Tucker's Crossing. Marina Adair

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СКАЧАТЬ stopped sleeping in there when Cody was just a boy.

      A flowered sundress hung from the back of the antique vanity. The worn cotton swayed gently, dancing in the breeze that skated through the opened window and bringing with it memories of a happier time and the faint scent of honeysuckle.

      God, how long had it been since Cody had set foot in this room? It was the night he’d come home and found Beau in a pummeled heap on the floor, unconscious and barely breathing. He’d carried him to his truck and promised his brother that neither of them was ever coming back.

      And he’d be damned if he went back on his word, even if Silas Tucker was dead.

      Cody grabbed the handle to close the door when he spotted something that sent his instincts on high alert. Steam was coming up from under the bathroom door.

      He reached inside his bag and extracted his Remington .45, letting the bag crumple to the floor. He’d purposely given the housekeeper the day off and told the foreman to send everyone home early so that the house would be empty.

      Someone obviously hadn’t gotten the message.

      Safety off, he quietly cracked the bathroom door and scanned the room. The rose wallpaper, colored glass bottles, and lace-edged towels were a lot to take in. He could practically hear the sound of the water lapping against the tub wall, feel the burn in his throat, taste the bile, and remember the sight of his mama, her head resting against the ledge, eyes staring into heaven.

      Scented steam curled up from behind the curtain, frosting the mirrors and window. The spray of water on porcelain slowed and stopped with a final trickle.

      The curtain was pulled back, inch by inch, second by second. Unable to focus past the gauzy haze, his lids widened as one feminine leg stepped onto the bath mat, followed by another, until finally, out from the fog emerged . . . Shelby Lynn?

      “What the hell are you doing here?”

      Shelby’s nerves jerked into action as the familiar, masculine voice blasted her. The towel spilled from her fingers to pile at her feet, her eyes ricocheting off the gun and into the dark, molasses pools of her past.

      All she could do was blink wildly, unable to make sense of what she was seeing. Then it all came into focus and she inhaled so hard she was afraid she just might pass out. Facing down six-plus feet of coiled muscle could do that to a girl.

      Unable to think—well, at all—she couldn’t decide if she should answer his question or disappear back into the safety of the shower. Working on pure instinct, she rushed to splay her hands over her most vulnerable parts, contorting her body to appear smaller. Then she met his gaze, those whiskey-brown eyes that had haunted her, and she couldn’t help but remember every masculine detail of the man she had thought she’d lost forever.

      No way. This could not be happening. Shelby had waited nine years, eleven months, and twenty-seven days for this moment. She had prepared a speech. Even practiced it once on one of the cows. But all of the words she might have said, had rehearsed in her mind, vanished. Out of the countless scenarios she’d mentally played out, never once in all that time had she imagined that her reunion with Cody Tucker would take place with her as naked as a centerfold, staring down the barrel of a .45.

      She felt her skin flush from toes to cheeks, and up to her other cheeks. Reaching for her robe, she mentally planned her escape. If she was going to do this, she would damn well be dressed.

      “Don’t even think about moving,” Cody said in that sexy drawl that sent all kinds of unwelcome sensations shooting through her body. He tipped the gun toward her robe, cocky as ever. “Not ’til you answer my question.”

      Shelby swallowed back a frustrated scream and resisted the temptation to kick him. Was he serious? She might have been a yes-girl once upon a time, but she’d changed. She was here to settle the past and fight for her future, and that didn’t include being pushed around.

      “Tough,” she said, acutely aware of her nude state. “I’m tired, got a gun pointed at me, and dripping water all over the rug. Just because you’re finally ready to talk doesn’t mean I’m going to stand here naked to let you do it. You hear me?”

      “Oh, I hear . . .” His eyes traveled the entire length of her very exposed body, as if taking detailed notes of the changes since his exodus from her life. “And see you, perfectly.”

      Ignoring the gun, and that killer smile, Shelby gathered her robe and the courage needed to see this through. She’d answer his question, get him to agree to her proposal, and then he’d leave. And Shelby could get back to her life before her heart was any the wiser.

      Cody leaned comfortably against the door frame. He looked pretty damn good for a guy pointing a gun in her general direction. She, on the other hand, looked a fright. Her skin was all blotchy and she resembled a drowned kitty.

      Cinching the belt of her robe, she did her best to keep her shoulders squared and her expression natural—ignoring Cody’s glare.

      “Didn’t your mama tell you that playing at Goldilocks is illegal?” he asked.

      Never breaking eye contact, Shelby took a challenging step forward, then another one, her chest stopping just short of the barrel. All she’d wanted was to kick her shoes off, take a long shower, and enjoy a moment of peace on what had ended up being a crazy day. Was that so much to hope for?

      “Didn’t your mama teach you it’s rude to point a gun in someone’s face?”

      The minute the words were spoken, Cody shut down. According to Ms. Luella, this bathroom was where, after a horrendous battle with cancer, Cody’s mom had opted for a nice long bath and a bottle of sleeping pills, never imagining a nine-year-old Cody would come home early from school and find her lifeless body.

      But the way he just stood there, the epitome of cool, while Shelby was shaking all the way down to her terry-cloth robe, made her want to knock that arrogant grin from his face. But not like this.

      Then Cody’s gaze met hers, a familiar expression firmly in place, reminding her that her concern was unwarranted. He was, as she remembered him, in control and completely untouchable.

      “Get out,” he said, his voice calm and quiet.

      Ridiculous as it might be, his words cut so deep, Shelby felt them clear down in her bones. This was the man who’d promised to come back for her. Vowed to love her for all time. Then he broke her heart, disappeared, and—for heaven’s sake, had he just threatened her life?

      Despite all that, she just wanted to walk into his arms, tell him how much she’d thought about him over the years, and then shove him into a pile of horse chips.

      “I’m not going anywhere. And you could have knocked.”

      “Why the hell should I have to knock? It’s my house. The foreman assured me the place would be empty when I got here.”

      Sam Holden, the ranch foreman, knew her and Cody’s past. Knew why she was here. She felt a sense of betrayal that he hadn’t bothered to warn her.

      “Yeah, well, Sam should have told me you’d decided to finally pay us all a visit!” Without another word, Shelby shoved past Cody and left, desperate to get space between them before she did something stupid, like shoot him.

      She stayed СКАЧАТЬ