by Marika Ray
“Understood, sir. This actually isn’t about that.” Nothing he said could make me feel better about Oakley being wounded when I should have had her back. “It’s obvious my identity is now out there in the press. I don’t believe I can continue to keep my partner safe at the moment. The job has to be my entire focus, which is impossible with paparazzi following me.”
When I’d pulled into the parking lot of the station, a couple photographers had jumped out of their cars parked on the street and tried to get pictures of me in my truck. I knew from experience they could be relentless. Eventually things would die down and they’d forget about me for some other piece of gossip, but for now, I would be a detriment to the uniform.
Sheriff frowned.
“What I’m trying to say is that I’d like a transfer, sir.”
“Say what now?” he barked, leaning forward and clasping his huge hands on the desk.
“I’d like a transfer to another county, please.” There. I’d said it. I’d done what I should have done the second Oakley and I kissed. I’d known then, but hadn’t wanted to accept it. Oakley was it for me. And it was with a heavy dose of shame that I realized I should have done the right thing all along, like she’d suggested.
“Now why the hell would I do that?” Sheriff shouted. “You just handled a dangerous situation yesterday with flying colors. You subdued twelve known drug dealers after a territory disagreement went wrong. Did you know we recovered five pounds of cocaine and just over a ton of meth? That’s literally hundreds of people you saved from becoming addicted to an illegal substance. Now tell me again why I should even think of granting your request?”
Well, fuck. I hadn’t expected Sheriff Locke to fight to keep me. I figured Oakley would have already pleaded her case for why I should be reprimanded or fired. Most certainly transferred to another partner.
I rubbed my forehead and reflected on the one thing I told Emmeline I wouldn’t compromise on: absolute honesty.
“Well, sir. While she probably won’t speak to me again, I intend to devote a lot of my time for the foreseeable future trying to get Oakley to date me. And if she’s stupid enough to agree to that, I intend to marry her before she comes to her senses. So, working together would be a bit much, don’t you think?”
Sheriff flopped back in his chair, the frown leaving his face, but he still didn’t look happy. “Is this some sort of April Fool’s joke again? You two fight more than an old married couple.”
I shrugged, nodding at the truth. It was true. We’d spent more time teasing each other than speaking words of love, but that’s just how an alpha male and an alpha female came together.
Sheriff snorted. “Shit. That’s it right there, isn’t it? All that fighting was just sexual tension.”
Yeah, no. I didn’t want to talk about sexual tension with Sheriff Locke.
“Sir?” I quirked an eyebrow. “That transfer, please?”
He sat forward again and pinned me with a look that made my balls retreat. “I’ll grant you that transfer, but only because Lee’s left me fifteen messages already this morning asking for the same thing. You and her are good together, I can see that plain as day. But I tell you something, Smith. You hurt one hair on Lee’s head and I’ll personally remove your balls and string them up in the office to remind those young deputies not to mess with my officers. You got me?”
I swallowed hard and had to clear my throat to speak. “Yes, sir.”
“Now get the fuck out of my office while I figure out who to assign to Lee when she’s back on her feet.”
“Yes, sir. May I suggest Charles? He’s young, but he’s got his head screwed on straight, and he’s the only one around here who doesn’t seem to irritate Oakley.” If I couldn’t ride with her, I sure as hell didn’t want her riding solo again. Charles would treat her with the respect she deserved while making sure she stayed safe.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant.” He paused. “And for what it’s worth, I hope you find a way to get back in Lee’s good graces.”
I shot him a smile as I walked out of the office. That was as good of a compliment as Sheriff would ever give.
27
Wyatt
* * *
“She’s gonna cut off my balls and feed ’em to that sheepdog of hers.”
Em grimaced. “Okay, first. I’m your sister and don’t want to think about your balls. Second, Amelia seems like someone I’d get along with. I highly doubt she’d—oh, shit.”
Oh, shit was right. As I deliberated about the wisdom of pleading my case with Amelia parked outside her house, she must have spotted my truck first. Not hard when there were still remnants of a particularly untrue message spray-painted on the side. I could only guess that was Amelia’s handiwork. I’d heard about her penchant for tagging, though she’d stooped to new lows with this job. Funny thing was, I couldn’t blame her. I’d do the same if some guy messed with my sister.
Amelia came out the front door of Peacock B and B, her dress fluttering around her brown cowboy boots widely spaced on the front porch. Her gaze narrowed on mine through the windshield of my truck. She had a shotgun in one hand, and I didn’t for a second think she’d step outside to greet me like that unless it was loaded and ready to rip me a new one.
Em fluttered her hands for a second before grabbing my arm in a death grip. Damn, the girl had nails that would rival a honey badger. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
I ignored the engrained habit of reaching for my service weapon when faced with an armed opponent, especially since I wasn’t carrying it right now. I’d had to take the week off, as per Sheriff Locke’s instructions, and hopefully by the time I came back, I’d be headed to a new county. Besides, I’d needed the week to come up with a plan. Em and I had strategized like I was going to war, and in a sense, I was.
I was fighting for love, baby.
“It’s got to be done.” I pulled Em’s hands off me without drawing blood and climbed out of the truck.
I approached Amelia like one would a hurt brown bear cub. “Amelia.”
Her only reply was to lift the barrel of the shotgun a few inches.
I put my hands up the way I’d been taught when negotiating in a hostage situation. My black boots came to a hasty stop in the thick green grass leading up to the gorgeous new B and B. A pink flamingo caught my attention in my peripheral vision, but I couldn’t worry about him right now. At least it wasn’t that damn peacock that terrorized Auburn Hill whenever it got a hair up its ass.
“Amelia. I’m just here to talk real friendly-like. No need for the shotgun.”
She sneered, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder before grabbing the weapon with both hands. “I’ll see about that. State your business, Smith. Or should I say Dolby?”
I nodded. “Right. I deserve that.” I glanced around, seeing one elderly couple walking around the gardens on the side of the property, glancing my way and whispering, probably wondering why I was shouting across the front lawn. “Listen, I made a mistake. Well, lots of mistakes actually. But the worst of all was hurting your sister. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life, I swear to you. I’d like to apologize to her, but a simple I’m sorry doesn’t seem big enough.”
Titus pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. “You need a grand gesture.” He threw me a friendly smile, which I appreciated. Seemed like all of Auburn Hill was pissed at me these days.
Amelia snorted. “Don’t give him ideas,” she said out the side of her mouth to Titus.
“What?” Titus replied. “It worked when you apologized to me.”
“Shh!” Amelia’s cheeks turned pink.
“Um, I actually have my own idea for a grand apology. That’s what I came here for. I need your help, Amelia.”
She turned back to me, suspicion carved into her expression. “Let me ask you a question first. Do you even love Oakley? Because I ain’t helping you do shit unless you can prove it to me first.”
I stood up taller, feeli
ng hopeful for the first time in a week. “What does Oakley hold most dear?”
“I’m not telling you!” Amelia spat, lifting the shotgun up like she was aiming now.
Titus answered almost at the same time. “You know, she loves that miniature motorcycle of hers.”
The side of my mouth hitched up. I really liked that guy. I heard Em climb out of the truck and approach behind me. I really didn’t like the idea of her being out here while Amelia held a deadly weapon. I’d have to hurry this thing up.
“No. That was a rhetorical question. I know what she values most. It’s honesty. Which is quite ironic because when I moved here, I was running from my past, refusing to acknowledge it, refusing to acknowledge all of me, past and present. But Oakley had me seeing things differently, even as I kept trying to resist. I thought things in real life weren’t so black and white, but I was wrong. When it comes to love, being honest is the only right answer. I love your sister more than my career and more than the pain that comes with facing my past.”
I put my hands down at my sides. If she wanted to shoot me, so be it. “I was wrong, and I’d like a shot at making things right.”
Amelia lowered the shotgun and lifted her nose in the air, but I could have sworn I saw a twinkle dancing in her eyes. “You want a shot, huh?”
I grinned full out. “No pun intended. Believe me.” The tension in the air dissipated just like that.
Titus hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I started a new pot of coffee if you’d like to come in and chat properly.”
Em came out from behind me and looped her arm through mine. “I like your boots!” she hollered to Amelia. “Thanks for not shooting my brother. He’s kind of important to me, even though he’s a knucklehead.”
“Hey,” I grumbled, marching forward to share my plan with Amelia and Titus. With a little more luck, they just might agree to help me.
28
Oakley
* * *
“Seriously? You have to pee again?”
Amelia insisted on driving today, like she knew if things were left up to me, I would have backed out of this little excursion by now. That and my Grom wouldn’t fit her widening belly, not that I would ever say that to her face. The last two weeks had been rough. If I wasn’t limping about my house in my sweats and boot, I was nagging Sheriff to let me back to work. Neither action had gotten me any further along the road to recovery. My heart still ached for Wyatt, and my calf still throbbed like the devil whenever I tried to walk without the boot.
Amelia had come over early today and forced me into the shower. Apparently bathing daily was a necessary thing, even when heartbroken. I’d awoken to a For Sale sign up in Wyatt’s front yard today. The sight had been a punch to the gut. He hadn’t bothered to come over, text me, call me, or even remotely fight for me the last two weeks. Half the time I didn’t want him to, but the prideful side of me thought that would have been nice. If I believed in the psycho-quackery, maybe what I needed was an explanation for proper closure.
“Hey, I waited patiently while you got dressed. The least you can do is make accommodations for my squished bladder. Blame your niece.” Amelia pulled the car off the highway and zeroed in on a gas station with bathrooms.
Funny how she could twist the truth. She hadn’t been patient at all. And I hadn’t even wanted to get dressed up. We were just shopping for nursery furniture. I could have stayed in my sweats, but Amelia had other ideas for me. She’d forced me to shower, blow-dry my hair, slap some makeup on, and put on a dress. My heart was a stormy gray cloud, but my outer appearance said girls’ shopping trip. Amelia kept repeating that stupid phrase about faking it until you made it in between looking at her watch and tapping her foot.
I glanced around the neighborhood as she hustled to the bathroom. Where the hell were we, anyway? The stores on either side of the gas station looked high end in a way stores around a gas station didn’t normally look. The Peacock B and B might turn a nice profit these days, but I didn’t think this area would have baby furniture in Amelia’s price range. When a convertible Bentley drove by, I knew we had to be in the wrong zip code.
Amelia climbed back into the car. “Whew! I feel so much better.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, suspicious now that I wasn’t busy grumbling about getting dressed up and leaving my house.
Amelia spent a great deal of time fussing with her mirrors. The ones that had been just fine for the hour and a half of driving we’d already done.
“You wouldn’t have heard of it. It’s an exclusive nursery furniture place in San Jose. Like, invite only. We’re only getting a chance because one of my guests is an investor in the place.” Amelia backed out and zoomed down the road in the opposite direction of the highway.
“Can you even afford anything there?”
“Rude, Oak. Jeez,” Amelia whined a little too loudly.
Something was up. I could just feel it. Cops don’t survive without that sixth sense, and mine was blaring like a foghorn. Amelia turned down another road, this one lined by tall trees and gated properties.
“Is this boutique at someone’s home?” I leaned so far over to get a glimpse at the mansion we were zooming by, I bumped my forehead on the window.
“Um, not sure,” Amelia murmured absentmindedly, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket and examining it.
She hit the brakes and made a sharp left, coming to an abrupt stop next to a stone column set off to the side before a huge wrought-iron gate. She rolled down her window and pressed the button.
“Amelia Waldo here for her appointment.” Amelia shot me a smile and a wink.
I refrained from rolling my eyes. This whole mysterious setup was just like Amelia. How did I get rolled up in one of her schemes yet again? You’d think after thirty years I would have learned not to trust her.
The gate slid open with nary a groan. I could only imagine how much lube they’d have to use to keep that sucker from creaking. The road dipped to the left, the drive lined with palm trees. For a quick second, I thought we might be headed to an exclusive hotel, but as we got closer, the bellhop took a familiar shape.
Wyatt.
He was here. In the flesh. Standing with his hands behind his back, his gaze trained on our car. My heart clenched, and despite how badly I wanted to cling to the anger I’d felt at being the last to know who he truly was, all I felt in that moment was a complete and overwhelming yearning to pull his strong body into mine in a hug I’d never let him out of.
“What’s going on?” I asked Amelia softly, my gaze never leaving Wyatt as we pulled up in front of a large home that clearly had several more zeros after it than my own house.
Amelia put the car in park and swiveled toward me. I couldn’t look at her though. I could only soak in the sight of Wyatt in a pair of dark-wash jeans, boots, and a polo shirt in a deep blue to accent his eyes, the sleeves tight around his biceps. He even wore the black bulky watch. The one I never saw him without. It was like I knew him backwards and forwards, yet I was seeing him for the first time.
“I know I do a lot of crazy things, but I think we can all agree that I have a finely tuned bullshit meter.” Amelia put a hand on my shoulder, making me break my gaze and swing my head over to see her sympathetic expression. “He came to see me last week. I really think you should hear him out.”
My brain scrambled to catch up. “No furniture shopping today?”
Amelia pressed her lips to keep from laughing. “No. No shopping today. Just you giving Wyatt a chance to explain some things. Promise you don’t hate me?”
Given the fact my heart was about to race right out of my chest just looking at Wyatt, I couldn’t deny that he and I had unfinished business.
“I don’t hate you, but you owe me one.” I lifted an eyebrow, and Amelia had the good graces to smile apologetically at duping me.
“Good. Now get out there and hear out that gorgeous man.” Amelia gave my shoulder a push, which I found I needed.
&nbs
p; What if we talked and he still wouldn’t tell me everything? What if I melted in front of all that gorgeous man meat and he still didn’t trust me enough to lay everything on the line? My heart couldn’t take another beating.
Wyatt stepped forward and opened my door, his open palm extended between us. After just a second of hesitation, I went with the pull I couldn’t deny and placed my hand in his. He helped me up, closed the door, and continued to hold my hand as we walked closer to the house. He kept his pace slow, his eyes nearly burning my skin as he assessed my condition.
“How’s the calf?” he asked, voice so rough it sent shivers across my skin.
I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Good. Still healing, but I’ll be fine.”
Honestly, the leg was the least of my worries. It was the limp in my heart that had my attention. Hope flooded in, masking the pain I’d felt for two weeks since I’d last seen Wyatt.
“Oakley.” Wyatt stopped in front of a massive door, his gaze flickering between me and the house. “I owe you quite a few apologies, but I figured the words wouldn’t mean anything. You deserve more than that.”
“Wyatt—” I interrupted, hating to see him uncertain.
“No. Let me finish. You deserve an explanation. You deserve to see exactly who I am and decide if I’m the man you want in your life. I should have done this right from the start, but I was afraid. I couldn’t believe that a woman like you would want to have anything to do with me. Only after long conversations with my sister and my mother could I see that I’m not the man I used to be, but the old me is a part of who I am now and you need to see all of that. So, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to show you who I am. No lies, no omissions, just honesty.”
That flare of hope burned brighter. That’s all I’d ever wanted: a chance to get to know the real Wyatt.