by Erin Wright
He couldn’t wait to get out of here. Just a couple more weeks and then…freedom. Or, at least probation. Which was a hell of a lot closer to freedom than he had right now.
Chapter 12
Abby
Just as Wyatt and Maggie came around the corner, looking like two lost souls coming in from a trip to Antarctica, the lights flickered for just a moment, and Abby held her breath. Maybe they’d stay…
Darkness.
“Really?” Wyatt’s voice held exasperation and a hint of laughter. “Declan, I guess we oughta just be happy that this is truly a Christmas we’ll never forget.”
“I can’t imagine we will,” Declan said dryly in the darkness. Maggie didn’t seem to think this was nearly as funny as the two Miller brothers did, and she began whining her uncertainty.
Abby fumbled with the flashlight always strapped to her service belt and then flicked it on. The beam shot through the darkness, hindering almost as much as it was helping. “Hold on, let me get back to the other flashlights,” she said, and ducked to grab the flashlights lined up underneath Wyatt’s bunk. She’d put them there after bringing supplies back to the cell, wanting an easy place to find them in case they were actually needed.
In a snowstorm like this, the county plows would have a hard time getting the roads cleared enough that the Idaho Power electricians would be able to fix the problem, wherever it was at in the valley, and that meant that they weren’t likely to get power back until morning, maybe longer. She grabbed a flashlight for each brother and tossed them over, carefully tossing Wyatt’s through the bars of the cell. With a flashlight in her master’s hand, Maggie’s whines died away and she followed him into the cell obediently.
“Do you have a towel for me to dry her?” Wyatt asked, nodding his head towards his mostly frozen dog. Abby pulled two from the stack and tossed them to him also.
“I figured you’d need one after you went outside. Got one for both of you.”
He caught them easily and his teeth flashed in the semi-darkness. “Thanks.”
His husky voice did something…unmentionable to her stomach and she worked hard to shove that feeling far, far away. She could not allow herself to feel anything for Wyatt Miller.
Not
Possible
“So what’s the plan?” Wyatt asked the group. “Are there special bunks for officers who have to stay at the jail overnight?”
She shook her head. “Normally, we have a checklist of items that we have to take care of, and we’re responsible for working our way down the list. After that, it’s a simple matter of keeping a chair from floating away, and staying awake. Someone has to be at the jail at all times if there’s a prisoner here, so it’s not even like I could go out on patrol, even if the roads were clear. At this point, I’d probably be reading and trying to keep my eyeballs propped open. Luckily, I don’t have to work many overnights.”
Her incredibly long day – her normal shift combined with this unexpected second shift – was starting to wreak havoc on her body. Whether or not she was actually supposed to sleep on the job was no longer up for debate. She would have to sleep tonight. It was simply a matter of deciding where she was going to sleep.
“I think you should sleep in here with us,” Declan said, voicing her thoughts out loud. “With the electricity off, I imagine the heat’s gone too, right?”
She nodded. “It’s a gas furnace, but it relies on electricity to keep the pilot light lit. The back-up generator is supposed to take care of all of that, but…” She shrugged.
“It doesn’t make much sense to have you out, wandering around in jail, possibly getting hurt in the dark, and we wouldn’t even know it,” Wyatt pointed out. “We should stick together. Just for tonight. Come morning, we’ll figure out what to do.”
She liked the word “we.” It implied her and Wyatt together.
She liked it a little too much. She needed to stop liking it, pronto.
Declan settled down into the second bunk in the cell, and Abby realized with a start how weird that felt to her. For six weeks now, the only bunk that had been used in the cell was Wyatt’s. The other one stayed untouched. They had six cells with two beds each, so when other people were housed in the jail, Wyatt hadn’t had to share. Luckily, the Long Valley County Jail wasn’t filled to capacity very often.
But now, just having the other bunk filled felt…off.
And it felt even more off when Wyatt insisted that she sleep in his bunk. “I can sleep on the floor. No woman is going to sleep on the floor while I sleep on a bed.” Abby felt like calling these bunks with their squeaky mattresses a “bed” was a real stretch of the imagination, but she finally acquiesced. Arguing and winning with a Miller brother was a feat not many people had managed, and she didn’t think it was likely she’d win tonight.
Wyatt settled down into a pile of blankets on the floor, Maggie next to him, and he and Declan began messing around, using the flashlights as spotlights, holding them up underneath their chins and telling ghost stories. Abby laughed at the obvious over-the-top plots and extreme “ghostly voices” that they were using.
Eventually, they began telling childhood stories, stories that Abby noticed didn’t include Stetson, at least not in any major way. She tried to remember how many years there were between Wyatt and Stetson. She knew Stetson had been a surprise to the Miller couple, and they’d struggled some with including him with the two older brothers. She wondered if that was at the root of the problems between Wyatt and Stetson, or if it was something else.
Speaking of problems…
Wyatt also stole Daddy’s farm out from underneath him just when he needed help, not a kick when he was down.
It was something she didn’t like to focus on much; she tried not to let the anger at what Wyatt had said around town afterwards get to her. It was easier for her to let it go than it was for her father, though. He would never forgive Wyatt – not for stealing his farm, nor for badmouthing him to anyone who would sit still.
Yet another reason to not let yourself fall in love, Abby.
She wasn’t sure if the stern warning was going to be heeded or not. Her mind knew what she should do but her heart was flat-out ignoring logic and reason.
She heard Declan’s deep breathing and realized he’d fallen asleep. She could hear Maggie’s snores ringing out, and wondered if Wyatt was asleep also. How long had she let her thoughts wander?
“Are you asleep?” Wyatt asked, his face popping up on the side of the bed, eyes just an inch from her own. She stifled back a scream at his sudden appearance, and then leaned forward and whacked him across the head.
“Yes, I’m fully awake now, thankyouverymuch,” she whispered scoldingly. He grinned at her – two smiles in one day! – and then disappeared out of sight again. Abby wriggled to the edge of the bed so she could see what he was doing, hating every squeak of the mattress as she moved. Damn, these things were obnoxious. Why did they curse their inmates with them? By the end of a month, she’d be stark-raving mad if she had to sleep on one every night.
She really should convince her dad to swap them out for something that wasn’t quite so obnoxious. Of course, that meant having to explain to her dad that she slept in Wyatt’s cell.
She’d rather keep that bit of information to herself.
For this one night, with the blanket of white wrapping around the jail, enclosing them in their own little cocoon, she could ignore the world. She could ignore the fact that she was the jailer, that Wyatt was the prisoner, that she shouldn’t be doing what she was doing, that she shouldn’t be feeling what she was feeling.
Just for one night. One little Christmas miracle, one little moment of letting go of doing what was strictly correct, and doing instead what felt right.
One night wouldn’t hurt her…right?
She peered over the edge of the mattress and saw Wyatt was rearranging his nest of bedding on the floor. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously.
“If I’m going t
o talk to you since Declan conked out on me and Maggie isn’t much for talking, I thought I’d move closer to you. Just so we can talk more quietly and not disturb Dec.”
Which is when she said something she never, ever thought she would.
“You should come up here.”
Oh my God, Abby, where did that come from?
The lighting in the jail was awful, with the flashlights standing on end, shining straight up at the ceiling, leaving everything else in semi-darkness.
But even in that dark, spooky lighting, she could see him freeze. The world stopped for a moment as he just stared at her. “Are you…are you sure?” he asked tentatively. He wasn’t moving an inch; she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. He seemed to have been utterly frozen by the idea.
“It’s only going to get colder in here as the heat in the building dissipates,” she pointed out reasonably. “You’re lying on the cold cement floor. By morning, you could have frostbite.”
Except, what she wasn’t saying was, Wyatt and Declan should snuggle up in a bunk together, and she and Maggie Mae should snuggle up together. She could stand the dog’s awful breath for one night. Probably.
What she absolutely should not be doing is snuggling up with Wyatt Miller, the man with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. The man who’d beat a guy into a bloody pulp, requiring two rounds of reconstructive surgery to get his nose back into what might reasonably be called decent shape. The man who’d humiliated her father in front of everyone.
The man who made her heart go pitter-patter in her chest.
No, she should definitely not snuggle up to him.
Ignoring the best advice she’d ever given herself, she pulled the edge of the blanket back and patted on the thin mattress. Even just this brief exposure to the rapidly cooling air made her shiver. “C’mon, before all the heat gets out,” she urged him. He flicked the two flashlights off, plunging the cell into total, disorienting darkness, and then shuffled his way to his bunk, climbing up beside her.
“You face that direction,” she said, pointing away from her, and then, realizing he couldn’t see her, added, “Away from me. I’ll snuggle up to your back so we can keep warm.” And your penis can be facing a different direction than towards me. Because she was sure that it would want more than what she or Wyatt would think was a good idea.
No matter how good it would feel.
Slowly, haltingly, they began chatting, and he ever-so-slowly relaxed back against her, her arm draped over his muscular chest. She found herself stroking his chest a few times and forced herself to stop each time. It was instinctual but she couldn’t let herself do it. It wasn’t appropriate, to say the least.
None of this was, but she was ignoring that fact for the moment, and clinging to the idea that she’d do this with anyone under the circumstances. Anyone at all.
She just happened to be a little more willing when it came to Wyatt Miller.
A little lot more willing, to be specific.
“After losing Sierra and Shelly to that asshole, I’ve felt a huge hole in my life,” Wyatt said quietly into the darkness. “I miss my wife; everyone who knew her, loved her. She was a wonderful companion and we got along well, for the most part. I think most people who’ve been married for a while will tell you that no spouse is perfect, and we certainly had our fights.
“But Sierra? Losing her was to lose a part of my soul. If I were to ever risk getting married again, risk falling in love with someone, it would be to have kids. I won’t have another Sierra, I know that. But I miss her so much. I miss pushing her on the swing set. I miss teaching her how to count and what her colors are and the difference between a circle and an oval. I miss teaching her how to read. My wife was a huge reader; we have books everywhere in our house, but when Sierra was born, we quickly went from reading the farm report and the latest New York Times bestsellers, to reading The Cat in the Hat. And I didn’t mind, not one bit. I would’ve done anything for my daughter. Anything at all.”
His voice died away in the darkness, and Abby heard all that he didn’t say but meant, and she felt panic well up inside of her. No reason to panic, Abby Connelly. There was never anything real between you and Wyatt anyway, and you know it. This is just the last reminder that you need to let it go.
But instead of wiggling her way over onto her left side, turning away from Wyatt and his body and his warmth and his smell, she snuggled closer instead. Because it was Christmas Eve and if only for one night, she deserved to be happy. To pretend it could all be hers.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Chapter 13
Wyatt
Slowly, Wyatt came awake. He was cold, his nose and cheeks and ears feeling frozen, almost frostbitten, but his body was deliciously warm. And comfortable. There was a soft, warm body next to his that smelled so good. Even before he was fully awake, his dick was standing at attention. He wanted to snuggle up against…
Abby Connelly?
He froze, his arm wrapped around her waist, and his eyes staring at her profile, just an inch away from the curve of her ear. He wanted to lean forward and nuzzle her neck. He wanted to kiss his way over to her delightfully pink mouth, open as she breathed in and out softly, dead asleep to the world.
The high windows running the length of the cell block let in a little light, weak and faltering and gray, but there. Enough to know who he was lying next to, enough to know that last night, when she’d invited him to sleep next to her, that it hadn’t been a dream.
As cold as it was in the cell, what with his right arm out above the blanket and feeling only slightly warmer than popsicle, he knew that her allowing him to sleep next to her kept him warm enough to actually sleep. Lying on the cold cement jail floor, he might’ve otherwise spent a miserable night shivering, teeth chattering, trying to stay warm, even with Maggie.
He drew his arm down, underneath the blankets, as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb Abby. As much as his mind knew that lying there with her was a Class A Awful Idea, his body…it quite liked the idea, to say the least.
He closed his eyes, pretending for just a moment that he was at home, in bed, and it was his wife lying next to him.
It was a dangerous game to play. He shouldn’t be playing it. He knew that, without a doubt in his mind.
But that didn’t make the temptation any less real. Any less overwhelming.
I think I’m falling in love with Abby Connelly.
He squeezed his eyes as hard as he could, as if to push those words out of his mind.
Even more so than wanting to sleep with her, falling in love with her was a giant no-no, complete with red flashing lights and a siren going a million miles a minute.
Out of all the women in all the world to fall in love with, Abby was the Number One Worst Choice Ever. Her father hated his guts, she was his jailer, and…
And…
Well, he was sure there were more reasons that it wouldn’t work between them. He just had to take the time to come up with them.
He searched, flipping through reasons, until he realized that every one of them were reasons that he was attracted to her. The way she’d laugh until she snorted, and then she’d turn this brilliant, gorgeous pink. How thoughtful she was, even requesting that the diner not put tomatoes on his sandwiches after their discussions on the downright awfulness of raw tomatoes and how they simply weren’t fit to be eaten.
And she was gorgeous – absolutely, perfectly, wonderfully gorgeous. She’d been too skinny in high school; too much of a stick for his tastes. He hadn’t paid much attention to her back then, because she’d been so much younger than him, and because she just hadn’t been his type. He liked women with meat on their bones, not women who he’d crush just by looking at them sideways.
But ever since high school, she’d started to fill out, her curves just right. Her curves, which were currently pressed against him. He stifled a groan. He was going to end up a eunuch if this lasted much longer, or at least wishing he w
as a eunuch. He only had so much self-control and the little that was there was rapidly disappearing, the longer she lay next to him.
She mumbled in her sleep and his breathing stopped. As torturous as it was to lay next to her, it was even worse to contemplate having her leave. He didn’t want her going anywhere. At age 66, he would still want to be right there, hoping she would continue to sleep.
But her mumbles got a little louder and then her eyelashes fluttered open. Her lips curled softly into a drowsy smile…
Right before it hit her.
She shot up in bed, clutching the blankets to her chest as she went. Wyatt instantly shivered from the blast of freezing cold air that hit him.
“Hi. Good morning. I’m getting out of bed now. Sorry to disturb you. I’m leaving. Good day.”
Throughout that barrage of words, she was trying to wiggle over him without actually touching him in the most awkward horizontal mamba in the history of mankind. She got to the edge of the bed and tumbled off, hair flying through the air as she landed with a loud thump on the floor. Maggie Mae, who’d curled up in the nest of blankets that Wyatt had left on the floor, stood up with a stretch and then nosed her new companion on the floor, taking a swipe at Abby’s nose and mouth in greeting.
“Hi, Maggie,” Abby said, clearly not comfortable at all, while also still being about 52% asleep. “I need to go and I need to do stuff. Important stuff. Official stuff.” She scrambled to her feet, her wrinkled uniform in a disarray, and Wyatt was sure, for just a moment, that he’d spotted a red lacy bra before she straightened her shirt out.
“You need any help with that important, official stuff?” Declan asked dryly. She whirled around, her hand on her chest. She obviously hadn’t realized Declan was awake any more than Wyatt had.
“Sure. Yes. That’d be great. I’ll be upfront. I’ll meet you when you’re ready,” she said, scooping up her service belt on her way out of the cell. She left the door slightly open so Declan could get out without a problem and headed up front without looking back.