Crystal Jordan - If You Believe

She nodded and forced herself to face the destruction. It was just as bad as it had been, and she swayed a little on her feet as the details bombarded her again. Strong arms caught her, tugged her against a broad chest. She leaned against him, buried her nose in his chest and inhaled the scent of him and his spicy cologne, and let herself be weak for a moment longer. But the feel of his hard planes molding to her softer curves sent a shock of lust through her that curled her toes. One of his hands stroked up her spine and bracketed the nape of her neck, tilting her head back until she looked him in the eyes. They really were the most incredible shade of green. Her body reacted, loosening some muscles, tightening others as it prepared for sex. She could feel the impressive length of his erection riding against her belly. Moisture flooded her core, and her pussy clenched. Her nipples hardened while the rest of her melted against him, a throb of utter want going through her. His gaze sharpened, focusing on her lips and she was certain he was going to kiss her. The heat reflected in his eyes was enough to burn.

Burn.

The word jolted her back to reality. She was standing in her burned-out building ready to shove a man she’d only just met against the nearest wall and jump his bones. What the hell was the matter with her?

“Are you all right, Ms. Mathison?” His voice was a harsh rasp, showing that he was as affected by this as she was. It was a very small comfort. His grip on her eased, and her hormones whimpered at the loss of contact. His tone gentled. “Aubrey?”

Forcing herself to pull away, she shoved a hand through her newly shortened hair and waved the other in a vague circle that encompassed the room. “I—I’m fine. Sorry about that. It’s shocking seeing it like this.”

“It’s hard to see something you love in shambles.” He squeezed her shoulder gently before stepping away. “Are you ready?”

She swallowed and nodded. Somehow it was bearable with him there as a solid, steady presence. It emanated from the man—rock-solid, dependable, a man who’d seen it all and still held people’s hands when their lives fell apart.

Like he had with her. It was odd to know so much about him in just those few moments of interaction, but somehow she was certain she wasn’t wrong. She could understand why they’d hired him as police chief.

Working their way through the shop, she explained the details of what happened the day before. What she could remember of it. Some of it was a confused blur of chaos, heat and panic. She doubted she’d ever remember all of what happened clearly. Her throat was parched and swollen from all the talking when she came to a halt beside the stove. “So, are we done here?”

“Yes.” He tucked his pen and paper back in his jacket. “You can pick up the report this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Then she’d have make sure it got to her insurance agency, schedule some estimates for repairs, close down until the repairs were complete and they got the horrible stink out of her shop. A headache throbbed behind her eyes when she started making a list of everything she had to do, and she shoved all thought of the delicious Chief Delacroix from her mind. She had bigger things to deal with.

If Jericho was right, and the Big Man Upstairs did this on purpose, she was ready to kick Him in the shins for it.

A week later, she was checking the progress on Bean There, Done That. Her insurance agent was still duking it out with the company that had installed the sprinkler system, but she’d gotten the green light on starting repairs. She had a feeling Price had stepped in and smoothed over a few bumps for her in that little snafu. He’d never said anything about it, but he’d been by a few times to see how she was doing, always polite, always watchful, always with that simmer of too-tempting awareness in his gaze.

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she ignored thoughts of Price and focused on her shop. The nauseating smell seemed to have dissipated. Thank goodness. The ceiling and floor tiles around the stove needed replacing, as did the stove and the counter beside it. A fresh coat of paint would cover up the blackened wall behind the stove. Every bit of cloth, from curtains to chair cushions to dishrags had to go. They all stank of smoke.

She’d already hired a crew who specialized in fire damage to scrub the place from top to bottom and had done a whole lot of the nasty work herself. Bone-deep exhaustion sapped at her strength, but Bean There, Done That was starting to look as good as ever. A little spark of joy lit inside her. She rubbed her hand down the new door that separated the front and back rooms.

Yeah. Everything was going to be okay. Some quiet panic that had gripped her belly and weighed on her chest since she’d seen the damage began to ease. Bean There, Done That had been her lifeline, her escape. A shaky sigh eased past her lips.

After all the workmen filed out for the day, she locked up behind them and walked across the street. She had to pass through the park to get home. Jericho sat in his normal place on the park bench. Her stride checked a bit when she saw him. His prediction about the fire still freaked her out a bit.

Get over yourself, Aubrey. The man is off his meds. She snorted and jogged across the street, automatically rooting around the bottom of her purse for coins. Crazy or not, he was a vagabond with no real way to get food.

He smiled his usual smile as she approached. “Hi there. How’s the restoration coming?”

“Just peachy, thanks.” She handed over the change. “How’re you?”

“Good, good.” He waved her off. She sped past, relieved he didn’t say anything weird this time. A ridiculous amount of gratitude filled her at the reprieve. “Hang on a second, Aubrey.”

Freezing, she muttered every curse she knew under her breath. She even came up with a couple of inventive compound cusswords. Smiling—and hoping it didn’t look more like a grimace—she turned around. “Yeah?”

Mr. Crazy Man was back. He hummed a little before speaking again. “Dogs are bad luck for you today.”

Shit. She hunched her shoulder and spun away. “Thanks.”

If she went her normal route home, she’d have to pass by the dog park that made up a corner of the town square.

Maybe she would try a different way. Just for the change of scenery. Change was good for the soul, wasn’t it? If she went by the dog park, it just seemed like too much self-fulfilling prophecy.

Taking a left off the main path where she usually took a right, she wandered into the older district of town that had great Victorian houses. She’d always loved that style of architecture, but Scott had wanted modern. Now that she lived alone, it just seemed like too much upkeep. And maybe it was because she was afraid it would put her one step away from crazy cat lady to rattle around in a big old house like that. She turned the corner on to her street. She had four blocks left to go.

“Woof.” Her blood ran cold at the deep bark that came from behind her. A lot of people walked these streets in the evening. And took their dogs with them.

A kid of about twelve had lost the leash on his Great Dane. The air went whistling out of her in what might have been a high-pitched squeak.

It wasn’t that she believed Jericho or anything, but the fire thing had kind of creeped her out. Watching that pony-sized excuse for a dog running at her made her blood run cold. Anyone would freak out. It had nothing to do with Jericho’s warning. Nope. Not a thing.

She backpedaled as fast as her legs could carry her just the same. The back of her ankles hit something that yelped and the next thing she knew she was going down hard on the pavement. Her back arched when her tailbone made sharp contact with the ground and all the breath rushed out of her lungs. Curling into a fetal position on her side, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tried remember why she didn’t want to die right then. When she opened her eyes, a pointy little muzzle snapped in her face as a dachshund yapped. Dog breath, blech. She groaned and pushed into a sitting position. A strong arm wrapped around her back to cradle her against a wide chest. Price Delacroix.

“Don’t move, Aubrey.” His deep voice rumbled, and that was all it took to get her hot and bothered. Her sex dampened at the sound of his rich, deep tones. The way he smelled. The hardness of his muscles against her body. Thank you, Jesus.

“I’m fine.” She tried to pretend the breathiness of her voice was just from having the wind knocked out of her. The way her nipples tightened and her muscles softened told her it was a lie.

“You took a hard fall. Stay there.” His words were almost harsh, but his touch was gentle when he brushed her hair away from her face. She fought the urge to lean her cheek into his palm. Everything about this man made her react. Her original assessment that the two of them were destined to burn up the sheets was dead on. She really wanted to try him on for size. She’d bet he fit just fine. “I’m really all right, Chief.” “Price. You’ll call me Price.” His other arm slid under her bent knees and lifted her as he stood. She squeaked and clutched his shoulders. His soft T-shirt bunched in her fingers as she held on tight. “Don’t drop me.”

A wicked grin flashed over his face before he focused on her eyes. Some of her panic must have shown because he cuddled her closer. “Not a chance, sugar.”

“Is she all right, Chief Delacroix?” Mrs. Chambers, the biggest gossip in town, reined in her wiener dog and stared at the two of them.

“Oh, she’s fine. Ma’am.” He dipped his head in a nod, dismissing the older woman while he turned to walk up the driveway in front the big Victorian on the corner. She sighed in envy when she saw it. She glanced over his shoulder at Mrs. Chambers. An avid gleam entered the older woman’s eyes as he mounted the porch. Pitching her voice low, Aubrey had to warn him. “Look, I know you’re new in town, but Mrs. Chambers—”