Read Online Texas Hold 'Em by Kay David - Free Book Online

and twice as many grandchildren.
    “I’m fine, Lydia.” She gently steered the older woman back to the front of the station. “You take care of the phones, and I’ll take care of everything else, okay?”
    Rose talked to King about what to do next until Lydia finally threatened to call Silas. It was easier to go home to clean up and return, rather than fight the concerned woman. Her mind spinning, her body aching, she reached her house to find Santos waiting once again, this time on her back porch. Her mouth went dry as she stared at him.
    He’d had a shower and changed clothes, his wet hair leaving streaks that looked like tears dampening his fresh t-shirt. His jawline was still dark with stubble, but he looked good and he smelled even better. He took one look at her tattered uniform and swelling wrists, and motioned for her to go inside. He followed her.
    “Go get a couple of aspirins, then take a hot bath.” He guided her toward the hall. “You need to soak. We’ll put ice on your ankles as soon as you get out.”
    To her surprise, her head began to spin, a mental and physical shakiness taking control of her body that almost made her doubt she’d get down the hall. Santos slid his hands over her forearms and steadied her, his touch arousing more than just memories.
    “Do you need some help?”
    She shook her head, took a breath, and headed for the back of the house. The kind of help she wanted from him right now would only make her dizzier.
    She was still sitting in the tub when he knocked on the door and opened it slowly.
    Their gaze met for a single moment. He let his stare slide down her body, then he brought it back up so slowly she felt as if he’d used his hands instead of his eyes. She didn’t bother to cover herself up, and she didn’t move, either. She was paralyzed. Without a word, he put a steaming cup of hot coffee on the edge of the tub, then stepped back, the door clicking behind him. The bath water rippled as she slipped beneath the surface and let the warmth envelop her. Her disappointment that he’d left her alone almost rivaled her knowledge that what he’d done was for the best.
    She deliberately forced herself to think about what had just happened instead. She’d been in and out of tough situations before. Had even been forced to wound a fleeing suspect once, but she’d never been shot at like this.
    She emerged wearing a faded track suit, the fabric soft against her aching body and thick enough to protect her from his gaze and his touch should either fall upon her again. He was standing by the wall of photos of her and her mother. Turning at her footsteps, he took in the scrape on her right temple, and she brushed her fingers over it self-consciously.
    Determined to keep the interaction neutral, she lifted the mug. “Thanks for the coffee.”
    “No problem.” He tilted his head to indicate his surroundings. “The place feels like you.”
    “I’m renting it from Silas.”
    He faced the wall of photos again. “I like these, too. You were a cute kid, you know.”
    “I dragged them out when I moved here.”
    “Why didn’t you hang them in our place?”
    The words— our place —made her blink. “I didn’t think you’d want to see a picture of my mother every day.”
    “I’ve never had a problem with your mother. It’s what she does and who she hangs out with that bothers me. Her friends aren’t the kind of people I like.”
    Rose pivoted sharply and went into the kitchen.
    When he spoke again, his voice was deep and close. Too close. She swayed as she turned. Grabbing the edge of the counter, she hoped he didn’t notice.
    “This thing has gotten bigger, Rose. You can’t ignore what happened tonight.”
    “If those men had wanted me dead, they could have shot me.”
    “Just like that kid could have shot you?”
    “As a matter of fact, yes.”
    “If that’s what you think, then what’s your theory on why you aren’t in the morgue instead of standing here talking