bad and good—and very, very good ones.
Riled not only at Lexie, but at himself and his too vivid, lust-induced reminiscence, Garrett grabbed a pair of Wranglers from the floor and slipped them on. Not easily. His still-soaking-wet body caused the denim to drag, catch and cling. Worse, it dragged, caught and clung while Lexie gawked at the entire awkward, semihumiliating process.
He didn’t let her gawking deter him, though. He zipped them up—carefully, since he wasn’t wearing underwear—while he also checked the position of his Glock. He didn’t relish the idea of drawing that gun on Lexie, but it was obvious she had a bone to pick with him. He didn’t want that bone-picking argument to turn into shots being fired.
Ironic.
Because he’d never thought of Lexie as dangerous. Armed, yes. Capable of kicking butt. But not lethal in a criminal, out-of-control sort of way. He was obviously wrong. Any woman who would pull a gun on him so they could talk had gone a few steps past that dangerous level and was definitely out of control.
What was wrong with her, anyway?
Yes, she had a right to be riled. But, heck, so did he. More so than she obviously was. Yet Lexie seemed to be putting all the blame on him.
“You didn’t wait around for the trial to end,” Garrett said, figuring his words would hit a few raw nerves. Because she hadn’t waited around for a lot of things—like to finish her testimony. Or even to say goodbye. “But I guess you know your former boss was convicted on all charges and is behind bars?”
“William Avery,” she said.
“William?” Garrett repeated. He stared at her. Well now, that confirmed something was truly wrong. Lexie always called her former boss Billy.
“I read about William, and you, on the Internet,” she continued. “That’s how I knew you were a cop. That’s how I figured out where to find you.”
Yet more confirmation that something was wrong. Lexie knew he was a cop, and she darn sure knew where to find him. “Are you okay?”
A soft burst of air left her mouth. Almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. Her voice was laced with fatigue and sarcasm when she admitted, “No. I’m not okay.” And she left her somewhat lame explanation at that.
“Did Billy’s…William’s friends threaten you or something?” It might explain why she was here. Maybe she’d come because Garrett was a cop. However, that was a stretch. There were a lot of cops in San Antonio, and he was almost certainly the last one she’d ask for help.
“Maybe,” she mumbled, as if she were considering that for the first time. “I don’t know if he’s behind this or not. But I don’t think so.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she blinked back tears.
Actual tears.
All right. That took a chunk out of the Texas-size chip Garrett carried on his shoulder. Here, he wanted nothing more than to tell Lexie that her untimely departure had not only left him in departmental hot water, it’d also put a few fractures in his desires to get involved in another relationship—ever. But Garrett put his own issues and old grudges on the back burner. After what she’d done to him, he didn’t care much for Lexie. In fact, what he felt for her fell into the strongly dislike category, but it was obvious she was in trouble. Unfortunately, that and the tears brought out protective instincts that he knew he stood no chance of suppressing.
Still, he’d try. Hard.
Because, after all, this was Lexie. He wasn’t ready to go a second round with her. The sooner he could get her out of his life, the better.
“Other than the veiled threats he made to you during the trial, I haven’t heard anything from Billy Avery,” he tried to assure her, while he calculated how he was going to subdue her so he could confiscate that gun. “In fact, he’s been a model prisoner. Probably because he’s hoping to have the murder and racketeering verdicts overturned on appeal.” With that, Garrett paused. Rethought. “He threatened you so you wouldn’t testify against him if he was granted a new trial?”
Lexie shook her head and left the doorway. She stepped warily into the room, her gaze darting around as if she expected someone to jump out from the corners. “I haven’t spoken to Billy Avery.”
Garrett believed her, especially since prison authorities would have alerted someone in the SAPD if Lexie had phoned or shown up at the prison. But believing her on that specific point didn’t help clear up everything else.
“Look, I could stand here and try to guess what’s wrong,” he stated, “but wouldn’t it be easier if you just told me what this is all about?”
She looked at him as if trying to decide what to say. Or what not to say. Finally, she nodded. Then nodded again. “Someone tried to kill me.”
Whoa. That got his attention. “Who?”
But he was already fairly sure of the answer. If someone had tried to kill her, then Billy Avery or one of his associates was likely behind it. That was the reason the cops and the feds had wanted Lexie in the Witness Protection Program. A program she’d declined by simply leaving and not telling anyone, including Garrett, her whereabouts.
He hadn’t thought for a minute that she was dead, either. She was too resourceful for that. So over the past months he had come to accept that she’d disappeared because of him. Their little encounter had nearly cost the state a guilty verdict for Billy Avery, and it’d nearly cost Garrett his badge. The flack hadn’t stopped there. His brother and sister, both fellow cops, had had their own sterling careers tarnished by standing up for him.
No. Garrett wouldn’t forget the mess Lexie had made of his life and the trouble she’d caused for his family.
“I don’t know who tried to kill me,” she said. “But that’s not the reason I came here.” Lexie plowed the fingers of her left hand through her hair and scooped it away from her face. It didn’t help. The loose strands simply fell back into place. “I need to ask you something, something personal, and I want the truth.”
Garrett waited. And waited. But she didn’t finish her request for information. She just stood there, tears threatening and her bottom lip trembling. He forced himself to stay put. Comforting could lead to holding.
Or shooting.
Neither was going to happen, not tonight. Not ever.
“You need to know what?” he pressed. “I’m not a mind reader, Lexie.”
Without breaking eye contact, and without lowering her gun, she sat down on the foot of his bed. The mattress creaked softly.
She pulled in a long, weary breath, released it. “Are you the father of my baby?”
Chapter Two
“Am I what?” Garrett O’Malley demanded.
But he didn’t just demand it. His hands went to his hips, and he pinned his Celtic-green gaze on her. With that stare, he questioned her integrity. Her presence.
And her sanity.
Lexie
