Blue Jeans and a Badge by Nina Bruhns Page A

he put his arm around her shoulder. His smile-crinkled eyes met hers, and she drank in the warmth and affection and innate goodness she saw in their depths.
    â€œAnytime, sweetheart,” he whispered, and kissed her temple. “Anytime.”
    Â 
    Philip found it difficult to concentrate on what the principal was telling him she’d dug up about the two Apache children who had run away from school so long ago. He had more immediate matters on his mind.
    Like how he was going to get through the day without kissing Luce again. That little taste he’d gotten in the parking lot was not nearly enough. But he’d promised not to do anything she didn’t want. And he meant to keep that promise. Next time, she’d have to ask him.
    He wanted to groan out loud. She’d never ask him.
    â€œHere are the records I was able to find,” the principal was saying as she handed him a thin, fragile-looking yellowed file. “It’s not much, I’m afraid. But it might give you a general direction to look in.”
    â€œCould we have copies?” he asked politely.
    â€œI’ve already had a set made,” she said, and gave him a small sheaf of photocopies held together with a paper clip. “Good luck with your investigation.”
    Back in the Jeep, it took about two minutes for him and Luce to read through them.
    â€œShe was right,” Luce said. “Not much to go on.”
    â€œLet’s try the library,” he suggested, and turned the Jeep toward Washington Street, taking the wheel again.
    â€œThe library?”
    â€œThat’s where the newspaper archives are kept. There must have been articles written about this. Maybe there’ll be pictures of the canyon.”
    Two hours later, Philip’s eyes hurt from squinting at microfiches and his stomach was grumbling from hunger. They’d found three articles and one indistinct photo of the general vicinity of where the canyon was located, but looking for the actual place would be like trying to find a golden needle in a haystack.
    â€œLet’s get some lunch,” he said, “then take a drive out to Abiquiu and have a look.”
    â€œAll right,” Luce said, and gathered her things.
    She’d been quiet since his bold declaration of desire, which worried Philip a little. He’d rather have her angry and sassy than quiet and thinking too much.
    Why was she putting so much importance on this decision of whether to sleep together or not? Hell, it was just sex.
    For some women that might be a problem, but with Luce’s lifestyle and self-proclaimed aversion to commitment, he didn’t think it was the sex per se she objected to. She hadn’t acted like an offended virgin. It was sex with him she objected to. Which was weird, because she really seemed to like him. Lord knew, she definitely liked to kiss him.
    Surely she wasn’t actually worried about developing feelings for him?
    Inwardly, he scoffed. Doubtful.
    If anyone should worry about feelings growing where they shouldn’t, it was him. He had a bad history of that sort of thing. The last woman he’d fallen for had really put him through the ringer. Though she’d told him all along he was rushing matters, he hadn’t listened. More’s the pity.
    You always heard about men having commitment phobias. But in his experience, women were even worse. Maybe it was his age, and all the ones interested in marriage already were, and those who weren’t, weren’t interested. He was the firstto admit that little catch-22 had served him well these past few years while commitment had been the last thing on his mind. But back when he’d been hurt, he’d been looking for someone he could spend his life with. And deep down, he knew he still was.
    But not with Luce Montgomery. No way. She was too much like that other woman. He knew the signs all too well. She had a gypsy soul and would never settle down. That much was