Sin With Cuffs (9 page)

Holly looked at him and one brow popped up. “How?”

“Your mother came to see me after she left Mason’s office.”

“Then you already knew what Grandma’s will stated,” she said.

“Vicki didn’t talk to me about the details, except that Doris had betrayed her in the will,” he said.

He paused when the server brought their coffee. “Thank you, Danielle,” he said to her. The girl gave him a sheepish smile before leaving the table.

Holly stirred cream and sugar into the cup then she asked him, “So this wasn’t a friendly invite for coffee? You have something you want to tell me?”

He looked down into the steam rising from his own cup. In truth, he’d wanted to see her, but couldn’t quite admit that out loud. “She came to the office and tried to convince me that if I cared for you I’d make you to leave this town.”

“She thinks I don’t have a mind of my own.”

“Don’t let her get to you. She’s like the devil calculating her next move.” Sipping the strong brew, he felt the burn as it slid down. His blood needed the boost of caffeine. “She didn’t get anywhere with me.”

“Grandma was clever and her mind was still as sharp as a tack. She could make her own choices too. Anyway, my mother believes you still have feelings for me and I’d advise you to tell her that you despise me, but in my mother’s sick twisted way she relates hate to love.”

“Is that what you think? That I despise you?” He watched her as several expressions flitted across her face.

The intensity in her gaze made his heart skip. “Don’t you, Lem? In a small way?”

“No, I don’t. I’ll admit that my heart was broken when you left, but everything happens for a reason. Hell, you and I could be married now with a couple of rug rats.” Her shocked look made him smile. “Yeah, you’re thinking what I’m thinking. You and I would have driven each other crazy first. What sort of life would that be?” he said.

“I—”

The bell above the door chimed. Liam turned his attention around and gave the older man a wave in greeting. “Hey, John.”

“Hello there, Liam. How’s life treating you?”

“I can’t complain,” Liam answered.

The aged man kept his grey gaze steady on Holly, but Liam doubted John would remember her, if he could even see her from across the room. Liam noticed that Holly didn’t make a move to reintroduce herself to the older man who she used to visit regularly to help him with his farm animals. In fact, she turned her cheek and stared out the window. He found her disconnection odd. He wondered if she’d heard the newest rumor that they were sleeping together. Hell, he didn’t give a damn. People would believe what they wanted.

“You always said you wanted kids.” Her voice was soft.

“I did, but I guess it wasn’t meant to happen.” A pain rippled across his chest. He’d wondered what it’d be like to have a boy who enjoyed the things he liked, or a daughter who called him daddy.

“You’re young. Don’t count your chances gone yet.” She drained her cup.

“Want another?” he asked.

“I better not.”

He emptied his own cup. “After the funeral I went back to your house and had a look outside. I did find something suspicious.”

Her chin slanted. “You did?”

“I found a print along the south side of the house, underneath the kitchen window. I believe the marking was made by a boot, possibly a construction boot.”

Her eyes narrowed. “A boot print? I
told
you someone was at my house.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s a partial print. I can’t even get a size. It could be anyone’s footprint,” he said in disappointment.

“The south side is next to the garage. The security light on the street corner isn’t bright enough. I should probably get another installed in the yard.”

“That’s a good idea.” He lowered his voice as he said the next words, “By the obvious wearing in the mud I’d say it’s a fresh print. I looked after the brick incident and I’m sure it wasn’t there. I’d examined that area very well.”

“And that’s all—only one partial print?” She laid her palms onto the table.

“I took a mold, but with only half, I don’t think it’ll do much good,” he said. He hated seeing her unhappy.

 “Did my grandma have any trouble with prowlers?”

“Not even once. Everyone in town knew she owned a gun and wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”

“Are you suggesting that I should find that gun?” Her brows came together.

He smiled and guessed she was feisty enough to shoot someone. “I don’t think we need to go that far yet. I’d hate for you to injure yourself.”

“Very funny. You know I learned how to handle a firearm long before you did. Grandma told me to shoot first and ask questions later.”

The spirited gene pool of Doris Young definitely didn’t skip Holly’s blood. “If I was your grandma, I would have told you to aim for one of three places: the head, the heart or the crotch. Any of those three are sure to kill or slow down an intruder. However, you can’t just shoot someone. There are laws in using a gun as protection. As chief, I’d suggest you call me if you have any trouble.”

“So you can help make the shooting look like an accident?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He wondered if she were only joking, but he had a feeling she was serious. “I can’t legally advise you to shoot someone.”

“Do you intend on coming to my rescue every time something happens?” Her face softened. “It seems it’s becoming a nightly ritual.”

“If you call, I’ll show up. You should know that.”

She leaned across the table until she was so close he could see the freckle in her right eye. “That almost sounds like an invitation.” Her words came out in a throaty whisper.

It probably
did
sound like an invite. He knew he should stop, but what was the harm in a little verbal play? It’d been a long time since he’d flirted with anyone and he found that he’d missed it—missed the easy banter he once shared with Holly. “Possibly,” he finally answered.

Her bottom lip puckered. Obviously, by her dazzling eyes, she enjoyed this too. “Mm. I’m a lucky woman to have a man in uniform at my beck and call.”

Drawn in, who’d blame him? A seductive woman like Holly couldn’t be ignored. “I’m good at my job. You can count on me.” Between the pounding of his heart and the rushing of blood as it raced to his cock, he had a hard time thinking, let alone talking.

“There’s more to that statement than meets the eye.” Her tongue swept across the curve of her upper lip and he swore he felt it across his tip. He guessed she did it on purpose. It didn’t matter; it’d gotten the same result either way.

Holly was a beautiful, sensual woman. He was a red-blooded man with cock memory. No other woman had ever felt like Holly, or affected him like she could. The thin black slacks he wore did nothing to hide his hard on. He shifted in the booth, glad the place was empty except for John, who couldn’t see without his glasses. The waitresses chatted away about something.

Holly was dangerous to his self-control. How could one woman wield sexuality like a sharp blade? If he played her game, he’d get cut, no doubt. Why didn’t that turn him off? Hell, it exhilarated him and he was at the point that he didn’t care if he walked away in shreds.

The connection manifested like a rushing waterfall, threatening to carry him to the ragged rocks below with possible fatal results. If he drowned, at least he’d go down a happy man.

His breath got lost in his lungs when he felt her foot touch his crotch. She had removed her shoe without him knowing.

“Ooh, what a big, hard gun you have there. I believe I may need your help.”

Hell, he’d like to help her now. “I’m all about using my gun and cuffs in the name of safety, or when the occasion arises.” His hard on wasn’t getting flaccid.

“You’ll have to show me one day soon.” She rolled her toes across his cock through the material. “I’d like to see how your pistol functions. If my memory serves me well, it’s got a steady trigger and strong shot.” Her chuckle was close to a moan.

Waves of longing blasted through him. There was nothing hotter than a woman who never had to play up her sexiness.

Sitting back against the vinyl cushion, he needed to stretch his legs, and his length. His boxers became confining. His radio buzzed and came alive with the dispatcher’s voice, “Chief, a call came in for the address of Doris Young. A report of vandalism.”

His gaze met Holly’s. Her eyes widened. “
My
house.”

He grabbed the radio and hit the talk button. “On my way.”

“Yes, sir.” The dispatcher responded.

“You can ride with me, Holly.”

His cock deflated at the speed of lightening, which was a good thing. He’d rather not tell Holly he needed a moment or two to loosen his pants. Sliding out of the booth, she followed him. Walking to the door proved difficult, but at least he didn’t give new meaning to uniform salute.

They got into his SUV and Liam looked across the seat at her. The trembling in her lower lip and the pale color of her skin made him wonder if she should ride along. “Are you up for this? You could stay here.”

She shook her head. “Not going to happen.”

“Didn’t think so.” He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

They pulled up in front of her house a few minutes later and she rushed out of the truck. Liam climbed out of the driver’s side and hurried after her.

“Doesn’t look like it has been vandalized,” Holly said as she stopped halfway up the yard.

At first, even Liam thought it looked as quiet and pristine as every other peaceful house lining the street. Then he saw it, about the same time as Holly because her sharp gasp snapped the air. On the side of the house where he’d seen the boot print, in large red spray painted letters, was the word “Tramp.”

He turned and looked at her. Disbelief crinkled the corners of her eyes and her hands fisted at her sides. Her gaze remained on the vandalized wall as she said, “Now do you believe that someone is targeting me?”

“I believe so,” he said. His gut tightened.

“Do you think now would be a good time to find the shotgun?”

* * * *

Anger made Holly’s body ache as she stared at the bold letters. “Who would do such a thing?”  She turned when she didn’t get an immediate response, and watched as Liam examined the area for evidence.

“I don’t know,” he said belatedly and shook his head. “Who still uses the word tramp? I haven’t heard it used since I was a kid.”

“Apparently someone.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat. “Great. More ammunition for townspeople to wag their tongues.”

“Give people credit. They’re going to see this for what it is.”

“I’m not as positive as you are,” she said.

He grabbed his cell and punched in a number. “Hey, Sal. I need you to do me a favor. Come over to the Young house and remove paint from the siding. Immediately. Thanks, pal.” There was a long hesitation and Liam’s apologetic gaze told her Sal liked to talk. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to the fishing trip but I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later.” He pushed his phone into his pocket. “Sal will be here within the hour.”

Holly tried to smile but she couldn’t even manage a fake one. “That takes care of one problem, but the core of the issue remains.” She touched the paint, it had dried. “Someone in this town sure has a lot of time, and paint, on their hands.”