Never Tempt a Lawman

The indignation in her pale blue eyes made him want to smile, but the way she gasped, as if air snagged in the back of her throat, had his fermenting desires hitting his blood stream at full force. She had incredible lips. Kissable lips.

She shoved at his chest and skirted around him. “I can take care of myself. I could have years ago and I can now.”

A man whose past was woven with pain and regret recognizes it in someone else. Bess had that. Regret. Sorrow. He wanted to know why, and he wanted to tell her it would ease. Eventually. It took time, but sooner or later, one finds a way to combat regrets. He had. Becoming a lawman had shown him the right kind of justice.

“I’m going to bed now, Sheriff. Considering you’re so worried about my reputation, you can lock up.” Never to be outdone, she eyed him daringly. “Or perhaps it’s your reputation you’re worried about.”

The urge to kiss her sprang forth bolder and more primitive than ever. She was so righteous and full of herself. He shouldn’t appreciate that, for it made her as dangerous as dynamite, but he did. He liked her smart mouth and her snippety attitude. In truth, there wasn’t much about her he didn’t like. Stepping forward, he touched the end of her nose, knowing how much she hated it. “I don’t give a hoot about my reputation, but you should.”

She frowned and he was almost to the dining room when she asked, “Why should I care about your reputation?”

He grinned, and turned enough for her to see it. “Because this rain means Helen will be at the Arnold’s all night and Mr. VanCamp will stay at the Bakers’. Leaving us, you and me, alone here.”

Speechless due to the swarm of butterflies that suddenly took flight in her stomach, Bess didn’t move. She hadn’t felt this way for years, not since anticipating a boy might ask her to dance at a cotillion. Lately, the closest she’d ever come to a man asking her to dance was Eli chasing her down after church.

Her gaze caught on Kirk’s grin, his lips. She’d bet money they wouldn’t be wet and sloppy like Eli’s.

Kirk shifted to lean one hand on the frame of the doorway, and started laughing. Bess clamped her lips shut, realizing her mouth was hanging open.

The brief but fascinating excitement of a stomach full of butterflies completely disappeared. “You’re a—”

His challenge was silent, a mere lift of one brow, but it stole what she’d been about to say right out of her lips. She hated being speechless, especially when it came to him. “Good night, Sheriff.” Dredging up the best insult she could think of, she added, “Make sure you take your boots off—I don’t want to have to wash sheets again tomorrow.”

He pushed off the wall and walked into the dining room with a slow, yet determined swagger. “You never want to wash sheets.”

“I’ve never complained.”

“But you want to.”

Fueled, and unable not to, for arguing with him was the most exciting thing—when she was winning—Bess followed him into the other room. “Only yours. They’re always so full of sand I have to change the wash water.”