it.”
“Except for the part where the guy followed JD, ran him off the road and robbed him.”
“That’s a possible scenario.”
Yeah. The probable scenario.
“That’s all we’ve got.”
And from his tone, all they were willing to do. JD had been released. Wasn’t even in town. The new sheriff would see no reason to expend time or resources on finding JD’s property or identity.
So no help there.
Next she called a friend from her boot camp days. Doug worked for the FBI, in the San Francisco office. She considered him their best bet for finding JD’s identity because the government had face-recognition technology. The San Francisco Police Department may have it as well, but accessing it wouldn’t be so easy. She didn’t have any connections there, and it could take a while to get results.
She called Doug, but it turned out he and his wife were visiting her parents in Bend, Oregon, and he wouldn’t be back in the office until Monday. Great. She could imagine JD’s reaction to the delay. Good news, though. Doug was willing to help once he got back in town.
She sank back in the deep red chair, happy she’d gone with Pinnacle Express. She’d stayed at a few and never had complaints. So much better than the Shabby Inn. She enjoyed the muted grays, the push of red, the modern furnishings and artwork. And the large sleeping rooms, though sharing with a six-foot-plus man sure put large into perspective.
Sitting in the lobby watching families come and go, she felt safe, comfortable. Simple emotions most people in the United States took for granted, but she’d sat or patrolled in plenty of locations that didn’t encourage such simple emotions.
Before her father’s illness, she’d planned to finish her career in the navy. Now, she was glad to be home, looked forward to finding a place and making it her own.
But first she had to help JD find his home.
With him in mind, she stopped in the gift shop on her way back to the room and picked up a disposable razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and a new T-shirt. It wasn’t much and wouldn’t last long, but it was a start. Shopping didn’t strike her as an activity high on JD’s list of favorite things to do. Hopefully he’d view a trip to obtain new clothes and a few personal items as forward momentum in his quest.
The selection consisted of shirts with towering redwoods, seascapes and big block letters spelling out CALIFORNIA. She decided on the redwoods, but, of course, there were none in his size.
The man was really running on a bad streak of luck—or she was. Grace hadn’t decided which yet.
Given the size of JD’s shoulders, his choice of shirt came down to a kelly green with seals frolicking on a beach or a bright red with California blazoned across the chest. She went for the red. The green might work well with his eyes, but he didn’t strike her as a seal guy.
Which was only half the truth of why she chose the red. The truth had to do with the fact his green eyes were distracting enough without having them made more prominent by the color of his shirt. Her mind zigged right from thoughts of his gorgeous eyes to forbidden wonderings about his bone-melting kiss.
It started out so soft and grew into a searing melding of mouths, all while he cradled her to his hard body with a surety and strength that kindled a sense of passion and security. He pushed past her defenses until her body ignited, and then he eased off and apologized.
How mean was that?
She’d be a lot happier if she could relegate the incident to a dream rather than to a memory.
The last thing she remembered from the night before was her irritation at his prime body and sulky attitude. She’d been sitting in the chair, waiting for access to the bathroom, when he strolled out in nothing but his underwear and passed her as casually as if he was two and she his mother.
Not feeling motherly, uh-uh, not at all.
Which was why the kiss was so forbidden.
So yeah, the kiss would
“Except for the part where the guy followed JD, ran him off the road and robbed him.”
“That’s a possible scenario.”
Yeah. The probable scenario.
“That’s all we’ve got.”
And from his tone, all they were willing to do. JD had been released. Wasn’t even in town. The new sheriff would see no reason to expend time or resources on finding JD’s property or identity.
So no help there.
Next she called a friend from her boot camp days. Doug worked for the FBI, in the San Francisco office. She considered him their best bet for finding JD’s identity because the government had face-recognition technology. The San Francisco Police Department may have it as well, but accessing it wouldn’t be so easy. She didn’t have any connections there, and it could take a while to get results.
She called Doug, but it turned out he and his wife were visiting her parents in Bend, Oregon, and he wouldn’t be back in the office until Monday. Great. She could imagine JD’s reaction to the delay. Good news, though. Doug was willing to help once he got back in town.
She sank back in the deep red chair, happy she’d gone with Pinnacle Express. She’d stayed at a few and never had complaints. So much better than the Shabby Inn. She enjoyed the muted grays, the push of red, the modern furnishings and artwork. And the large sleeping rooms, though sharing with a six-foot-plus man sure put large into perspective.
Sitting in the lobby watching families come and go, she felt safe, comfortable. Simple emotions most people in the United States took for granted, but she’d sat or patrolled in plenty of locations that didn’t encourage such simple emotions.
Before her father’s illness, she’d planned to finish her career in the navy. Now, she was glad to be home, looked forward to finding a place and making it her own.
But first she had to help JD find his home.
With him in mind, she stopped in the gift shop on her way back to the room and picked up a disposable razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and a new T-shirt. It wasn’t much and wouldn’t last long, but it was a start. Shopping didn’t strike her as an activity high on JD’s list of favorite things to do. Hopefully he’d view a trip to obtain new clothes and a few personal items as forward momentum in his quest.
The selection consisted of shirts with towering redwoods, seascapes and big block letters spelling out CALIFORNIA. She decided on the redwoods, but, of course, there were none in his size.
The man was really running on a bad streak of luck—or she was. Grace hadn’t decided which yet.
Given the size of JD’s shoulders, his choice of shirt came down to a kelly green with seals frolicking on a beach or a bright red with California blazoned across the chest. She went for the red. The green might work well with his eyes, but he didn’t strike her as a seal guy.
Which was only half the truth of why she chose the red. The truth had to do with the fact his green eyes were distracting enough without having them made more prominent by the color of his shirt. Her mind zigged right from thoughts of his gorgeous eyes to forbidden wonderings about his bone-melting kiss.
It started out so soft and grew into a searing melding of mouths, all while he cradled her to his hard body with a surety and strength that kindled a sense of passion and security. He pushed past her defenses until her body ignited, and then he eased off and apologized.
How mean was that?
She’d be a lot happier if she could relegate the incident to a dream rather than to a memory.
The last thing she remembered from the night before was her irritation at his prime body and sulky attitude. She’d been sitting in the chair, waiting for access to the bathroom, when he strolled out in nothing but his underwear and passed her as casually as if he was two and she his mother.
Not feeling motherly, uh-uh, not at all.
Which was why the kiss was so forbidden.
So yeah, the kiss would
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