sure there wasn’t any vandalism or a clutch of homeless folks squatting in the house.
Right now, he was ready to shut down his brain and get some sleep.
Chapter Two
The house didn’t look any better in the daylight. Ellie stood beside her truck and stared in dismay at her so-called inheritance. She wished she had someone with her because she was a little loath to even step foot in the place. It was probably infested with rats and snakes.
That thought had her turning to fish her shotgun from behind the seat of the truck. She dug around for the box of shells, loaded two into the shotgun, and stuck a few extras into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Man up, Ellie.” She grumbled to herself as she stared at the front door of the house. “It’s all you’ve got.”
Sucking in a breath, she started for the door. Two feet away from the front door, she stopped and whirled around. A shiny black Dodge truck pulled up behind her old Ford F150 and stopped.
Ellie’s eyes bugged out when the man stepped out of the truck. Holy shit. He was something. Tall, really tall, maybe six-three or six-four, with coal black hair, eyes the color of storm clouds and a body that would have any women with a pulse suffering a hormone spike.
Slim hips and strong legs encased in black denim. A starched white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to display well-developed forearms made for one pleasing picture. The gun clipped to his belt along with a badge, however, gave her pause. What was the law doing here? And why was there something familiar about Mr. Sex in Jeans?
“Morning.” His voice was deep, tinged with an accent that had a definite Southern twang.
“Morning.”
He walked over to her. “Cam Marsh. Sheriff’s Department. Mr. Whitehorse, the owner, passed a little while back.”
Ellie nearly fainted dead away. What were the odds that she would run into Cameron Marsh in Florida?
“Cameron?”
“Yeah, Cam. Marsh.”
“You have two brothers, Clint and Clayton? And a sister Carly?”
“Yeah. Uh, do we know each other Miss…?”
“Ellie Whitehorse.”
“Ellie?”
She could see the surprise on his face. “It’s been a long time, Cam. It’s good to see you.” Ellie transferred the shotgun to her left hand and extended her right hand to Cam.
His hand engulfed hers, making her keenly aware of his size, along with being more keenly aware of what a powerful effect his touch had on her. Damn if he wasn’t about the finest man she’d ever laid eyes on. The boy she had known and loved as a child had grown into one hell of a man.
“Ellie Whitehorse,” he said and smiled. “Damn. I haven’t seen you since…”
“Since your mother caught us in the backseat of her car.” Ellie filled in the blank.
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Damn, I can’t believe this. What’re you doing here?”
“My dad left the place to me.”
“You’re Mike’s daughter?”
“Yep.”
“But I thought… never mind. It’s really good to see you.” He released her hand and indicated the shotgun. “You expecting trouble?”
Ellie shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at the house. “Wasn’t quite sure what I might find in there.”
“Want some company? Just in case?”
Ellie wouldn’t have admitted for the world how relieved she was at his offer. She wasn’t a total chicken, but she sure as heck didn’t want to go in that house by herself.
“Thank you.”
Cam started toward the house. “You got keys, right?”
Ellie fished her key ring out of the pocket of her jeans and hurried to catch up. She gave the key to Cam and waited as he located the right key and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, stepped inside, and flipped a light switch. After a moment, she followed.
“What the…?”
She had imagined a lot of things— most of them awful, but she’d never imagined this. The front room had little furniture— an old recliner with one of those ancient wooden table-lamp combos sitting beside it, and a very old console
Right now, he was ready to shut down his brain and get some sleep.
Chapter Two
The house didn’t look any better in the daylight. Ellie stood beside her truck and stared in dismay at her so-called inheritance. She wished she had someone with her because she was a little loath to even step foot in the place. It was probably infested with rats and snakes.
That thought had her turning to fish her shotgun from behind the seat of the truck. She dug around for the box of shells, loaded two into the shotgun, and stuck a few extras into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Man up, Ellie.” She grumbled to herself as she stared at the front door of the house. “It’s all you’ve got.”
Sucking in a breath, she started for the door. Two feet away from the front door, she stopped and whirled around. A shiny black Dodge truck pulled up behind her old Ford F150 and stopped.
Ellie’s eyes bugged out when the man stepped out of the truck. Holy shit. He was something. Tall, really tall, maybe six-three or six-four, with coal black hair, eyes the color of storm clouds and a body that would have any women with a pulse suffering a hormone spike.
Slim hips and strong legs encased in black denim. A starched white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to display well-developed forearms made for one pleasing picture. The gun clipped to his belt along with a badge, however, gave her pause. What was the law doing here? And why was there something familiar about Mr. Sex in Jeans?
“Morning.” His voice was deep, tinged with an accent that had a definite Southern twang.
“Morning.”
He walked over to her. “Cam Marsh. Sheriff’s Department. Mr. Whitehorse, the owner, passed a little while back.”
Ellie nearly fainted dead away. What were the odds that she would run into Cameron Marsh in Florida?
“Cameron?”
“Yeah, Cam. Marsh.”
“You have two brothers, Clint and Clayton? And a sister Carly?”
“Yeah. Uh, do we know each other Miss…?”
“Ellie Whitehorse.”
“Ellie?”
She could see the surprise on his face. “It’s been a long time, Cam. It’s good to see you.” Ellie transferred the shotgun to her left hand and extended her right hand to Cam.
His hand engulfed hers, making her keenly aware of his size, along with being more keenly aware of what a powerful effect his touch had on her. Damn if he wasn’t about the finest man she’d ever laid eyes on. The boy she had known and loved as a child had grown into one hell of a man.
“Ellie Whitehorse,” he said and smiled. “Damn. I haven’t seen you since…”
“Since your mother caught us in the backseat of her car.” Ellie filled in the blank.
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Damn, I can’t believe this. What’re you doing here?”
“My dad left the place to me.”
“You’re Mike’s daughter?”
“Yep.”
“But I thought… never mind. It’s really good to see you.” He released her hand and indicated the shotgun. “You expecting trouble?”
Ellie shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at the house. “Wasn’t quite sure what I might find in there.”
“Want some company? Just in case?”
Ellie wouldn’t have admitted for the world how relieved she was at his offer. She wasn’t a total chicken, but she sure as heck didn’t want to go in that house by herself.
“Thank you.”
Cam started toward the house. “You got keys, right?”
Ellie fished her key ring out of the pocket of her jeans and hurried to catch up. She gave the key to Cam and waited as he located the right key and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, stepped inside, and flipped a light switch. After a moment, she followed.
“What the…?”
She had imagined a lot of things— most of them awful, but she’d never imagined this. The front room had little furniture— an old recliner with one of those ancient wooden table-lamp combos sitting beside it, and a very old console
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