by Gemma Bruce
He hit the ground and was pinned there by a ton of black fur and bad breath. The animal bared its teeth. Cas squeezed his eyes shut and felt a rough, wet tongue rasp over his face.
“Off, Smitty.”
Cas heard the words, felt the beast being hauled off him. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself looking up at six legs: four, muscular and furry; two, muscular and sleek—and definitely female. He had to stop himself from reaching out to caress them.
Her companion growled and Cas yanked his eyes away to stare warily at the dog. He was pretty sure it was a dog. A really big dog.
“Never lower your firearm on a perp who might be armed.” She waved the muzzle of her weapon in Cas’s direction, then leaned over and picked up his .38 from the ground. She looked at it. “And maybe next time you should try loading this.” She dropped it into his lap and heaved a sigh that lifted her shoulders and stretched the fabric of her shirt across her breasts. And Cas forgot about the dog, as he imagined sucking on the hard nipples that showed through the silk.
She stomped past him, shaking her head. The dog trotted after her.
Cas watched them—watched her—walk away, her hair trailing behind her, the work boots adding a hitch to her walk that swung her butt from side to side and set the fabric shifting and sliding against her body. And he wanted to touch her, slide his fingers inside the shift, and feel warm, firm flesh beneath his fingers. But mostly he wanted to touch her hair.
Halfway to the house, she paused and looked over her shoulder. “They’re getting away,” she said and continued toward the house.
After a stupefied second, he pushed himself off the ground. What was happening to him? He never thought about groping strange women, even magical ones like this one. He licked his lips, stuck his .38 in his jacket pocket and followed after her.
When he reached the porch, she was at the front door. So was the dog.
“Uh, miss ... Ma’am? If you’d call off the dog, I could take down some information.”
He saw a flick of her hand and he had to keep himself from diving for the bushes, but the dog merely padded past her into the house.
“Well, if you’re not going to chase the thieves, you may as well come in,” she said and turned to go inside.
“Wait,” he cried.
She stopped mid-step.
“You might want to leave those boots on the porch.”
She looked down at the work boots, sniffed, then wrinkled her nose. “Oh.” She leaned over to pull them off.
Her ass tightened beneath the soft nightshirt, and Cas had a tightening response of his own. He shifted uncomfortably and stared at the mailbox until he got himself under control.
This was ridiculous. He should be used to this. For four months, women had called him in all sorts of getups at all hours of the night. He was, after all, the town’s most eligible bachelor. Actually he was the town’s only eligible bachelor. None of them had the least effect on him. But this one knocked him right out of his socks. Made his dick throb, just looking at her. She might not be Julie, but she looked pretty damn good. He might as well find out who she was and what she was doing here—and how long she planned to stay.
“Coming?” she asked and let the screen door slam behind her.
Oh yeah, thought Cas. I’m coming.
Chapter 3
Julie padded barefoot down the hall to the kitchen, thinking, I am such a dolt for turning my back on this rube. I didn’t even ask for his ID. But unless he stole the police cruiser, he was the local law enforcement.
She heard the door open, then close. And not much enforcement if he was following her instead of the trail of her burglars.
Well, what did she expect from a guy who carried an unloaded gun, then stood out in the open, a perfect full-frontal target for any gun-happy asshole that might be passing by.
“Seriously inept,” she said to Smitty, who was waiting alertly by his food bowl. “And it’s the middle of the night, so don’t look pathetic.” She placed her Glock on the counter within reach and tossed him a dog chewy from a box on the counter. He caught it with the efficiency of long practice. It was one of his better skills.
Julie sniffed. “Did you bring that smell back in with you?” She crossed to the sink and searched for a bar of soap.
“It’s on the windowsill.”
Julie jumped; she hadn’t heard him come into the kitchen. She begrudgingly gave him a point for stealth.
“Thanks.” She stretched over the sink to reach the bar of soap and her nightshirt crept up the back of her thighs. She remembered that she wasn’t wearing underwear. She pulled at the hem, grabbed the soap, and turned on the water.
“Watch—”
“Shit!” she cried as water exploded into the air. “Shit, shit.”
She jabbed at the tap, cutting off the spray, then turned around. “I don’t suppose you know a good plumb—”The rest of the word stuck in her throat. It was the first good look she’d gotten at the less than enthusiastic sheriff and it took her breath away.
The guy was a hunk, tall and solid, enticing even wearing a pair of holey gray sweats, a ragged windbreaker, and a battered Red Sox baseball cap. She ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips. She’d probably gotten him out of bed and she wouldn’t mind getting him back there again.
No. She didn’t mean to think that. She was here to solve Wes’s riddle, find the rest of her inheritance, and get the hell out. His eyes were fixed on her chest. Julie became aware of the wet silk, clinging to her body. Her nipples tightened and she forgot what she was thinking. She stepped toward him.
“Uh.” He pulled out a chair from the table and sat down hard. Then he winced and rolled to one hip.
Oh great, a big hunky sheriff with hemorrhoids. No wonder he didn’t want to sprint through the woods after a burglar.
His face was extremely pale.
“Are you going to faint? Put your head between your knees.” Or between mine, she thought as she stepped toward him to render basic first aid.
He waved her off. “No, I’m fine. Really. Don’t come any closer.”
Julie stopped. What was wrong with him? Oh right, the hemorrhoids. He was probably embarrassed.
He shifted again, pulled off his cap, and ran a hand through his hair which she noticed was dark brown, thick and slightly wavy. Hair that a woman could get her fingers into. Then his hand moved away; the hair above the right side of his forehead stood straight up. The sheriff had a cowlick. In the same place as Cas’s cowlick. She leaned forward and frowned at him over the expanse of formica.
He moved back against the chair and eyed her warily.
Chocolate eyes, chestnut hair, a cowlick. It couldn’t be. Julie swallowed. “Cas?”
The sheriff’s muscle-tight body lifted off the chair and landed again.
“Yeah?” he said in a choked voice.
“Cas Reynolds?”
He nodded.
“It’s Julie.” She pointed to herself like a teacher in an ESL class.
“Julie?”
She nodded, while she tried to reconcile the bald, stooped banker Cas of her imagination to this Adonis in sweat pants, sitting at her table.
“Wow.” He stood up and reached for her. Julie reached for him, and at the same moment, he sat down again and Julie sprawled across the table top.
Smitty, who was lying next to his chair, jumped to attention.
“Down, Smitty,” said Julie and pushed herself back to her feet. “I don’t believe it.”
“Me neither. Oh shit.” He stood up and yanked her into a hug.
Her head snapped back as her body arched forward, then rebounded off his chest before settling against him. And Julie thought, Home at last. Home in the figurative sense, since home in Ex Falls had been an old factory shack only two steps away from the local trailer park.
“Oh shit,” Cas said again and tangled his fingers in her hair.
He was definitely glad to see her, unless the thing pressing into her stomach was
his police special. And she knew for a fact that it was sitting in full view on the kitchen table.
She rubbed against him just for old times’ sakes, as payback for all the times he’d tied her up and peeked at her underwear. He groaned and his erection hardened.
This could be fun, she thought. This could be a disaster, she reminded herself.
Then Cas pulled away. “I don’t know where to start.”
Julie knew where she’d like to start. But this was Cas, and although he’d grown up to be everything she could have hoped for, at least physically, it was Cas after all. And she knew better than to expect anything good from him.
“For starters, what are you doing here?” asked Julie.
“You called 911.”
“No, I mean what are you doing here? In Ex Falls?”
“Uh.” His brows knitted.
It seemed like a no-brainer to Julie, but the silence grew. She was beginning to think he had forgotten the question, when Cas said, “Just am.”
Oh, well, he may not have grown into a great conversationalist, but he was lovely to look at. “Why don’t I put on some coffee and we can catch up,” she said, thinking, I could fuck you brainless and you’d deserve it. “Unless you have to get home, uh, to your family ... or something.”
“I don’t live at home. I mean, with my parents. No other family. Not married. Anymore.”
Julie nodded. At least they’d gotten that out of the way right up front.
“You?”
“Me? Married? No.”
“Good—I mean, do you think you could put on some clothes? I’m having a hard time thinking here.”
“Oh. Sorry,” she said, frowning. For someone who’d spent years trying to see under her clothes, he sure was in a hurry to get her dressed again. It didn’t make sense. His motor had definitely been revving for her.
“I’ll make the coffee, while you’re gone. I know my way around.”
“Great.” Julie hurried toward the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“No,” said Cas, casting a glance toward Smitty, who stood between him and the door.
“Smitty, behave,” said Julie. Smitty bared his teeth. “Good boy.” And she was gone.
“Nice dog,” said Cas, inching toward the counter. Smitty stood up. Cas froze. There was a momentary standoff, then Cas tilted his head to crack his neck. Smitty cocked his head, keeping his eyes fixed on Cas. Cas eyed him back, then tilted his head to the other side. So did Smitty.
“You know, Smitty, you scared the shit out of me out there, but you’re really just a pushover. Aren’t you?”
“Arf,” said Smitty and thumped his tail on the floor before heaving to his feet and following Cas over to the counter.
Cas reached into a cabinet and brought out a tin of Maxwell House, then plugged in the coffee maker. He placed the carafe in the sink, turned on the spigot and jumped back. The pipes clanked to life, water exploded into the air, then slowly trickled into the carafe.
“It’s a knack,” he said to Smitty as he poured the water into the coffee maker.
The dog smiled appreciatively.
While the coffee brewed, Cas began to pace, occasionally stopping to look down at Smitty. “I can’t believe this. I never thought—but of course, Wes—she probably thinks I’m an idiot, right? I am an idiot. I haven’t seen her since—ugh. I was an idiot then, too. A real idiot. Do you think she remembers? Of course she does. She probably hates me.”
Smitty snuffled and lay down with his head on his paws.
“I know, I sound pitiful. She has every right to hate me. And here I am with the biggest boner I’ve had in years just because she looked at me. Do you think she noticed? God, I’m an idiot. Maybe I should just leave before she gets back.”
Smitty’s ears pricked up and he bared his teeth.
“Or maybe not,” said Cas, taking a step back. He frowned down at Smitty. “I’m not sure. Are you about to attack me or burst out laughing? It’s hard to tell.”
The door opened and Julie walked in, wearing skintight jeans and a stretchy short T-shirt that exposed her midriff. Cas sucked in his breath, felt his sweatpants start to tent, and turned to pour the coffee, trying to think of something besides the little silver ring that pierced her navel.
He managed to hand her a cup and still keep his back to her. When she sat down at the table, he threw himself into the chair across from her.
“Ugfff,” he said as his balls hit the wooden seat and pinned themselves against his thigh, sending a jolt right up to his incisors.
Julie winced. “Preparation H.”
“Huh?” asked Cas, his brain fuzzing over with pain.
“All the hook—models use it to reduce swelling. Under their eyes,” she added hastily. “I thought it might help with your, uh, problem.”
Cas glanced past the table to his lap and shuddered. “I don’t think so.”
“Just a suggestion,” she said and picked up her coffee cup. She took a couple of thoughtful sips and put the mug down. “Are you really the sheriff?”
“Really.”
“But what about—”
“The Reynolds banking legacy? I tried it. I hated it. I quit after four years. God, do you know what it’s like to wear a suit eight hours a day, five days a week, and never know what the weather is like?”
“No.” She got to wear outlandish outfits and go places no one who wasn’t being paid would ever go. But Cas giving up banking? Becoming a sheriff? It was a little too much to believe.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” When they were kids, he’d been the make-believe cop. She had become the real cop. Now, she wasn’t and Cas was. Life was weird.
“Yeah. So was Reynolds.”
“And you’ve been here ever since?”
“N-o-o. Only a few months.” He paused and looked away. “I went back to school.”
“In law enforcement?” Her surprise made her voice rise.
“No.” Cas looked down at his untouched coffee. Began to circle the cup on the table. “In boat building—”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. And I was making a decent living at it.”
“Good for you. So ... what are you doing here?”
Cas shrugged. “Came for a visit. And stuff happened. They needed a sheriff, and my father is ...”
Nuts, supplied Julie.
“And my mother is ...”
Living in la-la land, thought Julie.
“Well, you remember my mother.”
Julie nodded. Still in la-la land.
“Bruce has a job in Chicago, Christine and her husband bought the old Excelsior Hotel and are trying to make a go of it. Melanie’s still in high school and at a difficult stage. So ...” He shrugged.
“You decided to stay and take care of things?”
“Temporarily.”
“Not much call for boat building in the Adirondacks.”
“No, though I started a new project since I’ve been here.” He looked away. “The job of sheriff isn’t too demanding. Usually. And it’s just until Hank gets back up to speed from his heart attack. I’m really not cut out for the job.”
Julie smiled. “I don’t know. You were always good at interrogation.”
He blinked at her, then grinned. And Julie felt a zing where she hadn’t felt a zing in a long time.
“You were easy.”
I’m still easy, she thought. Just try me.
“But that’s enough about me. What about you?”
“Me? There’s not much to tell. Wes left me all this. I just came back to sell it, but it looks like I might be staying longer than I anticipated. It needs a little work.”
“Great,” said Cas. “I mean, you can leave your job long enough to fix it up?”
Julie nodded. She didn’t think it would be wise to tell him about her disaster at the NYPD, and she didn’t want him to worry that she might be competing for his job of sheriff. Not to mention that a wom
an being a cop was a huge turn-off to a lot of men. And she had no intention of turning this one off. “I’ve got a lot of vacation time due.”
“Good. That’s good.” The case clock gonged in the background. Cas looked at his watch and stood up. “It’s after two, and you’ve got an early morning.”
Actually Julie planned to sleep until noon, but Cas probably had to get up, so she let it pass. There was no hurry. She’d be here for a while and she had just added Cas Reynolds to her to-do list. She was due for a little fun. And if it was at Cas’s expense, all the better. She smiled at him. Hot sex and sweet revenge. She was going to enjoy this.
She followed him out to the porch, stood while he gave her one of those teepee hugs, where the faces come together, but the bodies don’t. It had all the warmth of window shopping.
She watched him walk toward his car and wondered when he had turned into such a prig. He opened the driver’s door and looked back at her. “Don’t go roaming around in the woods anymore.”
“Lions, tigers, and bears?” she asked.
“Deer season.” He shut the door, started up the engine, and drove away, while she mouthed a silent oh into the suddenly lonely night.
Cas drove away without looking back, one hand on the steering wheel, the other pulling the seat belt strap away from his painfully hard erection. If he didn’t get his mind off Julie Excelsior, he’d be cross-eyed by the time he got home. Any way he looked at it, it was going to be a long night.
And for what? The whole time in her kitchen, he’d been announcing his attraction loud and clear, and she stood there asking about his life—an oblivious siren—aloof, tempting, unattainable.
Well, what did he expect? It had been fifteen years since Reynolds had destroyed their friendship. She was just a kid and he was no match for his father. He deserved the reaction he got tonight. Who would still care for someone who deserted her without a word of explanation? How could she know that afterwards was the unhappiest time of his life? Because even then, he knew he loved her and always would.
He had lost Julie and hadn’t even managed to please his father. And he knew as sure as he felt the throb in his crotch, that he would be caught between the two of them again. And would lose again.