Bachelor Cop Finally Caught? (Hot Off The Press Book 2) Read online

  “I don’t want to hear any more maybes. I want some definites, you hear? These fires have affected nearly everyone in town. Folks are getting scared. Truman Kellogg died, and now his old friend Stan has lost his insurance company. Six others have seen empty buildings they owned burned to the ground. We’ve got to stop this.”

  “I’ll do my best,” was all Dan could say.

  “Do that.”

  The frustrated public official stormed off to harass the fire chief. Squeezing the painfully tight muscles at the back of his neck, Dan stayed where he was, scanning the small crowd of gawkers that had gathered across the street. Eddie Stamps wasn’t among them. Could one of these other morbidly fascinated voyeurs have been the fire starter?

  Drawing a deep breath of smoke-tainted air, he started to move toward the onlookers, deciding he might as well chat with some of them, see what his hunches told him, if anything.

  Maybe it was one of those hunches that made him pause just then and look over his shoulder, searching for Lindsey. Was she, too, talking to bystanders, getting impressions of their reactions? She was a damned good judge of character, with great instincts. If she hadn’t chosen journalism as a career, she would have made a great cop.

  He frowned when he saw that she was standing very close to the burning building, talking to a busy hose man. No one else could have gotten away with it, of course. Other civilians were being held at a safe distance, out of everyone’s way. Only Lindsey could have charged right into the thick of the action, and not only was no one yelling at her to back off, but they were managing to answer her questions without even hesitating in their jobs.

  Lindsey had a way of getting what she wanted.

  He was just about to turn back to the crowd of spectators when the whole side of the building where Lindsey was standing exploded outward.

  Dan’s paralysis must have lasted only a moment in reality, but it seemed like a lifetime. When he could move, he bolted toward the smoking pile of glass and rubble that had once been a wall. “Lindsey!”

  Lindsey had a monster of a headache. There were other aches and pains all over her body, but the pounding in her head made those other complaints seem insignificant. It didn’t help that her ears were still ringing from the explosion. And it really didn’t help that Dan kept yelling at her.

  Okay, maybe he wasn’t exactly yelling at her, she amended, reaching up to touch the bandage at her right temple. Actually, he was keeping his voice low, clipped and measured. She would almost prefer yelling to this chilly composure.

  She sat at the end of a hospital examining table, her bare legs dangling beneath the short hem of a thin hospital gown. Dan stood beside her, where he’d been almost the entire time since they’d brought her in an hour earlier. As soon as he’d been assured that she was going to be fine, he’d started lecturing her about being where she shouldn’t have been in pursuit of her story.

  “Dan?” she interrupted hopefully.

  “What?”

  “Could you maybe yell at me some more later? I’m a little tired.”

  He frowned a moment, then sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “I know you aren’t up to a chewing-out right now. But, damn it, Lindsey, you scared the boots off me.”

  Her brief laugh was a bit shaky. “I scared my own boots off. But I’m fine, Dan. Really.”

  He gave her a comprehensive once-over that only made her more aware of her assorted cuts, scrapes and bruises—none of them serious, but all of them uncomfortable.

  “Okay,” she said before he could make the obvious comment. “I know I don’t look fine. But I am.”

  “Yeah, well—you’re just lucky. It could have been a damn sight worse.”

  Lindsey was all-too-painfully aware of that. It had been a near miracle that neither she nor anyone else was seriously injured when one side of the insurance building had unexpectedly exploded. Fortunately, the majority of the debris had blown toward an area where no one had been standing, with only scattered pieces flying in other directions. Lindsey and two firefighters had been knocked down by the initial force of the blast and then pelted with small pieces of glass and rubble, but the most serious injury was the hose man’s broken arm. They had all been lucky, she thought again.

  She shifted on the uncomfortable table. “I wish Dr. Frank would hurry and clear me to leave. I’m ready to go home.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider staying a few more hours for observation.”

  She shook her head with a force that only made the pounding worse. “I want to go home. I hate being in the hospital. But there’s no need for you to hang around. I know you have a lot to do.”

  “I have people working on the investigation. They know how to reach me if they need me. I’ll stay and take you home when Dr. Frank releases you.”

  He was obviously shaken by her close call, but she wasn’t sure how to interpret his overreaction. She had to caution herself not to read too much into it.

  Another twenty minutes passed before she was finally released to leave. She left wearing a borrowed set of green scrubs because her own clothes had been so tattered and soiled she hadn’t wanted to put them back on. Her car had been left behind at the fire scene, but Dan had arranged for one of his officers to drive it to Lindsey’s house. Dan took her home from the hospital in his truck.

  The sun had risen by the time Lindsey wearily unlocked her front door. Every muscle in her body ached and her head still throbbed, but she was very glad to be home.

  “You have those pain pills the doctor gave you?” Dan asked from behind her, closing the door.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll take one later.”

  “Take one now.” He tossed his jacket over the back of the couch. “Then get into bed.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, she gave him a look. “Getting a bit carried away with the bossiness, aren’t you?”

  Unabashed, he shrugged. “I told Dr. Frank I would make sure you followed his orders.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of following his instructions without supervision.”

  “I’m sure you are. I’ll get you a glass of water so you can take your pill.”

  She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t give up until he’d personally witnessed her swallowing the medication. It wasn’t that she was especially opposed to taking the pain pill—she hurt badly enough to do so willingly—but she didn’t want Dan to get in the habit of bossing her around. Treating her like a child again.

  Accepting the glass of water he brought her, she swallowed the pill. “There. Are you happy?” she challenged him.

  He caught her off guard by lifting a hand to gently touch the bandage on her forehead. “How can you even ask me that when you look like this?”

  A wave of warmth flooded through her, making her knees weaken. It was very hard to be sensible and levelheaded when he said things like that. When he looked at her that way.

  He was the one who abruptly stepped back. “Get into bed,” he said gruffly. “I need to make a few phone calls, then I’ll be in to see if you need anything.”

  “You need to get some rest yourself. You’ve been up almost all night.”

  “I’ll take a nap later. You don’t mind if I use your phone, do you?”

  “Of course not.” She stifled a yawn, wondering if exhaustion was catching up with her or if the pain-killers were already kicking in. “Help yourself to anything you want from the kitchen and lock the door behind you when you leave.”

  She was already on her way to her bedroom when she added that last unnecessary instruction. She had no doubt that Dan would lock up. If it were up to him, he’d probably keep her behind a fortified barricade.

  She just wished she knew exactly what lay behind his tender solicitations. Friendship—or more?

  Dan made a half dozen phone calls and drank two cups of coffee before he decided to check on Lindsey. He’d heard no sounds in the house since shortly after she’d gone off to bed, so he assumed she was sleeping
, but he wanted to make sure she looked comfortable.

  Stepping into the bedroom gave him an odd feeling. It had been years since he’d been inside that room. The early-morning sunlight filtered through her filmy curtains, providing plenty of illumination. Dan noticed immediately that the decor had changed significantly since the last time he’d visited it. The lace and ruffles were gone, as were the teddy bears, dolls and unicorn figurines—all except for the one on her dresser. The one he’d given her only weeks ago for her birthday, he thought with a frown.

  Didn’t she like unicorns anymore? If not, why the hell hadn’t she said so?

  The white French Provincial furniture from her girlhood had been replaced by what appeared to be an antique pecan set. Maybe from the early 1900s, he hazarded, though he was hardly an expert on furniture periods. She’d used deep, rich colors in fabrics and throw pillows—greens and burgundies that made the room feel warm and cozy.

  Having finally procrastinated as long as he could, he turned his attention to the big bed.

  Lindsey was curled in the center of the mattress, almost hidden by pillows and bedcovers. She lay on her side, one small hand resting beside her face. Her dark lashes were fanned across cheeks that were still too pale for his peace of mind, and the bandage at her temple gleamed whitely beneath strands of tousled red hair. Her full, soft lips were moist and lightly parted, her breathing slow and even.

  She looked young and vulnerable lying there in her sleep—but he no longer saw her as a child. He almost wished he could. It had been a hell of a lot simpler when she was just B.J.’s little sister.

  Some magnetic force drew him closer to the bed. He stood there with his hands buried deep in his pockets, his gaze focused unblinkingly on Lindsey’s mouth. He didn’t even try to pretend he was unaware of the urge to crawl into that bed with her. His entire body ached with the desire to do just that. He wanted her. Apparently, he’d wanted her even before he had realized it.

  Acknowledging that hunger scared the stuffing out of him.

  He remembered her telling him that at least he knew now that there was something to be nervous about. She’d said so right after she’d asked if she scared him—and he’d very honestly answered that she did.

  He’d have to be blind and stupid not to recognize the signals she’d been sending him—and, apparently, he’d been both until quite recently. When had she decided she wanted more from him than platonic friendship? And why couldn’t she see what a really bad idea it was?

  He’d gone through his list of reasons so many times he could reel it off without even stopping to think now. He was a decade older than her—and sometimes felt considerably older than that. She was eager, optimistic, idealistic; he was wary, bitter and jaded. She was poised for a great future in her career, ready for opportunities she couldn’t find here in Edstown; he was comfortably settled in a job he didn’t want to leave. Even their careers clashed—his job required some degree of secrecy, while hers was based on unearthing as much information as possible. He was a confirmed workaholic, and she would probably—and understandably—expect quite a bit of attention in a relationship.

  Even as he mentally recited the list, he knew it was mostly camouflage. The real reason he was reluctant to even consider getting involved with Lindsey was that he was terrified of hurting her—and equally terrified of being hurt again himself.

  Some self-protective instinct told him a mistake with Lindsey could make the demoralizing catastrophe with Melanie seem like a minor annoyance.

  Lindsey sighed in her sleep and shifted in the bed, dislodging her cozy pile of covers. She’d changed from the scrubs into a white cotton nightgown, he noted. He couldn’t resist reaching out to pull the covers back over her, smoothing them carefully to her bruised chin. The back of his fingers brushed her cheek—and there was no way he could keep from noticing the velvety softness of her skin.

  Again, his body reacted with painful intensity. His hand was unsteady when he drew it back and shoved it in his pocket again—not as easy a task this time since his jeans had grown considerably tighter.

  While he still retained a modicum of common sense, he backed away from the bed and turned toward the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Lindsey woke with a low moan. It was almost as if pain had been prowling like a cat around her bed, waiting for her to wake up so it could pounce. And pounce it did—invading every muscle of her body.

  She had hit the pavement hard when the force of the explosion knocked her off her feet. She had the scrapes and bruises to prove it—but at least she didn’t have any serious injuries, she reminded herself bracingly.

  Forcing herself to open her eyes, she focused on the bedside clock, waiting until her vision cleared so she could read the time. She was startled to see that it was after eleven. She never slept that late. The pain pill must have really knocked her out.

  Yawning, she crawled out of the bed, muttering a curse in response to her battered body’s protests. Accustomed to excellent health and fitness, she hated being incapacitated in even a minor way. Maybe a hot shower would help ease the soreness out of her muscles.

  Fifteen minutes later she headed for the kitchen. She’d dressed in a loose sweatshirt and leggings, both soft and nonbinding in deference to her bruises. No makeup, and her hair was a mess, but what did it matter? There was no one to see her.

  Intent on filling her empty stomach, she almost missed seeing the man sleeping on her couch.

  Doing a classic double take, she stopped and stared, not quite trusting her eyesight. What was Dan doing here? She couldn’t believe he’d remained here rather than going to his office. Dan never stayed away from the office this late!

  He must have fallen asleep and lost track of the time, she decided, biting her lower lip as she moved closer to the couch to gaze down at him. He’d looked so tired lately; exhaustion must have finally caught up with him. He would be appalled when he realized what he’d done.

  She hated to wake him. He looked so peaceful, and he certainly needed the rest. But she knew he’d want to be on his way quickly.

  She cleared her throat and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. “Dan?”

  He made a sound that fell somewhere between a grumble and a snore. Oddly enough, she found it rather endearing.

  “Dan?” she said again, leaning closer and shaking him a bit harder.

  He sat up so fast they bumped heads. “What?” he almost yelled, clearly disoriented.

  “Ouch!” she said at the same time, putting a hand to her injured forehead.

  Dan reached up to catch her arms, tugging her down to sit on the couch beside him. “Are you okay?” he asked, searching her face in concern.

  She smiled ruefully. “I’m fine. Another bruise, maybe, but nothing serious.”

  “Sorry.” He touched a hand gently to her forehead, brushing his fingertips over her skin as if feeling for lumps. His eyes were still a bit glazed from sleep. “I guess I was really out of it.”

  “I know.” Very aware of their close proximity, and the feel of his hand against her face, she spoke apologetically. “I hated to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know how late it’s getting.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Nearly noon. I bet you’re hungry.”

  “Actually, I was on my way to the kitchen when I saw you.”

  He stifled a yawn and stretched, his arm brushing hers with the movement. “I’ll fix us something. What are you in the mood for?”

  Still tingling from that accidental contact, she blinked in bemusement. “Don’t you need to get to your office?”

  “Everyone knows how to reach me if they need me. I told them I’d be busy today, but I’ve been checking in regularly. By the way, I called the newspaper office and let them know what happened to you this morning. Cameron said for you to take as much time as you need, to recover.”

  It was too much information to process all at once. “You’re taking the day off to take care of me? You called the newspaper a
bout me?”

  “Didn’t I just say that? So what do you want to eat?”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so touched by anything. Dan never took days off. Doing so now for her, during such a critical time in his job—that had to mean something. Didn’t it?

  She devoutly hoped he wasn’t doing these things for her only out of pity or a misplaced sense of loyalty to her brother. She wanted to believe there was more to it than that.

  Which only proved, of course, that she’d made no headway at all in getting control of her feelings for him.

  “Stay put,” he ordered her, rising to his feet—which, she noted dazedly, were clad only in thick white socks. “Since you don’t seem to have a preference, I’ll make whatever I can find.”

  She was already scrambling to her feet. “I’ll help you—”

  “No.” Very gently he pushed her back to the couch. “You sit. I’ll cook.”

  “I’m really not hurt all that badly,” she reminded him. “It’s only a few bruises.”

  “Stay,” he repeated, as if she were a trained poodle.

  She sighed. “I’m not an invalid, Dan.”

  “I know. But even you have to admit you were shaken up pretty badly.”

  “Well—”

  “Do me a favor, Lindsey. Let me take care of you. It’s the least you can do after giving me such a scare.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “Letting you cook for me is a way for me to apologize for scaring you?”

  His hands still resting on her shoulders, he chuckled. “I’m sticking with any argument that works with you.”

  Because having him leaning so close to her was totally destroying her self-possession, she decided it would be wise to concede. “I’m out of bread,” she said weakly.