Anything but Mine by Linda Winfree Page B

inhaling her unique scent. He could make up for being stupid enough to let his fear convince him to let her go and too proud to crawl back to her. Arousal tingled to life low in him and he nuzzled her ear, aware of her quick intake of breath. “Let me, Autry. I’ll take care of you, keep you safe.”
    She turned her head, lips whispering against his. “What about Schaefer?”
    He kissed the corner of her mouth, slid his hands to her rounded waist. “Schaefer who?” He moved his lips over hers, tasting, teasing, tantalizing. “All I care about right now is you, me and the baby. We’ll work everything else out later.” He kissed her again and she flicked her tongue across his lips, into his mouth. He groaned. God, he’d missed her, missed the way she softened the edges of his life with her laughter and sauciness. “Say yes, Autry.”
    “A month,” she murmured against his mouth and he resisted a smile. So like her to start adding clauses to an agreement. Always the lawyer. But he could work with a month. He’d solved major cases in less time. “That’s all. If it doesn’t work…”
    “It will.” He’d make sure of it. He’d be everything she needed, everything their child needed. “You’ll see.”
    She tangled her hands in his hair, kissing him deeper, and he tasted something like desperation in her kiss. He lifted his head and nuzzled at her throat. “What’ll it be, Counselor? Your place or mine?”
    She pulled back and looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes shuttered and she smiled, a humorless expression. “Yours.”

    “Nate!” Tick banged on the metal door, careful to keep his body low and to one side. He rested his free hand on his gun.
    Inside, the trailer floor creaked. Blinds in the window rattled and Nate flung the door open. It bounced off the aluminum siding with a bang. He glared at Tick through bleary eyes and scratched his bare chest. “What d’ya want, Calvert? I was sleepin’.”
    More like drinking and half-passed out. Disgust curdled in Tick’s empty stomach. How on earth Virgil and Miranda Holton had produced this good-for-nothing piece of crap was beyond him.
    He narrowed his eyes, still letting his hand rest against the hefty weight of his Glock. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
    Unease flickered in Nate’s murky gaze. “’Bout what?”
    “Your sister.”
    “Which one?” Nate gave a disgusted snort and turned back into the trailer’s dim interior. “I got two.”
    “Now why would I come asking you questions about Madeline?” Tick stepped in behind him, senses recoiling from the smells of stale alcohol, days-old garbage and a bathroom seriously in need of cleaning. Holy hell, how did the guy live like this? “We need to talk about Autry.”
    “Autry.” Nate threw himself into the brown vinyl recliner and picked up a beer can abandoned on the side table. He laughed and swirled the liquid before lifting it to his mouth. “Daddy’s little angel. Pure, perfect Autry.” A hard smirk twisted his lips. “Wonder what Daddy would say if he knew she’s been fucking your boss?”
    Tick smothered a spurt of anger. How did a guy talk about his sister like that? And it wasn’t like Nate should be throwing stones. Even before Helen had gone, he’d frequented the truck stop on 300 and its lot lizards.
    He kept the anger off his face and lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Does he know you hit her?”
    “Shit.” Nate crushed the can under his foot. “So that’s what this is about. Yeah, I lost my temper and I popped her one. She wouldn’t tell me where Helen was.”
    Un-freakin’-believable. “So she deserved it, huh?”
    “Yeah. What’s the big deal?”
    “The big deal is it’s battery and you already have a record.”
    “Yeah, and if Autry was pressing charges, you’d have already had the cuffs on me. You can drop the bluff, Calvert, and get the hell out.”
    “Got a couple of questions for you first.” He glanced around the dark, cramped