Page 23 of Sin With Me

Wilder

Istretch out my fist, feeling the ache in my fingers from punching Wesley in the face after I’d already hit the drunken idiot from the bar.

Tonight might be a new record for how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into in recent years.

Admittedly, I shouldn’t have hit the bastard while he was in uniform, but he made my blood white-hot the moment he called Delilah a whore.

Fucker deserved it.

It’s one thing to retaliate against me, but he knew what he was doing by setting me off at that moment.

He wanted me to hit him.

Once they take my fingerprints and mugshot, Sheriff Wagner has me writing down my full statement since Wesley isn’t innocent in this either. Apparently, this is his third strike, so I’m not taking all the blame.

Still, considering what I did, I’m lucky the sheriff doesn’t make me rot in a cell all weekend. Perks of him knowing my family helps. My parents are charitable when it comes to police fundraisers and to small businesses in town. Our ranch andretreat attract tourists, which helps bring in a lot of business to the local shops.

Even in small towns, it comes down to politics and money.

I’ll see the judge on Monday, he’ll give me a fine, and then tell me what the charges will be. Sheriff Wagner warned me to bring a lawyer, so now I have to tell my dad so he can call the family attorney and make sure he shows up on time.

That’s going to be super fun.

Wesley could push for an assault and battery charge, but all they have to do is watch his body cam to know I’m telling the truth about his inappropriate name-calling.

The sheriff let it slip that their policy for field sobriety tests is to call for backup. And since he wasn’t even supposed to be on duty, he never called it in or followed protocol.

So if he’s smart, he won’t dig himself into a deeper grave, but Wesley’s proved he’s not.

Either way, I’m not worrying about that now when I have Delilah in my bed.

“I woulda been fine to drive you and go back home so I could sleep in my own room,” she mumbles when I tuck her underneath the covers.

With one eye open and the other fighting not to close, I snort at her delusion.

“But then we wouldn’t be able to talk about that kiss,” I taunt, sitting next to her.

Groaning, she buries her head in the pillow. “How about you tell me why you have beef with Wesley instead?”

I blow out a breath because I knew she’d eventually bring that up. “I slept with his wife.”

Her eyes pop open, as does her mouth. “Jesus Christ. Why’d you do that?”

“I didn’t know she was married!” I throw my arm up. “She’s not from here and wasn’t wearin’ a ring. Plus, it was like two years ago. Dude needs to let it go.”

She rolls her eyes. “Would you be able tolet it goif someone fucked your wife?”

I raise a brow at her question because did she not witness my response to someone calling her a horrible name? Or someone spilling beer on her? My reaction to someone sleeping with mywifewould be ten times worse.

The guy would be in a coma needing a machine to push air into his lungs.

“We’re not talkin’ about hypotheticals here. Wesley puts the blame on me instead of where it should be.” I smirk, then add, “Himself for not being able to properly please his woman.”

“Just when I thought you were gonna say somethin’ smart.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me I’m wrong. Wesley’s an arrogant douche and his wife pickin’ me to cheat on him knocked his ego six feet under. Trust me, if she had slept with some average Joe from a coffee shop, he wouldn’t be so pissed.”

“Wow…the humbleness just floats off you.”