Bullets & Bonfires

by Autumn Jones Lake

  Terror that Chad somehow wormed his way out of jail, grips me. Whipping my head around, my frantic gaze searches the bar. Through the throng of writhing bodies, no one stands out.

  Cold ice knots in my stomach, even if I can’t see Chad. I don’t want to put Emily’s friend in danger. Chad always swore he’d kill any man who touched me.

  It was one of his favorite threats.

  A familiar scent envelopes me right before a rough voice intrudes. “Excuse us.”

  My heart jumps and a relieved breath bursts out of me as I turn around. “Liam.”

  Shane taps my shoulder. “You all right with this guy?”

  The corners of my mouth twitch. Liam’s busy glowering at Shane. “Yes. Liam, this is Emily’s friend, Shane. Shane this is my boyfriend, Liam.”

  They go through the firm-grip, male handshake process and Liam acts civil enough, but as soon as Shane leaves, Liam’s intense gaze shifts my way. There’s no anger though. Only heat and a glimmering possessiveness.

  “You’re here.” My breathy voice barely carries above the music.

  He clamps his hands over my hips and pulls me against him. “I’m here.”

  In the heels, it’s easier to loop my arms around his neck and give him a quick kiss. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

  He responds by holding me even tighter.

  There’s no denying that the way he places his hands on me is his way of informing everyone I’m taken.

  After a long day, I stopped by my apartment for something dressier than what I had stashed at Vince’s house.

  I enjoy dancing about as much as a good, swift punch to the balls, but I find for Brianna, I’ll do just about anything.

  Instant, primitive possessiveness flowed through me the second I spotted my girl on the dance floor.

  With another guy.

  And more guys checking her out that she seems oblivious to. Of course she attracts a lot of attention, she’s the most beautiful girl in the room.

  The way Shane stared at Bree made me want to punch the smug smile right off his face. Somehow, I hung on to the urge by sheer will.

  No matter how much I don’t enjoy random guys panting after her, I’m not about to act like a jealous dick after the stuff Bree confided in me about her ex. I trust her and that’s all that matters.

  “I’ve been thinking about you too,” I admit. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her close and we start moving to the music together. “Missed you.”

  “Missed you too.”

  “So, Emily’s friend?” I work hard to keep my tone neutral.

  A slight smirk turns the corners of her mouth up and she arches a brow. “Yes?”

  “So much for girls’ night out.”

  She rolls her eyes and pokes me in the chest. “For a guy who hates to dance, you’re awfully good at it,” she teases, ignoring my comment.

  “Anything to keep that smile on your face.”

  She responds by pulling me closer and kissing me softly. “Will you take me home, Liam?” she asks against my lips.

  Fuck, yes. I’m ready to toss her over my shoulder and storm out of the bar with her. “I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

  She ducks her head and peeks at me through her lashes. “I want to be alone with you.” The husky tone of her voice is a jolt of arousal straight to my groin.

  My brain-to-mouth function has trouble forming an intelligent response. “Sounds good.”

  She gives me another sweet smile and a kiss on my cheek. “Let me say goodbye to Emily and Aubrey.”

  I examine the crowd again. People haven’t stopped coming in the front door since I arrived. I’m off the clock, but can’t help noticing the place is probably over capacity. I doubt the fire marshal’s going to bother coming down here, though. “Do either of them need a ride?” I ask.

  “Yes, but not the kind you’re offering.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” she shouts, snaking through the crowd to the bar.

  I don’t want to lose sight of her. Her sparkling white tank top and gold shorts stand out, but I still follow.

  When she realizes I’m behind her, she slips her hand into mine. The way she smiles up at me ties me up in knots. Why did I ever try to deny my feelings for this woman?

  Vince. Fuck. I really need to call him.

  Bree’s elbow pokes me in the side and I realize she’s trying to introduce me to Emily. “Do you need a ride home?” I ask the energetic redhead.

  “Nope. My posse’s here with me. Figured this one would ditch out as soon as you showed up,” she laments, nodding at Bree.

  So, Bree’s telling her friends about us too? I like that. A lot.

  Restless and eager to have Bree all to myself, I grip her hand and lead her to the door. She stays tucked behind me while I push our way through the crowd.

  “Did you have a good time?” I ask when we step out of the stifling club.

  “I did.” She pulls her hair into a pile on top of her head and fans herself with her hand. The movement arches her back, pressing her breasts against her flimsy, sparkling top. The erection I was sporting in the club comes back with a vengeance.

  Her head tilts. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re hot.”

  “I know. It was gross in there. I have sweat running down places I don’t want to think about.”

  I groan at the visual that gives me, and her eyes widen. “Sorry, too much?”

  She doesn’t get it.

  I take her hand and hustle her into the shadows by my truck. Using my body, I press her against the side. “All I can think about is getting sweaty with you now.” Her hand’s still in mine, and I guide it to the bulge in my pants.

  Her mouth falls open, but before she says anything, I take a long, possessive kiss. My hands sweep her hair off her shoulders and I bend down to kiss her neck.

  Under my passionate attack, she melts into me. Low, husky moans fall from her lips.

  My hands drop to her legs, tracing my fingers against her smooth skin, to the edge of her shorts. I grip her ass and deepen our kiss. Her hold shifts from my shoulders to my belt and, fuck, do I want to strip her down and bury my cock in her right this second.

  I’ve never wanted anyone so much I was willing to risk a public lewdness charge before.

  She draws back and our eyes lock. “Let’s go home before we get arrested, Deputy Hollister. I don’t want you getting in trouble.” She gives me a flirty wink.

  “It’d be worth it.”

  Once we’re in the truck—with the air conditioning on full-blast—I ask Bree about her night.

  “It was fun. But you’re right about that place. Can’t say I want to go back any time soon. I like Emily a lot. Aubrey too. She’s the one I met in Sully’s class. I think she has a crush on him. Although, I saw her talking to some older guy tonight and it looked intense.”

  Warm contentment fills my chest as I listen to her describe her evening. What the hell am I going to do without her when she goes back to school at the end of the summer?

  “Should I let Sully know he has an admirer?” I ask.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  She’s quiet for a minute. “Were you mad at me?”

  “Bree, I came damn close to fucking you in the parking lot. How can you ask that?”

  A soft huff of laughter eases out of her. “You looked angry when I was dancing with Shane.”

  My hands tighten on the steering wheel, and I sigh.

  “I didn’t like it. But no, I wasn’t mad at you,” I answer after slipping the truck into park and shutting the engine off. The headlights stay on so I can search the front yard for any movement. After a few seconds, I shut the lights off and turn to face her.

  She leans across the seat and feathers a kiss over my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Stay there.” I round the truck, open her door and lift her up.

  “You can’t carry me all the way into the house.”

  “Don’t be ri
diculous.” I squeeze her ass. She hitches her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. “I don’t want your heels sinking into the grass and getting dirty,” I explain.

  “You’re so sweet.”

  “Not really. I want you to leave them on when I fuck you,” I murmur against her ear.

  She gasps and throws her head back. Her laughter echoes through the still night. At the bottom of the front porch steps, I set her down and she hurries up the steps.

  “Why’re you running, baby girl?” I growl, grabbing her around the waist and bear-hugging her.

  “You know why,” she rasps, leaning her head back so I can kiss her again.

  I take the key out of her hand and stare at her for a minute. A slight summer breeze picks up strands of her hair, moving them around her shoulders and across her face. I reach out and tuck a few loose pieces behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You don’t think it’s too short?” She shakes her head back and forth, letting the ends brush over her bare shoulders.

  “Not at all.” I lean in closer. “It’s sexy as hell.”

  “Mmm, let’s go inside,” she says, taking my hand. “I have plans for you.”

  Inside the house, Liam turns and places his hands on my cheeks, tilting my head back so he can kiss me. I fall back against the door and he follows.

  My fingers tug and pull at his crisp white shirt, revealing his tight, flat stomach with the trail of dark hair disappearing into the waistband of his gray dress pants.

  “How is it that you’re sexier every time I look at you?”

  He presses more kisses to my cheek and down to my neck. “Thank you.”

  “Did you dress up for me?” I ask as I undo the buttons of his shirt.

  “Yes.” His answer ends in a groan as I lean in and place a kiss on his chest. The frantic beating of his heart beneath my lips says he wants me too.

  Being so close, absorbing his woodsy, spicy scent, stirs my hormones. Tipping my head back, I meet his dark gaze.

  “Brianna.” The aching whisper speaks volumes.

  Kimber nudges us with her cold, wet nose, reminding us of her presence. “Sorry, girl. You need to go out?” Liam asks.

  Something about my big, hard sheriff speaking so gently to a dog is so sweet, I press my hand to my chest.

  A loud thump against the front door startles me into Liam’s arms. “What the hell was that?”

  His face turns to stone and he pulls a small pistol from his waistband.

  “You were carrying that all night?” I ask.

  “Yes.” His voice comes out clipped and harsh. “Stay here.”

  I step to the side, ready to hide in the closet. My legs shake as I hold the door open for Liam.

  “What the hell?” he mutters, stepping onto the porch.

  Kimber snarls and lets out a thunderous bark. “Holy shit. Calm down, girl.”

  Ignoring me, she squeezes out the front door. “Kimber, no!” I call, running after her.

  “Kimber, come!” Liam shouts, but she keeps moving, leaping off the porch and landing in the front yard.

  “Fuck!” Liam runs down the front steps.

  Even though she’s limping, Kimber rounds the house, running into the dark, pursuing hell only knows what.

  I take a step forward and my shoe lands on something squishy. I glance down. “Eww.” My stomach lurches when I realize what the thump against the front door must have been.

  A dead bird.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Between the bird and Kimber reinjuring herself, Bree hasn’t stopped shaking.

  “I’m so sorry, Keegan,” she says for the third time.

  “It’s not your fault, Bree. She was doing her job. Protecting you.”

  Kimber’s at his feet, panting hard. I had to carry her back from the woods with no idea what she’d been chasing. We’re waiting for a call back from the emergency vet.

  “Who would do that?” Bree asks, gesturing toward the front porch.

  Keegan catches my eye. “Probably just a sick bird that got confused and flew into the door,” he says.

  Bree’s eyes widen. “Oh.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think of that.” Her gaze swings to me. “You think that’s what it was?”

  No, I think Chad’s in some way responsible, but no way am I saying that to her. “Could be.”

  Keegan’s phone rings and he steps away to take the call. “Hey, Dr. Fischer, thanks for calling me back.”

  “Are you all right?” I ask Bree.

  “No. I’m upset about Kimber.” She lifts her foot and wiggles it. “And that I have bird goo on my going-out shoes.”

  Deep, rumbling laughter rolls out of me. I love her resilience. Only Bree could make a joke about bird guts on her shoes with a smile after such a weird night. Hooking an arm around her waist, I pull her toward me and press a kiss to her lips. “I love you,” I whisper against her mouth.

  Her eyes widen and her body melts against mine. “Love you too. You scared me when you took off.”

  “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.”

  “Hey,” Keegan calls out. “I’m going to run her into the emergency clinic. The doc who’s doing her surgery is on call there and she’s coming in.”

  “Do you want us to go with you?” Bree asks.

  “Nah. It’s going to be a lot of waiting around.”

  Releasing Bree, I help Keegan lift Kimber into the back seat of his truck. “You going to be able to get her out on your own?” I ask.

  “Yeah, someone there will help.” He lifts his chin at me. “I’ll text you.”

  Taking Bree’s hand, I lead her into the house. She follows me around as I turn on the lamps and check every window and door lock.

  Uneasy, I’d rather take her to my apartment, but I don’t want to scare her. She seems exhausted anyway. Tomorrow we’re headed to my place.

  After she goes to sleep, I call Brady to come over and help me search around the house.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Brady and Sully show up to help me search the woods behind Vince’s place. Sully stays close to the house while Brady and I check out the woods. On the other side, there’s a parking lot for people to stop and explore the nature trails. We find fresh tire tracks. Judging by the size and tread, they belong to a truck.

  I researched everything I could on the Joseph family. No one owns a truck.

  Not that it means much.

  Frustrated and annoyed, I finally fall asleep as the sun’s coming up, glad I have today off.

  Bree’s watching me when I wake a few hours later. Wearing an anxious expression, she questions me almost immediately. “Where were you last night?”

  Shit. I thought for sure, she’d been asleep.

  “A few buddies came over and helped me search the yard.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Nothing useful.”

  She tucks her bottom lip under her teeth. I’ll do anything to ease her anxiety today and make her forget the way last night ended. “Come on, I have the day off and want to spend it with you.”

  “Have you heard from Keegan?”

  “He texted me last night. Kimber’s okay. They numbed her up and they’re transferring her to the regular vet today.”

  “I feel so bad.”

  “I do too. She has to stay there for a couple days, but he said we can go visit her in a day or two.”

  I have to drag her out of bed—who thought that would ever happen? We make a quick stop at the grocery store, where Bree raises an eyebrow at my purchases.

  “So, are you planning to explain all the watermelons?” Bree asks as we leave the store.

  “You’ll see.”

  The humidity’s already thick in the air this morning. Instead of the air conditioner, she chooses to roll the window down, pointing her face toward the breeze. Her hair swirls around her for a few seconds before she pulls it into a ponytail. Already, she seems more relaxed.

  The temperature
cools a couple degrees the higher up the mountain we go.

  “You’re sure your parents don’t mind us up there when they’re not home?” she asks as we approach their driveway.

  “I promised them I’d check on the house while they were away this weekend.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Today I plan to familiarize Bree with handling a few more guns. Mostly long arms. I even tucked her brother’s old shotgun behind my seat so she can learn to use it.

  After a quick look around the house, Bree follows me to the shed where my dad keeps targets and other supplies. Together, we set up a series of spinning targets. They’re all orange and shaped like various woodland creatures.

  “This woodchuck looks rabid,” Bree says, flicking her hand against it and watching it spin. “Is that so I won’t feel bad about shooting it?”

  I chuckle and kiss her cheek. “Probably.”

  “Can you staple the paper targets to the plywood there?” I ask, pointing to the spot.

  While she wields the staple gun, I run inside. It feels weird invading my father’s gun safe when he’s not home, but I told him I planned to do this today and he encouraged it.

  I return with a Ruger 10/22 rifle and my mother’s .243 deer rifle, so Bree can get comfortable shooting something with a little more recoil.

  “You know,” she says as I line the weapons up on the bench. A glint of mischief makes her eyes sparkle and she leans in close, lowering her voice to a hypnotic purr. “Freud said men with a compulsion to own firearms were compensating for small penises.”

  Fuck, do I love her. I do my best to hold in my laughter, leaning down to touch my forehead to hers. “Well, it’s a good thing you know that theory is false.”

  Pink spreads over her cheeks.

  “Besides, aren’t his theories considered archaic and obsolete now?”

  She raises an eyebrow. Guess she thought I wasn’t listening when she was telling me about some of her classes. “That’s true, although even I admit his take on memories and defense mechanisms still have some relevance.”

  “I’ll let you measure me later. Now, we shoot.”

  Jerking her chin at the long arms I have laid out on the table, she comments, “Those guns are much bigger than last time.” She throws her hand up. “Just an observation. Not a penis joke. I swear.”