Conceal, Protect - By Carol Ericson Page 0,48

phone. She tossed the cell onto the coffee table. “What do you think that was all about? Do you think they were bluffing? How could they not know I wouldn’t find out? Should I contact them?”

“No. I have no idea what Zendaris is up to, but you do not want to initiate contact this time.” J.D. raked a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. He felt as if he’d just been on some giant roller coaster—three times. First, he’d had to back down the sharp peak he’d been climbing making love to Noelle. Then she hit him over the head with the fact that the best damned foreplay he’d experienced in years had been a ploy to squelch her OCD. Now this.

It wasn’t like Zendaris to play games—not that the SOB didn’t like games.

He massaged his temples. His head ached, along with a few other body parts he’d rather not think about.

“I guess we have to wait and see if Zendaris’s men contact you again. Why don’t you take that nap? It should be easier now that you know Ted is safe. I’m going to get started on some work.”

That’s what he needed to unwind this coil in his belly—good, hard manual labor.

“Keep your phone next to you and your shotgun in the corner, even though I’ll be right out front on the porch.” He patted her back in a brotherly manner. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’d feel better if I knew what was going on.”

“Wouldn’t we all?”

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, J.D. pulled up the last of the rotted wood from the porch and stood back, hands on hips, surveying the gaps he’d have to cover with plywood.

A truck rumbled down the drive, and J.D. narrowed his eyes, peering at the windshield.

A woman waved out the window and beeped her horn. She parked the truck next to Noelle’s and hopped to the ground. Long, dark hair streamed from a knit cap on her head, and she raised a gloved hand in greeting.

“Is Noelle around?”

“She’s home, but she’s resting.” J.D. leaned on the handle of the pickax.

The woman flipped back her hair and strode toward the ripped-up porch. “And you are?”

His muscles tensed and his nostrils flared, picking up the woman’s musky perfume. “I’m helping out Noelle around the ranch.”

“I can see that.” She fluttered gloved fingers at the pile of rotted wood. “I’m Tara Nettles from down the road. I grew up with Noelle...and Ted.”

Noelle had mentioned her friend Tara before. She’d been involved with Ted. Too bad Ted had moved on to those hot ski bunnies, although this woman, with her flowing dark hair and doe eyes, fit that description as well. She and Noelle could be sisters.

Bracing the pickax against the porch railing, J.D. held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”

She clasped his ungloved hand in a strong grip, sizing him up with her dark eyes—pretty in their own right, but they couldn’t compare to Noelle’s deep violet-blue eyes.

“Noelle didn’t mention that she was in the market for a handyman. I could’ve recommended a few locals.”

J.D. shrugged. “We sort of ran into each other, and it just worked out.”

“Were you the one driving the truck that crashed last night? I heard Noelle spent the night in the hospital. That’s why I’m here.”

“She got a concussion and a cut on the head. She’s fine, but she needs her rest.”

“That girl doesn’t need any more traumas in her life.” Tara placed her hands on her hips and planted her booted feet about a foot apart. “So I hope you’re not the type of man to roll in dragging a wagonload of drama with you.”

She had no idea who had all the drama following her.

“Me?” He crossed his arms and grabbed his biceps, feeling the chill now that he’d stopped working, or maybe it was just the icicles shooting from this woman’s eyes. “Drama-free.”

Tara snorted. She actually snorted.

“Yeah, right. You look about as dangerous as they come, cowboy.” She shook her finger at him. “Don’t toy with Noelle’s emotions.”

She really had no idea.

He could give her an earful about how Noelle had just led him down a heated path of seduction, only to cut him off cold. Technically, he’d been the one to call it quits but when she’d told him to hurry up and get it over with that had pretty much punctured his balloon.

He held up his hands. “I’m here to work.”

And to do his job protecting Noelle.

“Keep it that way.” She’d started

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