Silver Bracelets: A Loveswept Contemporary Classic Romance (2 page)

BOOK: Silver Bracelets: A Loveswept Contemporary Classic Romance
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Don’t allow?
That kind of thinking was so
foreign that Sarah couldn’t even voice a reply. Finally pure curiosity won out and she asked, “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“Nope.”

“What about your parents?”

“Don’t have any.”

“Everybody has parents, Mr. Canyon.”

“Not me.”

He meant it. Sarah couldn’t imagine growing up without a family, but this man had. “But still, you have to accept the fact that your … your ward has run away with your friend.”

“No, I don’t have to accept that. The note said ‘in the morning.’ There’s still a chance I can stop them.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and began to move the bed.

“What you are doing?” She watched in astonishment as Asa Canyon dragged the entire brass bed across the carpet to the window.

“I intend to get out of this apartment,” he said, kicking out the lower pane of glass in the window. “Either with your help or by rousing the entire neighborhood. It’s your choice.”

“Now just a minute, Mr. Canyon. You’re acting like some crazy man!”

Sarah walked around and stood between him and the window. Enough was enough. He was already inviting trouble by getting in front of the window practically nude, but breaking windows could get him arrested.
“You don’t want somebody to call the police and—”

“Sarah Wilson!” He silenced her protest in midsentence. “I am the police.”

“Uh-oh! The police?” Then it came to her, where she’d heard that name before. He was Deputy Sheriff Asa Canyon, the new Dirty Harry of the Cobb County Sheriff’s Department, the man who, on his first week on the job, single-handedly captured the trio of robbers who’d held up the Burger Barn and escaped in the restaurant manager’s car. The story and his picture had been all over the papers two weeks ago.

“Deputy Sheriff Asa Canyon,” he said with a threat in his voice. “And I order you to remove the cuffs.”

“Oh, goodness. Yes, sir. Let me get my keys,” Sarah answered, trying to think of a way to calm his fury. “They’re in the toolbox somewhere.”

“You don’t have a single master key?”

“Not exactly. There are several different handcuff locks. It won’t take long. I just have to find the right one.”

“Wonderful,” Asa said under his breath. “Another nice touch, Mike. All the locksmiths in the county and you pick a woman. Cute!”

Sarah froze. “I could just walk away and leave you trussed up like a Christmas turkey.”

Considering the situation, this woman was probably his quickest way out. “Sorry,” he said, trying to sound contrite. “Just hurry, will you?”

Sarah picked up her toolbox and slid up close to Deputy Canyon. She couldn’t avoid noticing the skimpy briefs he was wearing. Impishly she decided that she’d pegged him wrong. He ought to replace the baseball pitcher lounging seductively on the billboard near her locksmith shop. The pitcher wore a pair of burgundy briefs just like the deputy’s, only not nearly so well, Sarah decided with an appreciative eye.

Yes, the gossip about the new deputy had been right. She’d encountered Dirty Harry in the flesh. This was a man who skated on the fine edge of fury and now she, too, was standing on very thin ice.

Cutting her eyes away from his body she leaned closer and began to study the lock. “This is going to be a bit tricky,” she said. “I can’t hold the light and my tools at the same time. Without a table to set it on, there’s no way to anchor it so that it shines on your wrists.”

“Open the window.”

“Sorry, Deputy, you can’t jump with that bed attached to your arm, glass or no glass. Besides, suicide is no answer.”

“We’re on the ground floor,” he growled. “Put the flashlight on the windowsill and close the window on it. That ought to hold it in place.”

“Deputy Canyon, are you sure you know what you’re suggesting? You’re wearing nothing but underwear and you’ll be in the spotlight. If anybody is watching, they might
possibly get the idea that we’re involved in something … kinky.”

“Kinky?” he roared, then took a deep breath. “Please, Ms. Wilson”—his voice softened just enough to let Sarah catch a glimpse of his worry—“I have to get to Jeanie and make sure that she knows what she’s doing. Sixteen years ago I promised her father I’d look after her, and I never go back on my word.”

“Why does she need looking after? Doesn’t she have a mother?”

“No!” he barked. “I’m the only family she has. Jeanie’s different. She tends to take wild chances, without considering the consequences. She always has. That’s why she needs me.”

He was serious. He wasn’t angry with this Jeanie. In fact, Sarah was beginning to understand that his attitude was more that of a father or an older brother.

Sarah put the flashlight on the sill, then twisted his hands to get a better angle. Leaning across his body, she tried to concentrate on what she was doing rather than on his very masculine shape. He tried to turn away as if he didn’t want to be touched.

“Please, keep your hands turned like this, Deputy Canyon,” she said. “I’m glad your wrists are slim. It makes this less painful for you and easier for me.”

“I’m glad you approve. There are those who think I’m mean and lean.”

She didn’t think the description referred to
his physical appearance. “And are you mean?”

“No, I’m simply careful, a quality that my ex-friend Mike apparently is learning to emulate.”

Asa was aware that he was thought to be a man of purpose, one who never deviated from his course. There were some who called him a loner. He saw himself as an individualist. There were some who said he had tunnel vision. He called it commitment.

He would have stopped Jeanie from eloping. He still could. But right now he was having trouble focusing on the
how.
The lady locksmith hovering over him was proving to be very distracting, and distractions were not a part of Asa Canyon’s life.

Asa’s rescuer was wearing faded jeans, a T-shirt that said “Locksmith’s Have the Key,” and a baseball cap on her head. She smelled fresh and natural, like newly mown grass, or a watermelon right after it was cut. She was even humming as if she were completely at ease. She didn’t seem to have any trouble concentrating. She certainly was paying no attention to his nearly nude state.

For that he was grateful. The rough texture of her jeans grazing against his thigh was suddenly forcing his body into paying enough attention for both of them. He took a deep breath. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“The first key doesn’t fit.” Sarah tried another. “Are these bracelets yours?”

“Yes.”

“How’d your friend get them?”

“They were attached to my belt, on my pants. There was a gun there, too. I’m glad he didn’t decide to take stronger measures. He could have done some real damage to my person.”

Sarah silently agreed that was a good thing. His person was perfect just as it was. Shocked at her thought, she ducked her head so that Asa couldn’t see the blush that heated her cheeks.

The second key didn’t fit either. She slid it around the ring and pulled up a third one. This time, by working it back and forth, she was able to release the lock. The handcuff attached to the bed slid open so suddenly that she was caught off balance. As she tried to keep from falling across the deputy, another instrument attached to her key ring, a wickedly sharp pointed pick, jabbed him in the wrist.

Asa’s head snapped up. “Damn!” he exclaimed, jerking his hand forward. His sudden movement wrenched the key and broke it off in the lock, at the same time sending the key ring sailing through the broken window.

“Ouch! If I’d wanted to lose a hand I’d have gnawed my way free.”

“Sorry. Now you’ve done it! My keys are outside somewhere in the dark. I’ll have to see if I can find them to open the other cuff.”

“Never mind, Sarah Wilson,” he said, massaging his wrist. “I’m free of the bed. That’s all I have time for.”

“But what about the other bracelet?”

“I have a spare key at the station. I’ll get it later. Let me get dressed and I’ll pay you for your trouble.”

“What do you plan to wear?”

“Damn!” He glanced over at Sarah, his gaze traveling from her T-shirt, down her long legs to her scruffy sneakers.

“No way. You’d never fit.”

“Well, I’ll just have to make a run for it like this.”

Sarah shook her head. Even with today’s loose dress codes, she guessed that
this
man would be noticed.

When she turned to free her flashlight, she saw a couple standing beside a police car on the street. They were talking to the officer and pointing at the window where Sarah was standing.

“Deputy Canyon, I don’t think that it’s a good idea for you to go outside just now. Not unless you want to do some tall explaining. There’s a Smyrna cop out there. Somebody must have heard you break the glass.”

Asa glanced out at the officer and back at Sarah. “I don’t suppose you have a pair of pants in that toolbox, do you?”

“Nope, sorry. But wait a minute. I may have a solution.” She picked up her toolbox, turned around, and disappeared into the darkness.

Asa imagined the worst. She was breaking into another apartment. She was stealing an overcoat and he’d be arrested as a flasher. She was calling for a pizza and they’d overpower
the delivery boy. She was leaving, deserting him in his hour of need.

He began to pace back and forth. A broken window, a woman with a tool chest filled with what could be considered burglary tools, and a half-nude man. Explainable maybe, but he didn’t have time for any more delays. Nosy neighbors! That’s why he would never live in a place like this.

Jeanie had picked out this apartment for herself, before she’d had the wild idea that they would get married. Then, before she’d even turned on the utilities, the assignment in Spain had come along. The only furniture that got moved in was the brass bed.

Asa understood Jeanie’s need to be surrounded by people, to belong. He thought it had something to do with her losing her parents so early. But he was alone, too; he didn’t even know who his parents were. And he’d never fallen in and out of love like a neon sign blinking on and off.

For Asa a job that involved constant travel was a calculated choice. If he didn’t stay in one place very long, he couldn’t get close to anyone. If he didn’t allow himself to get close, he wouldn’t be hurt. But for Jeanie, and Mike too, the world was their playground. They ran toward tomorrow and what it might bring.

Asa looked at his watch, the green numbers blinking at him in the darkness. Where was Sarah Wilson?
She
seemed dependable, firmly rooted in old-fashioned optimism and responsibility. Surely she hadn’t abandoned him.

About the time he decided to take a chance on flashing the neighborhood she came back, holding out red coveralls with the name “Jim” embroidered on the pocket.

“Try these. They were Pop’s, but I think they’ll fit.”

They did. Asa pulled them on and jammed his feet into his boots. He moved over to the window and glanced outside. The police officer was heading toward them. Asa didn’t have time for an interrogation. There was only one quick way out. Kinky was acceptable; burglary wasn’t.

“Don’t scream, Sarah. Just consider this as being in the line of duty.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms, capturing her lips with sureness.

For a moment she struggled.

“Cooperate, woman, please!”

Whether it was the desperate plea in his voice or her own breathless reaction to his lips, she relaxed and gave in to the kiss being delivered by a master of the art.

Her heart felt the jolt first. Then her pulse kicked in and her breathing raced. Jeanie was definitely an idiot for running away with a practical joker when she could have had this man. Sarah didn’t know what to say about herself. Maybe she was a idiot, too, for there was no question that she was kissing Asa back.

By the time Asa pulled away, Sarah was glad that he was still holding her; otherwise she would have melted into a puddle at his feet.
He gave a jaunty wave to the officer, then snapped off Sarah’s flashlight.

For a moment he gazed at Sarah in silence. He could hear the sound of her breathing.

“Thanks for not screaming. Let’s get out of here before the people watching decide to join our party. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, the kiss is free. Since it was in the line of duty.”

“I meant for the locksmith’s call.”

Still half stunned by the kiss, Sarah freed her flashlight and followed the deputy as he moved out the door and across the lawn to the parking area.

“A call after midnight is forty dollars,” she said. “But unless you’re into bartering, I don’t know how you expect to pay me. I’ll send you a bill.”

He swore again. “I’ll pay you tomorrow. But forty dollars isn’t enough. You came out after midnight, to a strange apartment, to free a man in handcuffs and you’re only going to charge forty dollars?”

“That’s the price my dad set and that’s what you owe me.”

“Then why didn’t your dad make the call? I might have been a criminal. You know you could have been in big trouble.” He frowned as he allowed himself to notice how attractive she was.

He’d vaguely realized she was tall enough that he hadn’t had to lean down to kiss her and that her breasts had felt generous pressing against his chest. He’d seen honesty reflected
in her eyes and felt the warmth of skin that, in the shadows, was the color of honey. She’d been more of an imagined impression based on touch and smell, until that impression crystallized into a woman whose lips softened and responded to his kiss.

Now in the lighted parking area he could see that her short hair, peeking out from beneath her cap, was light brown rather than blond. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and her face had the warm, healthy color of a woman who spent time outdoors. She was looking at him with an expression that he couldn’t identify.

“My father couldn’t come,” she said quietly. “My father is dead. And you aren’t a criminal. You’re just worried about someone you care for.”

He felt a twinge of guilt for his choice of words and started to say he was sorry, but she cut him off.

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