Beauty and the Mustache

Page 22

He was not a muscular, six-foot police officer with a golden tan, a sandy beard, and a manly-man voice.

“Ashley, it’s Jackson.” His grin became lopsided and boyish. “Don’t tell me I’ve changed that much.”

I flinched when I finally recognized him because he had changed that much, but his smile was exactly the same.

“Oh my dear Lord!” I blurted then shot to my feet, letting go of Drew’s hand. “Jackson James?”

Jackson came around the table, nodding the whole time. “Girl, what the hell happened to you? You look like you just fought off a black bear.”

“You have no idea.” A laugh tumbled from my lips as he folded me into his arms, giving me a big hug.

Jackson withdrew but continued to hold my hands in his. “I heard a little of it on the radio when it was called in.” Jackson’s eyes flickered over my shoulder to where Drew stood behind me, then they came back to rest on my face. “I heard about your momma. I’m so sorry.”

I flinched again, this time because I’d completely forgotten about what was going on with my momma. I’d been entirely wrapped up in surviving; then, when it was over and I was safe, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything tangible except Drew’s impossibly handsome facial features, the warmth of his hands, the deep steadiness of his voice, and his shirtlessness.

“I’m so sorry,” Jackson repeated, squeezing my hand. “I wondered if you would be in town. I’m just sorry it had to take a bear attack for us to run into each other.”

“I’m surprised you decided to come all the way out here.” This comment came from Jethro, who was suddenly at my side. My brother’s proximity forced Jackson to drop my hands and take a step backward. “Isn’t this a little out of your jurisdiction, Jack?”

“Yes, to be honest. Yes it is.” Jackson’s eyes flickered between mine and Jethro’s, his expression open and guileless. “But the report made it sound like there was an exchange of gunfire. And when I heard Ashley’s name….”

I felt a hand on my hip and a chest at my back. I deduced it was Drew’s when he whispered, “Let me take you to get you cleaned up,” his breath warm on my neck.

Unthinkingly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, I leaned back against him. He slipped his arm around my waist and turned slightly to address the room.

“That’s enough,” Drew said. “She’s done. You all need to leave.”

I wasn’t surprised when no one argued this time, given the tone of his voice. Even if he didn’t have several inches on every man in the room, Drew’s commanding presence and aura of perpetual in-chargeness would have been enough. I surmised that when Drew Runous put his foot down about a matter, nobody was quick to contradict.

Bearded men were grabbing their hats and muttering to each other, their shoes scuffing on the wooden floor as they departed. I didn’t miss that Jackson’s eyes were focused on Drew’s arm around my waist before they lifted to mine.

“I’ll stop by the house this week so we can catch up.” He gave me a friendly smile. “You’re a very lucky young lady, Ashley Winston.”

I blinked at him, but couldn’t find the words to respond that luck had nothing to do with my survival. Me being a badass, however, might have been involved; also, Drew’s gun. Jackson didn’t seem to mind my silence because he gave me a wink and left without saying anything further.

Drew turned to Jethro and said over my head, “I’ll take her with me; you’ve got that trip to prep for.”

Jethro squeezed my shoulder. “Thanks.” My big brother then gave me a kiss on the forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I nodded and Jethro gave me an affectionate smile; he then crossed to the other rangers and gathered what he needed for his trip.

Drew turned me toward him, but I watched Jethro’s back as he left the cabin. When I was alone with a shirtless Drew, I lifted my eyes to his.

As usual, he was watching me, but his gaze was devoid of the weird, intense heat that he’d employed the first few days of our acquaintance. He seemed to be regarding me with measured yet detached interest.

“You have a history with Jack?”

I nodded. “He was my high school boyfriend.”

Drew frowned. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

A spike of irritation shot up my spine and I stepped away from him, the day’s events and lingering adrenaline fueling my blunt response. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but growing up, Jackson James was the only person other than my momma who didn’t see me as an ignorant, disposable piece of ass. He saw more in me than what I looked like. At least, I thought he did. But the years have given me wisdom. I’ve learned that no amount of good intentions or education on my part are going to change people’s first impressions of me, or seeing what they want to see. I might be able to debate the merits of Gestalt theory with acuity and confidence, but that doesn’t make a lick of difference if the other person isn’t even listening. So I guess you could say that I am smarter than that now.”

Drew’s eyes sparked hot and fierce as I spoke, but I got the impression the ferocity wasn’t directed at me. When I finished, he was once again glaring at me with his trademark heated intensity, but it was subdued and hesitant like he was trying to rein himself in. Several long moments passed, our bodies swaying toward each other. I felt like I was being pulled toward him, I was dizzy with it.

Or maybe it was just low blood sugar.

I broke the silence, no longer able to tolerate the electrified tension between us. “I can drive myself, you know. I did drive here earlier. Momma’s car is down the hill.”

Drew frowned, his eyes moving over my body, assessing me. “When’s the last time you ate?”

I stared at him and rewound the day. When I came up empty, I rewound yesterday. I swallowed and said, “I had a bagel.”

“When?”

“For breakfast.”

“When?”

I pressed my lips together and scowled. “Yesterday.”

He watched me for a beat, but before he could issue his retort, I yielded. “Fine. You have a good point. I shouldn’t be driving when I’m exhausted and lightheaded from hunger. Point made and conceded. Moving on….”

I rocked on my feet, feeling slightly dizzy, and I had to take a step back and hold on to the table to steady myself. Drew wrapped his arm around my back to keep me upright.

“I’m carrying you,” he growled, though he didn’t sound put out. Mostly he sounded determined.

“Don’t be stupid,” I said and pushed him away. “I can walk.”

“Ash….” My name was a whisper close to my ear. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You needed it earlier.”

“I didn’t need you. I just needed your gun.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Drew close his eyes slowly, his mouth pressing into a stiff line. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or trying to keep himself from blurting that’s what she said.

At length he cleared his throat and lifted me into his arms. I thought about pitching a fit but decided against it. Really, I only had enough energy for an eye roll.

“I’m carrying you down the hill.”

“Fine.”

“Then I’m driving.”

“Whatever.”

“After that you’re going to eat.”

“Okay.”

“Then you’ll sleep.”

“Sounds great.”

Drew glared down at me in his arms and mumbled, “‘Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent.’”

Good Lord, I must’ve been half-unhinged, because that Nietzsche quote made me laugh.

CHAPTER 10

“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.”

? Jane Austen

Drew gave me a protein bar when we reached his truck. He motioned to it with his hand and his chin, indicating that I should eat it. I surmised we were now past the point where he felt it necessary to issue verbal commands. Mere gestures had become completely acceptable.

The only time Drew spoke to me during the drive was when I reached for the brown leather-bound notebook in the center console of the truck.

“Don’t touch that.” He snatched it away from me and placed it in the driver’s side door pocket.

I held my hands up, gripping the empty protein bar wrapper in one fist. “Fine. I wasn’t going to read it. I was just moving it so I could put the wrapper in the cup holder. What is it, anyway, your diary?”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he appeared to be tremendously intent on the road even though he could probably drive these switchbacks blindfolded.

Abruptly he ground out, “It’s field notes. Don’t touch it again.”

We didn’t speak again during the drive, and soon I was lulled to sleep by the ups and downs and twists and turns of the mountain road.

I woke up on a couch that I didn’t recognize in a very dim, unfamiliar room. I must have slept a long time because I could see the moon through a series of windows that spanned and entire wall. The moon cast everything in a pale, silvery light that reminded me of Drew’s eyes…and that thought made me feel warm and discombobulated. Therefore, I pushed it away.

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