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The tingle still flowing through her body was a warning sign. Brian was dangerous.
Not the first time she’d sensed it. Whenever they were within arm’s reach, something inside her lit up. Made her want to know more about him. Get closer to him. Something she could not afford to do.
Not with a cop.
Chapter Four
A loud horn blared. Brian jackknifed upright. His ears rang as his gaze flew around. He was still in his truck. Parked out front of Charlie’s place. Early morning sunlight poured through the rolled-down windows. Charlie stared at him, standing on the running board of his truck with her hand bearing down on his horn.
His blood surged at the sight of her. Right along with his blood pressure. “Stop it,” he snapped.
Charlie removed her hand from the horn. “Morning.” She handed him a disposable cup of piping hot coffee, black. “Imagine my surprise when I leave for run and find you here.”
“What time is it?” He wiped the sleep from his eyes.
She glanced at her smartwatch. “Five forty-five. A better question is, what are you doing camped outside of my house? Since you’re in the same clothes, I presume you were here all night.”
He sipped the coffee. Scalded his tongue. A string of curses flew from him.
“Oh, my.” Charlie batted her lashes. “I thought your brand of superhero was PG. No foul language permitted.”
Every time he looked at her his thoughts nosedived straight into the gutter. Definitely X-rated. He’d been in the company of beautiful women before, dated a few, too, but there was something about Charlie that kept him spellbound. “Goes to show how little you know about my brand.”
He blew on the coffee and tried again. The hit of caffeine was just what he needed.
“You didn’t answer my question.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to lay on the horn again to clear your head?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
She reached for the steering wheel. “Want to test me?”
No. He did not.
The sun broke through the clouds, framing Charlie in an ethereal light. Made her look like an angel. A fallen one sent to corrupt him.
Brian had always had a thing for feisty blondes, but he wasn’t sure why out of all the ones in the great state of Wyoming, or even in the world, he was so fiercely attracted to her.
But without a doubt, he was.
“It wasn’t safe for you to spend the night in your house,” he said. “Someone tried to kill you. Same shooter could’ve easily returned. I noticed your alarm system, but now you’re missing a window. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep worrying about you. Trying to get you to see reason seemed like it’d be a waste of time. You can be obstinate.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I prefer to be called headstrong.”
Semantics. Same outcome. She wouldn’t have listened to him.
A yawn scratched up his throat.
She propped her forearm on the door. “How many nights do you plan on sleeping out here?”
“Until you get your window fixed.” He took another glorious sip of coffee. “Or you take pity on me by staying somewhere else.” Stretching, he groaned. “This isn’t the best sleeping arrangement for my back.”
She pushed her pink lips out into a pout. “I’m not big on pity.” She patted his unshaven cheek. “For myself anyway. I’ll see what I can muster for you,” she said, flashing a smile.
He couldn’t help but return it. The grin spreading wider on her face, the feel of her palm on his skin, that electric thing always between them crackling with a new kind of energy.
“How kind of you,” he quipped.
“Blasphemy. I don’t have a kind bone in my body,” she said with a wink. “I’m all fire and ice.”
