“I can tell you we’re trying to track down some rustlers.”
“Oh, okay. How many?”
“I wish we knew. We think it’s a big operation with a lot of men involved.”
“That’s so scary.”
“It can be.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m as careful as I can be.”
“I hope so.”
“I’m not a loose cannon. I know what I have to do and pray no one gets shot or worse.”
“Have you ever been shot?”
“Twice. In my vest.”
“That hurts though, right?”
“Oh, yeah. It will knock you on your ass depending on the ammo.”
“At least it protects you.”
Rawley nodded. There was no way he’d tell her that some thieves use armor piercing ammo, and an agent had been killed. He didn’t need to stress her out or scare her. He leaned forward, picked up the menus and looked through them.
“What are you hungry for?” he asked.
“What choices do we have?”
“Chinese, pizza, subs, burgers,” he said with a shrug.
“Burgers from the diner?”
“No. They don’t deliver. The pizza place does though. They have subs too.”
“How about pizza?”
“Alright. I like everything on it.”
“Of course, you do. No peppers for me.”
“Okay. They can put peppers on half. Everything else alright?”
“Yes, I love their meat lovers with mushrooms, but without peppers on my half.”
“That’s what we’ll get then.” Rawley picked up his laptop from the coffee table, entered the site, placed an order, paid for it, added a tip, then closed the computer and set it back on the table. He stretched out on the sofa, then pulled her between his legs, turned on the TV and smiled when she snuggled against him.
Chapter Ten
Skylar couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Rawley truly was an amazing man. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and his strong jawline. The man had it all. She just wished he wasn’t in such a dangerous profession. The thought of him in a shootout, blood seeping from him, made her stomach clench with fear.
His hand slowly moved along her bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but it was just a comforting touch, not suggestive. She could stay right here forever, snuggled against his solid chest, breathing in his aftershave.
Half an hour later, there was a sharp knock at the front door. The dogs erupted into deep, territorial barks, but when Rawley stood and commanded them with a firm ‘Hush,’ they immediately sat at attention, ears perked. He pulled a crisp twenty from his worn leather wallet.
“Stay,” he said as he walked to the door, his sock-clad feet silent on the hardwood. He opened it, revealing a teenager clutching a steaming pizza box. “Here you go.” Rawley handed him the money.
“You already tipped online,” the boy said, shifting from foot to foot on the porch.
