Missy Meets the Marshal (Lone Star Love Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Amelia Smarts
his arms around her and never to leave the comfort she imagined she'd find there. How she longed for a single kind word from him, just one word showing he was pleased with her in some way. Her reverie was interrupted when she felt her feet leave the floor.
He swept her into his arms and lowered her into the tub. How gently he did so contrasted with his scolding words. "If it were up to you, Missy, the bath would be cold by the time you decided to do as you're told."
Beth closed her eyes and relaxed in the hot water. She felt bliss and comfort. The warmth soothed her and brought her racing mind to a crawl.
The marshal positioned an armless wooden chair next to the bathtub and took a seat. "Would you like me to wash you, Missy?" He asked the question in a gentler tone.
Beth opened her eyes. She felt herself nodding.
He smiled at her for the first time. "Criminy, honey. If you aren't the nicest surprise to ever show up at the jail."
Beth felt her spirit soar upon hearing those words, especially his word of endearment. She knew honey was a word used loosely, but it was also a word used fondly. He rolled up his sleeves, lathered soap in a soft cloth, and washed her back in circular motions.
"I know I shouldn't take such liberties, you being married and all, but I get the feeling your husband is a bit of a bastard and that's why you're not with him. Am I right?"
"I'm not married, Marshal."
His hand settled on her back for a moment, changing the sensation she felt from that of being washed to that of being held. "No more lies, Missy."
She quieted, stilled by his touch and his words, which were delivered to her in a low, firm tone she'd never heard directed at her before. In his words was a warning, but it was unmistakably wrapped in tenderness.
Beth marveled at the feeling of him gently scrubbing away the dirt and grime from her body, and she wanted to relax completely, but it concerned her that he seemed able to tell the difference between when she lied and when she told the truth. She needed to be careful around him. Very careful. She shivered, afraid once again. The marshal felt the change in her body. He reached over and touched her cheek with the back of his hand so gently that Beth suddenly felt close to tears. He used a finger to turn her face in his direction and searched her eyes.
"You're afraid of something, Missy. Tell me what it is. It's my job to protect people."
She stared into his kind eyes. She knew he was right. Protecting people was his job, but punishing people was also his job, and that's what she was afraid of. She racked her brain for something to say that made sense but didn't reveal too much. "I fear many things, Marshal. There's much you don't know about me."
He resumed, washing her arm. "Yes, that's true. There's much you don't know about me too. How about we learn a little about each other? I'll start. First, you can stop calling me Marshal. My name is Grover." He offered her a smile.
She relaxed a little. Knowing his name without the lawman title attached made her feel a little more at ease. "Okay, Grover."
"Should I call you Beth? I will if you insist, but I happen to like Missy a whole lot on you. Fits you somehow." He winked at her, which compelled her to match his smile with one of her own.
"I don't mind you calling me Missy, if it pleases you, Grover."
"Good. One thing is settled at least." He moved the cloth to her breast. He spoke in a casual manner while cleaning each of her breasts with a gentleness she'd never felt from a man. "I'm thirty-three years old and I've never been married. Not that I haven't wanted to get hitched, but women are in short supply around here, and I admit I've been too yellow to get a mail-order bride from the east."
It surprised her to learn he'd never married. She figured him for a widower. "Surely you could have married someone around here, Grover. You have a pleasing look about you and no doubt earn a right smart living as town marshal."
He smiled
He swept her into his arms and lowered her into the tub. How gently he did so contrasted with his scolding words. "If it were up to you, Missy, the bath would be cold by the time you decided to do as you're told."
Beth closed her eyes and relaxed in the hot water. She felt bliss and comfort. The warmth soothed her and brought her racing mind to a crawl.
The marshal positioned an armless wooden chair next to the bathtub and took a seat. "Would you like me to wash you, Missy?" He asked the question in a gentler tone.
Beth opened her eyes. She felt herself nodding.
He smiled at her for the first time. "Criminy, honey. If you aren't the nicest surprise to ever show up at the jail."
Beth felt her spirit soar upon hearing those words, especially his word of endearment. She knew honey was a word used loosely, but it was also a word used fondly. He rolled up his sleeves, lathered soap in a soft cloth, and washed her back in circular motions.
"I know I shouldn't take such liberties, you being married and all, but I get the feeling your husband is a bit of a bastard and that's why you're not with him. Am I right?"
"I'm not married, Marshal."
His hand settled on her back for a moment, changing the sensation she felt from that of being washed to that of being held. "No more lies, Missy."
She quieted, stilled by his touch and his words, which were delivered to her in a low, firm tone she'd never heard directed at her before. In his words was a warning, but it was unmistakably wrapped in tenderness.
Beth marveled at the feeling of him gently scrubbing away the dirt and grime from her body, and she wanted to relax completely, but it concerned her that he seemed able to tell the difference between when she lied and when she told the truth. She needed to be careful around him. Very careful. She shivered, afraid once again. The marshal felt the change in her body. He reached over and touched her cheek with the back of his hand so gently that Beth suddenly felt close to tears. He used a finger to turn her face in his direction and searched her eyes.
"You're afraid of something, Missy. Tell me what it is. It's my job to protect people."
She stared into his kind eyes. She knew he was right. Protecting people was his job, but punishing people was also his job, and that's what she was afraid of. She racked her brain for something to say that made sense but didn't reveal too much. "I fear many things, Marshal. There's much you don't know about me."
He resumed, washing her arm. "Yes, that's true. There's much you don't know about me too. How about we learn a little about each other? I'll start. First, you can stop calling me Marshal. My name is Grover." He offered her a smile.
She relaxed a little. Knowing his name without the lawman title attached made her feel a little more at ease. "Okay, Grover."
"Should I call you Beth? I will if you insist, but I happen to like Missy a whole lot on you. Fits you somehow." He winked at her, which compelled her to match his smile with one of her own.
"I don't mind you calling me Missy, if it pleases you, Grover."
"Good. One thing is settled at least." He moved the cloth to her breast. He spoke in a casual manner while cleaning each of her breasts with a gentleness she'd never felt from a man. "I'm thirty-three years old and I've never been married. Not that I haven't wanted to get hitched, but women are in short supply around here, and I admit I've been too yellow to get a mail-order bride from the east."
It surprised her to learn he'd never married. She figured him for a widower. "Surely you could have married someone around here, Grover. You have a pleasing look about you and no doubt earn a right smart living as town marshal."
He smiled
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