But she wasn’t as certain of her will to resist his magnetism or seduction skills he’d have honed over those years, unless she maintained her emotional distance. Her needy body required a stern talking to if only her brain would focus.
With his hand on the small of her back, a light, possessive gesture he didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned, he guided her up the walk and through the door. He hadn’t turned on the porch light, and part of her was grateful for the anonymity. Someone might be out and about on this nice evening, and despite the relative isolation of this place, she didn’t care for anyone to speculate. Her knees grew weak with a certain relief as she realized her daddy wouldn’t find out—either about her run-in with law enforcement, or her current situation with Reese.
She’d never been anywhere else in the house aside from the living area and the kitchen, not even the bathroom, but the changes wrought were remarkable. Off white paint hid the dark wallpaper, and with the new windows and maneuverable blinds, the place would be full of light in the day, yet private at night. She cast a glance at the window coverings and verified that privacy. The old stuffed furniture was gone, replaced by a sleek leather couch and matching chairs with the requisite mega screen television and accompanying electronics. The wall between the kitchen and dining area had been removed, and she spied modern cabinetry anchored by solid surface counter tops. The old wood floor now gleamed dully, obviously scraped and restored. Despite the style of the furniture, the place felt warm and welcoming, likely because of the number of family pictures scattered about and hung on the walls. A crocheted throw in reds was draped casually over one end of the couch.
“Have a seat, darlin’.”
She slipped off her shoes and noticed his nod of appreciation, before she crossed to take the chair furthest from any other seating. And closest to her purse. There was no one to call, but having her phone nearby was comforting. The leather seat felt cool beneath her exposed legs, and she barely avoided fruitlessly tugging her skirt down. He wasn’t going to make her feel uncomfortable or vulnerable—or at least no more than she already did. She wanted to get this over with.
“Want a drink before we get started?” His silky tone made her inner thighs clench and her thoughts veer into places she really didn’t want to go. She decided to address it.
“I’m fine. And just what are you referring to?”
Tossing his hat unerringly at a hook on the wall, Reese ran his hands through his shock of hair, and she blinked to tear her eyes away. It looked the way it would feel, soft and sleek in her hands. The sound of his belt jingling drew her back, and she watched as he stripped away his gun belt, his revolver held in his opposite hand.
Hanging the leather strap beside his hat, he made his way to a gun safe, and tucked his weapon inside before spinning the dial. “Rules. Service weapons have to be secured.”
She wondered if he was warning her or apologizing. Reese was always careful with guns. He had taken her target shooting a lifetime ago, and taught her safety. And there were those cursed memories again of a wonderful, nearly two years of her life. She’d been given a hopeful taste of the way it could have been, and then he had taken it all away.
“I’d appreciate an explanation. Of why I’m here.”
He sauntered past her toward the kitchen, and she focused her eyes on the floor, refusing to take even a glance at his fine ass. She heard glass tinkling dully, and a fridge door shutting, and then he was back, a tall bottle of beer in his hand. When he stopped to take a swig, she couldn’t look away from the figure he cut, head tipped back, strong throat working against the liquid flowing down it. She had the ridiculous wish to be the mouth of that bottle, pressed up against his lips, giving him sustenance.
Lowering the envied beer, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth in a purely masculine gesture, and slouched onto the other chair. He studied her in silence, and with great effort she didn’t fidget. This was an excellent interrogation technique, but she refused to be intimidated.
“Tell me why you’re avoiding me. And cutting me dead when you can’t avoid me.” Delivered with a decided snap, his comment made her start.
There was no point in denying it. Oh, she could give it a try and drag things out, but if she accommodated him maybe she could still make Sheridan, and the evening wouldn’t be a total loss. She did her best to ignore the fact she was alone in a relatively small room with the man who had once made her heart swell and her body sing.
“I suppose you could say we’ve both moved on, and seeing as we have nothing in common I’m not interested in chit-chat.”
Another laugh filled the room, shaking his shoulders and drawing her attention to their breadth, and her traitorous eyes took in his wide, muscled chest beneath the closely tailored uniform shirt, sending another stimulating message to her feminine parts. Damn.
“C’mon, darlin’, you can do better than that.”
“What? I don’t treat you any differently than any other … acquaintance.”
“Candace, I’m more than an acquaintance.”
Okay, he was pushing it, putting her in a position she wasn’t going to be slotted into. “Asked and answered, Sheriff. I told you. Moved on. Nothing in common.”
“Come here, darlin’.” He pointed to the floor directly in front of his indolent slouch, and set his beer down.
“I can hear you fine, Sheriff.”
“Right here.”
Silence ensued, and lengthened. Curiosity prickled at her and undermined her determination not to obey him. Obey. A curious word, and one that wasn’t in her vocabulary—except in certain circumstances. But she really wanted to escape this place, pick up her car and get to Sheridan. Away from Reece Murdoch who was reminding her of things better left in the past, and lose herself, forget with some form of entertainment. With a huff, she shoved up to her feet, and calmed enough to walk gracefully to stand where he bade her.
The way his features softened with approval, even as his eyes burned hotter, gave her pause and made her want to turn on her heel and run. It was awkward, standing in front of this man, so supremely male, and she fought to stay perfectly still, schooling her emotions.
“On your knees, darlin.’”
Her belly clenched in response as he literally spoke to that part of her craving mastery, and she very nearly acquiesced. But instead she gave him as haughty a stare as she could produce, channeling the Queen of England.
“Candace, do you really think I don’t know what you need? That I don’t know? Can’t read you?”
It was like standing on the high board over the deep end of the pool. The drop drew her just as her mind warned her not to jump. How in hell would he know what she needed? People changed. He’d walked out of her life without a backward glance, and she had no idea if he’d lived or died until he had come back all arrogant and confident to take on the position of Sheriff. The pain had been banked down, but never forgotten. That hurt and humiliation, all the terror and loss, rose up and poured forth. It transformed into pure nastiness as it emerged from her mouth.
“You want a blow job, Sheriff Murdoch? I believe I can accommodate you. Is this kind of like a bribe—paying a fine, as it were?”
Her strategy worked. He visibly recoiled, sensuous mouth setting hard, his green eyes narrowing. She had intuitively known how offended he would be by her reaction. She had counted on it, and made to go to her knees. He forestalled her with a hand against her hip—it burned like a brand, and she staggered back.
Rising to his feet, he pushed into her space, locking his eyes with hers, and against her better judgment she wished he would kiss her. Take her choice away so she could have him once again and put the blame on his shoulders.
“Pushed too hard, too fast, Candace. That wall you’ve built is taller and thicker than I realized. What’s made you so hard, darlin’?”
As if he didn’t know. But if he really didn’t, if he had no idea of what his leaving had done to her, she wasn’t going to enlighten him. “I’m
okay with who I am.”
Studying her for another agonizing moment in time, he then shrugged and stepped around her to retrieve her overnight bag. “I’ll show you your room.”
“What?” After she got miles away from this infuriating man she was going to purge that word from her vocabulary.
“Under arrest, Candace. This’ll be better than a holding cell.”
“I’d be out of that cell with one phone call, Sheriff, and you well know it.” She didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, but it was spiraling out of her control.
“Well, girl, that might be true, but I thought I’d spare you dealing with your father.”
God. He was stooping to blackmail now. She weighed out the two options, if he was even giving her the choice, and thought that for her emotional wellbeing it would be worth calling her daddy. But Reece forestalled her.
“No deal, darlin’. I’m the law here.” The humor underlying his edict did not sit well, and she railed inwardly, feeling powerless, seeing her time in Sheridan slip away. Because what he’d awoken in her was simmering to a boil, and no way was she going to let him find out.
With a wistful glance toward the front door, feet dragging, she trudged after him, into a small room furnished with a double bed, a single nightstand and a tall chest of drawers. A handmade ring quilt covered the bed, and the deep colors warmed the room. Reece flicked on the small lamp on the stand, and gestured to a door on the opposite wall.
“There’s a bathroom there.”
With an exasperated sigh, she said, “How do you expect to get away with keeping me here against my will?”
“Candace, I impounded your vehicle because I picked you up for speeding. For the third time. You can’t get out of that. But I brought you here so we can talk, uninterrupted, and honestly. You aren’t interested in complying tonight, so we’ll try again tomorrow.”
“And when I tell people what you’ve done?”
He shrugged. “If you do I guess I’ll deal with it, but I’m betting you won’t.”
He was right. Her daddy would probably kick his ass, figuratively, and cost him his job, but people would talk and treat her like—she didn’t want to be that girl again.
“No, darlin’, this isn’t about creating any issues for you.” He was reading her like an open book. “I’m thinking we’ll address whatever is holding things up between us and get it resolved.”
He could fucking well think again. “There is nothing to resolve. I want my things and a ride to my car.”
Tossing her bag on the bed, he moved to the door, passing close enough she could feel the heat emanating from his body.
“I’ll be up for a while if you want to join me. Talk things out. Sure you don’t want anything?”
“Just what I told you.”
“G’night, darlin’.” The door shut quietly behind him, and she resisted the urge to throw something at it.
Her first inclination was to change into the items in her suitcase and climb out the window, walk into town and retrieve her car. Her purse was in the other room with all her identification and cards, her phone, but she had a spare key for the Bimmer in the shop, and a key to the shop hidden in the alley. The plan appealed more and more as she thought it through, and she hustled over to her case, zipping it open and fumbling through the contents.
Kicking off her shoes, she shimmied off her skirt, then donned the jeans she retrieved. The camisole followed, and she reveled in the soothing warmth of the heavier shirt she drew over her head, despite the lack of a bra. A knock on the door froze her in place as she reached for her flats, and Reece poked his head in, eyes lazily sweeping over her altered appearance.
“You leave here and try to hike downtown, Candace, I’ll fetch you back and turn your sweet ass red. And not in a good way.”
Electing not to respond, she gave him her back, and stepped into her shoes. She gathered up the discarded items and carefully placed them in her case, giving the task far more effort than required. Foiled, she considered her options. She could try to outwait him, or have that discussion he was insisting on, and hold the line. Reece hadn’t left the doorway after his edict, and she could feel him there, aware he was staring at her, waiting.
Suitcase packed, she turned to face him. “I’ll hear you out, Sheriff. But only because I want to leave here.”
His features impassive, he nodded and stood aside, gesturing her toward the living area. Candy steeled herself and walked past him, so very aware of his heat and proximity.
Chapter Three
Watching Candace’s shapely body as she stalked toward the same chair, Reece decided it was time. Time to cut to the chase and put all of his cards on the table. What was the worst thing that could happen? He’d spent time getting settled into the job, establishing himself and finding out everything about Candace that he could after she’d put him in his place that day in her shop. Watched her continue to make a place for herself in Barrister while remaining aloof and separate, most likely still as alone as ever, and lonely. She’d only ever had Sinclair Renton to call friend, and Sinclair had been away at school for years. Despite how she pretended he no longer existed, Reece hurt for Candace. She’d changed, but some things remained the same.
Buying a little more time, he went into the kitchen and picked out another beer for himself and a Cherry Coke for her. The surprise on her face was quickly wiped away, as he set it down with a smile. He’d forgotten nothing about her.
Taking his own seat, he took a swig and put the bottle down. When she finally met his gaze, he spoke. “I came back to Barrister for you.”
Blue eyes suddenly appearing too big for her face, Candace paled and flinched back. A tiny shake of her head appeared to be her only response.
“Put my time in, came home. It was never my career choice, but served me well, got me this job. But I was coming anyhow, if just to find out why you reacted the way you did. Knew you never married, weren’t serious about anyone people could tell, so I figured—”
Her thin response was like a slice of pain, and he wasn’t sure who it cut deeper. “You arrogant prick.”
She jumped to her feet, and all of that cool, aloof demeanor fell away. Fists clenching, she spoke further through gritted teeth. “You kept tabs on me? Thought I was so hard up you’d waltz back in and pick up where you left off? You get updates about this…” Gesturing at her body, she tossed her head, and her hair mussed further. His body responded to her obvious fury, a major turn-on.
Visibly swallowing, she then took a breath, so deep her breasts heaved. Despite the less revealing shirt she now wore, Reece couldn’t help but admire their roundness and obvious heft as they moved freely beneath the material. But he was quickly distracted by her continuing tirade. Her words packed a solid punch to his gut. The pain and anger unleashed then flayed him.
“And if I’d let myself go? Eaten myself into oblivion? Wasn’t the same naïve girl you fucked and so kindly relieved of her virginity? What then? Or would my daddy’s money make up for it?” Her full lips were set in a sneer, the ugly move belied by a faint tremble.
“Fuck me, Candace! I loved you. I told you why I had to go. Your daddy’s money has nothing to do with anything.”
Although it was a major factor seven years ago, if not in the way you think, darlin’.
Sinking back onto the chair, she stared at him and began the process of getting herself back under control. Her eyes shuttered, and she visibly slowed her breathing. He couldn’t allow that, and without another thought was in front of her, yanking her to her feet and tight against him. She gasped and struggled, but he took her lips with his own, and set about breaking down those defenses.
Soft and sweet as he remembered, Candace’s mouth flowered open under his determined, tender assault. He delved inside with his tongue, tracing along her own, and relished the way she fit in his arms, full breasts flattened against his chest, hair spilling down her back to wreath over his wrists. He worked one hand into the tangled mass of w
aves to anchor her head, and then stole her breath.
When her body was pliable and soft, he released her mouth and lifted his face from hers. That flawless, dewy skin was flushed with desire, lips swollen and pouting, and when her eyes fluttered open, long lashes drifting up and wide to reveal those dark, baby blues, he felt himself falling—deep. Like the first time he’d had her, finding a private place near the crick that ran through the hay meadows to ensure their privacy and protect her reputation. Taking that fancy duvet his mother chewed his ass over, to give Candace a soft, beautiful bed to lie on. He told himself, fiercely, that it wasn’t too late, that not too much time had passed. That she hadn’t shut him out. That he could forgive her rejection.
A single tear welled up and escaped the corner of her eye, falling free to catch in the hair at her temple.
“Darlin’? You okay?” Becoming aware Candace was trembling, he caught her up and swiveled to stride to the couch, sitting with her on his lap. His Candace didn’t cry that he remembered, hiding those emotions behind repartee and sarcasm, and she’d polished her skills over the years. So that single tear unmanned him, and he awkwardly ran his hands over her shoulders and upper arms before tucking her even closer. She curled in, but he could tell she was fighting her response, a certain tension filling her body.
He tried again. “Candace, you need to tell me what’s wrong.”
A shuddering sigh left her, and she sat up, trying to pull away.
“Nope. You aren’t going anyplace but right here. I’m not giving you a chance to hide behind that shell you’ve perfected.”
Using her fingertips to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind one ear, she studied him. They were so close he could see the flecks of gold starring the blue iris and each individual pale, shimmering eyebrow. He was still in deep, and as much as he longed to let his body do the talking, he knew women, particularly this woman, needed more. So he held her gently and waited.
Fated Page 3