing only a second. The road needed his undivided attention. “Nothing gets by you, does it?”

  “Why?”

  “Why doesn’t anything get by you?” he speculated as to the nature of her question. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because you’re sharp.”

  She wanted answers. She desperately wanted clarity for a change. And he was having fun at her expense. “Don’t mock me, Rick, you know what I mean. Why are you going out of your way like this for me?”

  He would have thought that it was evident. But then, life in a large city tended to make people suspicious of random acts of kindness. He spelled it out for her.

  “Because your car’s dead in Mick Henley’s garage and your sister’s in a coma in Pine Ridge Memorial and you have no way to get there,” he said.

  “Yes, but none of that is your problem. It’s mine.”

  “While you’re in my town, I see it differently.”

  Olivia watched him for a long moment as the windshield wipers rhythmically dueled with the wind-driven rain that crashed against the windshield. They were equally matched.

  “Thank you,” she finally managed to say. “I don’t know if I remembered to tell you, but I’m very grateful to you for everything you’ve done for Bobby and me—and my sister.”

  Taking credit always made him feel awkward. Taking credit that wasn’t due him only made it that much worse. “Didn’t do anything for your sister except manage to locate her,” he said.

  He was taking modesty to a whole new level. The people she associated with in the firm would have torn him apart in a matter of moments. “But don’t you understand? That was the important part. I wouldn’t have found Tina if not for you.”

  “You would have found her,” he guaranteed. “You’re too stubborn not to.”

  Whatever she was going to say in response was swallowed up as they suddenly hit what felt like a giant pothole or, in this case, just a plain hole in the ground. The car listed to the right, her side dropping about half a foot. Olivia screamed as she slammed against the door.

  “We’re fine, we’ll be fine,” Rick insisted, raising his voice above the howl of the wind so that she could hear him.

  His forearms strained and then ached as he hung on to the steering wheel, fighting for control of the vehicle. It swerved, sliding first one way, then the other as he tried to compensate.

  Struggling, he finally managed to get them beyond the sinkhole and to the side of the road. He pulled over and stopped to catch his breath.

  “Do you charge extra for that?” Olivia quipped, trying to sound unfazed as she waited for her heart to stop racing.

  “No extra charge,” he told her.

  The rain continued to get worse as they drove on. Rick began to talk, trying to take her mind off what was going on beyond the windshield, but it was futile. Visibility had gone to practically zero.

  He blew out a long breath. “I think we’re going to have to stop somewhere for the night. If the rain keeps up like this, I might wind up driving off the road again, or into some swollen creek.”

  As it was, the rain was seeping into the car via the doors. The floor had already accumulated half an inch of water and it promised to only get worse. “Is there anywhere out here to stop?” Olivia asked skeptically. She didn’t remember seeing a hotel.

  Rick glanced at the car’s navigational system. For now, it was still working, but he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to say that. He hit the square that said “hotels.” Only one name and address popped up. It barely qualified.

  “There’s this run-down motel about two miles from here. It doesn’t look like much, but the rooms have got roofs and it’s a place to stay dry while waiting for the storm to break, or for morning, whichever comes first.” He glanced in her direction. “From the looks of it, some of the roads going back home are going to be flooded. They tend to flood when it really rains hard,” he explained, then began to drive again, going very slowly. “Staying at The Sunshine Inn’s going to be our best bet.”

  “IF THIS IS THE BEST BET, I’d hate to see the worst,” Olivia commented some twenty minutes later, after she’d called Miss Joan to explain that they were temporarily delayed until morning and the desk clerk, a tired little man with sleepy eyes, had handed them the keys to the last available vacant room. According to what he told them, stranded travelers had flocked to the motel, the only port in the storm for miles around. His drooping eyelids covered eyes that came close to lighting up as he referred to the fact that this was the first time since he had taken over as manager that every room in the motel was rented.

  The last available vacant room was the picture of neglect. The first thing Olivia noticed was the dust. It had gathered and formed a thin layer across the scarred dark bureau and on both the head and footboards of the double bed.

  The bed was the second thing she noticed. There was only one.

  And there were two of them.

  Rick saw the concern on her face as she regarded the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the floor,” he told her. Since there was no sofa or even an upholstered chair in the room, that left only the floor for him to stretch out on. He supposed that it was a step up from camping.

  Olivia was shaking her head. “No, that’s not fair,” she told him. “I’ve put you out enough. You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.” It was the only decent thing to do, she thought.

  The threadbare carpet was peeling back in places and looked far from sanitary. The bed at least appeared clean, Rick judged.

  “Look, we’re both adults. No reason we can’t share a bed,” he told her. He saw the leery expression in her eyes. “One of us stays under the covers, the other sleeps on top of them. Good enough?” he asked.

  If she protested, she knew he was going to think that sex was foremost on her mind and it wasn’t—at least, not exactly. Left with no choice, Olivia nodded, and echoed, “Good enough,” and went to see how bad the bathroom was.

  She discovered that it was surprisingly clean, under the circumstances. There was even a set of bath towels that looked as if they’d been recently purchased. The pile still felt relatively fluffy.


  “I’m going to take a quick shower,” she said, sticking her head out of the bathroom. “Unless you want to go first.”

  He declined, saying, “I take my showers in the morning.”

  Ordinarily, so did she, but she was tense and wet from the rain. Knots the size of small boulders resided in her shoulders and she hoped a hot shower would help undo them.

  “I’ll be right out,” she promised.

  “Take your time. We’re not going anywhere,” he answered.

  Olivia went in and closed the bathroom door. He heard the click as she turned the lock. Definitely not a trusting woman, he thought. And in this case, maybe it was just as well. She surely represented temptation. His reaction to her all along had been a surprise to him. He hadn’t been more than fleetingly attracted to a woman since he’d lost Alycia. And he meant fleetingly. As in a matter of minutes at best.

  This, he had to admit, was something different. So having a locked door between them when she was showering wasn’t the worst idea.

  Looking for a diversion, Rick turned on the antiquated TV set that just barely fit on the wobbly cart. As he flipped from one channel to another, he found himself watching either static or snow. Or nothing. Apparently the weather had dealt a fatal blow to the reception in the area. Bracing himself for a long, drawn-out evening, he shut off the TV.

  Just in time to hear the bloodcurdling scream coming from the bathroom.

  Olivia.

  He had his gun out immediately.

  “Olivia, are you all right?” he shouted through the door.

  When all he got was another scream in reply, he tried the doorknob. It wouldn’t give. But the door itself was just barely mounted in its frame, a victim of age and time and perhaps a few rowdy parties. Rick kicked it in on his first try.

  The water in the shower stall was running full blast, the shower stall door hanging open. Olivia had jumped out right after her first scream. She was dripping wet, trembling and completely heart-stoppingly naked.

  And then he saw why she’d screamed and run out of the stall.

  There was a rat in the stall and at first glance, the rodent looked to be just a shade smaller than a miniature pony.

  As if aware of his audience, the rat ran out of the stall and scurried over in Olivia’s direction. Jumping back, she screamed for a third time.

  Wanting to stop the rat before it reached Olivia, Rick looked around for something to hit it with. There was nothing. He did the only thing he could. Taking aim, he shot the rat.

  Stifling a scream, Olivia began to sob. She was still trembling. Ordinarily, she would have held together, but the encounter with the rat had been the catalyst, the proverbial final straw. Everything that she had been struggling with to keep under wraps, to keep bottled up inside her just came pouring out.

  Confronted by this gut-twisting pain and anguish, Rick did what anyone else would have done. He did what came naturally. Murmuring words meant to soothe, he took Olivia into his arms to reassure her and to offer her comfort.

  “It’s okay,” he said, repeating the two words over and over again like a healing mantra. “It’s okay. The rat’s dead. He can’t get at you anymore.” Holding her close to him, acutely aware that only one of them was dressed, he tried not to allow his mind to make the most of that input. Instead, he focused on what had transpired and what needed to be ascertained. “Did he bite you?”

  “No.”

  Rick was afraid she might have gone into shock, but he couldn’t very well begin a detailed exam, searching her body for bite marks. All he could do was press home the point. “Are you sure?”

  Shaken, she nodded. “I’m sure.”

  He felt the words vibrating into his shoulder, accompanied by warm breath that seemed to brand his very skin.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia apologized, in between the sobs she was trying to stifle. “I don’t usually fall apart like this. It was just a stupid rat. But he climbed right into the stall and his face was inches from mine and I—I—”

  She couldn’t stop sobbing. Very gently, Rick stroked her hair, telling her over and over again that it was all right, that she’d had a lot to deal with and it wasn’t the rat that she was crying about, but everything else.

  “But it’s going to be all right. I promise.”

  The words he said got to her. They made her feel defenseless and vulnerable. And yet, at the same time, they made her feel safe, because he understood, understood maybe better than she did what she was going through.

  She clung to him, trying to hang on to his strength, trying desperately to get her own back.

  And then somehow, somewhere in the middle of the sobs and the soothing words, she lost herself.

  Looking back later, Olivia wouldn’t be able to say with any certainty just what steps came next and who really was responsible for what.

  One moment, she was crying her heart out, damning her poor self-control for breaking down this way. The next moment, she’d turned up her face to his and found herself kissing him.

  Or maybe he was kissing her.

  Whichever way it started, several seconds into it they were kissing each other. Kissing with a passion and a longing that both surprised and frightened her even as she reveled in the feel of it. Reveled in the wondrous heat that the kiss was generating. It flowed to every part of her starting from the center on out.

  She felt alive and vibrant for the first time in years.

  Olivia clung to him, digging her fingers into his shoulders as if to reassure herself that he was real, that this was happening. As the kiss grew, deepening, making her feel as if she was sinking inside of it, she became completely disoriented and lost. But it was a good lost. At least for now.

  Damn it, what the hell was he doing?

  He’d broken down the door and burst into the room to help her, thinking to possibly save her from whatever had made her scream like that. He hadn’t come running to the rescue like that simply to have his own turn with her. He had no intention of taking advantage of her.

  The woman was naked. And he had seen every single magnificent curve, even as he went to offer her comfort.

  Offer her comfort, he silently jeered. He should be giving her something to put on, not draping her on himself as if she were some sort of human shirt.

  What the hell was the matter with him? What was he thinking?

  That was just the problem, he realized. He wasn’t thinking, wasn’t thinking at all, just feeling and reacting. And savoring one of the sweetest kisses, one of the sultriest bodies he had ever come across in his thirty-one years on this planet.

  Let go of her, damn it. Let go of her.

  But he couldn’t.

  Not when everything inside of him had suddenly gone on tactical alert, responding to the incredible stimuli he had right before him.

  He could feel himself losing ground. Giving in by inches. Giving in to the attraction that had been building within him ever since he’d first seen Olivia come striding into Miss Joan’s diner, fire in her eyes and all but literally loaded for bear.

  There was no excuse for what he was doing. No excuse for savoring her kiss, her nearness. No excuse for holding on to her so tightly, feeling her body heat penetrate his own.

  Anger and disappointment struggled for possession of him, trying to wrench the thin strands of control away from the rest of him. The part that didn’t have the same moral code as he had been instilled with, obviously.

  And he discovered that the longer the kiss went on, the more he wanted to build on the emotion that it kicked up. Build on it and make love with this woman who’d come into his life out of the blue like an unexpected hurricane.

  Being with her here in this fleabag of a motel, kissing her and feeling the burn from within only served to remind him just how very empty his life had become.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rick honestly had no idea where he ultimately found the inner resolve and strength, but he did and he was able to force himself to pull back before anyth
ing happened.

  Pausing for a moment to pull himself together, he made sure that he looked only into Olivia’s eyes when he spoke to her. If he looked elsewhere, the words just wouldn’t come out. The woman’s body left him all but completely speechless.

  He nodded his head toward the towel rack. “Maybe you should put a towel on.”

  Had she done something wrong? Why was he backing away?

  Embarrassed, horribly uncomfortable, Olivia tried to cover by resorting to a wisecrack. “I would have expected you to ask me to put on high heels, not a towel.”

  The image of Olivia, her supple body completely nude except for a pair of black stilettos nearly made him swallow his own tongue. He could feel the heat rushing over his body, the almost insurmountable desire to pull her back into his arms and lose himself in her all over again. That he didn’t, that he held himself in check, made him superhuman.

  “I’m sorry,” she began, quickly reaching for the lone towel that hung on the rack.

  But as she pulled the towel to her, the rack, barely attached to the wall by badly rusted screws, came flying away and fell to the floor. It landed within a hairbreadth from her foot, and would have hit her if she hadn’t jumped. But that threw her off balance and she wound up bumping up against Rick.

  Instincts had him closing his arms around her to keep Olivia upright.

  And then they were back to square one, with his hormones raging, begging for release. The scent in her hair filled his head, further lowering his resistance. “You know, there’s only so many times that I can pull away,” he told her.

  Olivia turned around in the circle of his arms, facing him, her body tingling. Eager. She had to know. “Why do you want to pull away?”

  “Want to?” he echoed incredulously. “Is that what you think? I don’t want to,” he assured her. “I’m doing it for you. I don’t want you making a mistake.”