by Marika Ray
Oakley stepped closer, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. “No! I won’t give you time because I know you won’t use it. I already gave you a week to get your shit together and absolutely nothing’s changed.”
Nobody poked me in the chest, not even Oakley. I grabbed her hand and tugged until her body fell into me. She smelled like mint and beer, but sizzled like a firecracker. Her chest heaved against mine, her eyes dilating and lips parting. She felt the same pull I did. The one that said we belonged together. That we were perfect for each other.
I reached behind her head and tugged that ponytail, pulling her head back so her lips were served on a platter, just waiting for me to take them. And I did. I claimed her lips and plunged into her mouth without permission, tasting whatever had made her tipsy this afternoon. Her hands gripped my shirt, her body pliant under my hands. She made those same little noises in the back of her throat, like she couldn’t get enough of me. My dick was a steel pipe between us, wanting back inside her before we started arguing again.
My hand slipped under her sweatshirt and found her braless. I groaned, hips thrusting into her stomach blindly when I cupped her. Oakley lurched and gasped, shoving me back and catching me off guard.
I stepped back, in shock that my mouth was no longer on hers. My hand no longer held perfection. Oakley stared at me with red lips and wide eyes.
She held her finger out in warning. “Don’t you dare! You’re a dick-straction!”
I screwed my eyes shut and ground my molars to keep from grabbing her again like I wanted to. I didn’t know what the hell a dick-straction was, but I knew one thing: Oakley and I were not done. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Oakley.” I stepped forward, and she reared back. “Oakley, please.” It was now or never. I grabbed her hand and stroked my thumb across her knuckles. “I’m falling for you.”
The simple confession felt like the most vulnerable thing I’d ever done. How could she not see that I was trying? That I was having to confront things I’d thought long buried?
Oakley pulled her hand out of my grasp and stepped back to the open front door. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. I both felt and heard the thud of my heart hitting the ground.
“I think you should go.”
“Oakley—”
“No.” She looked at me then, the usual fire in her eyes dampened by resignation. “You don’t get to say that while keeping secrets from me and asking me to compromise my job and my integrity. You want me to give up everything dear to me, but you won’t do the same.” She gestured out the door. “Goodbye, Wyatt.”
I paused, desperately needing to salvage this somehow and knowing I couldn’t. She was right. I asked for everything while giving nothing. The very best thing I could do for her would be to walk away. I didn’t want her to compromise her morals or her job. Not yet. Not when I didn’t have my shit together.
I stepped through the doorway, turning on the plain brown welcome mat to see her eyes filled with tears.
“I’ll go, but we’re not done, Oakley. I promise you that.”
I spun on my heel and left, feeling like the world’s biggest ass for making her cry, but I also walked with a sense of purpose. I’d clean up the shit in my past and make things right. On my timetable. Oakley had no idea how much baggage was in my rearview mirror and how it would take some time to make things right. In the meantime, I’d still be able to work with Oakley, which gave me some relief. This wasn’t a breakup or a goodbye. This was a momentary pause. That’s it.
20
Oakley
* * *
I pulled on my shorts, finally feeling like a human after two naps, a dose of ibuprofen, and a gallon of water. I hadn’t been lying when I called in sick this morning. I’d woken to what felt like a sledgehammer keeping time on my skull. I’d have to have a chat with Prescott about the alcohol level in his weird beer. He’d been known to botch that up occasionally. Namely, the Jingle Ball this last Christmas when he’d provided refreshments that got the entire town drunk. That had been a fun night for law enforcement.
After Wyatt left last night, I’d dug out some rocky road ice cream and watched a movie as I let the tears flow. I told myself I’d take one night to feel sorry for myself, and then I’d get over it and move on. I had an exceptional career, great family, and had been just fine riding solo before Wyatt moved to town. Sure, having him as my partner at work would not be easy, but I’d keep an iron fist on my heart and keep everything super professional. Starting with the Shoots & Ladders softball game tonight.
I grabbed the glove I’d ordered, so I didn’t have to borrow a used one that had seen way too many questionable sweaty palms over the years. Mine was brown leather with pink laces. Normally I wouldn’t have ordered something with a feminine flair, but Wyatt had awakened that slumbering side of me. Before he went and broke my heart, of course. Now the glove and I were stuck.
I headed out on the Grom, refusing to look at Wyatt’s house and getting to the field in plenty of time to warm up. Tonight’s game was against the Auburn Hill police squad and firefighters. Dad was coaching, having retired from play last year when he took a line drive to his shin. He’d missed the ball because he couldn’t see over his expanding belly, a sure sign he was better suited for the coaching position.
I scanned the group to see if Wyatt was here. I told myself I didn’t care, but that didn’t stop my eyes from shifting left and right constantly. I didn’t see him yet, so I grabbed Charles, one of our newest deputies, to toss the ball with. He was so young he made me shake my head at how much he reminded me of Vee. So cocksure of himself when he was just a baby. But he had an arm on him and he didn’t give me shit when I dropped almost every ball he tossed my way. Not my fault the damn balls bounced right off my glove. Was it just not broken in yet? Did I buy a rubber glove accidentally?
“Can I give you a tip, Captain?” Charles asked kindly, not at all condescending, which made me nod.
He trotted over and grabbed my gloved hand, putting it above my head. “Okay, so hold it open and wait until you hear and feel the smack before closing. Like this.” He smacked my glove with his fist and then forced it closed.
I nodded and pulled my arm down, giving him a smile. “Yeah. I can do that. Thanks.”
“I’ll help Oakley warm up from here.” Wyatt’s stern voice came from right behind me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
I swallowed hard and tried to school my face. Charles nodded at Wyatt and ran off to find a new partner to warm up with. I stood as straight and tall as my short spine would allow me before spinning around. Time to show Wyatt that we were all business now. It would have helped if he hadn’t looked so good in athletic shorts and a T-shirt that clung to his biceps.
“We may be partners at work, but we can find other partners on the baseball field, Lieutenant,” I snapped at him.
Wyatt lifted an eyebrow. “Ah. I see you can pronounce it now. That’s good.”
I sniffed and walked straight to the dugout, thoroughly warmed up and not in the mood for his bullshit. In fact, I felt so hot I could singe the asshole for reminding me how tipsy I’d gotten yesterday. Wasn’t my finest hour having my father take me home from The T-Spot and I didn’t care for Wyatt reminding me.
“Hey, Dad!” I hollered over to my dad at the other dugout with a wave and a forced smile.
I’d show Wyatt his presence didn’t affect me at all. Dad winked at me before continuing his pep talk with his players. Sheriff Locke shouted for our team to huddle up while he gave us last-minute instructions. Basically, he wanted the guys to swing hard for the homers and for me to let the guys handle things. I folded my arms across my chest. What the hell? I could feel Wyatt looking at me, but I refused to see the pity I knew would be stamped across his face. I’d show these fuckers who could play ball.
The teams took to the field, our team being first at bat. Zion Yosemite, the new guy Dad recently hired, took the mound as pitcher for Hell Nation, as they called themse
lves. Our team was Deputy Dawgs which I hated with a passion. Clearly, no one had consulted me when choosing team names.
I was first at bat, probably because Sheriff thought I would be an easy out, and then they could pick up the slack with the sluggers behind me in the lineup. I did a few practice swings, the motion feeling more natural now that I’d attended a few practices. I stepped into the batter’s box and assumed the position.
“Whatcha got for me, Zion?” I called out to the pitcher.
He glanced around before looking back at me, probably confused as to why we were having a casual chat while I was supposed to be at bat. The way I figured it, I’d never hit a home run. The best I could hope for is to make friends with the pitcher so he’d feel sorry for me and give me some easy pitches. I could at least shoot for getting to first base.
“Hey, it’s Oakley, right?” He nodded to his catcher and stood up to start the first windup. It was slow-pitch softball. Not really sure how much windup was really necessary. But that was men and sports for you. So damn serious.
“Yep. Your boss’s daughter!” I answered brightly, reminding him to go easy on me without saying the words.
He stumbled a bit in the windup, but let the ball loose, the arc high and slow. I waited, then swung with all I had, rejoicing when I felt the bat zing in my hands. I threw the bat way behind me—I would not trip this time—and ran like I was chasing a suspect. My feet hit first base, and I nearly jumped for joy, seeing that I was safe.
“Let’s go, sis!” I heard Vee yell from the stands.
“Nicely done, Captain!” Charles shouted encouragement from the dugout.
I gave him a thumbs-up, my smile increasing when I saw Wyatt glaring at the poor kid. Wyatt batted behind me, getting another single and putting me on second. Blaze Hellman was the second baseman for Hell Nation.
“Hey, Oakley. You’re in fine form today.” He winked at me and I couldn’t help the blush. He was way too young for me, but when one of the five Hellman brothers winked, your lady bits fluttered. It was as scientific as gravity. The Hellman brothers, the legal ones, just had that way about them.
A growl to my left had me glancing over to first base. Wyatt looked ready to rip Blaze’s head off. I smiled the secret smile of every woman throughout time who enjoyed seeing a man jealous over attention paid to her by another. Served him right. I would have been Wyatt’s if he’d just gotten his shit together.
The crack of the bat had me running to third, but then the sheriff was there yelling at me to go back.
“What?” I yelled, my sprint slowing to a jog.
“Go back! They caught it!” His arms flailed wildly through the air.
I didn’t know what that meant, but I’d been trained to follow my commander’s lead. If he said go back, I’d go back. I spun around and started sprinting back to second base, but Blaze was right there in my path, catching the little white ball and looking at me like he was a tiger and I was the prey.
“Don’t do it, Hellman!” I yelled, trying to run around him.
He zigged, and I zagged. Then he zagged, and I tripped over my own feet, which weren’t used to zigging or zagging on the baseball field. Blaze caught me around the waist and kept me from falling to the dirt infield. His entire body shook with laughter as we spun around. I heard the umpire call me out and I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. This game was so dumb. Why I ever let Wyatt talk me into signing up was beyond me.
“You’re a good sport, Oakley,” Blaze said as we stood straight and he set me away from his surprisingly muscled body.
He was barely eighteen, yet he boasted the kind of muscles you’d see on a college football player. He patted me on the back and went back to his position. I gave him a grin and ran off the field, ignoring the lasers Wyatt was shooting at the side of my head. I could feel him, all right. Anyone with half a brain cell could feel the anger pouring off him right now.
“Nice try, Lee,” Sheriff Locke barked before turning his attention to the next batter.
We ended up winning 6-5 after ten innings. The stragglers in the stands all stood to head home, most of them spouses or family of the players. I went over to hug Dad, got a slap on the back from Blaze and two other guys.
Zion pulled me aside, scratching the side of his head where the hair was starting to come in gray. “Hey, I didn’t mean to strike you out that last at-bat.”
I put a hand on his arm. “Don’t feel bad. I was just hoping the game would be over soon.” I shrugged. “I’m hungry.”
Zion barked a laugh, and I noticed he was handsome in an older, midlife kind of way. Vee came up to my side and threaded her arm through mine.
“Nice game, sister of mine. Hello, Zion. Nice to see you again.” She shot him a smile I knew from experience was her flirting smile.
I rolled my eyes and tugged her away from the man who was way too old for her or me.
And bumped right into Wyatt’s broad chest.
“Wyatt!” Vee jumped, letting go of my arm and hugging the guy who was currently glaring at me.
He hugged her back, but didn’t take his heated gaze from mine. When Vee stepped away, he leaned down in my face to whisper, “Really, Oakley? Flirting with Zion now?”
A flash of anger hit me so hard I thought I might shoot lightning bolts through my fingertips. How dare he think he had a say in who I talked to or flirted with or even dated? He had his chance and threw it away!
I took a step closer to him, my eyes narrowed, and my vision gone hazy red. “I can flirt with whoever I want, Lieutenant, and don’t you forget it.”
He didn’t back down. His nostrils flared, and he stood toe to toe with me, ignoring Vee completely. “He wears his hot sauce in a holster on his belt, Captain.”
Okay, yeah, that was weird. I’d noticed it before, but this was Auburn Hill. Weird was how things were done.
I lifted my nose in the air, delighted when his gaze shifted to my lips. “I happen to like hot sauce. The hotter the better. You just never know when the taco truck is going to come around, you know?”
“Wow. Okay. I think I might orgasm just watching you two.” Vee shoved her hands between us, making us both step back.
I blinked, realizing we were still out in public where anyone could watch us. And my baby sister just had a front-row seat to our pissing match. Jesus. My control was already slipping.
“We’re heading over to get pizza and beer. You coming, Oakley?” Dad walked up, putting his hand on my shoulder, thankfully oblivious to the tension between Wyatt and me.
I smiled at him, shifting gears as quickly as I could. “Nah. I’m suddenly in the mood for tacos.”
I shot a look at Wyatt, grabbed Vee, and walked off toward the parking lot. If I were a betting woman, I’d lay a hundred-dollar bill on Wyatt’s gaze being on my ass right now.
“Damn, Oak. That was some serious chemistry right there,” Vee started.
“Nope! I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to grub on some tacos with my little sister and enjoy the evening.”
Vee peeled off to go to her car while I got to my Grom. I took my time putting the helmet on, watching with horrified interest while Wyatt and my father walked across the parking lot together. What the hell could they be talking about? Of course, Wyatt’s truck was only two spaces away from mine. Everywhere I went, there he was.
When Wyatt stopped at his truck, Dad pulled him into an awkward hug. My mouth fell open. Wyatt froze, stiff as a board. Dad whacked him on the back and stepped back, giving him a look I knew all too well. Oh shit. Dad was about to hand Wyatt his own ass whooping.
“Sometimes you gotta hug people so you know how big to dig the hole in the backyard,” Dad clucked out of the side of his mouth and walked away like a total badass.
Wyatt stared at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. I thought my chest might burst with pride and love for my father.
I snorted and gunned the engine of my Grom. Wyatt’s head whipped up and the last thing I saw befor
e zooming out of the parking lot dimmed my glow and haunted my brain for the rest of the night despite Vee’s attempts to make me laugh.
Big, bad Lieutenant Wyatt Smith.
Alone and sad.
21
Wyatt
* * *
I woke up bright and early, feeling groggy as hell. I wasn’t sleeping well, my dreams always centered around Oakley. She was either yelling at me or, conversely, standing in front of me naked, giving me that come-hither look. The dream always morphed and faded right before I touched her, leaving me frustrated and afraid that my dreams were a premonition of how real life would always be.
Watching men fawn all over Oakley last night at the Shoots & Ladders game had been another nightmare. Could I really just go on with my life being her partner at work, but watching her dating other men in her personal life? It was all too clear after last night that I was fooling myself into thinking we could just be friends. My feelings definitely went deeper than I’d been willing to accept.
Which meant I had some life cleanup to do. Immediately. The only chance I had of winning over Oakley meant I had to address some issues back home. For real this time. Oakley deserved a guy who had his shit together and for even a small shot at her affection, I was finally willing to try.
I threw on a collared shirt and slacks my mom would approve of and hit the road, getting to my parents’ gated community just after nine in the morning. I parked along the curved driveway, just outside the stairs leading into their house. Funny how the place you grew up could look so familiar and yet feel so foreign at the same time. I may have grown up in a mansion with a staff of five, but I’d truly loved living on my own dime for the last two years.
The doorbell echoed through the house as I waited on the other side of the ornate front doors. When the door finally swung open, a woman with her hair severely pulled back into a low bun answered the door. Her frown seemed etched into her face, a warning, perhaps, of her personality.