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She took it as a challenge and shoved the sleeve of her t-shirt up to her shoulder. She flexed her arm for him. “I like the work.”
His brows rose and his lips curved. “Damn, woman, you’ve got some guns.”
“Well, how the hell do you think I was able to move you? You’re not exactly a tiny thing.”
“No. I’m not.” Braden smiled and her heart quivered. His green eyes about killed her anyway. But combined with his smile? Deadly.
She drew in a deep breath and took a step back. She held up both hands. “You rest. Heal yourself. I’ll be back soon.”
He narrowed his eyes and damn if he didn’t slowly lift his bare arms and lace his hands behind his head. Now, talk about ‘guns’. “You’re not playing fair, Braden.”
“I’m not playing at all. Are you?” But his lips quirked.
“Huh.” She huffed a snort, then turned on her heel.
She felt pretty certain if she didn’t leave, she might just crawl into bed and see what else he could flex.
Before she left, however, Sheba crawled out from under the bed and trailed along beside her.
~ ~ ~
Braden once more had his eyes glued to her ass. A soft welcoming vibration traveled through his veins then landed in his lap. His hand slid beneath the sheets and he gave his arousal one long stroke.
He liked this redhead, maybe more than he was willing to admit. Besides the fact she’d saved his life, she wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. His wolf approved of her straightforward manner and the male part of him thought her body rocked. Her snug t-shirt accentuated her full breasts and her jeans looked painted on. He could easily see her naked in his head.
He
made a simple decision. Before he left the Landing, he would bed Maeve. By his best guess, based on the almost tangible drifts of her womanly lemon-lavender scent, she’d welcome his attentions.
In the meantime, he had some strength to renew.
He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he fell asleep.
When he awoke, he felt better than he had in a long time. He sat up, then slid his legs over the side of the bed. He checked his wolf’s time sensor. He’d slept another eight hours. Nothing like a blood-rare steak to restore him to health. In April, in Arizona, it was maybe an hour or two before dawn.
He stood up and stretched. He was fully naked and alone. His shifter nose caught the scent of bath wipes coming off his skin. He didn’t dare lift his arm to check his odor. He knew what he’d find.
Recalling the small table and fresh flowers, he quickly rounded the bed. Nothing sounded better right now than hot water hitting his body hard.
Once inside the bathroom, he saw that one of his long-sleeved t-shirts, boxers and jeans sat folded up on the sink. His boots and a pair of sock were tucked under a vanity area below the counter.
A note offered an explanation. ‘A couple of my shifters knew where you were staying and fetched some things for you. Enjoy your shower. M.’
For a moment, he forgot everything except what he owed this woman. She’d cared for him for four days and even held his hands when he was delirious.
His throat tightened. She’d gone the distance. That’s who this woman was, would always be. He trusted her and he owed her a debt. He’d been married to Laura for years before they’d both come to Five Bridges. He knew what a relationship took and that setting out fresh clothes was no small thing. It told him a lot about Maeve.
He’d find some way to make it up to her.
Already, he could feel his need to get back to his investigation. For whatever reason, he could not rest until he’d brought every last one of his wife’s murderers to justice. His wolf instincts told him the job had greater ramifications than mere revenge.
He turned the water on, stepped in and gave a groan of pleasure. He didn’t hurry, either. He soaped up three times before his sensitive wolf’s nose told him he was clean.
When he was done, he’d planned on getting dressed and exploring Maeve’s apartment. Instead, the bed called to him once more. He needed to heal the rest of the way before he could resume his life.
~ ~ ~
An hour before dawn and with her satchel in hand, Maeve stood near a rundown strip center off what used to be Shea Blvd. The buildings had once been a medium brown but thirty years of decay had left them looking like they’d been fire-bombed.
