Evidence of Trust (Colorado Trust 1)

“You okay?”

Joel’s husky voice sent another shimmer of sensation through her. She made a face into the privacy of her sleeping bag, then managed a “Um, hm.”

“Then relax,” he admonished. “Or none of this will do any good.”

Turning her face back toward the fire, she rested her cheek on the sleeping bag, blew out a deep breath, and willed the tension from her muscles.

“That’s better.”

No, not really. Because now she was beginning to imagine his sensual touch moving beyond her back. Wondered what he’d do if she rolled over and reached up to pull him down for a kiss. Her nipples tightened in anticipation of one of those rough palms skimming up to cup her breast. Problem with that line of thinking was she wouldn’t want him to stop with just a kiss, and Billy was right, she didn’t do casual sex.

Another moan threatened to break free. She needed a distraction now. “Tell me, how does one become a special investigator for the park system?”

His massage paused for a moment, then continued. “Be good at solving mysteries, pass a test, and be willing to travel.”

“So, you move from park to park wherever you’re needed?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, scratch that off my list of what I might do with my life.” She was joking, because after six years of college, there really wasn’t any doubt as to where she’d end up after the summer was over. No matter how many slips of the tongue she had.

“You don’t like to travel?” Joel asked.

“I do, but not all the time. That must be hell on your relationships.”

“I don’t do relationships.” His hands increased their pressure. “Too messy when I move on. Because I always move on.”

Kind of sounded like he was warning her, but she completely understood. “I get it. I’ve always planned to return to Chicago, so it’s easier to just make friends and have fun each summer.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little hard to make friends when a lot of the people you work with start off as potential suspects.” His tone was light, but she suspected there might be a depth of truth to the joke he would not willingly admit.

“Sounds lonely.”

She felt his shrug through his hands. “I didn’t grow up with any siblings, so I’m used to being by myself.”

“Ah, ha. Only child explains your whole my-way-or-the-highway attitude.”

His hands stilled. “I’m not that bad.”

The hint of a smile in his voice encouraged her to tease. “Yes you are. Your parents probably spoiled you rotten.”

“I’ll have you know, my dad was very strict.”

“Then I bet it’s your mom’s fault.”

Tension practically exploded from his fingertips. “That’s another bet you’d win.”

She tucked her chin toward her shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of his face after that rough statement. “I take it you and your mom aren’t close?”

He tugged her flannel shirt back down to her waist and pushed to his feet. “No.”

She eased up into a sitting position and watched him over her shoulder as she buttoned her shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

A raised hand cut her off. “Just let it go.”

Whoa. Sore subject. Firelight and shadow played across the angles of his face as he tossed a couple more pieces of wood on top the others in the pit, sending a shower of sparks into the air. She pulled on her sweatshirt, then her jacket to ward off the chill. Turning to face the fire, she remained silent while he rearranged the burning logs with a poker. His jaw was set in a rigid line, his movements stiff and jerky.

She waited until he set the poker down. Waited as he lowered himself down to his sleeping bag and settled back against his saddle. When he pulled his hat down to shadow his face in a clear indication he was going to sleep, she bit her tongue in an effort to keep her mouth shut. It didn’t work.