Killer Love by Alicia Dean

Author:Alicia Dean [Dean, Alicia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, suspense, anthology, sensual
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc. (Wildflowers Books)
Published: 2014-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

While I waited for Hutch, I took a quick shower, put on jeans and a pink sweater, and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I brewed a pot of coffee and drank the first mug black, chasing away the last dregs of the sleeping pill.

I heard Hutch drive up when I was on my second cup, this one with cream.

I opened the front door, and my heart did a little stutter when I saw him walk toward me. He wasn’t in uniform, probably because he’d been off duty—and asleep—when I’d called. He wore Wranglers and a camel-colored coat with a sheepskin collar. He was hatless and it occurred to me I hadn’t seen him like that in years. His dark hair was damp, making it look ebony in the morning sun.

He stepped up on the porch and smiled, looking at me with his sleepy grey eyes. “Are you okay, Izzy-B? What happened?”

The old nickname slipped out effortlessly. He didn’t seem to notice, but I did, and it brought back a flood of memories, a flood of feelings that left me temporarily breathless. For a moment, I couldn’t speak, then I cleared my throat, and stepped back to let him inside.

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice sounding like I’d swallowed sandpaper, in spite of the throat clearing. I led him into the kitchen where his very presence, masculine and imposing, seemed to dominate the room.

I hadn’t been alone with him since I was twenty-one. I thought about our first time, and how he’d kissed me and made love to me, if you could call our anxious, fumbling passion lovemaking. Although the rest had been a little frightening, I’d enjoyed the kissing immensely, and I wondered how much better he’d be at it now with a few years experience under his belt.

I flushed hotly as my mind moved to ‘under his belt.’ But when I once again thought of Tamra’s desecrated purse, I wondered how I was going to tell her that her beloved daddy’s tie had been demolished beyond repair. With that sobering notion, my silly, shallow thoughts fled.

Hutch took his coat off, slung it over the back of a kitchen chair and sat at the table. I poured him a cup of coffee and he took a sip. “What happened?”

On the phone, I’d only said there’d been a break-in. Now, sitting in the chair next to him, I explained exactly what had taken place, the knot lodged in my throat making the process slow and difficult. Once again, I saw the pitiful, revered, mangled tie and the tears burst forth, streaming down my cheeks as a deep, wracking sob tore from me.

“Izzy, honey? What is it? Are you sure you’re okay?” He looked puzzled, as if mere vandals couldn’t possibly cause such sorrow. I couldn’t tell him why. It was too personal, too intimate.

His large, warm hand slipped over mine where it rested on the table. I felt a tingle work its way from his touch up through my arms and into my breasts.

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