Wilde Side

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Wilde Side Page 12

by Jannine Gallant


  Walton glanced from Devin to Sawyer. “You’re going to Vermont to visit Devin’s folks? I thought you two were staying here.”

  Sawyer shrugged. “A quick trip before she heads back to work.”

  Square teeth gleamed in a broad smile. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves up in the boonies, probably feel right at home.”

  “I’m sure I will, too.”

  “Is leaving here in” —Devin glanced at her watch— “a half hour when the limo arrives going to screw you up? Maybe we could delay—”

  “No, I can swing it, but I do need to go talk to Jon. He can handle everything on this end for me.”

  Relief slid through her. “Good.” She followed Sawyer as he headed back toward the rafts.

  He stopped and turned. “You need to get off that foot.”

  “In a minute. You don’t want to tell Walton what we suspect about Liam Kennedy?”

  He shook his head. “My godfather would blow a gasket, and what if we’re wrong? Can you imagine what Kennedy would slide into his story if that were the case? Paranoia reigns supreme in the Hinsdale camp.”

  She shuddered. “Liam would crucify him. Then Syd would kill me for letting it happen.”

  Sawyer lowered his voice. “If that little weasel, Kennedy, was planning anything before, he won’t be able to follow through now that we’ll be on the flight with them. Don’t stress over this.”

  “I’ll try not to. And the second we get to Washington, I’ll dump the whole problem in Syd’s lap. He’ll acquire a couple of Secret Service agents to keep an eye on our boss, pronto.”

  “That’s the best plan. While we’re up in Vermont, maybe we can use some of our free time to dig into Kennedy’s background, see if he has a reason for wanting Walton dead. If the Internet turns up anything interesting that gives him a motive, then we can go to the authorities with what we suspect.” At the sound of a rumbling engine, he turned and swore. “Damn, there’s the freaking limo. He must have driven like a bat out of hell to get here this fast. If Walton gets antsy, tell him I need a half hour to go over details with Jon before we take off.”

  “Will do.” She hesitated then let the happiness filling her slip out in a smile. “I’m glad I’m not driving away without you right now.”

  The look in his eyes turned her insides to mush.

  “I’m glad, too.”

  * * * *

  “Wow, it’s beautiful here.” Sawyer waved a hand toward the maple and elm, thick on either side of the dirt road, as he slowed the compact rental car to avoid a deep rut. “I can’t believe you left this to move to the city.”

  “In Iowa, cows outnumber people by a million to one. In Vermont, it’s trees.” Devin let out a sigh as a small log cabin came into view. “What can I say, I enjoy civilization.”

  “A million to one? Really?” He raised a brow as he pulled in beside a battered pickup that might once have been red but was now faded to shades of pink between patches of orange rust.

  “Maybe a slight exaggeration…at least on the cow count. As for the trees, I’m sticking to my number.”

  Sawyer grinned at her across the center console. “You could be right.”

  After turning off the engine, he opened the car door and stepped out. A gust of wind swirled through the trees, sending leaves showering to the ground in a patchwork of colors that matched the old truck. As he turned to shut the door, a black and white blur of movement caught his attention. The shape morphed into a dog—or maybe a miniature horse—galloping full-tilt through the woods, gaining more speed each time its massive feet hit the ground.

  Devin stepped forward, braced herself against the front bumper of the car then held out both hands. “Easy, boy!”

  Either the dog didn’t hear…or wasn’t big on following orders. As he skidded to a stop, paws came up to smack against her chest. Devin landed on her back against the hood of the car with a solid thud. A long, slobbery tongue licked her face as she tried to fend off the beast.

  “I love you, too, Tiny. Stop. Stop!”

  Sawyer grinned when the dog whined and whimpered and quivered with apparent joy but didn’t quit bathing her face. “Need some help?”

  With both arms covering her head, her reply was garbled. “He’ll stop in a minute or two.”

  “You sure?”

  “Enough, Tiny. Down, boy!”

  After a couple more licks, he finally backed away. While Devin struggled upright, the massive Great Dane turned his attention on Sawyer. A gleam lit his brown eyes.

  “Oh, no you don’t!”

  When the dog jumped, Sawyer dodged left. With a few defensive maneuvers he’d learned in karate class as a kid, he avoided the flying paws as the dog leaped and bounced.

  “Down! Get down!”

  Tiny finally gave up and ran over to lean against Devin. She rubbed his ears and grinned like a fool. Sawyer couldn’t help wishing she’d work up the same amount of enthusiasm for him.

  “Sorry about that.”

  He scowled. “You don’t act sorry.”

  Her smile broadened. “You did look pretty funny dancing the tango with my dog.”

  “You’re sure he’s not a funny-looking moose?”

  “I’m sure. He’s—” She stopped speaking, and another smile spread as a man and woman hurried toward them out of the woods.

  “Devin!” The woman enfolded her in a tight hug, while the man patted her back.

  “Your mom and I didn’t know you were here until Tiny took off like a bat out of hell.” He turned and held out his hand. “I’m Crosby Lockhart, Devin’s dad.”

  Sawyer shook the extended palm in a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, sir. Sawyer Wilde.”

  “Please, call me Crosby. We don’t hold on formality around here.”

  Devin’s mother finally released her and turned with a smile. There was a family resemblance in the fine features, blue eyes and blond hair, though her mother’s hung down her back in a long braid that was threaded with gray. “I’m Adelle. Pleased to meet you, Sawyer.” She shook his outstretched hand. “Bring your bags inside, and make yourself at home.”

  With Devin and Tiny flanking him, he followed the older Lockharts, who walked hand-in-hand toward the cabin, wondering if he’d stepped back into a previous decade. Devin’s father’s hair was nearly as long as her mother’s, but his braid was solid gray. He wore an open-necked woven shirt of shocking purple over a pair of faded jeans that had probably seen better days twenty years before. Her mother had on a long skirt of paisley print with a bright yellow top. Both wore work boots.

  “They’re the original Flower Children.” Devin’s voice was low.

  “Nothing wrong with having your own style.” He readjusted his grip on his bag when Tiny bumped into him. “And not one question about why I’m with you. You’ve gotta like that.”

  “They take ‘go with the flow’ to a whole new level. I was allowed to make my own choices—and mistakes—without judgment at an early age.” Devin slowed as they neared the house. “Dad nearly had a stroke when I told them I was moving to New York to go to college, but he didn’t try to talk me out of it.”

  “I like them already.”

  “Good. I do, too. Thanks for not judging.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  Apparently others had. He took Devin’s free hand and squeezed it before releasing her as they entered the cabin and stopped in the middle of the big room. A couch and two easy chairs faced a stone fireplace with a wood stove insert at one end, while the other half of the area held a small kitchen complete with a gate-legged table that would comfortably seat four. Two closed doors led to what he presumed were a bedroom and bath, and a steep staircase along the back wall gave access to a loft. A row of Siamese cats regarded him from their perch on the back of the couch. Blue eyes narrowed, and tails twitched. Tiny gave them a nervous glance, detouring wide to flop down on a rag rug before the c
oals glowing behind the stove’s glass window.

  Sawyer cleared his throat, wondering if there was a TV hidden somewhere. Or a computer. But then again, maybe her parents didn’t indulge in electronics if the old-fashioned rotary phone hanging on the wall was any indication. “Your home is…cozy.”

  “We enjoy it.” Adelle turned and waved toward the kitchen. “Did you have lunch yet? Can I make you something to eat?”

  “Thanks, Mom, but we stopped for sandwiches on the way up here.”

  She nodded. “We’re looking forward to hearing all about your rafting adventure, but we were in the middle of splitting wood when you arrived…”

  “The work will go faster with two extra hands.” On his way over to toss a couple of logs into the stove, Crosby frowned down at Devin’s flip flops. “I hope you brought some appropriate shoes, and you might want to change into long pants when you take your bags up to the loft.” He turned back and brushed his hands down the sides of his jeans. “How come your legs are all scratched up, honey?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you about it later, and yes, I have hiking boots in the car.”

  “Good. Go put them on, and then let’s get to work.” Her father headed out the door, and her mother followed with a final smile.

  Devin faced Sawyer with a wary look. “I guess we’re splitting wood this afternoon.”

  “Great. I could use the exercise after spending the last few hours in the car, but maybe you shouldn’t aggravate that ankle of yours.”

  “I haven’t even been limping today, and it doesn’t hurt much at all anymore. I think it was just strained not sprained.” Her brows knit. “Are you sure you don’t mind a little hard labor?”

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. “Not in the least. Relax.”

  She nodded then rested her cheek against his chest. “Thanks.”

  “Nothing to thank me for. I’m looking forward to the next couple of days of seeing what makes you tick.”

  “Not chopping wood, that’s for sure.”

  He grinned against her hair. “I don’t know. I bet the heart of a pioneer still beats somewhere deep within you. After seeing the total city girl side of you this morning in your DC apartment, I’m a little relieved.”

  She pulled back, glanced up at him, then rolled her eyes. “Hauling logs is not going to make me want to return to my roots. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  He dropped a kiss on her upturned lips. “We’re here together. That’s enough for now.”

  Chapter 11

  Devin frowned at her phone’s screen. “From what I can tell, Liam Kennedy grew up in a small town in Illinois and attended college at the University of Chicago. He went to work in his current position for Political Spotlight three years ago after quitting his job as a reporter for the Chicago Tribune.”

  “Is that when he moved to DC?”

  She glanced up at Sawyer and shrugged. “I would assume so. From what I can tell, he doesn’t have any ties whatsoever to Walton. His political affiliation seems to lean right, but even if he disagreed with the congressman’s more middle of the road stand on issues, that isn’t reason enough to try to kill him, is it?”

  He slid closer to her on the edge of the bed until their thighs touched. “Not if you have all your marbles accounted for. Does Kennedy have any history of mental illness?”

  A tingle shot through her at the contact with his muscled leg. Not that she was going to start something in the open loft with her parents sleeping right below them. “Uh, I know my way around the Internet, but I can’t hack into his medical records, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like he’s a public figure with his history splashed all over cyberspace.”

  “What about the other presidential contenders? Could he be working for one of them to eliminate the competition?”

  “Since I’d bet Kennedy is a straight conservative, let’s check the Republican candidate first.”

  Sawyer slid his arm around her waist. “Senator Cunningham seems like a standup dude. Hard to believe he’d sanction murder.”

  “Someone working on his campaign might not be so squeamish. You never know.” She typed on her phone and tried to ignore the big hand cupping her hip. “The senator is from Tennessee, so Kennedy didn’t grow up next door to the guy. Hmm, his twin daughters are around Liam’s age…” Her fingers scrolled. “Hey, one of them, Janette, attended the University of Chicago and graduated the same year Liam did.”

  The hand that had crept up to just below her breast stilled. “Maybe they dated in college. Is Janette married?”

  “Divorced. I’ll call Syd in the morning. He knows people who can dig a whole lot deeper into Kennedy’s connections than I can using my cell phone. I wouldn’t even have that basic essential if the neighbors over the hill hadn’t put in a tower last year.” She laid her cell on the nightstand. “At least we found a place to start.”

  Sawyer frowned. “Kennedy stayed clear of the congressman on the plane ride back to DC, but since I made sure I didn’t fall sleep, he didn’t have an opportunity to try anything.”

  “You must be exhausted.” She squeezed his arm. “After getting no rest last night and chopping a cord of wood today, I’m surprised you kept your eyes open through dinner.”

  “A half a cord, maybe. I could barely keep pace with your dad.” He smothered a yawn. “Yeah, I’m tired.”

  “Then, let’s go to bed.”

  His eyes brightened.

  A smile curved her lips. “To sleep.”

  “What fun is that? By the time we got to your apartment after the flight east, we barely had time to shower, change, wash a load of laundry and repack before heading to the airport again. The night before, I was playing guard dog to Walton, so we haven’t—”

  “No walls.”

  His brows shot up. “Huh?”

  “I’m not going to get naked and crazy with you in an open loft when my mom or dad could easily walk out of their room to use the bathroom or get a glass of water or something and hear us.”

  “They obviously didn’t think our sharing sleeping quarters was a big deal. In fact, they expected it.”

  “My parents aren’t living in a fantasy world where their twenty-nine-year-old daughter is still a virgin, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable having sex within earshot of them.”

  “Fine.” His grumble was cut off by another yawn. “We’ll just sleep.” Standing, he pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it on the floor next to Tiny, who took up most of the space not occupied by the bed. His jeans, socks and boxers followed.

  Eye level with the evidence that he hadn’t given up all hope for a round of lovemaking, Devin drew in a hissing breath.

  “What?” The knowing look in his eyes belied the innocence of his tone. “I didn’t pack pajamas. I don’t own pajamas. I promise to be good.”

  He was good, all right. Very good. Too good for her peace of mind.

  Pulling back the covers, he crawled around her and slid into bed then plumped up the pillow and tucked one arm behind his head. The sheet rode low across his six-pack abs and tented distractingly.

  Slowly she stood, stepped over her dog then rummaged for a nightgown in her open suitcase. Feeling like a performer at a strip club, she unbuttoned the sweater she’d changed into after showering earlier. His gaze riveted to her chest as she dropped the sweater on the foot of the bed. When she unfastened her bra and pulled it off, he swallowed audibly in the silence.

  “You’re just torturing yourself, you know.”

  His eyes glazed. “It’s a good torture.”

  She pulled the nightgown on over her head before removing her pants.

  “Spoilsport.”

  Raising her hand to hide a grin, she flipped off the lights then climbed into bed. A hard-muscled arm wrapped around her to draw her back against his chest. They spooned together like a matched set of silver without a hint of space to separate them.

  When Tiny jumped up
on the bed and circled before plopping down, Sawyer grunted. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Devin grinned. “Hey, you’re in his spot.”

  “He’s lying on my leg. It’s falling asleep—which is more than I’ll be doing.”

  “Fine.” She couldn’t hold back a snicker. “Get down, Tiny.” When her dog didn’t move, she sat up and gave him a shove.

  Tiny groaned but finally jumped down. The floor shook when he landed.

  “Damn furry moose,” Sawyer grumbled.

  She lay back down and settled against him. Finally, all the tension coiled tight inside her since clinging for her life to a prickly bush on the side of a cliff unwound as she let herself relax completely. “I needed this. Time away from Washington and the stress of the campaign. I’ve made up my mind I intend to leave my position with Walton after the election.”

  “Yeah?” His arms tightened.

  She nodded, and her head brushed against his chin. “I’m not sure what I’ll do for work, but it won’t be in politics. I’ll start putting out feelers in the art community to see what’s available.”

  “Would it kill you to look out west?”

  “No. I’m not absolutely set on staying on the East Coast. Ainslee moved to California. Maybe I will, too.” She sighed and blinked, exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. “San Francisco is a beautiful city. I could see myself living there.”

  “It’s a hell of a lot closer to Wyoming than Washington, I suppose.”

  “I’m too tired to think about it right now. The election is still over a month away. I have time to figure it out.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, it’s at least a step in the right direction.”

  “I hope so.” She turned in his arms. “Good night, Sawyer.”

  His lips lowered to hers in a kiss that made her wonder why she shouldn’t just toss all her dreams aside to stay with him. Surely it would be worth it, even if she would go crazy on an isolated Wyoming ranch, snowbound all winter… Blocking out the disturbing image, she put her heart and soul into the kiss.

  He responded with enthusiasm, the prod against her stomach growing more insistent. “Are you sure you don’t want to…”

 

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