The Green-Eyed Doll (28 page)

She pulled her nightshirt from the hook on the door and slipped it on before running a comb through her hair. When she opened the door, an unfamiliar noise stopped her. Damn, her nerves had calmed down. Now what? The house was dark except for the glow from the outside lights and her bedroom. Again. That sound. Could it be a soft snore? Tiptoeing down the hall, she peered around the corner, and her heart imploded. Wadded up into a ball on the small loveseat, Matt slept twisted as a pretzel. His boots and gun lay within reach.

She crept in and sat in the chair directly in front of him. The light array Emma had installed outside streamed through the white curtains and across his face. Strong legs ran up to narrow hips and waist. The peaks and valleys of his muscles couldn’t be masked by jeans and a T-shirt. He made her mouth water. God, he was beautiful. Catherine leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her protector was the last thing she remembered until his strong arms lifted her from the chair. Broad shoulders supported her head and a musky, masculine scent drifted into her senses. She snuggled against Matt’s warm neck while he carried her to her bed.

****

Sunday, September 3rd, 11:00 a.m.

Matt bit back a groan as he tried stretching the kinks from his back. Catherine’s loveseat wasn’t built for someone his size. A glance at his watch said he was already behind on the day. He eased down the hall far enough to see Catherine had kicked her covers to the floor. Doing his best to be quiet, he pulled the blanket over her tempting body. Catherine opened her eyes and smiled a sexy, sleepy “come here” grin.

“Don’t leave. I don’t want to sleep in this bed alone tonight.”

“It’s not night, it’s eleven Sunday morning.” He stood over her, itching to jerk that blanket back off her. “You need to rest.”

“But I’m not tired.” She flipped the covers back and patted the bed. “If you’re not in a hurry.”

She wiggled out of her sleep-shirt and tossed it at him. Matt shed his clothes before she changed her mind. She’d forgiven his macho outburst from last night. He was right, she shouldn’t stay here, but his anger at her stalker and fear for her was no excuse for his behavior. He crawled in and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. He’d apologize with his tongue, his kiss, and his hands, but first he’d tell her.

“I’m sorry I jumped on you last night.” He nibbled across her shoulders while he spoke. “My mouth overloaded my brain. You’re right, I can’t order you around.”

“Let’s accept each other’s apology and forget what happened. Thank you for sleeping on the couch.”

“That damn thing’s not a couch. Sleeping on it should be on your
Never
list.” His fingers rolled her nipple through them, and her moan sent waves of lust through him. He uncovered her breasts and feasted on her tender flesh.

“Come here.”

She pulled him on top of her and with one quick motion seated him right in her glorious sweet spot. Her hips rose up in an open invitation, which he took. Pushing himself deep in her warmth.

“Oh. My. God. I could stay in here, inside where you’re warm and wet.” He slid his hands under her hips, lifted, and pushed himself deeper. There was no place on earth he belonged any more than buried in her. His soul opened with each thrust as they set a slow pace. Eyes locked on each other, they fell into a rhythm of give and take. Ebb and flow. He wanted her emerald green eyes to darken with passion, her dark auburn eyelashes to flutter with surrender, and her mouth to speak his name with release. Matt Ballard was in love.

“Matt,” she gasped. Her eyes wide, she ground her hips into him.

“Come for me, Cat. Let go.” She clenched and released around him, milked him until, unable to hold on any longer, he emptied himself with a roar. He reached down for one more kiss before he rolled to her side.

“Before I leave, let’s walk down and ask Emma if she noticed anything unusual after you left yesterday. First, how about some coffee? Then you can tell me how Ash managed to be here with you last night. I’d hate to lose another partner.” Instantly he wanted that wisecrack back. He could’ve bitten his tongue off. How could he joke about the death of a partner? His mistakes with Elena flooded his mind.

“Matt, what is it? What’s wrong?” Her face radiated concern.

“Nothing, forget it.” Damn, he wished he could disappear. Catherine was smart, and she’d picked up on his change of mood. The sun rose to the perfect spot and cast a gold path across her face. He could lay there and look into her beautiful eyes forever. He had many things he wanted to tell her, share with her. Could it be the universe had forgiven him?

“Please don’t shut me out.”

“I’ll fix coffee.” He rolled away from her penetrating gaze, rose, and grabbed his jeans on the way to the kitchen. She’d looked at him through childlike eyes. Innocent and pure. He was everything but that.

The sound of the bathroom door closing let him know she’d followed him out of bed. A few minutes later, she joined him in the kitchen. Jesus, she knocked his breath right out of his lungs. Without makeup, she’d managed to look like she hadn’t been awake most of the night. She’d pulled her red hair back with a head band and let her wild curls hang around her shoulders. She’d definitely been working out, and a pair of shorts showcased long, well-defined legs. A yellow top with narrow straps made the freckles on her chest and nose more noticeable. Damn, he wanted to kiss every one of them.

“Your toothbrush is still in the holder.”

She smelled of minty mouthwash and soap when she kissed his cheek. They’d only made love a few minutes ago, but he instantly hardened. Her eyes searched his face, and he pushed his lusty thoughts away. He poured a cup from the unfinished pot and carried his fix of caffeine with him. By the time he’d washed up and brushed his teeth, he’d made a decision. If he wanted her to trust him, maybe, he should try trusting her. She deserved to know the truth about her imaginary hero, John Wayne.

Catherine had moved to the living room and was stretched out exactly where he’d slept. She looked a lot more comfortable on the love seat than he’d been. She sat up and started speaking the minute he sat across from her.

“Ash was at the bar last night, seems he’s good at the pool table. He asked why my car wasn’t in the parking lot. I told him about my car trouble. Marty and JC had agreed to shuttle me back and forth for the rest of the weekend. JC was my ride home. Ash offered to let JC go on, it was late, and I said yes. I’m glad, Matt. Because he insisted on coming inside to check my doors and windows. He was here when I found the box. He told me to call you right away.”

“I’m glad he was here, too.”

“Were you jealous?”

She crinkled her nose, and he had to laugh.

“Me? Of Ash? You’ve gotta be kidding.” He didn’t know why he denied it. She rolled her eyes and hit him with a grin. She read him way too easy.

“When you mentioned losing another partner, the pain in your voice and eyes broke my heart. You’ll never make me believe you were responsible.”

All the air left his lungs. She believed her statement to be true. “I lived. She didn’t.”

“I’m sure you know about survivor guilt. But, explain to me how it was your fault that you didn’t die?”

“I should’ve kept my edge. Kept my focus better. I couldn’t have prevented her being recognized but might’ve avoided capture if my head had been in the game. Our personal feelings had gotten all screwed up. We’d stayed under too long. The lines between reality and make-believe blurred. Sometimes you start believing the lies you’re living.”

“I don’t understand.”

She moved from the loveseat and sat on the floor in front of him. Her hands rested on his knees, warmth ran straight to his heart.

“I know you don’t. We lived as husband and wife for two years. Did everything within the gang together. Went months without the opportunity to come out of the role. We had no one but each other to talk to. Somehow we—” He looked away, couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

She rose to her knees and cupped his face in her hands. “You fell in love.”

Her gentle voice pulled his gaze to hers. Compassion lit her face, a glow radiated from her alabaster skin. No recrimination or condemnation, only understanding shined from clear green eyes. Through her, he’d found the strength to trust. Trust her with the truth.

“No. Elena loved her husband.” He swallowed the lump jammed into the back of his throat. He closed his eyes and drew strength from the woman whose compassion filled his heart. “We had sex. We were in Mexico. Hadn’t slept for days trying to broker a deal that would put us inside the main cartel. Exhausted, nerves about to explode, we had sex. Pure and simple, blowing-off-steam sex. It was a hundred percent my fault. Afterward things were awkward between us. After we crossed the border to Texas, our relationship didn’t improve. Both of us were confused and confounded. I’ll always wonder if our personal guilt let the edge dull, let our senses weaken.”

“You were discovered right after you came back?”

“Yes. As lead investigator, I’d made up my mind to have her pulled out. I could’ve made up some excuse. She’d have been furious, but the infidelity ate at her. Changed her. Obviously, I never got the chance to send her home.”

“Matt, you turned to each other to keep your humanity alive. The affection and warmth you shared with her wasn’t wrong. The touch of another caring human being probably saved both your sanity. Sex was a lifeline for you and Elena.”

Catherine rose onto her knees, slid between his thighs, and her arms wrapped around him. Her fingers dug into his muscles and held tightly.

“I don’t know about all that. She’s dead and I’m not. That’s what I know.” Pressed close enough he felt her heart beat against his chest. Somehow, the rhythms synchronized. Two hearts beat as one. The tingle in his hands grew stronger and stronger. This beautiful, loving woman looked at him...looked deep inside. With all
his mistakes and fuckups, she’d found something redeeming. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could move on. Maybe he’d take her hand in his and make a life for them...hell, he was sure of it.

“My offer stands. Until this stalker’s caught, I’d like you to stay at my place.” He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “Who knows, you might like it and want to move in. That way I can drive you around until your car’s fixed.”

“Emma has graciously loaned me her car until mine’s ready. It wouldn’t be right for me to move off and leave her.” A gleam lit her eyes. “But you could stay here.”

“You’re sure?” He eyed the loveseat with disdain. “I wouldn’t have to sleep on that torture chamber, would I?”

“I kind of like having you in my bed. Besides, you put it on the
Never
list.” She stood and pulled him to his feet. “But, Marty will be here soon. I won’t have time to talk with Emma, if we don’t get going.” She jogged into her bedroom and came back wearing sandals. She held a foot up for inspection. “Remember these?”

He could remember every sensuous curve of her naked body, the small mole just south of her navel, the scent she wore...but shoes...not so much. “I’ll be in a world of hurt if I say no. Right?”

She tilted her head sideways and frowned. “You should remember the first time we met. I talked you out of giving me a ticket.”

The memory of her wildfire hair shimmering in the sunlight came flooding back. “You mean the day you tried to knock me down?”

“I did not! You made me get back in my car.”

“You called me John Wayne.”

“Exactly.” She beamed a smile at him. “Well, I needed a John Wayne or Prince Charming to come into my life.”

“John was definitely the better choice.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I might’ve arrested you for assault if you’d called me Prince.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sunday, September 4th, 1:00 p.m.

Catherine’s spirit soared. Matt’s opening up to her meant a great deal. They held hands all the way to Emma’s back porch.

Emma answered the door with a huge smile, wrapped her arm around Catherine’s waist, and led them to the kitchen table. The bond she felt with the older woman helped fill the empty space losing her mother had caused. They worked as a team, one cut slices of cake and the other poured glasses of milk. Matt didn’t hesitate to dig in.

“Good,” he said around a bite.

“Glad you like it.” Emma beamed. “I was about to walk back to see you. Somebody came on the property yesterday after you left.”

Matt swallowed, leaning forward in his chair. “Did you get a close look?”

“No. Checked out both houses. Saw some boot prints behind the storage shed. Weren’t there yesterday.”

“You shouldn’t have gone outside. If it happens again, call my office. We’ll send a car out. Don’t take unnecessary chances.”

Catherine could tell by Emma’s expression he’d wasted his breath.

“I didn’t. By the time I got my pistol from the nightstand, hid the darn thing in my apron pocket, and went to take a peek, he was gone.” Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth formed a grim line. “Don’t look at me like that, Sheriff. I’ve got a license, and don’t you think for a minute I won’t protect my property.”

“I believe you. Emma, I have to advise you against pulling a gun on an intruder. You could’ve been hurt or killed. Did you see or hear a vehicle?”

She frowned and thought for a second. “No, but someone drove by. They didn’t stop, and I didn’t go check.”

“Speaking of safety, we came to tell you our news.” Catherine pulled her chair closer to his and sat. “Matt’s staying with me for a while.”

Matt opened his mouth but then closed it. Catherine would remember to tell him later it was nice to see his cheeks turn pink for a change.

“Great. Between the two of us, we’ll protect Catherine from this Tom-fool stalker. I’ll be right back.” Emma scurried away, her arms flapped as if perhaps the motion helped propel her forward

“She worries me a little,” Matt said keeping his voice low.

“Why? She’s harmless.”

“That’s not how I’d describe her...a pistol-packing granny is a scary thought.”