Lawless (5 page)

He handed the gun to her, giving her a sexy, sideways
glance.  "Go again, hot shot."

She fired off several more rounds.  Hitting
some and missing more than she'd like.  Each time she finished, he hopped the
fence and then swaggered back to her with a sexy grin.  Each time, increasing
the heat building inside her.  She wasn't quite sure what was going on between
them, but she was definitely more entertained than she'd been in the previous
places Quinn had placed her.

By the time she finished her tenth round, he
called it quits.  "I'm tired of playing fetch for you, darlin'.  Let's
call it a day."

"Really?"  She frowned.  "I was
just getting good at it."

"You definitely have a shooter's eye."

"I don't need you to set up the cans.  I
can do that."  She shrugged.  It was no big deal.  She'd just enjoyed
watching his muscles flex as he jumped the fence.  Having a man around to do
her bidding had been rather pleasant, but she could do this for herself.

He walked closer, stopping just feet from her,
tilting his head so he faced her dead on.  Her pulse paused and then sprinted. 
He held her gaze as he reached between them.  She shifted a nervous glance
downward to see him working the buckle on his holster.  She looked up, the
happiness inside her flipping into a smile.

He removed his holster.  He broke eye contact
with her as he slid the leather strap around her waist, his fingers grazing the
skin near her belly button.  She was suddenly glad she hadn't changed out of
her tank top like she'd planned.  It was an innocent touch, but she liked the
sizzle he left on her skin.

She'd done an excellent job in the years since Danny's
death keeping men at arm's length.  She'd convinced herself she didn't want or
need a man's touch to be happy.  She certainly didn't want to risk someone's
life by falling in love.  But this attraction and playfulness was kind of fun,
and if her father knew, it would really piss him off.

She wasn't sure why flirting with Milo held
such appeal for her.  Deputy Sykes had something about him that had snuck over
or around her protective emotional walls, and she wasn't certain she cared. 
She'd only known him a few hours, but he'd charmed her to the point she couldn't
stop flirting with him.

She glanced at his face as he tightened the
buckle around her.  Light brown stubble scattered along his jawline, giving him
a rugged, sexy look.  A small scar dipped into one side of his top lip.  Lips
that were full and tempting, and really only inches from hers.

She sighed and moved her gaze to his eyes,
surprised to find him watching her.

"Is this okay?"

More than okay.  "The belt?"

"The tightness."  He tugged on the
leather around her waist.  "It doesn't feel like it's going to fall off,
does it?"

She gratefully escaped his vivid stare for a moment
while she gave the belt a tug.  "Feels great—fine," she stammered.  "It's
not going to fall off."

She glanced back, his intriguing orbs a point
of distribution for the awareness that coursed through her body.  He held her
gaze as though he, too, knew they were communicating on more than one level.  "Have
at it then."

She stood frozen for a moment, really, really
wanting to ask him if he meant what she thought he meant…but she couldn't.  She
turned, sensing his full gaze on her as she walked to the fence and climbed
over.  When she reached the other side, sure enough he still stood where she'd
left him, his intense gaze watching her every move, a satisfied grin twisting
his lips.

Lord help her.

Good God.  He leaned back in the porch swing,
trying to remind himself he was currently on duty and not entertaining a
potential lover.  He should be shot for his behavior around Ariana.  She was
not
one of the local gals he loved to turn around the dance floor.  She was a
witness in a major organized crime trial.  He was a sworn officer of the law,
and even though he was no longer a part of the U.S. Marshals, he'd promised
Quinn he'd protect her.

Not flirt with her.  Not tease her until she
smiled.  And definitely not undress her with his eyes.  He watched with utter
interest as she climbed the wooden fence again, admiring the way her tight
jeans showcased the curve of her ass as she straddled the fence.  "Mmm-mmm." 
Then there was always the hope that she'd have her ass toward him as she bent
to pick up a coffee can.

She turned to him, and he tried to keep his
face as passive as possible.  "Did you say something?" she called
across the distance.

"No.  About done?"

"I want to do a few more, if that's okay."

"Knock yourself out."  And knock some
sense into him, too.  He would have her under his protection for the next month
until she was scheduled to testify against her murdering mobster of a father. 
It would show a complete lack of professionalism if he was to start a personal relationship
with her.  If he was still with the Marshals, he could be fired for it.

Ariana bent over, giving him the perfect view. 
Damn.  She stood and looked at him over her shoulder as though she'd known he
was watching.  He quickly glanced away, but he was more than a little certain
she'd busted him.

Oh hell.  Someone save him.  Why couldn't she
have been a fat old man?

He let her go another round, unable to look
away while she seemingly taunted him.  Then, he'd had enough.  He waited until
she retrieved the five cans, trying to ignore the fact she either gave him a
nice view of her ass, or faced him, giving him a peek-a-boo glimpse of her
cleavage as she bent over.  If she looked, she'd find a bulge of heated desire
in his pants.

She sauntered toward him, his gun swinging from
her hips.  She gave him a smile full of mischief.

Enough torture for one day.  He'd reached his
breaking point and needed to cool down.

He approached her and pulled his weapon from
the holster, earning a surprised look from her.  "Want me to show you how it's
really done?"  He turned and fired in rapid succession, sending all five
cans popping from their posts in less than two seconds.  He raised his brows,
giving her a cocky grin as he re-holstered his gun before he turned and headed
for the house.

"Show off," she called after him.

*        *        *

Okay, so she'd been teasing Milo.  He deserved it. 
She had to do something to get even for the way he watched her.  Ariana stopped
on the porch, grinning as she took Milo's seat on the porch swing.  The cushion
was soft against her back, and the swing creaked and groaned as she rocked it.

The guy had been tossing sexual barbs at her from
the moment they'd met.  It was more than fair that she'd caused him to be just
as heated as she was by the time he called the game.  She wasn't a little
schoolgirl who could be swept off her feet by a good-looking guy, even if she'd
always dreamed about a hot cop who'd ride in and save her from her family. 
No.  She would be the one who would extricate herself from her pathetic
family.  But if he wanted to engage in a war of wits while she passed her days,
she was up for it.  To her, there was nothing sexier than a challenge of the
minds.

He might have out shot her that day, but only
physically.  She leaned forward and unbuckled the leather holster, slipping it
from her waist.  She held it in her lap, caressing the worn belt that had looked
so good on him.  It was obvious the soft piece of leather had spent many hours
riding his hips.  She found that infinitely sexy and nothing like the vile holsters
her father's men wore.

She took a few moments to appreciate the quiet
outdoors and then stood.  Everything fun and interesting in her life now waited
inside the door, and the flirting games had just begun.

*        *        *

Ariana woke with a start like she had every
morning since she'd gone into hiding.  She'd woken in far too many different
beds during the last eleven months, and she wondered if she'd ever have a home
again.

The previous night had been a disappointment.  She
rolled out of bed and straightened the bedding.  After she'd returned inside,
Milo had buried himself inside a ridiculously large book, something about
honorable men.  He hadn't surfaced until sometime after she'd given up thinking
he might entertain her, and she'd gone to bed.

She glanced at her closet.  She should probably
toss on something to cover the skimpy pink tank top and short shorts she wore
as pajamas, but there hadn't been room for a robe in her suitcase.  The
irritating sting of being annoyed the previous evening hadn't purged from her
system yet, and she decided if her attire caused him some discomfort, the more
the better.

She emerged from her bedroom to be seduced by the blessed
smell of fresh brewed coffee.  Her eyes drifted shut as she took a moment to
inhale the lovely aroma.  Having someone to look forward to seeing in the
morning, someone to share a meal with…it was nice.

Living alone in different safe houses for the past
few months had been difficult.  It wasn't the same as a person who lived by themselves. 
They saw others during the day.  She'd been
totally
isolated.  She'd had
no one to call, no one to talk to except Quinn, and he couldn't be available
twenty-four seven.  It was no wonder she'd had her weak moments.

She walked the rest of the way down the hall and
into the small kitchen.  She stopped, the smile slipping from her face.

Milo stood at the counter whisking ingredients in
a silver bowl.  Something in the room looked extremely good, and it wasn't the
food he prepared.  He wore no shirt, exposing a massive amount of tanned,
muscled chest.  The white bandage stood out on his tanned arm.  His blue
flannel pants rode low on his hips, and his blond locks stood out, as though he'd
done nothing but run his fingers through his hair that morning.

She had to wonder if he'd had a similar plan to try
and exact some vengeance for her relentless teasing the previous evening while
they'd been shooting targets.  If so, he scored some serious points.

Milo chose that moment to look up, the whisk
slowing and then stopping as his gaze inched down her body.  A point for her? 
Or two points for him, she wondered as her body reacted to his searing look.  Perhaps
she'd made a mistake offering up so much bare skin in an attempt to tease him.

"Morning," he said as their eyes met
again.  He gave a slight shake of his head and focused on the bowl in front of
him.

"Morning."  She approached, achingly
aware of her attraction to him.  "Can I help?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye.  "Sure. 
You can wash and cut up the strawberries in the fridge."

She padded to the other side of the sink,
stealing several glances at him while his back was to her.  A rogue thought
snuck under her radar, daring her to run a finger across the firm skin of his
back.  She resisted, but it was no easy feat.

The potency of her thoughts surprised her.  She'd
never had a hard time steering clear of men.  But one look at this small-town
deputy, and she couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to find
herself in his arms.

It seemed her sanity would be the price of her
time in isolation.

She couldn't help her thoughts, though.  The
man had a multitude of attractive qualities.  It seemed he could cook a decent
meal.  He was funny as well as charming and wielded a pistol like a deadly
extension of his body.  And the twinkle in his blue eyes was enough to melt the
coldest woman's heart.  Yet, he was still single.

"Why aren't you married?"  The words
slipped out before she'd realized the implications of her question.

He glanced her over as though sizing her up.  "I
don't know.  I guess I'm waiting for the right one to come along."

A quick flash of energy zipped through her.  "Of
course.  I didn't mean to pry."  She shouldn't have asked in the first
place.  She busied herself removing the package of strawberries from the
fridge.

"Colander?" she asked as she stepped
to the sink.

"In the cupboard above the stove." 
He bent over and removed a waffle iron from a cabinet.

She glanced between his rear end and the overhead
cupboard as she opened it and stood on tiptoes, reaching for the silver
strainer that was stacked on top of various mixing bowls.  He had such an
attractive build.  For someone of Milo's stature, the colander would be a
breeze to reach, but it was just out of her grasp.  She slid the whole stack of
bowls toward her, intending to remove them all to reach the colander, but he
distracted her as he stood, and the stack tipped.

His bare arm brushed against hers as he made a
quick move and caught the dishes before they tumbled down on her.  He slid the
bowls back in, removing the colander and holding it out to her.

 He was so close, and all her attention
centered on the spot where their bodies had touched.  She tried to inhale,
wondering if he'd somehow stolen the oxygen in the room.  "Thank you,"
she whispered.  She turned on the water, using the strawberries as a
distraction.

They worked in silence for several minutes, him
cooking the waffles and her slicing juicy red berries.  When everything was
complete, they carried their offerings to the table.  Ariana poured two cups of
coffee and sat.  Milo joined her with a can of whipped cream in his hand.

She eyed the can and then him as he sat
opposite her.  "Whipped cream for breakfast?" she asked, unable to
resist the tease.

"I like it."  He raised a challenging
brow.

She smiled as she lowered her gaze to the stack
of golden brown waffles in front of her and slid one on to her plate.  She
topped it with strawberries.  Flirting with him might be a dangerous pastime,
but she couldn't resist the flush of adrenaline that flooded her veins every
time they bantered.