But no, he was slowing down, pulling over to the shoulder. “Not yet,” he said and brought the truck to a stop. After putting it in park, he unfasted his seat belt, reached into the back, and grabbed her coat from the seat. “Want to step out for a minute?”
“Uh, okay. Sure. Why not?” He held out the red wool coat he’d gotten her for Christmas, while she shrugged into it, then got out, slid into his own olive-green coat, and came around the front of the truck to her side and opened the door for her. She hopped out and snuggled deeper into her coat. The night was cold enough that their breath puffed out in misty clouds. He left her door open for extra light but took her hand and guided her to a spot on the shoulder a couple feet away. Finally, he stopped, stepped in front of her and glanced around, smiling a strangely satisfied smile. “Look familiar?”
She looked around, too, then back at him. “It looks like Route 9. Is there something I’m missing?”
He raised an eyebrow and jammed his hands into his coat pockets. “I think so. We’ve returned to the scene of the crime, I guess you could say.”
Okay. She was officially totally confused—he didn’t bring her into his work very much—and aside from that, he seemed to be teasing her. There was a devilish light dancing in his eyes. It got those sparks burning even brighter inside her, but she was still in need of more than wool and hormones to keep her warm. She moved closer until they were toe to toe, leaned in so their bodies touched, and looked up at him. “The scene of what crime, Officer Donovan?”
He cupped his warm hands on her cold cheeks. “The place where you stole my heart.”
Seriously? She looked around again. “Here? I don’t understand.”
“This is where I pulled over to bust a certain hitchhiker and she passed out in my arms.” Arms he now wrapped around her and held her close. “I didn’t realize it right at the time, but Roxy, I was a goner from that moment.”
His words did sweet things to her insides, but she worked an arm free and slapped him lightly on his broad chest. “You distrusted me from the minute you set eyes on me, and you know it. You wanted me gone. If you’d had the power to teleport me to Timbuktu, I’d never have breached the Bluelick city limits.”
He exhaled a quiet laugh. “I knew you were going to shake things up, and by things, I mean me. At the time I didn’t know I needed shaking, but I did. Badly. Since then, my life’s been shaken, stirred, invaded by an ugly dog named Lucky, and a beautiful, chaotic force of nature named Roxy.”
“Invaded?” She bit back a laugh of her own and slapped his chest again. “Try a different word.”
“Enriched.” He leaned down and captured her lips. His were cool from the chilly air, firm, and utterly addictive in a way she didn’t have to be wary of. She clung to them with her own when he eased away. His hands found her face again. “Before you, I was doing my job. Getting along. Existing. But now, I’m living. I’m invested.”
Her heart swelled in her chest. She smoothed her hands along his jaw. “Before you, I was running. Running and hiding because I didn’t think I could have what I really wanted.”
“What did you really want?”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and flattened her face to his chest. “You. At first, just, you know, your very fine body, but soon I wanted your goodness, your strength and stability. I wanted your love.”
“You’ve got it, Roxy. Always. Which is part of the reasons we’re here.”
Her heart started to pound hard as he stepped away and dipped a hand in his pocket.
“West…”
He looked at her then blinked, turned his head to the open door of the truck, and froze.
She grabbed his arm. “West!”
He grabbed her arm right back. “Roxy…shh. Listen.”
Inside the truck, the radio played on low volume, sending a song floating into the night. A familiar song. Her song. “Oh my God! She bounced onto her toes.
The superstar singing it had turned it into a power ballad, but beneath all the showy vocal runs and heavy instrumental arrangement was her simple little tune about a hitchhiker and a cop on a lonely country road in the rain.
He swept her up against him and swayed them both to the bluesy beat, under a blanket of stars, spotlighted by the truck’s headlights. “Congratulations,” he whispered as the final notes faded. “Your first hit. One of many, I’m a hundred percent sure.” He pulled back and gave her a serious look. “Though I have to admit I’m partial to the original version. Are you sure you don’t wish it was you singing it in front of big crowds the way what’s-her-name will?”
“Uh-huh.” She answered without hesitation. “She can keep the crowds and the glory of performing it. I’m right where I want to be.”
He nodded. “Well, in that case…” He released her and dropped to one knee. “Roxy, would you care to take on a slightly rehabilitated cynical, by-the-book lawman?”
Joy really could bubble, she discovered. Better than champagne and way more intoxicating. Laughing, she got down on her knee and succeeded in surprising him with the move. He relocated her so she perched on his thigh. She rolled her eyes but then rested her forehead against his. “West, would you care to
