Colton 911: Deadly Texas Reunion. Beth Cornelison
old? Kind of late for the newspaper to be writing up the gruesome discovery. Whoever she was, her blue jeans fit her shapely tush in a way that made Nolan look twice…before mentally castigating himself for even noticing. He’d been suspended from the Bureau because he’d let a beautiful woman convince him to follow his baser instincts instead of his professional ethics. But never again.
He crossed the parking lot without saying anything, his athletic shoes silent on the asphalt. The woman was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t seem to notice his approach. Not good, he thought to himself. What if his intent was to kidnap her or rob her? She really needed to be more aware of her surroundings.
He stopped a few feet behind her and observed for a few seconds before, without turning from her crouch, she said, “Just so you know, I’m packing a .38, and I’m trained to use it.”
Nolan grinned and muttered, “Welcome to Texas.”
“Is there something you want?” she said, still photographing the upturned earth and shallow trench where, presumably, the body had recently been found.
Nolan took a sip of his coffee, then said, “How about your name, and the reason you’re nosing around?”
The blonde angled her head toward him. Blinked. Gasped. And sprang from her crouch, leaping toward him in one fluid motion. Squealing, she jumped against him, crushing his coffee cup and wrapping herself around him in a bear hug. “Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! Nolan!”
He had no choice but to catch the woman, or they’d both have tumbled to the pavement. Her legs hooked around him, and he put his hands beneath the shapely bottom he’d been admiring earlier to support her as she squeezed him and giggled.
And his heart stilled. He knew that effervescent laugh. “Summer?”
Nolan leaned back, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman’s face. As she raised her head from his shoulder, she bumped his chin, making him bite his tongue. But, sure enough, the spitfire hugging him for all he was worth was Summer. His Summer.
“Yep!” she said, her full-wattage smile beaming at him. Her face had lost its baby fat, but not the elfin shape of her nose and full lips, her rounded cheekbones and wide almond-shaped eyes, the same color as the dark roast coffee now soaking his shirt.
He took a moment to catch his breath, then wheezed, “Holy cow! How the heck are you?”
When she finally put her feet on the ground and stepped back, she kept her grip on his arms, as if she were afraid he’d disappear if she let go. “I’m good. Excellent, in fact, now that you’re here! Oh my god, Nolan, I’m so happy to see you!”
He chuckled and nodded to his spilled coffee. “Clearly.”
She glanced down at the brown stain on his white T-shirt and cringed. “Oops. Sorry!”
“Forget it. The shirt will wash.” He nodded toward the police tape. “What were you up to over there?”
“Oh, that?” She bent to retrieve the notebook she’d dropped when she’d hugged him. “Gathering info for a new case.”
“A case? You’re a cop?”
She wrinkled her nose in the captivating way he remembered and shook her head. “Not a cop. A private investigator.”
Nolan raised his eyebrows and chuckled his surprise. “You’re a PI?”
Her smile dimmed, and she narrowed a glare on him. “Why is that funny to you?”
“It’s just—”
“A woman can be a PI same as any man!” She straightened her back, making the most of her five-foot-nothing stature as she squared off with him.
He raised both palms toward her. “Whoa! No offense intended. I just never would have pictured you becoming a PI is all.”
Her hackles eased, and she gave him a lopsided grin. “Oh, yeah? And what did you see me becoming?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe joining the Army like your dad? Or working on the Colton Ranch wrangling cows alongside Jonah and Dallas?”
She twisted her mouth as if thinking. “Not the Army. Too transient. I had my fill of moving all over the place with my dad.” Then focusing her attention on him again, she rushed forward for another hug. “I can’t believe it’s you! You’re really here! It’s been way too long.”
He hugged her back, more awkwardly aware of the feminine curves snuggled against him. It’s Summer, for God’s sake! You’re not allowed to notice her figure!
Leaning back to peer up at him, she asked, “What about you? What brings you here?”
He hitched a thumb toward the office buildings. “I’m meeting Bellamy. Donovan’s wife?”
She nodded. “I’ve met her. She’s great.”
“Apparently her coworkers threw a baby shower today, and she needs help lugging some big items out to her car.”
Her smile twitched playfully. “That’s very kind of you to help her out, but… I meant what are you doing in Whisperwood?” Her expression changed instantly to excited hopefulness. “Did you move back here? Oh, Nolan! Say you did!”
He scratched his chin as he flashed a moue of regret. “Afraid not, Tadpole.”
“Tadpole.” She sighed happily. “It’s been a while since anyone called me that.” She cocked her head to the side. “So what did bring you to town after all these years?”
Whether she intended the scolding tone or not, he heard a mild reprimand in her question that chewed guiltily at his gut—followed immediately by the acid bite of anger and apprehension left by his suspension. “I’m taking some time off to…rest. Get some perspective on some things.”
Rather than satisfy Summer, his vague answer seemed to intrigue her. Her gaze intensified, her mouth compressed and her brow wrinkled in consternation. “What the hell does that mean? Get some perspective?”
“It’s a job-related issue.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Were you fired?”
He rolled his shoulders, cleared his throat. “No.” Might as well have been.
Her gaze narrowed further, and he recognized a deep insight in her espresso-brown stare. Summer had always been able to read him well when they were kids.
He drew his shoulders back and glanced away from her knowing gaze. This suspension was a crock, a humiliation. How would he ever be taken seriously by his fellow agents again?
“Nolan?”
He aimed a thumb over his shoulder. “Look, um… Bellamy is waiting for me, so I need to run. But it was great to see you, Summer.” He smiled, meaning it. “I’d love to get together for coffee and a catch-up.” He motioned to the front of his shirt with his empty cup. “You do owe me a cup.”
Summer tucked her golden-blond hair behind her ear, nodding. “That I do, hoss.” She patted her pockets, then frowned. “Dang, I left my business cards at the office.” Flipping a page in her notepad, she scribbled a phone number and ripped the sheet out. “Call me. I want to hear what you’ve been up to, what sort of perspective you need in this mysterious career of yours.”
Folding the sheet, he tucked it in his back pocket. “Count on it.”
He leaned in to give her cheek a peck, catching the tantalizing floral scent of her shampoo as he did. At the last second, he thought better of the platonic show of affection. Once bitten, twice shy and all that crap. He angled his face away so that they merely brushed cheeks. He took a long step back and rubbed his free hand on the leg of his jeans. Damn it, was this what he’d come to? Second-guessing every friendly gesture around a woman, afraid of his actions being misconstrued?
He continued walking backward, somehow reluctant