Читать книгу Shadow Protector - Jenna Ryan - Страница 11

Sera’s mind blanked out. Her blood fired as need spiked. He tasted like bourbon-flavored sex.

Logan took his time, exploring her mouth with lazy thoroughness. It wasn’t what she expected. Heat seared the edges of her control, but he didn’t rush her, didn’t take her on a wild ride to nowhere. Instead, he let the anticipation rise, made the hunger build. She might even have taken a hungry bite back.

Somewhat dizzy but decidedly intrigued, Sera gave his lower lip a tug, then reluctantly made herself end it.

His left hand dropped and his lashes lowered, but he didn’t step away. “Not the best idea I’ve ever had,” he murmured.

“Not the worst either.” A smile sparked her eyes. “But maybe not the smartest, all things considered.”

“It’s one of my bigger failings.” With his fingers still wrapped around her neck, he stared down at her. “Sometimes I forget to consider the consequences of my actions.”

Was any part of her body not tingling? Sera touched her thumb to each fingertip. “On the upside, Logan, that was some action you undertook. On the down, you’re dredging up feelings I’m not sure I want to deal with. You’re also undermining my resolve.”

“Which is?”

“Present nightmare excluded, to control my own destiny.”

“So there’ll be no using the Force on you.” The faint smile lingered as he unhooked his ringing cell phone. “Yeah, Logan.”

Sera experienced a moment of regret when he moved away, then reminded herself that distance was good. Another shot of bourbon wouldn’t hurt either, but giving in would be weak, and she had no intention of becoming—well, a weak person.

“You sure your grandsons didn’t take them?” Safely out of range, Logan threw his mallet in a Dodge truck that had seen better days and tossed Sera a set of keys. “Okay, I’ll come by tomorrow. Meantime, check the barn and whatever other outbuildings are still standing.”

When he bent to retrieve his work gloves, Sera tried not to notice how good he looked in his jeans and red T. “Is Grandpa Bulley missing some knives?” she asked.

A roll of baling wire joined the mallet. “Old Edgar locked up his sharpest knives years ago. He can’t find his father’s Winchester rifle. He’s also minus a box of bullets and some food from his pantry—cooking spray, candy bars, chips, Twinkies.”

“All the basics.”

“To the non-medical types among us.” He glanced down, arched a brow. “Did you walk all the way out here in those?”

“Oh, I can hike up any San Francisco hill in heels, but I’ll be honest and admit that Fred drove me most of the way. I only had to make it in from the road.” Her humor faded. “He’s going to show up, isn’t he, sooner or later?”

“Probably.” Logan added his work gloves to the pile of tools and supplies. “Sig wouldn’t have talked, but that never stops a serial killer. They find a way.”

“Well, I feel better.”

“You’re a shrink, Sera. You don’t need lies.”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind.” She stopped as a thought suddenly struck. “Dixon Dane! You—I—whoa.” She spread her fingers. “I knew I’d seen you before. Did you know when Sig called—no, scratch that, you’d have known, because, although I don’t believe in lucky rocks, a cop’s memory, especially a pissed-off cop’s, is pretty much infallible.”

Logan scooped a second set of keys from the back bumper. “Dane killed a stranger on a train. Hacked a guy’s head off with an ax he’d been carrying in his backpack.”

“And that says sane individual to you?”

“It says he murdered an innocent man.”

“He didn’t fake us out, Logan. The voices directing Dane’s actions make your Jessie-Lynn’s aliens read like a ship full of Morks.”

“He’ll be on the street in seven years.”

“Not based on my recommendation, he won’t.” But her right palm beat a restless tattoo on the leg of her jeans. “You’re right, though, he will. And even if he’s deemed fit to rejoin society, it won’t erase what he’s done.” She sent him an assessing look. “That’s why you’re in Blue Ridge, isn’t it, and not where you were?”

He shrugged. “New York, Boston, L.A., there was no difference in the end. Names, faces, coworkers. The crimes repeated, and time served became a joke. You want to drive?” He indicated the key ring in her hand. “Those are for you to use in case I’m otherwise occupied.”

“Thanks.” She exchanged the keys for the rock in the pocket of her jeans. “I know Sig gave it to me, but you were close to him so I figured you might …” She broke off at his expression. “What’s that? Am I getting a look?” Dipping down, she peered under his hat. “Are you annoyed with me for offering to give you Sig’s rock?”

“No. I’m not annoyed, and there’s no look.” Logan slammed the rear door of the truck. “I appreciate the gesture, but he wanted you to have it, not me.”

“Yes, but …”

Reaching out, he closed her fingers around the smooth red rock. “Keep it until we nail the Blindfold Killer. You can give it to me then.”

Heat speared up her arm, but she didn’t react. “He told me it came from Sedona. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I knew.” He opened the driver’s side door. “Choice of seats is yours, Doc.”

She considered, then slid behind the wheel. “He said his nephew gave it to him.”

“Yes.”

“Look, I know you don’t like answering …”

“I said yes, Sera.” Before he slammed the door, he set his mouth on hers in a kiss that sent a streak of desire straight to her lower limbs and most of her thoughts into a black hole.

Most but not all, she realized as his answer suddenly registered.

Sig Rayburn hadn’t merely been Logan’s friend. He’d been his uncle.

BABE WAS LIMPING around the kitchen when she returned to the house. With a cryptic smile, Logan disappeared into the barn, leaving Sera to face Flo and her older sister alone.

Two hours and a long physical examination later, Sera had the woman booked for an X-ray at the hospital in Casper. Flo waited until Babe was seated in Fred’s truck for the trip home before giving the tabletop an accusing jab.

“What were the words you used, and why did Doc Prichard say milk would make the problem go away?”

Sera went to the sink to wash her hands. “The term was plantar fasciitis. It refers to the long ligament on the bottom of the foot. As for the milk thing, no idea, unless it had to do with milk as a source of calcium.”

Flo sniffed. “Man’s a jackass.”

“It’s been mentioned. In any case, an X-ray will pinpoint Babe’s problem, at which point it can be treated.”

“By you.”

“Well, I’m not really …”

“You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Have to be one before you can get into the head shrink stuff. I didn’t fry all my brain cells when I was young.”

“That’s not exactly the point, Flo.”

“You don’t want to get involved.”

Closer, Sera thought. “I’m not staying,” she said, searching under the sink for a towel.

Flo whipped a fresh one out of the drawer. “S’pose I can’t blame you for that. Our girl, Autumn, couldn’t wait to get out. Should I go to Casper with Babe and Fred?”