out of the car and came around to the passenger door. She couldn’t help but notice that the snap over his gun was undone, allowing him easy access to the weapon.
This single action alone forced her to face the reality she’d tried to downplay in her head for the past twenty-four hours. Before she’d been a little afraid that she might catch a virus that seemed to pick and choose people to attack at random, but now a real terror simmered deep inside her.
This was a specific threat to her, a man who wanted her dead, and the only thing that stood between him and her was the lawman next to her.
* * *
Pink panties.
Hot-pink panties.
Flint closed the door to his master bedroom and began to change from his uniform to more casual clothes to wear for the remainder of the evening.
He’d gone into the store on high alert, hovering near her and watching to make sure that nobody else got close to her. He kept his gaze out for Hank, unsure if it was possible at this time that the man had a car and could have followed them from the diner.
What he hadn’t realized was that shopping with a woman could be such an intimate experience. He’d been fine as she’d grabbed several T-shirts and sweatshirts, some jogging pants and a nightshirt.
His close presence next to her felt a little more intrusive as she shopped for toiletries. Peach-scented shampoo joined a bottle of peach-and-vanilla-scented body cream. It was then that things began to get a little wonky in his head.
He imagined her slathering that lotion up and down her shapely legs and rubbing it over her slender shoulders. He imagined the two of them showering together, the scent of peaches filling the steamy air as he washed the length of her glorious hair and then stroked a sponge all over her body.
He’d finally managed to snap himself back into professional mode when she’d headed to the intimates section. He was okay when she grabbed a white bra and threw it into the shopping basket. He even remained calm and cool when the bra was followed by a package of underpants.
It was when she tossed that single pair of hot-pink panties in the cart that his head once again went a little wonky. Pink panties and peach lotion—those things had been all he’d been able to think about as they’d raced through the grocery store to buy food to stock his pantry and fridge with what she needed to cook decent meals.
He now pulled on a pair of his worn, comfortable jeans and a black polo shirt and sat on the edge of his bed to get every inappropriate vision and thought he’d had of Nina over the past couple of hours out of his head.
She was the witness to a vicious crime and a victim of arson. She was here to be in his protective custody, not to be an object of his sexual fantasies. Speaking of protective custody, he pulled himself off the bed, grabbed his gun and went in search of his houseguest.
He found her in the kitchen putting away the groceries they’d bought while the savory scent of frying hamburger and onions filled the air. “Hmm, something smells good,” he said.
“Just a simple pot of goulash,” she replied.
“Can I help with anything?”
“Absolutely. Sit at the table and stay out of my way. If we’re going to make this little arrangement work well, then the first rule is that I’m the sole captain of the kitchen,” she said with a slight raise of her chin.
He sat at the table and placed his gun in front of him. “I won’t argue with you on that, but now seems like a good time to discuss the entire set of ground rules.”
He couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in a pair of pink jogging pants and a matching T-shirt. He also noticed the slight stiffening of her shoulders, as if she didn’t particularly like the idea of rules.
Tough. It didn’t matter to him whether she liked them or not. There had to be rules to assure her safety. He refused to have another stain on his soul. He watched her open a can of tomato sauce and add it along with some spices to the hamburger mixture.
“I don’t have a security system installed here,” he said. “I always figured it would take a real nut job to try to rob or break into a chief of police’s home. But that means we need to get a little creative as far as making the house as safe as possible while you’re here.”
She dropped a handful of egg noodles into a pot of boiling water and then turned to look at him, her hazel eyes narrowed slightly. “Creative how?”
“Your bedroom door stays open at night. There’s only two doors that would allow entry into the house, the front door and the kitchen door.” He pointed to the door that led out to his fenced backyard. “I intend to sleep on the sofa in the living room, that way I will hear anyone trying to come into any door or window.”
“Surely that isn’t necessary,” she protested.
“I think it is, so the rule is your door is open when you go to bed or are in your room, and I’m on the sofa during the nights. The other rule is that you avoid all the windows in the house unless the blinds are shut.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You tensed up the minute I mentioned rules.”
“I grew up with a father who had a lot of rules. Once I left home I decided I’d make my own rules.” She stirred the noodles and then pulled from the refrigerator the makings of a salad.
“Where was home?” he asked as he realized he knew very little about the woman now under his protection.
“I was born and raised in Casper.” She offered nothing else and appeared to concentrate solely on finishing up the meal and getting it on the table.
An awkward silence ensued, one that grew as she seemed disinclined to break it, and he felt unusually tongue-tied. Part of his problem was that he was incredibly attracted to her. He wanted to get to know her and what better opportunity would he have than this?
Unfortunately, he didn’t get the same vibe from her. He had the feeling that the only thing she wanted to know about him was how fast he could get Hank Bittard behind bars so she could escape Flint’s presence altogether.
Once she had dinner on the table and sat across from him, he decided to attempt to make the best of things by indulging in small talk.
“I’ve been back in town for a little over a year now and from what I’ve heard about you, you’ve been in Dead River three years. I eat in your diner several times a week and yet I know almost nothing about you. Is there somebody in particular who you’re dating?” He waited for her to fill her plate and then filled his own.
“Absolutely nobody. I don’t even have time to own a cat,” she replied. She smiled and not for the first time he noticed that she had the kind of open, generous smile that instantly made the world feel right. “Trying to make the diner a success has taken up all of my time and energy.”
“What brought you to Dead River in the first place?”
“When I left Casper I knocked around the entire state, staying in small towns and working as a waitress at different cafés and diners. I knew that
