Colton K-9 Bodyguard. Lara Lacombe

Colton K-9 Bodyguard - Lara Lacombe


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while Micah quickly stripped the bed and put on fresh linens.

      Bea glanced around, trying to determine if this was Micah’s room or simply a guest room. She wasn’t about to displace him from his own bed.

      She didn’t see any personal effects in the room, but Micah had always been tidy, and his time in the army had probably reinforced the habit. A few pictures hung on the walls, framed shots of sunrises and sunsets in a desert, the sky a kaleidoscope of oranges and pinks and reds that looked too intense to be real. “These photos are gorgeous,” she said.

      Micah glanced up and smiled. “Thanks. I took them while I was on deployment. Photography was kind of a hobby for me then.”

      “What about now?” Bea was no art critic, but based on those shots it seemed like Micah had real talent. It would be a shame for him to let it lie dormant.

      He shrugged as he folded an extra blanket and placed it at the foot of the bed. “I don’t get out with my camera as much as I used to. There just hasn’t been time.”

      “That’s too bad,” she remarked. “Hopefully after you close the Groom Killer case your schedule will go back to normal.”

      “That would be nice,” Micah said. “You’re all set in here. Let me show you the bathroom, and I’ll grab a spare T-shirt and some flannel pants for you to sleep in tonight.”

      For the first time, Bea realized she didn’t have any of her clothes or toiletries. “Do you think we can stop by my place tomorrow so I can pack a bag?” she asked as she followed him down the hallway again.

      “No problem.” Micah showed her the bathroom and placed some clean towels and a few sample containers of soap, shampoo and toothpaste on the counter, along with a travel-size toothbrush that was still in its original wrapper.

      “Thank you,” she said, touched by his willingness to welcome her into his home. Would she have been so gracious if the shoe had been on the other foot? “I’m not staying in your bedroom, am I? I don’t want you to give up your bed for me.”

      Micah shook his head. “You’re in the guest room. I’m just down the hall, across from you.” He studied her face. “You look tired.” It wasn’t a compliment, but his voice was kind. “Are you hungry? I can fix a sandwich or heat a can of soup if you’d like something to eat.”

      Bea hadn’t eaten since lunch, but the thought of food made her stomach roll. “No, thanks. I think I’d rather just wash up and go to bed, if that’s okay with you.”

      The corner of Micah’s mouth curved up. “You don’t have to keep me entertained,” he said. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Holler at me if you need anything.” He and Chunk backed out of the room and into the hall.

      “Thank you,” Bea called out. He acknowledged her words with a wave of his hand as he and the dog walked toward the kitchen. Bea closed the door and turned to the sink, wincing as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

      A large bandage dominated her forehead, a few spots of red bright on the white gauze. She poked gingerly at the area, but it was still numb from the injections the doctor had administered before he’d stitched her up.

      “That’s going to hurt in the morning,” she muttered. And it wasn’t going to be pretty, either. But she’d take a gash on the head over being dead any day.

      It didn’t take long to carefully splash water on her face and brush her teeth. A few minutes later, Bea stepped out into the hall and made her way back to the guest bedroom.

      A folded shirt and pair of pants had been set on the bed, and for a moment, Bea could only stare at them. She had no doubt they’d fit her—actually, given Micah’s size, his clothes would be quite large on her. But the idea of wearing his shirt gave her pause. It was such an intimate act—the kind of thing lovers did without a second thought. Once upon a time, she would have slipped on his shirt without hesitation. Now she wasn’t so sure...

      She didn’t have many other options, though. She couldn’t sleep in her clothes; she had to wear them again tomorrow and didn’t want to wrinkle them too badly. And sleeping nude was out of the question. With her luck, the smoke alarm would go off in the middle of the night and she’d spring from bed, forgetting her lack of clothes.

      There was no help for it. She was going to have to wear Micah’s shirt.

      Bea undressed and draped her clothes across the back of the chair. Then she tugged the gray shirt over her head.

      As she’d thought, it was large on her, the hem falling midway to her knees and the sleeves ending past her elbows. It was also incredibly soft and smelled strongly of Micah’s detergent. She took a deep breath before she could stop herself, savoring the scent she’d always associated with him.

      The sheets were cool as she slid into bed, and for the first time since her attack, Bea’s body relaxed completely, sinking into the embrace of the soft mattress. Bea normally had trouble falling asleep in a new place, but that wasn’t going to be a problem tonight. She turned onto her side and wrapped her arms around herself, breathing in the comforting scent of the man she loved as exhaustion claimed her.

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