On the Fence (Chance City Series Book Two)

by Robin Deeter

  They had to break apart to finish undressing. Brock’s eyes traveled slowly over her lush curves and slightly copper skin. Moving closer to her, he kissed her and skimmed his fingers up her arms. His lips left hers to trail down her neck to her shoulder. He lightly scored her skin with his teeth and pulled her down to the soft blankets with him.

  Stretching out by her, he caressed her shoulders before filling his palm with one of her full breasts. She arched into his hand and he teased her nipple, making her moan and squirm a little. Leaning over her, he took her other nipple into his mouth and created suction.

  Daphne fisted her hand in his hair as sensation washed through her. Brock’s growl of approval heightened her excitement. He glided the hand that had been playing with her breast down over her stomach to the junction between her legs. When he reached her core, she jerked and moaned. As he pleasured her, the rest of the world fell away. She yearned for something she couldn’t name, but she trusted Brock to give it to her.

  Brock kissed his way back up to her neck, murmuring words of love and urging her on. He told her how beautiful she was and how much she excited him. Suddenly she wrapped her arms around his neck and shuddered against him. It was so satisfying to him that he could give her that kind of pleasure and he had more in store for her.

  Daphne had never felt something so intoxicating, so consuming that she could think of nothing else but Brock and the sensations he created within her. She couldn’t stop running her hands over his arms and shoulders as he covered her body with his. He was muscular and powerful and she liked the contrast in their skin tones. Her darker skin next to his paler complexion was beautiful to her.

  Brock let her explore his body, loving the dark fire in her eyes and her quickened breathing. When she tentatively closed her hand around his erect manhood, Brock groaned and rested his forehead on her chest. He stayed that way for a few moments before his control broke and he had to have her.

  Lovingly, he instructed her on what to do next. As they become one and he broke the barrier, she cried out a little. Brock held her and kissed her until she was ready to continue. Controlling his urges, he made slow, gentle love to her, taking them on a sensual journey to a shimmering pinnacle of sheer joy.

  When the last bliss-filled tremors ran through them and ebbed away, Brock slowly collapsed on Daphne. When he heard her sniff, he quickly looked at her, startled to see tears trailing from her eyes.

  “Oh, God. Are you all right? Was I too rough?”

  He went to move away, but she wouldn’t let him.

  “No, stay right here. You were perfect.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  She smiled even as more tears welled in her eyes. “It was so beautiful. I didn’t know it would be like that. I love you and I’m so glad that we made love. When can we do it again?”

  Brock grinned down at her. “Well, give me a little time and I’ll be ready.”

  She hugged him and giggled. “I’m so glad. Just stay like this until then.”

  “I’m not crushing you?”

  “No. It feels so good to hold you like this.”

  Brock capitulated, perfectly content to remain where he was. They talked about all sorts of things from wedding plans to cats and dogs. Then, as promised, Brock made love to her again, trying to show her how much he loved and needed her.

  They spent the night loving and laughing together, creating a bond that went beyond the physical. Their hearts joined as one as much as their bodies did and it was those emotions that made everything else much sweeter, more meaningful. Their little tipi was a place of magic and love. When dawn approached, they left their little oasis, not wanting to return to their everyday lives.

  Looking back at the tipi as she and Brock walked hand in hand, Daphne asked, “You’re not going to take that down are you?”

  “Hell, no.”

  Her face broke out in a huge grin. “We’re going to come back here?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “Stop swearing,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brock put an arm around her shoulders. “That’s our love tipi and I’ll never take it down.”

  She giggled and leaned against him. “Our love tipi?”

  “Yeah. Our love tipi.”

  They laughed over his sappy name, but that was how they would always think of it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brock sat at his desk the next morning, trying to finish a report about a burglary, but his mind kept straying to the night he’d spent in Daphne’s arms. Making love with her had been unlike anything he’d ever known. He’d expected her to be shy and scared, but after her initial hesitation, she’d been eager and passionate.

  She was the most beautiful, sensual woman he’d ever been with and already he craved her again even though they’d spent all those hours together. He knew that his desire for her would never be satiated. The way she looked, the way she felt in his arms… Brock jerked his mind away from that and refocused his attention on his job. It wouldn’t do to get all worked up in front of his coworkers.

  He’d just finished with the report when someone came in the door. The young man looked around curiously.

  “Can I help you?” Brock asked.

  “I’m looking for Sheriff Anderson. Is he around?”

  Brock shook his head and stood up. “No. He’s not back from a meeting yet, but I expect him soon. You’re welcome to wait. I’m Brock Guthrie, one of his deputies.”

  He extended a hand to the other man.

  “I’m Hunter Stetson, the new deputy.”

  Brock grinned. “That’s right. I forgot you were coming today. Welcome aboard.”

  Hunter smiled, his warm brown eyes shining with good humor. “Thanks. It’s good to be here.”

  “So, Stetson, huh?”

  Hunter laughed. “No relation, unfortunately. I get asked that all the time.”

  “Crap. I could use a new hat,” Brock said. “I thought maybe you could get me a discount.”

  “Sorry.”

  Brock surreptitiously looked Hunter over as he started showing him around. He judged him to be around six-three and probably around a hundred and eighty pounds and muscular with it. He wore black washmaker pants, a white shirt and a black, leather vest under a black duster.

  “You are wearing a Stetson, though.” Brock indicated Hunter’s nice black cowboy hat. “And that’s a pretty fancy gun, too.”

  Hunter took the pearl-handled silver revolver out of the holster and handed it to Brock. “Daddy gave me that for my birthday this year. Mama gave me the hat.”

  Brock looked the fine firearm over and then handed it back to Hunter. “I know what a gun and hat like that cost. You must not be hurting for money.”

  Hunter put his gun away. “Well, we own a pharmacy and don’t do too bad. I’m an only child and I’ll admit that they sort of spoil me.”

  Brock grunted. “Well, don’t expect that sort of treatment around here.”

  Hunter turned serious. “No, sir. I don’t want any special treatment. I’m here to do a job and I’ll pull my own weight.”

  “Glad to hear it. This is the kitchen. Rob makes the coffee because he’s fussy about how it’s made. And out here we have the Dog House.”

  Hunter’s forehead wrinkled. “The what?”

  Brock smiled as they exited the kitchen door that opened onto the yard. “It’s actually Det. Decker’s office. He claimed the shed as his office and he has three dogs that work with us. So I started calling it the Dog House and it stuck.”

  “Better than calling it the Cat House,” Hunter remarked, grinning.

  Brock laughed. “You’re right about that.”

  Cy was out in the yard working with Burt. He’d set up a small obstacle course at the one end of the yard and was putting the big dog through his paces. When he saw Brock and Hunter, he stopped and made Burt sit as they walked over to him.

  “Cyrus Decker, meet our new deputy, Hunter Stetson. No relation to the hat company,�
�� Brock said.

  Cy looked the boy over. “Even if I didn’t already know you’re from Texas, I’d have been able to tell right away.”

  “How?” Hunter asked, thinking it a strange greeting.

  “It’s in the way you hold yourself. You can’t help it. You learned it by emulating the other men in your family who do it, too,” Cy said. “Nothing wrong with it. It’s just distinctive. German Shepherd.”

  Hunter shook his head. “German Shepherd? Is that code for something?”

  Brock chuckled. “No. Cy is dog crazy and thinks about people in dog breeds. Ellie is a Jack Russell terrier, Rob is a blood hound, and now you’re a German Shepherd.”

  Hunter had never heard anything so strange and he wasn’t sure that he liked being equated with a canine, but he didn’t say so. “Oh. I see. So what are you, Brock?”

  “I’m not anything. He hasn’t come up with a breed for me yet.”

  Cy said, “I finally figured out why. It’s because you’re not a dog at all. You’re a cat. A big yellow tabby who walks up and down an alley, yowling his head off and annoying the hell out of everyone in hearing distance.”

  Hunter guffawed while Brock scowled at Cy whose grin gave way to laughter. Brock was getting used to Cy’s dry sense of humor. However, Cy’s expressions were so fierce most of the time that it seemed impossible for him to grin or laugh, so it was always a little shocking when he did.

  Cy whistled and his office door opened. Slink and Pudge came trotting over to meet the newcomer. He gave Burt permission to do the same.

  Hunter said, “I can see why you’d have the two big ones working with you, but why the little one? Doesn’t seem like he can do much to help bring someone down.”

  “Pudge is a Japanese Pug, a very expensive breed. He’s also very smart. Annoyingly smart, sometimes. He’s also solid muscle and can bite harder than you’d think he can. He rarely gives up on something he starts, either. He’s chewed me out of a few ropes before and he can get in tight places the other two can’t.”

  Cy gave Pudge the signal to start his repertoire of tricks. Hunter laughed as Pudge pirouetted, rolled over, and sat up on his hind legs. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back on the ground with Cy’s forearm across his throat.

  “He’s also real good at providing a distraction so I can get the drop on crooks,” Cy said.

  Cy released Hunter and helped him up.

  Hunter said, “I stand corrected.” He looked warily at Cy as he dusted himself off.

  Brock said, “Don’t feel bad, Hunter. He did the same thing to me and Ellie.”

  Hunter frowned at Cy. “You did that to a woman? That’s not right. You oughta be more respectful of her.”

  Cy and Brock laughed.

  “Don’t let her hear you say that,” Brock said. “She hates it when we treat her any differently than a male deputy. And you don’t want her to hit you. She’s small but mighty and fast with her fists. That’s why we call her Jabs.”

  “Really? Hmm. Rob said that he had a woman deputy, but I thought maybe she did mainly secretarial type stuff,” Hunter said.

  “Nope. In fact, she’s out on patrol right now. When she gets back, I’ll take you and show you around town,” Cy said.

  Hunter would’ve rather gone with Brock, but he wasn’t about to argue. There was something unsettling about Cy, never mind the fact that he’d just put him on his ass. Cy had a predatory air about him that reminded him of …

  “A wolf,” he said. “You remind me of a wolf.”

  Cy smiled. “Very good, kid. You catch on fast. Assigning dog breeds to someone is actually useful.”

  “How so?”

  “It gives you insight into their personality. What their strengths and weaknesses are. My cousin Johnny is a golden retriever; loyal, friendly, and eager to please, especially where women are concerned.”

  “So what does me being a German Shepherd say about my personality?” Hunter asked.

  “You like a lot of physical activity and you’re dangerous when provoked. You’re good-natured for the most part, but when you’re threatened or someone you love is, you’ll rip your foe apart or die trying in order to protect those you care about. You’re also highly intelligent and have a good work ethic. Plus, they’re a handsome animal. That about right?” Cy asked.

  Hunter shook his head. “Yeah. That’s spot on. Especially the handsome part.”

  “See, Brock. Doing that is useful. You should try it sometime,” Cy said.

  “Nah, I’ll leave that to you,” Brock said. “Well, I better get back in there so no one breaks our prisoner out. I’ll get you set up at the other desk, Hunter.”

  Cy smiled to himself as the new deputy followed Brock. This was going to be fun.

  Chapter Twenty

  A few nights after Daphne and Brock had become engaged, Johnny went over to Wheels’ place to talk to him about starting work on his next special project. His wounds weren’t as painful and his restlessness was getting worse.

  After his friendship with Ray had disintegrated, he’d fallen into a funk, but that day he’d decided that it was time to get on with things. Dory wasn’t coming back. It was time he faced it and moved on. The same with what had happened with Ray. He needed something else to focus on and beginning to work on his project was something positive he could do.

  Arriving at the Ellis residence, Johnny rode around the main house to the carriage house in the back where Wheels lived. He dismounted slowly and went to the door, ringing the doorbell. He heard it chime inside. In response, the little bell beside the door on the outside jingled, indicating that Wheels was either busy or not in his chair and unable to answer the door.

  Wheels and his father had rigged up an intricate bell system and there was a string in every room in the carriage house that was connected to the little bell. There was also a bell system connected to the main house in case Wheels needed help and couldn’t get to his telephone to call over on his extension. He tried to be as independent as possible and the fact that he and his father were excellent engineers and inventors helped in that area.

  Going inside, Johnny received a huge shock at seeing Wheels standing by the sink in the little kitchen. There appeared to be some sort of apparatus around Wheels’ legs and hips.

  “What the heck?”

  “Hey, Johnny.”

  “Hi. How are you doing that?”

  “Very carefully.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny.”

  Joining Wheels at the sink, Johnny looked him over. “You kinda look like you’re in a cage. What’s all that made of?”

  “Well, part of it is from an old suit of armor that Skeeter had out at her place. Daddy found it and brought it home. When he saw it, he got the idea to use it to kinda give me legs. The fella who must’ve worn the outfit must have been a scrawny little guy, though. We couldn’t get my legs in them. That was funny to see. We laughed the whole time we tried,” Wheels said.

  Johnny laughed just picturing it. “I would have, too. So how’d you put it all together?”

  Wheels went on to explain how they’d used rivets, bolts, and leather belts to essentially make a support system for his whole lower body. They’d used a lot of the material from the suit of armor, but they’d had to supplement it with other metal and immobilize the knee joint to keep them strait. The strange equipment came up slightly higher than his waist, immobilizing his hips so that they didn’t buckle.

  Johnny scratched his head. “You look like something from the future.”

  “Funny you should mention that. Daddy and I are gonna work on perfecting it and he filed for a patent. Can you imagine how much something like this could help people like me? Getting the patent will be easy, but getting someone to manufacture it will be tough. We’re gonna try like hell, though.”

  Johnny nodded. “It would be a great help to them, but how are you actually walking? I can see how they help you stand, but how can you move your legs if you can’t feel them?”

&nb
sp; Wheels pointed to a leather loop on the outside of each thigh. “Allow me to demonstrate. I’ve been practicing hard. I’ve landed on my face a lot, but I’m getting better. The problem is that once I’m down, getting back up is almost impossible unless I’m near something I can use to flip myself over with so I can unstrap it. Don’t be alarmed if I get off kilter. If I get in real trouble I’ll let you know.”

  “Ok. Where’s Ollie?”

  Wheels pointed to a place above the cupboards. “He won’t come near me when I’m in this.”

  Johnny saw the Capuchin monkey crammed between the cupboards and the ceiling. “Aw, he’s scared. C’mere, Ollie. It’s ok. Nothing to be afraid of.”

  Ollie’s amber eyes flicked back and forth rapidly from Wheels to Johnny. He grimaced at Wheels and let out a grunt of disapproval. Johnny pulled a piece of wasna out of his coat pocket.

  “Look what I got, Ollie.”

  The handsome, furry primate dropped down onto the counter for a couple of seconds, but as soon as Wheels moved, he jumped back on top of the cupboards.

  “Boy, he really doesn’t like that thing, does he?” Johnny said.

  “Nope. I’ll show you how this works and then take it off. I’ve been in it for a couple of hours and I’m starting to get tired. You have no idea how good it feels to stand, though. And to be able to take a leak like this. That’s something most guys take for granted. Anyway, here goes.”

  Using the straps on his thighs, Wheels was able to shuffle forward a little at a time. He pulled up on the strap, lifting his leg and repositioning it a little ahead of him. Then he repeated the process with the other leg. It was slow going, but Wheels didn’t care. He was walking and that was all that mattered. He’d take shuffling while upright over not being able to do it at all.

  Johnny watched him closely, but not because he was worried about Wheels. He studied how the apparatus worked, thinking about how to improve it.

  Once they made it to the parlor, Johnny said, “Your real problem is balance. The structure is sound as far as support, but if you had better balance, you could walk faster with less effort.”