Colorado 01 The Gamble (11 page)

Read Colorado 01 The Gamble Online

Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Romance, #Mystery, #contemporary romance, #murder, #murder mystery

BOOK: Colorado 01 The Gamble
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Dawn was just beginning to light the A-Frame
when I fell into another doze that was more than a doze.

It was me falling fast asleep.

* * * * *

I woke, the sunlight bright against my
eyelids and for a scant second I was confused.

Somewhere along the line I hadn’t only
fallen asleep, Max and I had both moved, back to our original
position of him on his back, me partly sprawled on him.

I felt myself being moved and I kept my eyes
closed at the feeling of it. With an exquisite gentleness the likes
I’d never experienced before, he slid out from under me. Then he
moved me so my head was on the pillow. I felt the covers pulled up
over my shoulder and I listened to Max moving away.

For a moment I just allowed the fact to
wash over me that big, solid, bossy, ungentlemanly Max could move
me that way, touch me that way, not only that he could but that he
would and he
did
.

Then I listened to the noises in the
bathroom, taps turning on and off. He came out and a drawer opened
then closed. Then I felt his presence leave the loft.

Then reality intruded.

Drat it all! I was
such
an idiot.

I heard soft noises from downstairs, the
kitchen sink going on then off then I threw back the covers and ran
to the bathroom.

I used the facilities, brushed my teeth,
flossed, washed my face, my mind blank except for the fact I was an
idiot. I should have taken my opportunity at escape. Max was
apparently a heavy sleeper. I could have gotten away.

I gathered all my stuff in the bathroom and
went out to the loft, going straight to my suitcase. I dumped the
stuff in willy-nilly, frantic, sorting through my clothes to pull
together an Escape Max Outfit.

I was so focused on this, I didn’t hear him
hit the loft and when his arm snaked around my waist, I jumped.

“Mornin’ Duchess,” he said into my hair when
my back hit his front.

I went stiff and started, “Max –”

“Coffee,” he interrupted me.

“Max –” I began again, pulling at his arm
and he let me go.

I took a step to the side, turning to him,
opening my mouth to tell him exactly what was on my mind (though I
didn’t know what that would be since nothing, at that moment, was
on my mind) but he caught my hand. Then when I pulled back and took
a step away, to my shock he twirled me, his arm lifting mine over
my head like we were on a dance floor. He stopped me with my back
to him and curled his arm around my belly, my back to his chest and
he turned me toward the stairs.

“Coffee,” he repeated, forcing me with his
body to walk forward while I was still held in his arm.

He was stronger than me and way bigger so
instead of pulling away I focused on a fight maybe I could win.

“You slept with me,” I accused.

“Yep,” he replied casually.

Yes, he replied
casually
. I’d known him, essentially,
a day!

“You crawled in bed with me when I was
asleep.”

“Yep,” he said again and we hit the stairs,
he let me go but put his hands firm to my waist and propelled me
down.

“Max!” I snapped.

“Coffee,” he said yet again.

His hand was now between my shoulder blades
and he wasn’t stopping. I was forced to descend the staircase with
him behind me or be shoved down them by Max.

Seriously, he was so annoying!

“I’d like to put on some clothes,” I
snapped.

“You’ve got on some clothes.”


I have on a
nightgown.

“That’s clothes.”


It’s a
nightgown,
” I said, hitting the foot of the stairs and
whirling on him.

He grabbed my hand and headed toward the
kitchen. I pulled back but he was stronger than me and he was
apparently on a coffee mission.

He yanked me into the kitchen close to the
coffeepot which was filling, turned and tugged at my arm so I was
close. His hand dropped mine but his arm went around my waist,
pulling my lower body into close proximity with his.

I looked up at him, opened my mouth ready to
let him have it but he got there first.

“Oatmeal with one sugar or satisfy your
hankerin’ for some toast with grape jelly?”

I pulled in so much breath I felt my chest
expand with it, filling me up, warm and sweet.

Men didn’t remember things like you saying
you missed grape jelly. Not if you just muttered it in passing.
Charlie would remember that but he wasn’t just any man. He was
Charlie. There’d never been anyone like him.

Niles didn’t remember things like that. In
fact, the incident that drove me to deciding to take this Colorado
adventure timeout was when I had trouble sleeping one night,
dragged myself exhausted to his kitchen the next morning and Niles,
in an unusual mood, offered to pour me a cup of coffee. When I’d
gratefully accepted, Niles asked me how I took it.

Since I’d known Niles for two years, had
woken up in his house so often there was no way to count, been to
breakfast with him, dinner, to his parents house for lunch and
dinner and he didn’t know how I took my coffee, didn’t pay even
that amount of attention to me, it hit me I needed to think about
our situation and I needed to do it fast.

“Duchess?” Max called and I blinked at him,
fighting back that warmth in my chest.

“Toast and jelly,” I whispered.

“Gotcha,” he said, letting me go but his
hand came up, his fingers gliding along my jaw in a touch that was
there then gone physically. But the feeling of it remained, it
tingled and it tingled in a nice way.

He turned to the counter and slid the
toaster from the wall along the counter. Then he opened a cupboard
and took down the bread.

“Thought I’d show you the bluff this
morning,” he said and I stood there, watching him put slices of
bread in the toaster, my mind blank.

Well, my mind was blank except for the fact
that he was wearing flannel pajama bottoms, drawstring, a checked
pattern in navy blue and charcoal gray on a lighter gray
background. With these he was also wearing a gray t-shirt, it fit
snug across his chest and tight around his bulging biceps.

I didn’t think much of men’s pajamas, ever.
Only Max could make pajamas, even every day, normal pajama bottoms
and a t-shirt like the ones he was wearing, look so darned
good.

Then my mind moved to my nightgown, which
was another purchase I’d made for the trip. Cotton, pale pink,
spaghetti straps, the bodice fit close to my breasts, the back cut
low, under my shoulder blades. The rest was empire waist, an A-line
down to my upper thighs. The hem and the bodice were edged in a
teeny-tiny line of cream lace.

Then my mind moved to wondering what Max
thought of my nightgown and me in it.

Then I noticed he wasn’t paying a lot of
attention, he was getting out the butter and jelly. This was
disappointing since it came to me that I
wanted
him to like me in my new, cute, little, Colorado
adventure nightgown. I didn’t normally wear nightgowns. I usually
wore mostly what he was wearing except in girl style.

His eyes came to me and he called, “Hello?
Nina?”

My body jolted and I asked, “What?”

He grinned and asked back, “Baby, you
awake?”

“Um…”

“Sit down.”

“But –”

“Sit down.”

“All right,” I muttered, thinking that was a
good idea and walked out of the kitchen and to a stool. Then I sat
down.

The toast came up, Max pulled out a plate,
put the toast on it, buttered it (with far more butter than
necessary) and then put jelly on it (with a considerable amount of
jelly, but I wasn’t complaining).

Then he turned and slid the plate in front
of me and went back to the coffeepot.

“Nina, the bluff?” he asked.

“Sorry?”

He poured coffee in a mug, spooned in a
sugar and went to the fridge, pulling out the milk then he said, “I
want you to come with me to the bluff.”

“What bluff?” I asked, my eyes on what he
was doing, the toast close to my mouth, I took a bite.

Grape jelly. Ambrosia.

“Edge of my land, I want you to see it,” he
said, splashing milk into the mug, doing a swirl with a spoon and
then turning to me and setting it in front of me.

I lost my concentration on the conversation
and stared at the coffee Max set on the counter.

Once. He’d poured me coffee once. And he
knew how I took it.

Niles had done it a hundred times and he
never bothered to remember.

“Jesus, Nina,” Max said and it sounded like
he was laughing through the words.

I shook my head and looked at him to see he
was, indeed, laughing through the words.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“You. You’re a zombie in the morning.”

I felt my brows draw together and I said,
“No, I’m not.”

His response: “Babe,” and then a grin.

He turned to the coffeepot, poured another
mug, black, no sugar, sipped it and slid some more bread in the
toaster.

“Dress warm,” he said, turning back to me
and leaning his hips against the counter, “and bring your camera if
you got one.”

“My camera?”

“Views at the bluff, you’ll want a
photo.”

I decided I needed caffeine so I dropped my
toast, grabbed my mug, took a sip then another one because Max made
good coffee.

Was I going to some bluff with him?

No, I was
not
.

Yet, I kind of wanted to. I’d never been
to a bluff in the Colorado Mountains. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been
to any bluff anywhere. Actually, I wasn’t entirely certain what a
bluff
was
.

And I was on an adventure, wasn’t I? I was
living my life, clearing the cobwebs, experiencing new things. I
could move to the hotel in town or drive to Denver
after
Max showed me his
bluff.

“All right,” I said on another sip of my
coffee and then I took another bite of the delicious buttery,
jellied toast.

Okay, so I was being an idiot. I could be an
idiot for a few hours to see a bluff. Then after allowing myself to
be an idiot, I could go back to being a smart, sane, rational
person again. But being smart, sane and rational was boring, I’d
been doing that for awhile and I could use a break, so I was going
to give myself one.

“That was easy,” Max commented and I took
another bite of toast and looked at him.

I chewed, swallowed and asked, “What?”

He shook his head slowly and muttered,
“Nothin’ darlin’.”

Then he took a sip from his coffee and his
eyes went over my shoulder, his brows drew together and I watched
his body get tight.

It was a fascinating, even thrilling, but
somewhat scary sight to see. He had a powerful body and seeing it
come alert like that in an instant was remarkable.

“What the fuck?” he murmured and I dragged
my eyes away from his body, turned on my stool, toast in hand, and
looked out the window.

Parking by the Cherokee was an army green
SUV, police lights at the top, big star insignia on the door.

At the sight, I, too, felt my body get
tight.

“Is that the police?” I asked, even though
it obviously was.

“Yeah,” Max said softly but I could hear he
was on the move.

A man got out of the SUV, jeans, heavy
flannel shirt, padded vest, cowboy boots, badge and gun on his
belt. He was average height, salt in his pepper hair, a bit of a
beer belly growing over his mammoth belt buckle but he still looked
fit. He gazed up at the A-Frame and then headed up the stairs.

Max had the door open before he got there. I
stayed frozen on my stool watching this play out.

“Mick,” Max greeted the man.

“Max,” the man greeted back, walking in
through the open door.

“What’s up?” Max asked.

Mick’s eyes came to me and it was then too
slowly I realized I was in a little, pale pink nightgown.

He looked back to Max apparently unsurprised
Max had a woman in a little, pale pink nightgown sitting at a stool
by his kitchen and he announced, “Something’s happened.”

Max shut the door on the cold air,
straightened, planted his feet and crossed his arms on his chest
before he asked, “What?”

Mick cleared his throat and his eyes came to
me.

“That’s Nina Sheridan,” Max told him.

“Hey there, Miss Sheridan,” Mick said to
me.

I decided not to correct him about the
“Miss” and instead invited, “Please call me Nina.”

“All right, Nina,” Mick returned with an
uncomfortable smile which made me, already ill at ease because of a
morning visit from a police officer, more so.

“What’s up?” Max asked again and I wondered
if I should run upstairs, put on a cardigan, my robe, maybe some
jeans, a snowsuit (though, I didn’t have one of those).

Mick walked further into the house in my
direction but turned back to Max.

“Gotta ask you a few questions,” he said and
I decided not to go get dressed. The way he said that, I decided to
stay right where I was.

“What questions?” Max asked, also walking in
but he came direct to me, positioning himself behind my stool so
close I could feel his warmth at my back.

Mick took this as an invitation to come in
further and he did, stopping about three feet away.

“Gotta know where you were last night around
two, three in the mornin’,” Mick said.

I felt myself still and I stared at Mick
noting he was uncomfortable and not hiding it.

“What’s this about?” Max asked and I could
tell by his voice he was not happy and also not hiding it.

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