The Marshal's Witness. Lena Diaz
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he turned the conversation back on Mike. Apparently Mike owned a small insurance company in Little Rock, and he was anxious to get some fishing action here in the mountains. Ryan made suggestions on where Mike could catch the biggest fish this time of year.
Jessica didn’t know if anything Ryan said about the area was true, but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. If she hadn’t known who he was, she would absolutely believe he’d grown up around here and that he was a professional trail guide.
As he spoke he lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Only then did she realize how badly she was shaking. With Ryan’s warm strength supporting her, she began to relax.
It felt good being held by him—too good. It made her wish they could have met under different circumstances, before her life had gone so horribly wrong. Would he have liked her if they had? Would he have gifted her with that sexy smile that gave him a boyish, youthful look? Unfortunately, she’d never know.
“Thanks for the tips.” Mike shook Ryan’s hand again. “I’m going fishing real soon. Hopefully I’ll catch something big.” He gave Jessica a broad wink.
Ryan’s arm tensed around her shoulders. Or had she imagined that? He smiled at Mike and gave him a wave. Jessica followed Ryan’s lead, waving and smiling as the other man jogged back to the street.
As soon as Mike disappeared, Ryan grabbed Jessica’s hand and tugged her toward her house.
“Ryan, stop. Where are you going?”
He paused at her back door. “My coffee has to be cold by now. You owe me a fresh, hot cup. Don’t I smell coffee inside?” He shoved the sliding glass door back and hauled her inside, closing and locking the door behind them.
“You’re acting kind of strange. What’s wrong?” Her earlier unease was reawakening as she followed him into the kitchen. “Did you recognize that man?”
Ryan frowned at the empty coffeepot on the coffeemaker beside the stove. He opened the pantry and rummaged inside.
“Ryan?” Jessica repeated. “Did you recognize that man? Should I be worried?”
He turned around with a box of filters and a can of coffee and deposited them on the countertop. “Never seen him before.” He pulled out the drawer next to the stove. “Is there a measuring thing in here somewhere?”
Jessica shoved his hand aside and closed the drawer. “Let me do it.” She’d unpacked only a handful of boxes last night, out of necessity. The silverware was in the drawer below the one Ryan had opened.
After setting a tablespoon on the counter, she grabbed some non-dairy creamer out of the pantry, grateful that whoever had stocked her first supply of groceries had thought to include coffee. Before the trial, she’d had a habit of stopping at Starbucks every morning before work. She probably could have paid for a vacation in the Bahamas with all the money she’d spent on coffee.
“How do you take it?” she asked.
“Strong and black.” Ryan moved out of the kitchen and leaned against the countertop bar, resting his forearms on the worn butcher-block laminate.
Jessica spooned coffee grounds into the filter. “I appreciate you jumping in on the conversation with Mike. I went totally blank, couldn’t remember anything. I almost introduced myself using my real name.”
Ryan didn’t seem as appalled by that admission as she was.
“You did fine. It’ll be easier next time.”
Her stomach jumped at the thought of next time. “I hope you’re right.”
After starting the coffeemaker, she leaned back, taking her first good look at him since the fiasco with the stranger. Judging by the stubble darkening Ryan’s face, he hadn’t had a chance to shave yet this morning. His short, dark hair was slightly damp. He’d probably just finished taking a shower before he came over.
A hot shower, unlike hers.
“I don’t suppose you know how to fix a water heater?” she asked.
He raised a brow. “Yours isn’t working?”
“Nope. Unfortunately, I found that out the hard way.” She gave him a rueful grin and pulled her hair back to show him the bruise on the side of her head.
His brows drew down in concern. He rushed around the countertop, stopping in front of her. His fingers gently brushed back her hair as he examined her bruise. “What happened?”
Shivering beneath his touch, she stepped back before she did something stupid, like wrap her arms around his waist and pull him closer. She shook her head at her absurd thoughts. This was Ryan. Maybe she’d bumped her head harder than she thought.
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, hoping he would think she’d shivered because she was chilled. “When the cold water hit me, I jumped out of the tub and slipped. Bumped my head on the side of the toilet.”
The corner of Ryan’s mouth twitched and he coughed behind his hand. “Ah, well, we can’t have that. I’ll see if I can solve your hot water problem.”
He headed into the family room toward the foyer. Jessica realized the shower curtain was clearly visible lying on the bathroom floor. If Ryan happened to glance that way, he’d know his little practical joke had paid off. He’d know how much that ridiculous shower curtain annoyed her.
Eager to turn his attention, she blurted out, “Have you had breakfast yet?”
He looked over at her, just as she’d hoped. “Are you offering to cook?” His deep voice held a note of surprise as he paused in front of the door that led into the garage.
She was surprised, too. cooking for Ryan wasn’t something she’d ever expected to do. She barely cooked for herself, let alone someone else. What was the point of cooking when she could pop a frozen pizza in the oven? Still, the idea of doing something as normal as cooking someone else a meal sounded appealing. It had been far too long since she’d done anything that remotely resembled normal.
“I was going to fix myself breakfast, anyway,” she said. Ryan didn’t need to know that her version of fixing breakfast was to toast a piece of bread. “If you fix my water heater, I suppose I could make enough for two.”
“Biscuits, bacon, eggs?” His expression turned hopeful.
She groaned. What had she gotten herself into? “All right, but I’m not a good cook. I only know how to make eggs one way, well done.”
“I don’t mind.” He gave her a smug look as if it had been his plan all along to get her to cook him breakfast. Then he went into the garage.
Jessica ran to the bathroom and quickly rehung the curtain rod. Then she hurried back to the kitchen, hoping she could figure out how to fry an egg without burning it.
RYAN SHUT THE door and dug his cell phone out of his pocket. Jessica’s offer to cook breakfast had certainly surprised him. He didn’t know why she’d made that offer, but he was grateful to have her busy doing something else so he could do what he needed to do—find out who Mike Higgins really was. Something about that man was making all the hairs stand up on the back of Ryan’s neck.
Ryan pressed his boss’s number on his phone and weaved around the car and the stacks of boxes to the far corner of the garage. As he’d suspected, the thermostat on the water heater was turned on the lowest setting. The team that had set up the house for Jessica’s use had forgotten to turn the thermostat up. He turned the dial. The water heater clicked and hissed as it started heating the water.
“Alex Trask,” his boss’s voice sounded over the phone.
“It’s Ryan.” He leaned back against Jessica’s car and crossed his legs at the ankles. “We might have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“A