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Authors: Christie Craig

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #FIC027010, #Suspense, #Adult, #Erotica, #Women Sleuths

Don't Mess With Texas (33 page)

BOOK: Don't Mess With Texas
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“I’ll call you.” He left for the office.

Nikki watched him leave. Her heart started racing. Had she just agreed to go out to dinner with him?

Yup, she had. But that wasn’t the reason her heart was stuck in high gear. She knew if she went to dinner with him, if he brought her back here and made the tiniest advance on her, she’d be his for the taking. And maybe he didn’t even have to make that advance, maybe she’d make it. Look how close she’d come to walking into his bedroom last night.

Would that really have been a bad thing? Wasn’t everyone, Ellen, even her grandmother, constantly telling her she needed to stop taking life so seriously and just have some fun? Okay, her life was a screwed-up mess right now, but if she could just view this as something to help get her through a crisis, would that be so wrong?

Nikki looked down at Bud and dropped her butt on the sofa. The dog crawled up in her lap and nuzzled her neck.

I’m not asking for forever
. Dallas’s words whispered through her head. And that was fine. She didn’t want forever. Frankly, she didn’t know if she even believed in forever anymore.

Nikki took the dog’s head in her hands and looked square in his big wrinkly face. “What should I do, Bud? Is it time I stop living on the cautious side and start playing with fire?”

He licked her face.

She pulled the big lug of a dog closer. “Will I get burned to a crisp? Or just singed a little bit? Because if it’s just singed, it might be worth it.”

“What did you do to her?” Dallas demanded as he walked into the office.

Tyler, sitting at his desk, ducked his head. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Austin laughed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “You’re just lucky she didn’t Mace your ass.”

“Spill it,” Dallas said, stepping closer to Tyler.

“Oh, quit worrying.” Austin smirked. “He did you a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Dallas asked Tyler.

“I thought it was you. She was under the covers.” Tyler wiped a hand over his mouth as if to hide his smile.

“And?” Dallas asked.

“I might have mentioned something about you not getting lucky even though you were hung like a racehorse.” Both Tyler and Austin belted out laughter.

Dallas couldn’t help laughing, too. He dropped down in his desk chair and looked at Austin. “I’m sorry you got Maced.”

Austin blinked his still-red eyes. “The Mace is nothing compared to the whole Roxie issue.”

“What happened?” Dallas asked.

“She called me last night and asked me to go to her brother’s wedding.” He raked a hand through his hair. “A wedding invitation is like dinner with the parents.”

Tyler snorted. “She has the hots for you. And let me tell you, I’d crawl under her skirt any day of the week.”

“She’s not my type,” Austin snapped. “She cleans up body parts.”

Dallas got the feeling that the truth was just the opposite. Roxie was too much Austin’s type. The girl reminded Dallas a lot of Austin’s ex-fiancée, Cara. Which meant Austin was afraid that he might actually like Roxie. Which also meant Austin was doing just what Dallas was doing—staying
away from women he thought he’d have a hard time walking away from. Pure lust, no emotional attachment.

That’s what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

So what the hell was he doing toying with the idea of getting close to Nikki Hunt?

She had emotional attachment written all over her soft body and sassy smile. Even worse, she made him wish… Oh hell, no!

Dallas took a deep breath.
One damn day at a time
. He repeated the words in his head like a litany and then glanced over at Tyler. “Does your cousin still do that interior design stuff?”

“Which cousin? I’ve got like fifty.”

“The one who offered to get furniture and decorate my place.”

“Oh, Estella. Yeah, she’s still doing it.”

“See if she can get me a new sofa. Today.”

Tyler started typing on his computer keyboard. “What kind of sofa?”

“Comfortable. It can be pink as long as it’s comfortable to sleep on and here in my living room by this afternoon. And tell her to take the one that’s in there when she leaves.”

“Done,” Tyler said, hitting one final key.

“Good,” Dallas said. “Let’s get to business. What’s going on with Roberto?”

All traces of humor faded from Tyler’s face. “He’s coming by to grab the cash this afternoon.”

“How much?” Dallas asked.

“He’s not sure what he’ll need. I offered five thousand, and we may have to buy that much in drugs to get them to talk to us.”

“Do we have enough in the business account to cover it?”

“Yup, thanks to our resident clown.” Tyler glanced at Austin. “Mrs. Mallard mailed us a nice little check.”

“Did you call Nance and tell him to meet me here this morning?”

“He said he’d be here by nine. But he wasn’t happy about making another trip to the police station.”

“You explained this was to help him?” Dallas looked at his watch. He had an hour.

“Yup. Still wasn’t happy. But he said he’d be here. I’m still waiting to hear back from Nance’s attorney. It may be Monday before we can get in.”

“Just make it as soon as possible. After I take Nance to see Tony, I’m going to the restaurant and see if I can find out who served Jack Leon his poisoned gumbo. Then I’ve got an appointment at Brian and Sterns myself to talk about Serena’s custody battle over Bud. Hopefully, someone will give me something about Jack Leon or Andrew Brian.”

“You going to let them know you’re working on the Leon case?” Tyler asked.

“What they don’t know can’t hurt them.” Dallas picked up a pen and rolled it between his palms. “Did you get anything else on Andrew Brian?”

“Just that he got into some trouble the first year in college. Drug trouble.”

“How bad was it?”

“Don’t know. I discovered it through an old newspaper clipping. Daddy got him off.”

“That’s the one kind of trouble that has a tendency to follow people. See if you can find anything on him having a drug habit now.”

Austin put his empty coffee cup on his desk. “I’m going to hit the streets and see if I can uncover any more DeLuna deals in the making. I got a tip there’s a new guy hanging out at the pool hall off Jefferson.”

“You don’t trust Roberto to keep us abreast?” Tyler asked.

“Yes. But why not do a little legwork myself?”

“Be careful,” Dallas said.

Austin grinned. “I’m always careful.”

Tyler laughed. “Which explains how you got Maced.”

“If I don’t get anywhere, I was going to snoop around Jack Leon’s place and see if any of the neighbors are talkative. Maybe find out who he’s been banging lately. I’m still betting this revolves around some woman.”

“Good idea.” Dallas looked at Tyler. “You got any new questions?”

“Just one,” he said. “How come you two got women hanging all over you, and I don’t? I mean it’s obvious I’m the better-looking one.”

“That’s, easy.” Austin wadded up a scrap piece of paper and tossed it at Tyler. “It’s because we’re both hung like racehorses.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
 
 

F
IVE MINUTES LATER
, after snagging a doughnut, Dallas wondered if Nikki might have changed her mind about breakfast. Remembering how he ran out on her, he put the last chocolate-covered doughnut on a plate and took it to Nikki as a peace offering.

He stepped into his apartment and heard Nikki moan. She stood, holding on to the living room chair, one foot held up in the air.

“What is it?” he asked.

She grimaced. “Glass.”

“Shit. How bad?” He dropped the doughnut on the coffee table and knelt beside her.

“It’s nothing. Just hurts when I walk on it.”

He wrapped his hand around her ankle and stared at the bottom of her foot. “No blood.” He ran a finger down the arch. Even the woman’s foot was soft. “Where’s it at?”

“The heel.” She looked over her shoulder and down at him. “You see it?”

“No. But the light’s bad in here.” He stood and scooped her into his arms.

“Whoa.” She pressed a hand on his chest. “What are you doing?”

As he started down the hall, he remembered picking her up in the hospital and passing a hand over her bare ass. Something told him she was thinking about that, too. “Carting you off to my bedroom to play doctor.” He grinned. “What I wanted to do last night.” Damn, she felt good in his arms, light and feminine.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He pushed the door open with his foot and Bud followed. “The light’s better in the bedroom and I have tweezers in here.”

“You didn’t have to carry me.”

“You said it hurt when you walked.” Leaning down, he placed her on his bed. Bracing himself on one knee, and bracketing his arms on each side of her, he stared at her. “You look good in my bed.” Grinning, and supporting himself with one arm, he decided the no-touching rule was null and passed a hand over her cheek. “Let me gather my supplies.”

He ran to the bathroom to snag the alcohol and cotton balls, and then came back into the bedroom for his tweezers and a needle. She watched him. And he, her. The short time with her in his arms had gotten his blood singing.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” She pushed up on one elbow.

“I was trained by the best.” He sat down and brought her foot into his lap. “My brother and I hated wearing shoes. Mom was constantly getting splinters out of our feet.”

“How long ago did she pass away?” she asked in a soft voice.

“About eleven months ago.” He saw a flash of sympathy in her eyes.

“While you were in prison, right? She’s the person you were talking about last night.”

“Yeah.” Leaning over, he opened the blinds for more light and held up her foot to study it. “I think I see it.” He lowered her foot, dipped the tweezers and needle in the alcohol then splashed some on her heel. Gently running his hand over her ankle, he said, “It might hurt a bit. Do you need a bullet to bite on?”

“I think I can handle it.” She smiled hesitantly. “But… hurt me too bad, and I’ll kick you in the teeth. These are lethal weapons.” She wiggled her toes.

“Thanks for the warning.” He brushed a finger over the tip of her pink-painted toenails then passed the tweezers over the tiny cut. When she didn’t flinch, he knew the glass had gone too deep to get it with the tweezers. Frowning, he reached for the needle.

“Hold still.” He slipped the needle inside the cut. She flinched. “Sorry.”

“I know.” She dropped back on his bed and fisted handfuls of his blanket in her palms. “Just do it.”

He pushed the needle to the side of the cut until he touched glass. She hissed. He hated hurting her, but he had to do it. He went deeper with the needle so he could force out the sliver. She hissed again, but didn’t pull away. “Almost done.” He saw the sliver of glass pop out. “I got it.” He set the needle on the bedside table.

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?” Still holding her foot, he pressed a kiss on her ankle.

“Terrible,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Now, tell me if you still feel the glass.” Running
his fingernail across the cut, he watched her face. “No pain?”

“No. I think you got it.” She started to pull her foot away.

“Not so fast. I have to pour alcohol over it. And then the important part.”

She rose on her elbow again. “What’s the important part?”

He grinned. “Blow on it.”

Her eyes brightened with humor. “You’re gonna give me a blow job?”

He chuckled, admiring her daring sense of humor. Before he realized what he was doing, he brushed his hand under her pajamas and up her calf. The loose fit of her pants allowed plenty of room. Slowly brushing his hand back to her ankle, he picked up the alcohol and splashed a little on her foot.

“Ouch!”

He brought her foot to his lips and gently blew on it. Still propped up on one elbow, she met his gaze with hers and held it.

“Feel good?” His hand slipped up her leg again.

“Yeah.” Heat flickered in her big blue eyes. Caught in her gaze, he pressed his lips to the side of her ankle again. “Is there any part of you that isn’t soft?”

She didn’t answer. His hand moved up her leg again. Noting the lack of stubble, he wondered if she’d shaved her legs for him. Anticipation set his blood afire and had his dick thickening.

She leaned back on his bed, but didn’t stop staring at him.

“Soft feet. Soft legs.” When she didn’t pull away, he moved his hand higher, past the back of her knee.

She closed her eyes. Braver, he slipped his hand higher. The smoothness of her thigh took his breath away, and he heard her breath catch. She swiped her tongue across her lips. Her eyes remained closed and he noticed her nipples were tight and pebbled under her soft cotton top. Slowly, he reached his hand higher, inches from the treasure between her legs. He waited for her to tell him to stop, to catch his hand. She didn’t.

BOOK: Don't Mess With Texas
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