FLOWERS and CAGES by Mary J. Williams Read Free Book Online

Twenty…?"
    "Nine."
    Colleen gasped. "Decrepit."
    "Thirty is old man territory for a rocker."
    Slowly, she circled Dalton, checking him out. What she saw was so far from an old man it wasn't funny. His long legs nicely filled out the faded denim of his jeans. Add a trim waist. A flat stomach. And those arms. Dalton's t-shirt wasn't tight in a look at my amazing body kind of way. However, the sleeves circled his biceps, emphasizing the size and shape.
    Old ? Hardly. There wasn't a man alive—at any age—that would balk at trading bodies with Dalton Shaw.
    "You're practically falling apart in front of my eyes."
    Because she couldn't resist, Colleen rested her hand on Dalton's upper arm. She didn't squeeze. It was more of a pet. Nice kitty . Meeting his gaze. Oh , my . Colleen swallowed. More like a big, dangerous, full-grown panther.
    "Like what you see?" Dalton purred.
    "Yes." What was the point of lying? Dalton knew when a woman was interested.
    "We could skip the date."
    "Food or sex?" Colleen licked her lips, drawing Dalton's attention.
    "That's right."
    Dropping her hand, Colleen stepped back. It wasn't easy, but it seemed like the right move.
    "Food?" Dalton asked with a sigh of regret.
    It was the glint of good humor in his eyes that almost changed Colleen's mind. If he had pushed his advantage, the evening would have ended quickly. Most likely with Dalton in the hall clutching his balls. The fact that he wanted her but was willing to let her set the pace? If she were so inclined, Colleen would already be half in love.
    "It is chicken fried steak night at The Sidewinder ."
    " The Sidewinder? I don't remember it."
    "Have you been to Midas before?
    Dalton waited while Colleen picked up her purse and set the lock on the door. Holding out his arm, he nodded.
    "We had a gig here about seven years ago."
    "I—" Colleen stopped in her tracks.
    "You…?" Dalton's face didn't betray any emotion.
    "I spent that summer in Phoenix taking classes. By the time I got back, you were gone."
    "Up the river." Dalton patted her hand. "In the big house?"
    "I think you were standing trial."
    "Ah, yes," he nodded. "Good times."
    "Sarcasm or bitterness? Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference."
    Dalton stopped beside the T-Bird. To Colleen's surprise, he burst out laughing.
    "That was a joke?" When she nodded, Dalton threw his head back and laughed again—harder and longer.
    "That was my first attempt at prison humor." Colleen figured she might as well push her luck. "Are all ex-cons so jovial about the subject?"
    Wiping the moisture from his eyes, Dalton let out a sigh.
    "Hell if I know. But I wouldn't test the theory. I met some mean bastards in the pen. They hit first. Gender doesn't matter."
    "I knew a guy like that. Gender did matter. He gave a new meaning to women and children first."
    That drove the smile off Dalton's face. Carefully, he cupped Colleen's face in his hand, his thumb lightly caressing her cheekbone.
    "Has someone hit you?" Dalton's look was a breath-catching combination of tender and fierce.
    "No," Colleen reassured him, her hand gripping his wrist. "I had a friend in high school. Her father knocked her mother. And her sister. And her. Then she picked a boyfriend with the same habit."
    "What happened to her?"
    "She married the bastard and moved to Albuquerque. Last I heard she had two daughters. In a perfect world, her boyfriend changed when he became a husband and father."
    "The world isn't perfect."
    "No."
    Colleen felt a stinging at the back of her eyes. She wasn't going to cry, but it became a close thing when Dalton gathered her near.
    "I don't hit women. I would never knowingly hurt a child. But, Colleen?" Dalton lifted his head, looking her directly in the eyes. "The crime I stood trial for? I was guilty."
    Colleen waited for Dalton's revelation to change the way she felt, but it didn't happen. His arms comforted her. She felt protected—safe. She believed he had a dangerous streak. She didn't doubt his