by Rhea Regale
The officer waved her quiet. “Causin’ a scene out here—”
Brianna smacked her hands on the countertop. “I am absolutely not causin’—”
“You might want to get a handle on this one—”
“You’re lyin’!” Brianna fisted her hands, disbelief revving up her heartbeat. Anger stirred thick in her belly as she stepped back. The officer straightened up, a hint of a grin crossing her glossed lips. Brianna huffed, her arms stiff by her sides, her brow pinched as she tried to streamline her thoughts to keep her from getting into trouble. Nothing going through her head would make her any friends at the moment. As it stood, she had a few extra eyes turn to her. “Ma’am, I want to speak with—”
“Miss Cabot, I’m well aware of who you are,” the officer said.
“Well that was rude,” Brianna said through gritting teeth.
“Martha, quit it,” Rylan scolded, appearing in the doorway that led to the desk. He leaned up against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. Despite the sour ending to their last encounter, seeing the man after Jackson’s proposal instantly soothed her tense muscles. Her mouth went dry. The heat that flooded her face and the anger that churned in her belly subsided. Rylan’s shuttered expression left her guessing whether she made the wrong decision to come here, but her body sure as hell enjoyed the view. “Good mornin’, Miss Cabot. What can I do for you?”
Brianna moistened her lips, avoiding the woman’s humored gaze, and grabbed the coffees off the counter. “I wanted to speak with you about yesterday.”
She had never met a man whose gaze could peel away every layer of clothing from her body, maybe a layer or two of skin, and make her feel so open and vulnerable like Rylan.
And so damn hot.
Brianna shifted, a whispering ache rising between her legs. Her stomach fluttered in tempo with her heart. Rylan nodded and rolled off the doorframe, appearing a moment later to let her in through the half door.
“Follow me,” he said, leading her away from the absurd woman at the front desk. On a short glance, she caught Martha smirking before she disappeared into a separate office. Brianna followed behind Rylan, feeling eyes on her as they moved by the cubicles and desks. Her gaze dropped to the fine ass encased in dark-green pants, leading down to muscled thighs that pressed against the fabric with each confident step. Rylan’s backside was something she could look at all day while she imagined what those handcuffs glinting through the opening in the case could be used for. The gun on his belt definitely suited him well, and he wore it like it was an extension of a body.
Rylan stepped through the last door on the far wall and allowed her to pass. He closed the door, the soft click ramping up her anxiety.
“My apologies for Martha’s behavior. She enjoys rattlin’ cages, especially mine,” Rylan said, brushing by her. His nearness left her weak in the knees and her nostrils stained with the pleasant scent of his cologne. “I’ll have a word with her.”
She followed Rylan to his desk. “That’s not necessary. I don’t want to cause any problems.”
He straightened up the files that were spread out over his blotter. “You’re gonna cause problems bringin’ coffee to the sheriff and no one else. Those guys out there have nothin’ better to do than start wild rumors around this office.”
“Who said I brought this coffee for you?” Brianna teased. Rylan paused in his cleaning and arched a brow. She placed his cup on the desk. “Hope I can call a truce between us.”
“Truce?” Rylan rounded the desk, placing the bulky piece of furniture between them. “I didn’t realize there was a need for a truce.”
Brianna bit her bottom lip and looked around the office, trying to get a grip on the misplaced attraction this man elicited.
“I was out of line yesterday. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”
“I’m not a man of grudges. I don’t dwell on words. Miss Cabot.” The rich roll of her name off his lips drew her attention, shaking her resolve. The look he pinned her with stole her breath. “Life is way too short to waste on trivial things.”
Rylan motioned to the chair alongside his desk. “Sit down. I’m sure there’s more to this visit than coffee.”
Clutching her coffee cup in both hands, Brianna took his invitation and settled into the rigid chair. She really needed to get her gall back if she had any hopes of making this deal for Gregory. Time was ticking, and she was watching the clock with no evidence of coming closer to the prize.
The faster she got this done, the faster she would get her promotion and be able to start focusing on more pleasurable things, such as Jackson and Rylan.
She sipped the hot drink, never taking her eyes off Rylan as he peeled off the lid on his cup.
“Did you want to discuss the property you’re seekin’?” Rylan asked.
“Would you be open to discussin’ it?”
Rylan tried a sip of the coffee and nodded. A shadow of a smile touched his lips and he caught her eyes. “Who told you how I like my coffee?”
Brianna smiled. “Miss Bess.”
“Ah. Of course she did.”
“She seems to be the know-all of Ryder.”
Rylan laughed, lounging back in his chair. His smile was stunning, captivating every molecule of her body and holding her captive. A single dimple appeared in his left cheek. His eyes crinkled at the corners, enhancing his soul-snatching gaze. He shook his head and drank from his cup. Brianna relaxed, if only a smidgen. She perched an elbow on the edge of his desk.
“My aunt knows everythin’ about everybody,” Rylan confirmed.
“Miss Bess’s your aunt?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure you’re wonderin’ why I call her ‘Miss Bess’ instead of aunt. She’s the mother hen to us Ryder boys. Never had children of her own, but she took us terrors under her wings. She addressed herself as ‘Miss Bess’ all our lives, to us, to her guests, and the title stuck. She is a know-all. She’s also the go-to woman in Ryder. She knows everyone, everyone knows her, and they know they can rely on her for anythin’. It’s people like Bess who make towns like this unique and quaint.” The smile faded from his lips, but his eyes continued to hold a hint to the life-loving man Miss Bess portrayed of him. “I’m sure Jackson told you about my family. Generation after generation of Ryders have kept this town alive. We’d be doin’ a disservice to our ancestors to abandon it.”
“Rylan, I’m not askin’ you, or your family, to abandon your town,” Brianna started.
“Listen to me, Miss Cabot—”
“Brianna, please.”
Rylan held her gaze steady for a long, heart-pounding moment. Time might’ve slowed, she couldn’t be sure, but her thoughts came to a halt. Rylan became the only being of her focused attention, as did his encouraging words in those moments she thought she was dying. Jackson opened a door last night, one she was scared to death to cross. He read her as clear as crystal, knew she held something for the sheriff, and offered them a chance to invite Rylan into their relationship.
“You okay?”
Brianna blinked the haze from her eyes. Rylan’s arm stretched toward her, and when she looked down, he was holding her coffee cup upright. Occasional ripples swept along the top of the drink, a giveaway to her trembling fingers.
“Brianna.”
Oh. My. God.
Her name rolled off his tongue smooth, silky, filled with a raw edge of command. This man had a voice that raked down her body like the teasing scrape of teeth and nails in the throes of foreplay. Each letter of her name spoken in his deep, sexual husk flicked along her pussy, a phantom tongue playing across her clit.
Miss Cabot. Call me Miss Cabot again.
Brianna carefully placed her cup on an empty section of his desk and loosened the scarf around her neck. She worked up a forced smile, cleared her throat, and nodded.
“I’m fine. Probably just some aftereffects of medication and the surgery and whatnot.” She flicked her hand in a nonchalant fashion and unbuttoned
her coat. She laughed, shrugging out of the insulating item. “As we were sayin’.”
Rylan’s penetrating gaze didn’t lighten up, even as he eased back into his chair, perched his elbows on the arms, and folded his hands below his chin. His index fingers tapped together, a subtle furrow creasing his left brow. No matter what, this man knew how to wear every expression in the sexiest way.
“You’re still pressin’ the topic, are you? As I was about to say, there will be no further discussion. Colt and I own that property jointly. If I am not willin’ to sell, it won’t be sold. And I’ll tell you this much. You think I’m bein’ stubborn, wait ’til you confront Colt. This is a dead end for you. I’m sorry about your promotion, but your motivations do not align with mine. Ryder is a town rooted in our ancestry. We’re country folk. Farmers, ranchers, rodeo competitors, cattle herders. We have absolutely no interest in promoting a five-star resort and spa in conjunction with the ranch. That is not what this town represents.”
Balling up her courage, she placed together her business ego and took to a dangerous tactic. “I understand Colt might be facin’ civil charges in the murder—”
“I’m sorry, I’m not discussin’ that with you.” Hot to cold, like a damn switch. Rylan rolled his chair to her with a single, strong kick against the floor. One fluid twist, he had his legs on either side of hers, hands wrapped tightly around the metal arms of her chair, and he leaned closer to her. Brianna kept her shoulders straight, but her blood was threatening to melt through her veins and leak into her body. Nothing about Rylan offered comfort or kindness as he hovered close. Everything about him was wild, raw, a predator with his eyes on his prey. The fine line of threat and passion blended.
Jackson said he was a passionate man. If this is what he brings to bed, god help me.
“You have no business castin’ assumptions about my cousin’s predicament when you can’t even get the facts about your promotion-promisin’ deal right. You toss another sucker punch like that, Miss Cabot, and I will chase you out of this town faster than a bull in an arena ever could. Do I make myself clear?”
Oh he did, except for the slip of his gaze lowering to her mouth that turned up the heat between them to an explosive degree. She fought to keep each breath steady and even, praying he didn’t notice the frantic thumping of her heart that filled her own ears and hit her chest wall so viciously she thought her sweater was thumping in time. She held her ground, challenging him as he held tight to the chair. Slowly, she leaned into him, bringing her face dangerously close to his. Her knees fell open, resting against the insides of his powerful thighs. She watched his pupils expand, swallowing the amber-brown of his eyes. His nostrils flared and his breath hitched.
Brianna folded her hands around the arms of her chair, her fingers reinforcing Rylan’s grip. “You’re threatenin’ me, Sheriff. I don’t take lightly to bein’ threatened.” She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Would this be considered a form of restraint? I thought restrainin’ a person without probable cause was illegal.”
“This is nothin’, Brianna.”
No longer formal? He tipped his head, his cheek brushing so close to her own. With his lips a breath from her ear, he whispered, “Don’t pursue the deal. You will not win against me. I do not lose.”
She fought to keep her eyelids from drooping. His soft strands of hair caressed her forehead, her temple, and her cheek. His fingers stiffened beneath hers. His shallow breaths teased the misfiring nerves in her body. Her pussy was pulsing, soaking wet with arousal. Every small inhalation brought her nipples to harder peaks as they rubbed against the lacy bra.
“You do not want me as your enemy, Miss Cabot.”
Brianna pressed her lips together, running her tongue along the dry seam. She needed to leave before this fell right off the cliff into a darker world of desire.
“No, Sheriff. I do not, but I don’t think I’ll ever be an enemy.” She pressed into him, a motion that shook her resolve to the core and left her placing her toes through Jackson’s open door. She aligned her mouth to his ear and added, “You don’t hate me. You couldn’t hate me.”
With a gentle arch of her back, she pressed to her feet. Her breasts slid against his shoulder and arm before he finally sat back. Rylan followed her with those eyes, a starved creature fighting every desire to tear through proper restraints and give into some deep-seated carnal calling. A light blush colored his cheeks.
She picked up her coat and scarf and draped them over her arm. She couldn’t help but steal a glance at the prominent bulge in his pants. He wants you. Jackson’s words couldn’t ring more true after this heady encounter. She dragged her gaze along Rylan’s uniform encased thigh to his knee. He took his time tucking his booted foot under his chair, allowing her a narrow space to squeeze out from. She sidled out of the tight enclosure and, keeping each step steady, headed toward the door. Rylan’s intense stare at her back pierced through her sweater and her skin, and coiled around every muscle and organ in her body, feeding her chaotic signals.
“Jackson didn’t disconnect the call when you returned to unlock the cuffs.” She grabbed the doorknob and added, “I heard everythin’ you said.”
She slipped out of the office without another word. Eyes followed her as she made her way through the small office packed with cubicles and desks. Chin up, shoulders back, she let herself out through the half door, ignored Martha’s inquisitive stare, and escaped the boiling station into the cold morning air.
The minute she locked herself in her car with the engine purring, every single cemented cell that built her confident composure crumbled away. Her legs trembled, her foot unsteady on the brake. Her arms quaked despite how hard she clung to the steering wheel. Her breasts damn near hurt. Her pussy seared. If she wasn’t sitting in the parking lot of the sheriff’s department, she’d be stripped down and taking care of that ache herself.
Whenever this encounter crossed that line from business to pleasure, she couldn’t quite remember. Maybe when he spoke her name. Was it when he greeted her at the front desk? Was it pleasure from the beginning and only escalated?
To taste the fiery hunger that man held inside his soul. To submit to his wild desires, the ones she sensed in his every deliberate movement, each soft-spoken word. To have Jackson offer her that opportunity, offer her a taboo chance to experience two men at once…
“I’m in serious trouble.”
Chapter Eleven
“Christmas Eve is a week and a half away, Brianna. You’re nowhere near getting a contract signed that’ll secure land for my resort,” Gregory said. Brianna folded her arm around her chest, tucking her fist under her biceps. She stared out the window of her room, refusing to get lost in the beauty of the newly fallen snow over the orchards. “Did I make a mistake keeping you on this?”
“No, Gregory. I’ll get that contract signed. Colton Ryder is almost done with nationals, and when he returns, I’ll be sittin’ down with him and havin’ a very long discussion about all the benefits that will come along with havin’ this resort close by,” Brianna said, refraining from allowing her doubt sneak into her voice. “I’m goin’ to go into town today and ask some questions of the locals. See what they think about the idea. I’m gonna need some solid support if this is goin’ to work.”
“Brianna, this will work if you use the right tactics. Give Ryder the best you can and you’ll have his ink on paper without a problem. I have the architect and construction crew on call. I want this thing up and running a year from this coming spring. Any more delay and I’m going to start falling behind.”
“I understand. I’ll have it.”
“Good. Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
Brianna ended the call, fisted the cell in her hand, and pressed the warm plastic to her forehead. Each day that passed left her bereft. She was no closer to closing this deal than she had been in Nashville. That promotion she could taste a week and a half ago had turned bitter and ashen on her tongue. To complic
ate matters, her focus drifted away from securing property for Gregory and settled on more distracting fantasies that included Jackson and Rylan.
To make things more difficult, Jackson seemed to have lost interest in helping her secure this promotion. Well, if he wasn’t going to help her, she’d do it on her own.
“Enough playin’ around. Time to get to work,” she muttered to the frost-coated glass panes. She tossed her phone on the bed, snatched up her coat and scarf, and headed out for a morning on the town.
“Mornin’ dearie. Headin’ out so fast?” Miss Bess greeted. Brianna wrapped her scarf around her neck, bouncing down the last few stairs, and smiled at the pleasant woman. As usual, Miss Bess was dotted with flour from her latest kitchen creation, her dishrag slung over her shoulder, and her apron snug around her waist. Her graying hair was pulled back in the usual bun.
“Yes. I have to go into town and check some things out,” Brianna said, slipping into her coat. She buttoned up while adding, “If Jackson stops by, tell him I’ll be back in an hour or so. I’ve left my phone upstairs.”
“Would you like some coffee to take with you? That cold’ll bite through to your bones,” Miss Bess said, not waiting for an answer before heading back to the kitchen. “Hot coffee will keep you warm. Be sure to stop over at Martin’s, the small diner at the edge of town. Tell’im Miss Bess sent you and he’ll fill up your cup.”
Brianna tugged her gloves on and scooped out her rental keys as she waited for Miss Bess to return. Another couple made their way down the stairs, geared up for the winter day. They greeted her as they passed and disappeared through the front door. A chill hit the back of her neck and she shivered, pulling her scarf over the exposed flesh.
The kitchen door swung open. Miss Bess carried over a paper cup with a lid and handed it to Brianna.
“Thanks. Got a taste of the weather already. Definitely be needin’ this,” Brianna said, peeling back the perforated square on the lid. Steam curled out, warming the tip of her nose, and she inhaled the strong aroma.