Picking her battles, Melissa relented, trudging through the frost-limned grass to an enormous blue pickup truck sprawled across the mouth of her driveway. “Feel free to pee on his upholstery,” she muttered to Jasper as she put him on the small bench seat behind the front bucket seats.
He sniffed the length of the bench as she pulled herself wearily into the passenger seat and shut the door behind her. The truck’s cab was warm compared to the bitter cold outside. It smelled better than she expected, too—spicy, a little masculine.
Like Aaron Cooper himself, a traitorous teenage voice whispered in her head.
Melissa tucked her legs up and rested her chin on her knees, gazing through the windshield at Aaron as he lifted her suitcases as if they were lunchboxes. He may have left his football career behind, but he still looked good, she noted grudgingly. He’d been leaner in high school, but the extra flesh seemed to be all muscle.
Too bad he was such a bully.
Aaron heaved the suitcases into the truck bed, where they landed with gentle thuds. Circling to the driver’s side, he opened the cab door and looked over the seat at her.
For a second, the suspicion in his eyes melted, revealing sympathy. He shrugged off his thick brown leather jacket and handed it across the seat to her. “Here, put that on. And buckle up.”
He belted himself in while Melissa pulled the enormous jacket around her. It swallowed her whole, enveloping her in the same heady scent that filled the cab of his truck. She held her breath, holding that scent inside her for a moment. She felt sixteen all over again, tongue-tied and hopelessly infatuated with the star football player who barely even knew she was alive.
But a quick glance at Aaron Cooper’s stony profile dragged her back to the present reality. She was temporarily homeless, frozen half-solid and apparently the prime suspect in a case of arson. And Aaron was a big, pushy guy who probably wouldn’t think twice about twisting arms to get his way.
Lovely. Just lovely.
“Do you honestly think I set my own house on fire with my dog and myself inside?” she asked.
Aaron shot her a sidelong look. “I think you’re keeping something from me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He shrugged. “Lies make me antsy.”
“I haven’t lied.”
He looked her way again. “Why did you want us to drop the case, Ms. Draper?”
The cool formality of his tone stung her, even though she knew it shouldn’t. They were strangers, really. Passing in the halls and a few classes together didn’t constitute a friendship.
Not that she wanted Aaron Cooper as a friend anyway. She’d known entirely too many men in her life who didn’t know how to keep their hands—or their fists—to themselves.
She turned her face away from him and gazed out the passenger window, remaining quiet.
“I rest my case,” Aaron said.
She bit back a protest. Anything she said in her defense would only pique Aaron’s interest more. He was probably going to find out about her pro bono work sooner or later, but the longer it took, the more time she’d have to warn the women she worked with that scrutiny might be headed their way.
And maybe, if she could figure out which of the many violent men who’d threatened her over the years was the one who’d set fire to her house, she could tip off Aaron and put an end to the whole mess before he had to bother her clients.
The women she worked with had lived in sheer hell for years before making their escape. The last thing they needed was a nosy deputy dragging them back through hell all over again.
BY MIDMORNING, the day had warmed to the low fifties with bright sunlight to ward off the chill. The living room of the guest cottage was cozy and warm, morning sunlight through the front windows casting a cheerful glow across the homey furniture. Aaron found himself fighting the urge to stretch out on the sofa and take a nap.
Melissa and her puppy had disappeared into one of the bedrooms soon after they’d arrived, staying awake only long enough for a quick shower and the breakfast of eggs and toast Aaron’s mother had had waiting for them when they walked through the door to the lakeside cabin.
His mother, Beth, had also put fresh sheets on the beds and turned up the central heating to a cozy warmth. After Melissa had gone to bed, Beth had stayed a few minutes to talk to him, managing to glean the basics of Melissa’s plight from him with a few subtle, well-aimed questions.
“You don’t seriously think that poor girl tried to burn her own house down, do you?” His mother’s tone of voice had made him feel as if he were a complete creep to entertain the notion for a second.
He’d been relieved to admit he didn’t think Melissa had set the fire. But he hadn’t told his mother his strong feeling that Melissa knew who had.
The expression on her face when Perry had told them the fire had been set deliberately hadn’t been shock. It had been fear, liberally tinged with a strange sort of fatalism, as if she’d been waiting for just such a thing to happen.
So as he finished up calls to the office to brief his commander and get a few investigative balls rolling, he found himself wondering why Melissa Draper had been so unsurprised to hear someone had tried to kill her.
The soft click of the bedroom door down the hallway gave him time to school his features into a cool mask of professionalism. He waited until he heard her pad quietly into the living room before he turned to look at her.
His breath hitched halfway into his lungs. He forced himself to breathe slowly and deliberately despite the sudden, unexpected pounding of his heart. She wasn’t what he’d call pretty, exactly—she never had been. Her forehead was too wide, her blue eyes too large, her lips too bow-shaped, her skin too milky pale. Her dark hair had always been straight and shapeless, though instead of letting the straight locks hang down over her shoulders she now wore it pulled back into a sleek ponytail.
She wore a pair of faded jeans just tight enough to reveal a nice pair of legs and a loose-fitting gray T-shirt that concealed too much for him to get a good idea what the rest of her body looked like. Unfortunately, his mind seemed determined to fill in the blanks all by itself.
“I thought you’d be gone.” Her sleep-raspy voice hit like a jolt of caffeine. He instantly focused on her, from the faint scent of shampoo in her still-damp hair to the way her lips parted to reveal a flash of perfect white teeth.
He was reacting to her like some sex-starved loser who hadn’t gotten lucky in a decade. And that definitely wasn’t him. What the hell was wrong with him?
He liked tough, driven women who embraced his no-promises, no-regrets idea of relationships with as much enthusiasm as he always had. He sure as hell didn’t play with the hearts of women who looked as breakable as Melissa Draper.
She’d said something, he reminded himself, trying to gather his scattered thoughts to remember her remark. “I’m working here,” he answered, appalled when he stumbled over his words. Clearing his throat, he dragged his attention back to the notes he’d been making for the report he’d type up when he got back to the office. “I thought I’d wait until you woke up.”
“I’m up,” she said.
“Trying to get rid of me?”
She gave him an odd look and moved to sit stiffly on the chair across from the sofa where he sat. She looked nervous, he noted, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with whatever secrets she was keeping. “Is my car here yet?”
He frowned. “You’re not thinking of leaving.”
She met his frown with a scowl of her own. “Am I under