Marie Ferrarella - The Coltons - Nick, Clay & Jericho

For two cents, he’d kiss that mouth of hers into silence.

It would have been the costliest two cents he would have ever had to pay and he knew it.

“You can’t run,” he told her, his breath coming in short spurts.

“I’m not running, I just want to get a damn flashlight,” she cried.

Everything inside of her was scrambling madly—and anger had very little to do with it.

Chapter 5

Georgie’s words burrowed through the wall of preconceived notions in his head. This matched none of them.

“A flashlight?” he asked.

Georgie glared up at him, doing her best not to think about the havoc his closeness caused within her. How could she be so angry and react to him on a far different level at the same time?

“Yes,” Georgie hissed. “A flashlight.”

Nick released her and took a step back—as much for her sake as his own. He wasn’t the kind who usually entertained temptation, much less succumbed to it, but right now, he had to admit temptation was an irritating and unwanted guest.

“Why didn’t you say so?” he fairly growled at Georgie.

She tossed her head, trying to ward off the effects of being so close to him. “I didn’t realize I had to ask for permission to get something in my own house.”

“We Secret Service agents are a jumpy lot,” he told her drily. “Sudden moves make us nervous.”

She looked at him for a long moment, unable to gauge whether he was serious. “I guess that means you don’t attend many rodeos,” she finally said.

“Never felt the urge.” Although he found himself oddly curious about the events that would entice the likes of someone who looked like her to participate—if she was telling the truth and that was a big “if.” He asked a question that was more to the point. “What do you need the flashlight for?”

Turning around, Georgie opened one of the drawers beneath the counter and took out the flashlight she kept there. She flipped it to the On position and it cast a waning beam.

The batteries were running down, she thought. Something else she needed to see to. The mental list was growing.

“So I can tell ghost stories.” For a second, she put the flashlight beneath her chin so that it cast an eerie illumination on her face. And then she lowered it, as well as her sarcastic tone, again. “What do you think I need it for?”

He laughed drily. The woman was one for the books. “With you, my first guess probably wouldn’t be the right one.”

She had no patience with playing games, not with him, not now. She pointed the flashlight away from him. “I want to look around to see if anything’s been taken or misplaced.”

Again, she couldn’t begin to imagine why anyone would want to break into her ranch house, other than for shelter during a storm. She had no hidden money stashed away in a wall safe, no valuable pieces of jewelry stuffed beneath her mattress or even any high-tech electronic equipment lying around. Everything she had—except for Emmie—she had either bought secondhand or had been given as a hand-me-down.

“Because you think someone broke in.”

From his tone, she surmised that he still didn’t believe her. “Yes, I think that someone broke in. That generator isn’t mine.”

“Someone broke in and brought you something rather than stealing something.”

He was mocking her. She knew it sounded pretty stupid, but she didn’t appreciate his pointing it out or using that tone with her. Her hand tightened around the neck of the flashlight. For a split second, she wished she was Emmie’s age and had an excuse to act on her impulses. She would have loved to have hit this man and his mocking tone into the latter half of next week.

But she reined in herself and fell back on using logic and reason—even if he didn’t have any. “You said you found the door unlocked.”

“I did.”

Well, that cinched it for her, if not for him.

“I always lock the door when I leave the house.” She saw him look at her with doubt. She just knew he was going to say something again about people in rural areas being trusting. So she headed him off. “Times aren’t what they used to be,” she explained. “I trust my neighbors, but as you’ve just proven, people other than neighbors can come by. Those are the ones I lock my door against.” And then she sighed, shaking her head as she began to scan the area with her flashlight. “Without much success, apparently,” Georgie added under her breath, but audibly enough for Nick to overhear.

He was about to make a comment on what she’d just said when he saw her freeze. He saw nothing that would cause her to stop talking.

“What?”

She aimed her flashlight directly at what had caught her attention. She wasn’t the world’s best housekeeper, but she kept things neat, especially when she was going away.

“There’s a newspaper by the window seat.” Still aiming the flashlight on the paper, Georgie quickly crossed to the window seat.

Nick fell into step behind her. “So?”

She picked up the newspaper and, with the flashlight in one hand, looked at the date on the front page. “So, it’s from last week.” She dropped the newspaper back on the window seat.

He still didn’t see what she was getting at. “Again, so?”

Did she have to hit him over the head with it? “I wasn’t here last week.”

That again. Nick shook his head, his skepticism all but shining like a beacon. “So you say.”

She was tired of his not-so-veiled accusations. Tired of protesting and saying the same thing, over and over again.

“I can give you a list of the towns I’ve been in. I pretty much shadowed the circuit. I entered one if not more events in each town. People saw me. My daughter thinks I’m special, but even so, I haven’t found a way to be in two places at the same time.” And if that didn’t make him shut up and finally go away, she didn’t know what would.

The faintest hint of amusement lifted the corners of his mouth. “Would you want to be?”

What kind of a question was that? Was he deliberately trying to hassle her? Of course he was. Well, then, she just wouldn’t let him, that’s all.

Raising her chin, she gave him an answer she was fairly certain he couldn’t argue with.

“Every mother wants to be in two places at once, if she’s worth anything. She wants to be with her child and she wants to be doing whatever it is she needs to do to earn a living for that child.” At least, that was the way she’d felt since the day Emmie was born and she’d fallen instantly and madly in love with the tiny baby. Taking her along with her on the rodeo circuit was the closest she could come to being with Emmie and still earn a living for them at the same time.

She had passion, he’d give her that. Passion that unfortunately drew him in. It took effort for him to mentally pull back. “Is that supposed to convince me that you’re innocent?”

Maybe she would give in to her impulse and just smack him. It wasn’t as if Sheffield didn’t deserve it. “No, my innocence is supposed to convince you that I’m innocent.”

Instead of commenting on her claim, Nick looked at her thoughtfully. She looked damn sincere. “How long do the events that you participate in last? Your portion of them,” he elaborated.

She shrugged, thinking. “I don’t know. Five, six minutes maybe.” Although there were times, like when her horse had stumbled last year, when it had felt like an eternity—going by in slow motion. “Why?”

“Five, six minutes,” he repeated. “So you wouldn’t have to hang around all day if you didn’t want to, would you? Just show up for your part of the contest and then you could leave.”

She knew what he was getting at. Obviously he thought the events were all close by. Either that, or the man thought she had some kind of magical horse that flew her home and back. If she had a magical horse that could fly, she wouldn’t have to be competing on the rodeo circuit in the first place.