Chapter Thirty-Two
A s the crowd gradually thinned, Emily pointed at the bag of kibble in the crate of supplies in the back of the SUV. “It’s past dinnertime. Do you want to eat now, or shall we go back home?”
Tucker spun around as she posed the question to Lobo, giving her a look she could only describe as intense. The dog answered the question by immediately jumping into the SUV. Tucker just stared at her.
“Careful,” he said, his voice a little rough. “For a second there I thought you were asking me to go home with you, not the dog.”
She closed the hatch and turned to face him. She had the feeling this could be a crucial moment. She steadied herself.
“And if I was?” she asked.
His gaze flicked briefly to Lobo, then back to her. “You’d get the same answer.”
Her heart seemed to leap in her chest. Telling herself not to assume too much, she said as casually as she could, “Let’s go, then.”
As far as conversation went, the drive to her home held none.
As far as tension went, on her part at least, it was packed solid.
She snuck a glance at him now and then as she drove, but it was after nine PM now, twilight had set in, and she couldn’t be sure if she’d really seen his jaw tighten a couple of times as he stared straight ahead.
The only time he shifted his gaze was when they passed the Jameson Hospital.
She wondered if that was because of all the time he’d spent in one.
She didn’t like thinking about what that must have been like, the pain he’d gone through, and then to deal with his pitiful excuse for a mother on top of it, as he lay broken and hurting.
She made a mental note to call her own mother soon, to thank her for being who she was.
Finally, as she approached the turn for the cul-de-sac she lived on, Emily spoke. “This is it. Last chance to change your mind.”
He turned his head to look at her then. “I’m only worried that if you change yours, I’m going to be stuck walking home, and that’s a hell of a hike.”
She couldn’t stop the grin that flashed then. Because there wasn’t a chance she was going to change her mind.
She made the turn and headed down the relatively short road.
It was a small, newer development, and she’d jumped on the opportunity to buy the end unit that looked out over a grassy park.
She loved that it was built from the same light-colored limestone that so many Last Stand buildings—including the famous saloon—were.
“Nice,” Tucker said as she pulled into her driveway, hitting the opener as she did and watching the garage door rise. “Double garage.”
“I didn’t need that much when I bought it, but it’s great now that I’m driving both my own car and the K9 unit.”
It was odd, but now that they were here, she was nervous. She first realized it when she found herself chattering.
“It’s only got two bedrooms, but the rooms are all big, with high ceilings and lots of windows. And a killer air-conditioning system I give thanks for every summer.”
A glance told her he was smiling, but she supposed that could be at her inane babbling as much as what she’d said. She hit the button to close the big door, then went to let Lobo out.
“Lead the way, dog,” she said, and he trotted off toward the door to the inside.
It had a lever door handle which the clever animal had learned to maneuver almost instantly.
Before Lobo she used to lock it out of force of habit, but between the garage door, the alarm system, and the dog, she figured she’d have plenty of warning if necessary.
And the dog just had too much fun letting himself in.
“So he really is that smart,” Tucker said as they stepped inside.
“He is. He’ll do a room-by-room check, then he’ll be back,” she said as the first bit of cool air hit. She’d programmed it for today only guessing at when she and Lobo would be back, so now the place was thoroughly cooled down because they were a bit later.
But look who we brought home…
“Wow.”
He stood in the entry, looking toward the spacious main room. She wondered how it looked to him, with her white walls and furniture, the light gray drapes and area rugs, all enlivened here and there with splashes of a vivid blue.
When he turned slightly to his right, she knew what had caught his eye. He walked toward the large, framed artwork on the wall above the couch.
“That’s the same drawing that’s in the saloon, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The one that’s also in the library, the police station, and several other places in town, including the banner of The Defender .”
She saw the corner of his mouth lift. “I kind of like that the symbol of the town is the saloon.”
“Seems fitting, given that’s where the last stand took place.”
He turned back to her. “Nic told me that story. Pretty amazing. She said the Highwaters and the Raffertys—” he glanced down at Lobo who, his inspection complete, was back at their feet, looking up at her expectantly “—were there for the fight and have been here ever since.”
She nodded. “They were. And a Highwater has been in law enforcement and another has owned the saloon ever since. The chief says it makes for some interesting family Sunday dinners.”
Something flickered in his gaze then, and she wondered if he’d ever known the kind of gatherings she was talking about, where a family gathered to maintain the bond between them.
She guessed probably not, at least not since his father had been killed.
Of course many hadn’t grown up in a family where it was the rule rather than the exception to get together and actually connect.
“Speaking of dinner,” she said quickly, shifting her attention to Lobo because she didn’t know what to say to Tucker, “ready for yours?”
The dog gave a little yip, as if he were any pampered pet wondering what was taking his human so long to get the message. When she got the container of the customized food she fed him at night out of the fridge, Tucker let out a laugh.
“No wonder he wanted to wait. That stuff looks darn good. On human terms.”
“I think it is,” she admitted as she warmed it up to room temperature in the microwave. “But I think he deserves it, after a long day of work.”
“And do you fix yourself something as nice?”
“Sometimes. But sometimes,” she admitted as she set the bowl down and Lobo went for it hungrily, “I just go for what’s easy and on hand. Makes for some…interesting combinations.”
“Bet you couldn’t beat my pork and beans with scrambled eggs,” he drawled. “And that was for dinner.”
She laughed. “That actually sounds delicious to me. For any meal.”
He smiled back at her, but it was different this time, not just an amused smile, or in thanks for her laughing. And when he spoke his voice had dropped into a low, husky timbre that sent a shiver rippling through her as he said, “Then we’ll get along fine.”
And then he was kissing her, and it was everything, no it was more than she ever could have imagined.
His lips were warm, firm, and tempting. There was no decision to make for her, not now.
She’d made it long ago. Maybe that very first time he’d grinned at her, over Lobo giving him permission to pet him.
She remembered the jolt that grin had given her, and if she was as honest as she usually tried to be, she hadn’t been the same since.
He tilted her head back slightly, his hands gentle against her face, then he flicked his tongue across her lips. She opened for him, but also because she wanted to taste him in turn, because she had to know, now, if he was as hot and sweet and irresistible as she thought.
He was.