At least she could assist Chelsea in finding the sleaze who’d posted those pictures of her. Erin was glad she’d asked for her help. She’d been just about ready to throw in the towel and scurry back to her studio apartment in Seattle with her tail between her legs, as discouraging as that notion was.
On habit, she pulled out her cell and studied her phone messages, checking to see if Chelsea had texted. Then she heard the definite sound of footsteps on the floor, getting louder and heading her way.
She dumped her phone back into her purse and turned to face Chelsea.
Only, it wasn’t Chelsea, it was a big tall handsome beast of a man, wearing a black Stetson, jeans and a tails-out white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, hugging his biceps to distraction.
She blinked.
“Erin?”
The low timbre of his voice did crazy things to her, reminding her how he’d whispered her name over and over while making love to her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
His eyes were so blue, so amazingly bright right now, she wanted to throw her arms around him, but she also wanted to thrash his hide for not pursuing her, even a little.
“I’m, uh, meeting a friend,” she said. “What are you...?” Then it dawned on her like some insanely wicked twist that maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Oh no. “You’re not Chelsea’s brother, are you?” she squeaked.
“You know my sister?”
Erin’s eyes blinked shut. She couldn’t believe this. She leaned her back against the door so it could hold her upright, rather than having her limbs crumble to the floor. She managed a nod.
“How?”
She opened her eyes. “We have mutual friends.”
Dan moved in on her, his presence surrounding her like a fortress, his lime scent reaching her nostrils. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes blazed with some sort of relief. He put his hand up to touch her face, but then let his arm drop down before making contact. His gaze stayed on her and she didn’t know which emotion to cling to, which emotion to believe: the one that wanted to invite Dan to touch her, because oh how she craved it; or the one that poured acid into her stomach, warning her not to go near him again.
“I went back to the Dark Horse the next night looking for you,” he confessed.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I say very little, but what I say means something.” He spoke with enough authority to sway any nonbelievers.
She stared into his eyes, captivated by the honesty she saw in them. “Why?”
“Why?” He smiled then, an apologetic smile that touched something deep in her heart. “I wanted to see you again.”
“Because?”
She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. Even if she had to pry the words out of his mouth, she wanted to know what he was feeling.
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