“Come here, hot mess.” He wrapped her in his coat and rubbed her hip for her.
She looked up at him. “So this is your future bedroom.”
“Actually, we’re now standing in the master bath.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him as he continued to work out her kinks. “Do you want to take a shower with me, big boy?”
“Hell no. It’s too cold here right now.”
She kissed his chin. “I love you, too, Sheriff Hardass.”
He stopped massaging, his eyes holding hers. “Okay, you win. We can pretend we’re in the shower while we have sex out here, but I’m keeping my coat on the whole time.”
His phone rang while she was unbuttoning his jeans.
She stilled. “You want to answer that?”
“No, I’d rather have freezing cold sex with you.”
The phone kept ringing.
“Yeah, but it’s like two o’clock in the morning.” Who would be calling him this late?
He tipped her chin up, closing in on her mouth. “It will go to voicemail.”
She pulled back. “What if it’s an emergency?”
He sighed. “Fine, spoilsport.” He pulled out his phone and frowned at the number. “It’s work. One of my deputies.”
“Take it.”
He answered with, “Harrison here.”
Ronnie leaned closer, trying to listen in and hearing the sound of sirens coming through the line.
“Is he alive?” he asked.
She frowned at the pain she saw pass over Grady’s face.
“Okay, I’m about fifteen minutes out. Keep me posted.” He hung up. “We gotta go.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think the diamond killer has struck again.”
She gasped. “What? Who did he …” She couldn’t finish. She gulped. “Please, not …”
He took her by the shoulders, steadying her. “Your family is safe. The killer moved on to the next one in line.”
“What do you mean? I thought Claire and I were next.”
“You forgot about someone.”
She thought for a moment, going down the line from the start of the hunt.
Oh no!
“The tow truck driver who removed the camper from the RV park?” At his nod, she clutched his coat. “Not Tank.”
He nodded again, his expression grim. “Come on, we’ll take my pickup.”
Chapter Thirteen
Monday, New Year’s Eve—Too Damned Early O’clock
“You mess with my head,” Coop whispered, his breath tickling her ear as he leaned in close.
Natalie shivered. “Coop, stop.” She pushed away from him.
The Purple Door Saloon throbbed around them, a loud pounding beat playing on the jukebox while faceless patrons talked and tipped back drinks at the bar and tables. Natalie and Coop had the pool table area in back to themselves, the lighting even more shadowed than usual tonight, far too intimate for Natalie’s common sense to see clearly.
She walked around the pool table, using it as a barrier between them. “Is it my turn?”
“Yes.” He leaned his hip against the table, chalking up his pool cue as he undressed her with his eyes. His T-shirt hugged his chest, his forearm muscles rippling as he turned the chalk back and forth in slow motion.
She dragged her gaze away from the long and lean temptation across the table and tried to make sense of the arrangement of the pool balls on the green felt. “Three ball in the corner pocket.”
Before she could bend over to take the shot, he was behind her, brushing up against her. “All you have to do is look at me and my hands get clammy,” he said, his words making her blood pulse in her fingertips.
She leaned back into him. His lips grazed the side of her neck as his hand trailed down her bare arms. Goose bumps spread in the wake of his touch.
She shouldn’t be letting him touch her. She needed to make him stop, but he felt too good.
The song on the jukebox grew louder, the beat pounding, blocking out the sound of everyone in the bar except for Coop and his heated whispers.
“You’re powerful trouble,” he said.
Boom, boom, boom.
“Just friends, law dog,” she reminded him over her shoulder.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, his fingers sliding under the hem of her camisole.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The beat was louder now, making her whole body throb. Or maybe it was Coop’s fingers sliding up her ribcage that had her heart pounding. Or the way he was licking the shell of her ear.
“I’m losing control,” he said and growled in her other ear.
Maybe just one kiss.
He tipped her head back, leaned in close, and barked at her.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Natalie jerked awake, her heart hammering along with whoever was knocking on the bedroom door in Gramps’s Winnebago.
Another bark sounded next to her. Henry nudged her arm with his cold nose and then licked her palm, which was coated with dog slobber.
She grimaced and wiped the slobber off on her camisole. Claire had warned her about letting Gramps’s dog sleep in the bed with her. Next time she went to bed lonely, she’d … her dream version of Coop popped into her head … well, she’d just go to bed lonely.
“Natalie!” Kate called from the other side of the bedroom door, her voice higher than normal. “If you don’t unlock this freaking door I’m going to chop it down.”
Her and what ax? Kate always closed her eyes when swinging any weapons—bats, shovels, broomsticks. She’d be lucky to hit the broad side of a barn most days.
“Calm down, gangster!” Natalie grumbled, scrambling out from under the covers. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she unlocked the door and yanked it open. “Sheesh, Kate. Where’s the damned fire?”
Henry raced past Kate and headed for the door.
“I’ll tell you in a bit.” Kate rushed into the room, sniffing. “Gross. It smells like dog in here. You shouldn’t sleep with Henry if you’re going to close the bedroom door. His bladder can only hold so much for so long, you know.” She opened the built-in dresser drawer and grabbed some clothes.
Natalie waved her off about the dang dog.
“I’m going to let Henry out. Hurry up and get dressed,” Kate said. She opened the closet and pulled out a black bag before heading back
