Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors 14) - Page 42

She stared at Jacob through the plate-glass window as he warmed his truck for their trip into town. All faded denim and elemental power, he made her mouth water for more than doughnuts.

Jacob’s deep voice had reached to her through the night, comforting, protecting, wrapping itself around her like the quilt. She might not have always known where she was, but his voice had anchored her as she embraced another snippet of sleep.

Man, she was hungry, ravenous, wide-awake and better rested than she could ever remember feeling. A laugh snuck free. Like that was a stretch given she had a little over twenty-four hours’ worth of memories.

What had he thought as he’d moved her to his bed? The notion of him carrying her was both frustrating and more than a bit exciting.

Putting that first horrible day behind her made the world seem full of possibilities. It was okay to lean on Jacob, just a little. They were only riding into town together.

She watched him prepare the truck. Methodical. Steady. He moved with even-paced determination. He stepped from the cab, leaving the blue Ford running, puffy clouds billowing from the exhaust pipe.

Snow dusted his jet-black hair and shoulders. He really should wear a hat. She almost grabbed one for him, but stopped herself. She could already envision his sleepy-lidded look if she shouted out the door to him like some overprotective mother or schoolteacher.

His arms reached an impossibly long stretch across the windshield to scrape ice. Just below the waist of his navy ski parka, his jeans pulled taut against his backside. Chocolate melted in her mouth, warm and full over her taste buds.

Jacob knelt to disconnect the electrical cord from the block heater and thoughts of long, chocolate-flavored kisses slid away.

Block heater. A unique piece of equipment. The special addition to cold-weather-area vehicles to protect the battery. That wasn’t standard information except for someone who lived in extreme climates.

Yes. She wanted to dance. A real clue. Maybe more would come to her throughout the day. And if she were from this region, that would make locating her all the easier.

Background information. A small bit, but so important to a woman with little enough to call her own, and a driving need to find out if she had a child.

Dee dashed for the door, ready to share her revelation. “Jacob, guess what?”

He turned to her, snowflakes hanging on those long lashes of his. For a moment, no clouds darkened his eyes, just a pale, clear blue for her to fly into.

She forgot how to talk. Thinking became temporarily optional, as well, while she let his eyes glide over her.

Dee cleared her throat. She pointed to the cord dangling from the truck grill. “That’s a block heater.”

He blinked. His blue eyes became moody and impenetrable again. “Uh, yeah.”

“A block heater. I know what it is. I can see one in my head. I have one. I must be from the North, or was at some time.”

A half smile kicked up one corner of his mouth. “Good, good. Go with it. What does the car look like?”

Dee closed her eyes and thought, hard. Squinting though one eye at Jacob, she said, “Brown, maybe?”

“Okay. Model? Make?”

She grappled for the memory. She should have chased the thought while it was fresh.

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “It’s gone now.”

“That’s all right.” His hand cupped her shoulder. “You did well. Don’t force it. It’s a positive sign you’re remembering bits and pieces.”

“I hope so.” The weight of his hands reassured her enough to push out the question she’d been afraid to ask but had to have answered. “Did you see Mr. Smith’s car when he checked in?”

Jacob’s broad hand cupped her shoulder. “White Suburban. I checked my files this morning, and he had dealer plates, in-state.”

“Not great, but maybe the police can still track him.”

She looked up into those wolflike eyes, eyes that had greeted her hourly during the night.

With a final squeeze, Jacob’s hand fell away. “Emily’s got the front desk until Grace arrives in another half hour. Let’s hit the road.”

Her shoulder felt bare without his comforting touch. She hadn’t known to miss that comfort three seconds ago. How silly to mourn its loss now.

Tags: Catherine Mann Wingmen Warriors Romance
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