opened another drawer and brought out a pair of dark blue boxers. “These will be big on you, but maybe they’ll do until we can get your own clothes.”
“Thank you.” She grasped the boxers in her fist then held the clothing to her chest. He led her into the bathroom. She watched as he turned on the shower and let it run until it was warm and steam started to build in the bathroom.
He handed her a thick blue towel and a toothbrush that was still in its package. “Just bought the toothbrush. Use whatever I have that you need.” He kissed her gently before closing the bathroom door and leaving her alone. She was glad for the privacy. She’d had none while she was in jail and it was beyond words how grateful she was to be out. She owed John more than she could ever repay. Now she had to prove herself innocent. She didn’t know how to do that and could only pray that John could.
A shower had never felt so good. As she soaped herself beneath the warm spray, the filth of the last forty-eight hours slid off her body. Even after she washed her hair, she still didn’t quite feel clean enough. It was as if the experience had tainted her in ways she couldn’t begin to express.
She realized she hadn’t been chewing her nails like she normally did. It was as if everything in her life had changed and not for the better. She felt too numb to chew her nails.
After she got out of the shower and turned off the water, she dried off with the blue towel John had handed her before he left. She dressed in the T-shirt and boxers, both loose on her but comfortable. She gratefully brushed her teeth and then combed the tangles out of her wet hair.
When she was finished, she opened the bathroom door. Steam escaped the room as she walked into the bedroom. She looked at the bed that invited her to slide between the sheets like a lover beckoning to her. Without consciously thinking about what she was doing, she headed straight for the bed and crawled into it.
The bed smelled of John, a scent that wrapped itself around her and made her believe for a moment in freedom.
She rested her head on one of the pillows and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 12
John gritted his teeth as he almost slammed the phone receiver into its cradle. He was sitting at his desk in the police station, following up on whatever leads he could generate.
Hollie was innocent. He wanted to beat the shit out of whoever had killed Carl Whitfield and left Hollie to take the blame. It had to be Freddy Victors. The man had been missing, likely had gone into hiding, after murdering Carl.
When John had left this morning, Hollie had still been sleeping. He’d had to get to work, so his mother had come over to stay with Hollie so that she wouldn’t be alone when she woke up. His mother was to alert him if anyone came near the house.
He thought about how exhausted Hollie had looked in her sleep, the dark circles under her eyes, and her pale, bruised features. He’d wanted to stay there and hold her until she woke, to be there for her. But he had to find the real killer and he couldn’t do that without the resources he had at the station.
God, he’d never felt this way about any woman. He’d known he was getting in over his head when he’d asked her to dance at the Highlander. He’d only gotten deeper and deeper from that point on. What happened to staying away from relationships while he was a cop? What happened to waiting until he was ready to walk away from the police force and start his ranching career?
Because women like Hollie only come around once in a lifetime.
John’s gaze moved to his computer monitor and he stared at the mug shot of Hollie. She looked tired, frightened, and as if she was about to cry. His gut clenched as he scrolled through her vitals and the evidence against her. He didn’t think for a minute that she was guilty, but things sure looked bad. He had to prove her innocence before she went to trial. Hell, he needed to do it now. Her life,
“Thank you.” She grasped the boxers in her fist then held the clothing to her chest. He led her into the bathroom. She watched as he turned on the shower and let it run until it was warm and steam started to build in the bathroom.
He handed her a thick blue towel and a toothbrush that was still in its package. “Just bought the toothbrush. Use whatever I have that you need.” He kissed her gently before closing the bathroom door and leaving her alone. She was glad for the privacy. She’d had none while she was in jail and it was beyond words how grateful she was to be out. She owed John more than she could ever repay. Now she had to prove herself innocent. She didn’t know how to do that and could only pray that John could.
A shower had never felt so good. As she soaped herself beneath the warm spray, the filth of the last forty-eight hours slid off her body. Even after she washed her hair, she still didn’t quite feel clean enough. It was as if the experience had tainted her in ways she couldn’t begin to express.
She realized she hadn’t been chewing her nails like she normally did. It was as if everything in her life had changed and not for the better. She felt too numb to chew her nails.
After she got out of the shower and turned off the water, she dried off with the blue towel John had handed her before he left. She dressed in the T-shirt and boxers, both loose on her but comfortable. She gratefully brushed her teeth and then combed the tangles out of her wet hair.
When she was finished, she opened the bathroom door. Steam escaped the room as she walked into the bedroom. She looked at the bed that invited her to slide between the sheets like a lover beckoning to her. Without consciously thinking about what she was doing, she headed straight for the bed and crawled into it.
The bed smelled of John, a scent that wrapped itself around her and made her believe for a moment in freedom.
She rested her head on one of the pillows and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 12
John gritted his teeth as he almost slammed the phone receiver into its cradle. He was sitting at his desk in the police station, following up on whatever leads he could generate.
Hollie was innocent. He wanted to beat the shit out of whoever had killed Carl Whitfield and left Hollie to take the blame. It had to be Freddy Victors. The man had been missing, likely had gone into hiding, after murdering Carl.
When John had left this morning, Hollie had still been sleeping. He’d had to get to work, so his mother had come over to stay with Hollie so that she wouldn’t be alone when she woke up. His mother was to alert him if anyone came near the house.
He thought about how exhausted Hollie had looked in her sleep, the dark circles under her eyes, and her pale, bruised features. He’d wanted to stay there and hold her until she woke, to be there for her. But he had to find the real killer and he couldn’t do that without the resources he had at the station.
God, he’d never felt this way about any woman. He’d known he was getting in over his head when he’d asked her to dance at the Highlander. He’d only gotten deeper and deeper from that point on. What happened to staying away from relationships while he was a cop? What happened to waiting until he was ready to walk away from the police force and start his ranching career?
Because women like Hollie only come around once in a lifetime.
John’s gaze moved to his computer monitor and he stared at the mug shot of Hollie. She looked tired, frightened, and as if she was about to cry. His gut clenched as he scrolled through her vitals and the evidence against her. He didn’t think for a minute that she was guilty, but things sure looked bad. He had to prove her innocence before she went to trial. Hell, he needed to do it now. Her life,
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