Page 7

Six

Colt

I ’ve been watching her for three hours.

From my truck across from Logan’s office, I’ve had a perfect line of sight. Watched her arrive this morning, pour coffee, add that oat milk she drinks. Watched her help Mrs. Patterson sort out her meds. Watched her laugh once, at something Logan said.

Now I’m tracking her afternoon rounds through binoculars. Totally normal sheriff behavior. Nothing psychotic about a little tactical observation of the woman you’re planning to marry.

“Jesus Christ, Colt.” A voice vibrates through the passenger window where my brother Cade’s stupid smiling face is staring at me.

He taps on the passenger window. I’m so distracted, I didn’t see his creeping ass sneaking up on me. I hit the button and roll the window down against my better judgment

“You stalking someone or casing the place?”

“Working,” I grunt.

“That what we’re calling it?” He slides into the passenger seat without asking. “The pretty nurse got you acting like a damn teenager.”

“Medical assistant.”

“Right. That makes this completely rational.” He steals my binoculars and peers toward Wildfire Home Health. “Which one is she again?”

I snatch them back. “Get out of my truck.”

“You’re fully gone,” Cade says, kicking his boots up on my dash like he’s staying. “You bringing her to Sunday brunch, or just gonna lurk until she files a restraining order?”

“Get your fucking dirty ass boots off my dash.” I reach over and shove his legs down.

It’s my brother Beau’s turn to host Sunday brunch this week, but the image of Emery at the kitchen table nearly knocks the breath out of me.

I picture her next to me, smiling at my brothers, nodding along like she belongs.

And she does. She would. She belongs next to me for the rest of my life.

“Haven’t asked her yet.”

Cade raises a brow. “Haven’t asked or haven’t worked up the balls?”

I give him a look that he should know. Brothers understand when they are about to get a right hook to the chin. Cade just grins like a dumbass.

“My money’s on balls. Speaking of which, how’s your ass? You gonna be able to sit through waffles on one cheek, or you healed up enough for full-seated syrup and moose jerky consumption?”

“I’m going to shoot you next.”

“Hard to be scary when your last bullet wound was self-inflicted to the backside.” He checks his watch. “Storm’s coming in tonight. Big one. Wrap up your stakeout before it floods the damn road.”

An hour later, I’m in my office, zero chill and zero focus as fat raindrops start to hit the window behind my desk. I stare out at darkening clouds wondering where she is.

Cade was right, like he always is about these things. I swear my brother has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to the fucking weather.

After I kicked him out of my truck, I had a little fucking conversation with myself. Told myself that she was fine, that Logan is a good guy and I don’t need to watch her every second of every day.

Yeah, fucking bullshit. All I’ve done since I got back to the office is pace, the stack of paperwork piling up on my desk not getting any smaller.

My phone buzzes, and I snatch it up like it’s an Olympic sport, knowing who’s on the other end without having to glance at the screen as I hit accept and slam it to my ear.

“This is Colt.”

Her voice is soft. “I know you said I didn’t have to come up today, but the weather’s turning and I got an order from the doctor he wants the wound checked one more time. I thought I should do it sooner rather than later.”

Every logical part of me says I should tell her no. Stay home. Stay safe. Stay the hell away before I do something I can’t take back.

I have to tell her about the fire. Who I am. But the thought of seeing that look on her face I know will come when she realizes I’m the one that didn’t save her best friend that night…

Fuck. I knock the side of my fist into my forehead, then swallow, staring at that damn flickering florescent light above my desk that still needs fixed.

This is not me. This is why I don’t get attached. So fucking complicated.

“The roads are already getting slick,” I choke out. “My ass is fine.”

There’s a beat of silence and I can almost see her cute smile, how she’s rolling her eyes.

“I won’t debate you on that.” She says. “But…” She snickers.

“Emery—”

“I’m already driving. I just turned on Hogback Trail.” She pauses for a beat. “Unless you are at the station? I could come there, I guess I should have asked…”

Of course she is. Of course she’s driving up a mountain in the middle of a storm to take care of me.

No fucking way do I want her coming here to look at my butt. I’ll never hear the end of it.

“Fine,” I snap. “But keep me on speaker the whole drive. Non-negotiable.”

“Colt, that’s not necessary.”

“Speakerphone, baby girl. Now.”

She sighs, and I hear the click. “Okay. So bossy.”

“Good. Talk to me while you drive.”

I bolt out of my office. Gertrude, the department’s eighty-year-old admin assistant, waves as I go by, not bothering to look up from her worn Harlequin novel with a bare-chested pirate on the cover and a woman with her tits basically falling out of her corset.

I push the button on the ignition, pulling out of my parking spot, maneuvering around slower traffic considering pulling out the single magnetic spinning light I have in my console and popping it on the roof of the truck.

Instead, I just ignore the speed limits, careful to get through town before I push the speedometer to ninety, only letting up when I see the flicker of her tail lights ahead.

Even the sight of her car makes my dick hard.

I pepper her with general questions and she asks me about being a Sheriff and my brothers. I ask about her family, she doesn’t give me much, but I pick up that her parents sound like assholes and that I need to meet her grandparents and thank them for helping her settle back in at Wildfire.

She doesn’t give up too much detail about what brought her back, but I let it go because truth is, I want to avoid any conversation that would force me to lie to her about who I am and what I already know.

Law enforcement allows you the privilege of doing some thorough background checks. She’s got some secrets of her own, but I want her to trust me enough to share them, in her own time. Once she does, I’ll know I’m doing something right for once.

“Colt? I think someone might be following me. There’s been a truck behind me for a while.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Pause. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I mean it’s me, baby girl.”

“You’re following me?”

“I’m escorting you. There’s a difference.”

“Like a good and proper stalker should.”

“What? You think I’d let you drive up a mountain in a storm by yourself? Not happening.”

“You could have just told me you were in town. I would have come to the station. I told you I would.”

“I like seeing you in my house. Besides, too many eyes and wagging tongues at the station. One thing most people don’t know about law enforcement, they love gossip almost as much as they love coffee.”

The soft snicker that comes through the speaker squeezes around my heart.

“Now, just pay attention, I’ll be right here.”

By the time she pulls into my driveway, the rain’s coming in sideways and the trees are bending like they’re ready to snap. I’m out of my truck and on her before she even kills the engine.

She bolts for the steps, but she’s soaked through before she even makes it halfway. I grab her around the waist and haul her under the overhang.

“Jesus, baby girl.” She’s trembling, jacket plastered to her body. “That got bad fast.”

I drag her inside, grab a towel from the hook, and wrap it around her shoulders. She’s shaking like a leaf, water dripping off her lashes. Her wet clothes cling to every soft curve, every inch of her that I’ve been trying so damn hard not to touch.

“You’re not driving back down tonight.” My dick clearly takes control, sick and tired of my cock blocking him from the one girl that’s put him on high alert in years.

Her head jerks up. “What?”

“Look outside. The road’ll be a washout within an hour.”

She stares at the window like she’s trying to find a reason to argue. Trees are bent horizontal. Rain’s smacking the glass hard enough to rattle it.

“I can’t stay here.” She shakes her head, her hair falling out of that crazy bun on top of her head, framing the face I want to decorate with my cum.

“Why not?”

“I just... I don’t have anything with me. No clothes, no—”

“I’ve got clothes. One bed, but I’ll take the couch.”

Her cheeks flush. “Colt—”

“Not a request, baby girl. You’re staying.”

Thunder crashes overhead, so loud she jumps.

“Hey.” I close the space between us, steadying her. “Just noise.”

“I know.” Her voice is soft. “Storms make me nervous.”

It’s more than that. I can see it in her eyes. In the way her arms are wrapped around herself, tight like she’s holding something in.

I don’t push.

“Come on. Let’s get you warm.”

I lead her to the couch and wrap her in about ten blankets then step over to stoke the fire. Outside, the storm whips up a frenzy matching the one she’s whipping up down in my crotch. Inside, she’s a soft bundle of limbs and wool, curled into my couch like she belongs there.

“Better?” I ask.

She nods, peeking out from under the blankets. “Thank you.”

Another solid clap of thunder cracks overhead, and she flinches again. This time, I don’t wait. I lower onto the couch next to her, tugging her into my chest, looping an arm across her middle, the other across her chest.

“I’ve got you,” I breathe with my lips near her ear. “You’re safe with Daddy.”

She sighs and sinks into me and the relief I feel in her body gives me a satisfaction I haven’t felt in so long.

When’s the last time I wanted to do this? Just sit here and let a woman feel safe just by being held, breathing the same air.

Never, if I’m being honest.