*
Scott began to worry when Cole didn’t show up for dinner. No one seemed to know where she was. No one but he seemed particularly worried. She’d been very angry when she ran out on the meeting. He checked his watch. No, his empty wrist. He hadn’t been able to find his watch this morning. He pulled out his cell phone to get the time.
Cole had been gone four hours. She hadn’t taken Hugo or her cruiser. How far could she have gone on foot?
For the fourth time in an hour he stepped out onto the porch of the bunkhouse that he and Cole now shared. It was almost dark, the sky streaked by deep purple fingers that seemed to point to where stars twinkled into view. That air was still and warm. Mosquito weather.
Hugo padded out onto the porch beside him and stared off into the distance.
Scott looked down. At least they had come to some sort of truce in the past couple of days. “Where the hell is your owner?”
He was answered by a brusque bark that sounded remarkably like a doggy imitation of his own gruff tone.
Izzy lifted her head from her sprawl on the porch. The trio had formed an uneasy truce when Cole hadn’t returned in time to feed Hugo.
Irritation whipped through Scott. If this was her way of forcing him to deal with her K-9 at least she could have warned him.
He glanced at his wrist. “Where the hell is my watch?”
Hugo looked up at Scott then turned and went inside. Great. Even Cole’s dog was giving him the cold shoulder.
Scott rubbed his brow. It wasn’t like Cole to be irresponsible. It wasn’t like her to disappear. It wasn’t like— Oh, hell.
Yardley was right. He didn’t know what Cole was like two years down the road. She must have changed. Everyone changed. She was a seasoned law officer. Still, he didn’t like to think of her wandering around in the dark. She could have gotten turned around, lost. Or, she could be sitting in a roadside café somewhere sulking.
That thought soured his bad mood even more. If she was waiting for him to turn himself inside out and go chasing after her, she would be waiting until hell froze over.
Scott turned back toward the door as the distant rumble of a motorcycle reverberated through the hills. For a moment every muscle in his body tensed as he listened intently. This wasn’t a Harley. It was the rumbling purr of a well-muffled engine. Sighing, he opened the door. “Izzy. Geh rein.”
Izzy climbed to her feet and shuffled through the door.
When the Lab was inside, Hugo emerged at a trot. “Nein, Hugo. Geh rein.”
Ignoring him, Hugo stood on the porch a moment longer listening, Scott supposed, to the motorcycle. Irritated, he repeated his command more sharply. “Hugo. Geh rein.”
Hugo turned his big head in Scott’s direction. That’s when Scott noticed he held something in his mouth. “My watch.”
Hugo put it down. Then with a huff that sounded all too human, the Bouvier went back indoors.
Great. Everyone was giving him attitude tonight.
He picked up his watch and then rubbed the back of his neck. It felt gritty. He needed a shower. If Cole wasn’t back by the time he got out, he supposed he’d have to go looking for her.
*
The sound of the shower curtain being pulled back was his first clue that he was no longer alone.
“What the fuck?” Scott scowled as he turned to face his intruder.
Cole stood there staring, taking in every wet inch of him.
She looked wild. No longer long and straight, her hair was chopped off above her collarbone, the ends wild and uneven, and whipped in all directions. Her cheeks were bright red and in her eyes was a frank “do me” invitation.
The impact of her wide-open gaze connected him instantly to every primitive impluse in him. Nothing rational about the sudden desire to take, conquer, seduce, and possess the woman before him.
Mercifully, just enough of his self-command remained to take control of his mouth.
“Cole?” His control didn’t have much breath to operate with.
She cocked her head to one side, eyes sliding down from his face, past his soapy chest and navel to where rivulets of water snaked into dangerous territory. “Who’s Cole?”
She sounded annoyed, yet there was also mischief and definitely heat in her expression. His dick understood that before his brain did, rising proudly to the occasion he wasn’t yet certain he was being invited to.
Smiling, he braced a hand flat against the tile beside the shower head and propped the other in a fist on his hip.
“Shut up.”