Them? She knew what he meant, of course. Her gaze lowered to his chest. To the dozens of scars that crisscrossed his tanned flesh. “You survived.” Simple. The marks didn’t detract from his appeal. They just made him look tougher, stronger. The scars were silent testament to all that he’d survived. “Is there more you want to tell me?”
Because she would listen.
He shook his head. “I don’t get you. Earlier, I thought I was— I don’t get you.”
Most people didn’t. Story of her life. But she tried to keep her voice light as she said, “What’s to get?” She wanted to lift her hand and trace the white ridge of the scar on his shoulder. Or let her fingers slide over the still-red scar on his stomach. A long, thick red line that looked dangerously fresh. “You’re a survivor.”
“Most women get... They don’t like the scars.”
She forced herself to hold his stare. “I’m not m-most women.” Nothing about him was a turnoff to her. No, he turned her on too much. More than any other man ever had. He was lethal in so many ways.
“No” was his quiet, thoughtful reply. “You aren’t.”
Her hands had fisted. The better not to touch him. But now she saw the curiosity in his eyes. The kind of curiosity a man got when he found a woman he wanted.
Her breath caught. She didn’t know what to do right now. Stand there, kiss him or run.
Since she was largely a coward at heart, she ran. Or at least, she walked very, very quickly from the room.
And felt his gaze follow her every step.
* * *
VERONICA STUTTERED WHEN she was nervous. He seemed to make her nervous a whole lot.
Jasper kinda liked her stutter. It was a little sweet and oddly sexy.
But he didn’t have time to think about her sexy stutter then. For the moment, he had to keep his thoughts on the case.
Despite the news that Gunner had given him about the would-be kidnappers, Jasper wasn’t going to head out of town with Veronica. Sure, it looked as though the trail might be leading to Dallas, but the shooter had been in Whiskey Ridge hours before. He’d been right there. So Jasper was betting that he was still around. The shooter had just gone to ground.
Gotten cover.
For the time being.
“Why are we going back to Last Chance?” Veronica asked him, and he saw her tense as she glanced out of the window and toward the smashed fence.
Had last night’s wreck reminded her of the hell she’d faced as a child? He wanted to ask her, but Jasper knew he’d pushed her too much already.
“Your brother had a contact at Last Chance.” This much was true. Jasper also wanted to make sure that contact saw him with Veronica. All the better to bait his trap.
“How do you know that?”
Lie, lie, lie. “Because I recognized him when I went into the bar last night.”
“Another army buddy?”
“Something like that.” More like a guy who’d gone AWOL and gotten tossed in the brig. A guy who knew how to deal dirty.
Jasper had been surprised to spot the man there, and if Veronica hadn’t been in danger, he would have pushed the guy for information before he’d left last night.
“It’s the middle of the day. No one is even gonna be in Last Chance now.” Veronica’s lack of hope was obvious.
But he knew something she didn’t. “The owner will be there.”
She turned her head. Frowned.
“He’s the one we want.” They were past the accident scene now. Good. It looked as though she was even breathing better.