Free Circle Eight Millennium: Lazarus by Beth Williamson Page B

to wash it down. He wasn’t the wine drinking type and if she was, perhaps she might want something different.
    Laz was certainly that. He was a man unused to emotional commitments and was stubborn as all hell. He also had treated her badly when he had been a boy. The truth was, he wasn’t a catch. Hell, he was held together with spit and duct tape most days.
    Self-doubt began to creep in. What if it was a fluke and was just the after effects of incredible sex that lasted for days afterward? That was possible, wasn’t it?
    He drove the now familiar path to the gun store and pulled in. Laz wasn’t nervous, but he sure as hell wasn’t as confident as he wanted to be. His life had been routine, predictable. Maybe even boring. Now it was upside down, all because of Beatrice.
    To be fair, he couldn’t blame her. He could have left her at any point to continue the investigation on his own. She had charmed him, pulled him back into the land of the living. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he was ready to stay there.
    The scent of fried chicken filled the car, distracting him from his mental meanderings. It was time to pick up his date, because there was no doubt about it. This was a date and the pond offered them privacy as well as a romantic setting.
    He got out of the car and walked to the door, surprised to find he was nervous. His gut did a little dance and his dick urged him to be as nice as possible. The memory of Bea’s body was the stuff of dreams.
    He raised his hand to knock when the door opened and Bea stood there with a tote bag, a blanket and other items sticking out. She wore a pair of cut-off shorts and a yellow T-shirt with what appeared to be a bikini top beneath it. Her spectacular breasts were literally staring him in the face. He licked his lips.
    “Hi.” She raised both brows. “If you’re done looking at my tits, can you let me out?”
    He snorted a laugh and stepped back. “I’m sorry. They, ah, are…”
    “Magnificent?” She laughed, an earnest one from her belly, not a little tinkling, girlie one. Bea did everything with gusto, which might be why he was drawn to her life force. She was vibrant.
    “Yes, they are.” He gestured with his arm to his car. “My chariot?”
    He helped her into the car like a true gentleman. As his mother had taught him to. She had liked Bea, to his knowledge, although after the incident at the pond, he was certain Bea had refused to come to the Circle Eight.
    Laz had a lot to make up for, and he hoped this was the first step forward. What happened after that was unknown, and a bit frightening. Laz was a ranger, however, and danger wasn’t anything to run from. He wasn’t about to give up before the real challenge began.
    The ride out to the Circle Eight was a comfortable silence. The moment was broken when Bea’s stomach growled. She laughed. And shrugged at him.
    “It’s your fault. That fried chicken smells like heaven. I didn’t have a snack because I was looking forward to the picnic.” She peered into the backseat. “What other culinary delights did you bring?”
    “Patience, grasshopper. You will know when we get there.” He kept his tone even, although he was anxious to get to the pond. To kiss her again. Taste her passion again.
    To live again.
    The sun hung low in the sky, its orange rays bouncing like diamonds on the surface of the water. The pond had changed somewhat but it remained the same in other ways. The trees had grown taller, the bushes fuller, but the small beach beckoned swimmers. A warm breeze greeted them as he pulled the car to a stop at the edge of the pond.
    She blinked against the brightness of the sun. “This is going to be good, right?”
    He took her hand and kissed the palm. “It’s going to be better than good.”
    A flash of something moved through her face, but it was gone in a moment. She smiled a bit too brightly and opened the door. “You’d better bring that food and eat when I do or you might not get