Read Online First Class Male by Jillian Hart - Free Book Online Page B

sight of him. “Surely you have better things to do than escort me around town.”
    “No, I surely don’t.” Kindness softened his hard planes and angles as he strode toward her, all mighty man and easy-going confidence. He smelled good too, like sunshine and leather. He fell in stride beside her. “Thought I’d walk you back to Mariel’s.”
    “Because I don’t know my way? I’m perfectly fine on my own.” She wished her eyes hadn’t strayed upward, because something funny happened to her when she gazed at him. Her palms went damp, her pulse went crazy, her stomach gave a little swoop. “Don’t tell me you have ulterior motives.”
    “Okay, I won’t tell you.” The crook of one corner of his mouth told her that was a joke. He did have ulterior motives, and she was afraid she knew what they were. He stepped down onto the street, hand out, not touching her, but ready to help her if she tripped on her skirts.
    The minute her shoes touched the dusty street, he withdrew his hand, and she couldn’t help but be a little sad at that. Honestly, the last thing she should be wishing for was a man’s touch (Emma would be the first to say
That’s indecent!
with great outrage), but she couldn’t help it. A part of her seemed to long for that hot, solid-male feel of him.
    Of course, what woman wouldn’t feel that way? She slid a sideways gaze at him as he stayed at her side, turning onto the side street, kicking up little clouds of dust with his boots. He had really large feet, she realized, to go along with his manly hands. Everything about him was just perfect. She gave a wistful sigh.
    “I don’t have a single ulterior motive,” he assured her wryly as he withdrew something from his shirt pocket. The six shooters strapped to his muscled thighs glinted dully in the sun as he held out a train ticket. “I’ve been very direct about this. Here’s your way home.”
    “This is too much, Mason.” She took it anyway, studied it as her eyes smarted. Her throat felt thick with emotion. “I’m only accepting this ticket and the clothes because I intend to pay you back.”
    “Hmm. I understand you now.” He knuckled back his hat, nodding slowly like a man coming to a grand epiphany. “You are a stubborn woman. That is the real reason you’re unmarried.”
    “If I didn’t see those laughing glints in your eyes, I’m afraid I would have to kick you in the shins.”
    “That would be a serious offense. Assaulting a U.S. Marshal.”
    “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Feeling as light as air and tingly all over (she was just going to have to ignore the tingles entirely), she bobbed along beside him, walking in his shadow. “Now that you know the truth about me, and yes, I’m stubborn, my sisters will attest to that, what about you? Why haven’t you remarried?”
    “That’s getting personal.” He arched a brow.
    “As we’ve discussed, you’ve seen me naked. That’s pretty personal.” She blushed a little, but it didn’t stop her curiosity. She was leaving in a few hours. This was her only chance to find out, the last time she would be with him. He would go on with his life here, she would return to Holbrook and they’d never meet again. That saddened her immensely, a gulf of loss opening up in her chest. If given half a chance, she really could fall in love with Marshal Mason Greer.
    “Opal was carrying our first child when she was gunned down in a bank robbery,” he said as casually as if he was reporting on the weather, without a hitch in his stride or a hesitation in his voice. Except for the tight cinch of his jaw, the tendons cording in his neck. Pain shadowed his eyes. “We were standing in line together waiting for the teller to finish with another customer. We were talking about baby names, Opal had decided she wanted James for a boy, and I liked it, when the door swung wide, two shots fired into the lobby and a gang of outlaws stormed in. They killed the security guard with a