by Rhea Regale
“Is that Carter?” she asked.
Sean pointed to the man with the gun. “You’re just going to stand there and let him threaten me with a firearm? I’m not armed!”
The second man leaned into her and said, “Yes, ma’am. Must’ve seen ya in trouble. Family’s family here. You don’t go messin’ with family.”
“I believe you were threatenin’ the young lady behind me,” Rylan responded, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. He didn’t move from his planted stance blocking Sean from her. Sean twisted away from Carter and gaped at Rylan.
“Is this how you control your town, officer?” Sean pulled his cell from the pocket of his coat and started punching in a number. “I’m going to call your superior and have you fired.”
Rylan chuckled. “Save yourself the hassle. I ain’t firin’ myself.”
Carter came a few feet closer and paused behind Sean. Brianna watched her ex’s pacing halt, his fury-filled eyes turning on Rylan.
“Now that we got that settled, you have two choices. I take you into custody for assault, or you leave in your pretty car there and I dare you to step foot back in my town,” Rylan said. “Next time, I won’t stop anyone from shootin’ you.”
A harsh slide-click of a shotgun reinforced Rylan’s promise. Brianna snapped her gaze to the doorway of the small shop where another man perched his firearm on his hip, the long barrel angled skyward. The older man to her right gave her a smile that lifted his white mustache from his bottom lip and crinkled his eyes to mere slits.
“City folk don’t get how we do thin’s in Ryder. Their laws ain’t got weight here,” he said in a low voice. He jabbed a finger at the air toward Rylan. “He’s the only one carryin’ any weight in these parts.”
Relief weakened her when Sean stormed off in a huff, giving wide berth to Carter on his way to the Mercedes. He threw Brianna a look that made her shrink into her coat, and then he dropped into the car, and took off.
Rylan didn’t move until Sean’s taillights were out of sight. Then, he spun and hurried to her, taking her shoulders and catching her eyes. The concern that lightened his eyes brought the quiver back to her chin. She quickly lifted her hand to hide the reaction her ex elicited from her.
“Did he hurt you?” Rylan asked. He brushed his fingertips along her jaw, easing her head one way, then the other. He pushed back the sleeve of her coat and examined the ring of pink around her wrist. Carter came up alongside him, gun still at his side. “Brianna?”
“I–I’m fine,” she said, her voice cracking. She sucked in a deep breath and a sob escaped her lips. Rylan cupped the side of her head and straightened up, pulling her into his chest. She clung to the edges of his coat. The hard cover of his bulletproof vest met her cheek. The security in his firm embrace gave her strength to stave off her tears and close her eyes.
“Get a plate?” Carter asked.
“In the system already. We’ll have to keep an eye out,” Rylan said, his voice filling her ear through the vest. “Who was he, Brianna?”
“My ex,” she said.
“Why’s he here?”
“He’s after my inheritance.” Brianna sniffled back the threatening tears and straightened up. She wiped away the moisture under her eyes, avoiding both Rylan’s and Carter’s gazes. “Pretty sure my mother added a nice bounty if he gets me down the aisle.”
“Here I thought my father was a fuckup,” Carter said. He lifted her chin with a quick slip of his finger. “We’ve got you, okay?” Carter glanced at Rylan, his silent implication evident. “We protect ours. I’ve faced worse people than that coward.”
The corner of her mouth twitched in a small grin. “Thank you.”
Carter clapped Rylan on the shoulder. “Summer’s waiting for me. Call me if you need anything, cuz.”
“Will do,” Rylan said. He tipped his hat toward the men still standing on either side of Brianna. “Thanks for steppin’ in, gentlemen. Appreciate it.” He pointed to the man in the doorway, who lowered his shotgun to the ground. “Good timin’.”
“Eh, give me an excuse to make noise,” the shop owner said with a wink. He disappeared inside the store.
“You take care of your girl, hear?” one of the men said, rubbing Brianna’s shoulder. “She’s a good one, she is.”
“She is,” Rylan agreed as the men walked off. Brianna licked her lips and dared to look up at the sheriff. “Are you done here?”
“If I wasn’t before, I am now,” Brianna admitted. She brushed aside loose strands of hair and hugged herself. “How did you know to come?”
“Saw the commotion in my rearview.” Something crossed through his eyes that brought Brianna to attention. The uncharacteristic shift from one foot to the other was enough to tell her something was off. “Caught Carter’s truck blockin’ off the road.”
“Were you watchin’ me, Sheriff?” she asked.
“I was waitin’ for you.”
His small confession worked a miracle on her mood. “Oh?”
Rylan groaned. “C’mon. Let me get you back to Miss Bess’s before your boyfriend has a meltdown.”
Even as he guided her with a hand on her lower back, she pointed down the street. “I have my car—”
“No you don’t.”
She stopped short of Rylan’s cruiser and faced him. “Yes. I do. It’s parked in front of that ice cream shop.”
“Was.” Rylan pulled open the passenger side door, but Brianna stood still, staring at him. Rylan wrapped his fingers around the doorframe and crossed his ankles, planting the toe of his boot on the pavement. “Miss Cabot.”
“What happened to Brianna?” She climbed into the warm interior and looked up as Rylan started to close the door.
“What happened to Rylan?” He closed the door and rounded the front of the cruiser. She had no interest in all the techy gadgets and computers, or the two shotguns in holders between the two seats. Rylan climbing behind the wheel of his cruiser demanded every millisecond of her attention. “I can play the game, too.”
“Are you flirtin’ with me, Sheriff?”
Rylan cast her a serious glance. “Are you interpretin’ this as flirtin’?”
“Not sure, but you don’t seem to be the game-playin’ type.”
“Hm.” Rylan popped the SUV into gear and pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road. “Might come off an abrasive asshole to those tryin’ to convince me I want to sell property that I don’t want to sell.”
“Oh boy,” Brianna groaned. She looked up at the ceiling of the vehicle. “I didn’t bring it up.”
“No.”
She lowered her chin and pointed to the upcoming ice cream shop. “I’m the little white car…” Brianna squinted. A red pickup was in her spot. She climbed to her knees, bracing her hand on the back of Rylan’s seat, and leaned toward his window, searching for her car. He didn’t even slow down. “Hey, where’s my car? Did someone steal my car? Rylan, stop!”
“Sit down. Don’t want some smartass I pull over for lack of a seat belt throwin’ your lack of a seat belt—in my own cruiser nonetheless—in my face.” He pressed her into her seat by her shoulder. “I had it towed.”
“You what?” Brianna gaped at Rylan. Had she just heard him right? “Really?” He nodded as serious as ever. She shoved his shoulder. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“Why?” She clenched her teeth and snarled, curling her fingers into her palms. “I wasn’t parked illegally!”
“No.”
She stomped the floor mat and twisted to Rylan. His serious expression cracked, starting at the corner of his eyes, followed by the ghost of a grin. She seethed. “I can’t believe you! Just drop me off wherever I have to get it from. I’m billin’ you, you hear?”
“Sure.”
“You think this is funny? You think your little one-word answers are gonna temper my anger?”
“‘I had it towed’ was four words, actually.”
“Stop the truck.” Brianna slung her purse o
ver her shoulder and grabbed the door handle. “Let me out before I knock you good.”
“I thought I told you that was assault on an officer.”
“And I thought I told you to stop the damn truck.”
Rylan nodded, guiding the cruiser to the side of the road. Brianna slid out of the warm vehicle and slammed the door shut behind her. She could see the old Victorian bed-and-breakfast looming up ahead and silently thanked her reasonable decision to wear her insulated snow boots for her venture.
She tipped her chin up, straightened her shoulders, and started down the street. A few feet later, the cruiser pulled up alongside her, passenger window rolled down. She refused to look at Rylan, keeping her eye on the snow drifts and snow-covered brush in her path.
“You know, it would be faster if you’d let me drive you,” Rylan said.
She hmphed and pressed ahead.
“Warmer, too.”
She flicked him her middle finger without as much as a twitch of her head in his direction.
“Miss Cabot, that’s not very ladylike.”
He paced her, the tires crunching over the hard-packed snow and chunks of ice. She stumbled in a drift, caught her balance, and continued.
“You wouldn’t have to worry about fallin’ if you’d stop bein’ stubborn and get back into the truck.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, keeping her march steady.
“That was pretty childish, wouldn’t you agree?”
Brianna scooped up a handful of snow, stopped walking, and heaved it through the open window. Rylan threw up his arms, but the snow smacked him against the side of his face, coating the brim of his hat, and falling down his coat. Brianna stifled a laugh that quickly died when he slammed the cruiser into park and jumped out of the vehicle.
“Oh shit,” she cussed, taking off along the sidewalk at a hampered run. Rylan gained on her without much effort, catching her around the waist and shoulders. He hoisted her off her feet and carried her back to the cruiser, kicking and shouting the entire way. He opened the back door and eased her onto the seat. She tried to lunge out of the door, but he closed it before she could right herself. A pull on the handle proved fruitless. The handles didn’t work from the inside of the backseat. “Sheriff!”
“Sit and be quiet,” Rylan demanded.
“Like hell, you bastard.” She reached around his seat and slapped his arm. He caught her fingers and trapped her hand between the console and his stronger fingers. She kicked the back of his seat. “I think you’re a little out of control.”
“Some might think so.”
“Abusin’ your authority.” She gauged the space between the two shotguns and started to climb into the front seat.
Rylan’s arm whipped up, blocking her attempt. He turned into the circular drive of Miss Bess’s place and pointed ahead of them. “Your car.”
Brianna stopped in mid struggle and followed his finger. Sure enough, her car was parked in her spot, looking like it never moved. She scrambled into the backseat and scooted toward the door.
“Out, Rylan. Now.”
Rylan cut the engine and climbed out of the cruiser. He opened her door, catching her as she bolted past him.
“I can’t believe you. And you called me childish? What the hell is this?” Brianna snapped. Her irritation was long gone, a playful giddiness breaking through the thin shell of fake anger. Rylan shoved her door closed, his mouth pulling up into a full smile. She couldn’t refrain from laughing, elbowing him in the gut. “Not what I was expectin’ from you.”
“It was a warnin’. Drop the deal and enjoy your time in Ryder.” Rylan laughed with her, tucking her mussed hair away from her face. The tender motion brought her to meet his gaze. “I know you didn’t get good responses from your research this mornin’. Think you might be willin’ to visit Jackson’s home for what it is?”
“I don’t know. I kinda enjoy gettin’ under your skin and makin’ you all pissy.”
“Don’t drop the deal, and you can have all the pissiness you can handle.”
“Tough decision,” Brianna teased. She flicked the top button of his uniform, basking in the warmth of his touch. Strength rolled off him, surrounding her in his nearness. His arm tightened around her waist, a temptation she didn’t want to pass up. She traced the stars decorating his collar, stealing a glance at his lips. Brushing a single finger along his strong jawline, legs weak, heart fluttering, she finally stepped back, away from the sinful man beckoning her, and headed toward the bed-and-breakfast. “I don’t give up, Sheriff.”
“Neither do I, Miss Cabot.”
Back to formalities.
That small thought brought a wicked grin to her mouth as she stepped into the warm, sweet-smelling interior.
Chapter Thirteen
Rylan claimed his position at the back of the family room, thumb hooked in his belt loop, ankle crossed, and toe planted against the wood floor. He sipped his beer from the cold bottle, keeping his attention averted from Jackson and Brianna and glued to the saddle bronc event on the television. How Jackson heard about Carter’s nightly gathering to watch the games, he hadn’t a clue. Under any other circumstances, he would’ve invited his closest friend and his woman over to join in the Ryder tradition of watching the games as a rowdy group.
Not after this afternoon. Not with the thoughts of kissing and claiming that woman running untamed in his head.
He took another long drink, his gaze floating away from the rider fighting to hold onto his saddle and landing on Brianna. The woman was his haunt, his personal battle of willpower. The night of her accident, he woke from a dead sleep in a pool of sweat. Fear so potent and bitter had filled his mouth and infiltrated his tissues. The only thing he had recalled was seeing Brianna’s body hanging out of Hailey’s pickup, mangled and…dead. Sure, he’d had many nightmares since Hailey’s death, many which replayed her accident scene like a damn pitchfork mercilessly piercing through his chest. Last week had been the first time Hailey wasn’t the one who died. The visceral response to seeing Brianna lifeless left him with a sickening guilt and a rattling sense of confusion.
He had chalked it up to the trauma of reliving Hailey’s scene while trying to save Brianna. That was all. Nothing more to it.
Right?
Rylan drew out every fine detail of the woman sitting beneath his best friend’s arm. Her hair, the color of coal with the texture of Mrs. Pearson’s finest silks, was pulled in a ponytail, thick waves caressing her face. Her smile did something to his heart, making it speed up as he watched that small gesture transform her from beautiful to breathtaking. She was clothed in a way that could elicit forbidden thoughts from the locked closet of his imagination. When she walked into Carter’s house, he had left the room, unable to stand having her that close and know she was completely off limits. Even if Jackson has alternate intentions. Tight dark-blue jeans and knee-high boots, a low-cut scoop neck sweater that teased the slopes of her breasts if a man was looking. Fuck him, he had looked and had been rewarded a goddamn hard-on that continued to throb an hour later.
He cleared his throat with another drink, changing the view from Brianna to Jackson, and instantly regretted doing so. Jackson lifted his beer in silent salute, took a slow drink, and winked. The man curled a lock of Brianna’s hair around his hand and pressed a tantalizing kiss to her temple, never once breaking his gaze with Rylan.
“Fuck you, Jax,” Rylan muttered under his breath. He rolled off the wall and left the feverish room, finding solemnity in the kitchen. A few of the ranch hands helping repair Carter’s home tipped hats and greeted him with a few heys and howdys, filling their plates with Miss Bess’s chicken wings and stocking up on a few beers.
Carter straightened up from behind the island, a new stack of paper plates and cups in either hand. Rylan headed toward his cousin and grabbed a sleeve of cups.
“Not enjoying yourself, are you?” Carter said, breaking through the thin plastic around the plates. Rylan shrugged a shoulder, keeping
his eyes lowered to the cups as he pulled them from the sleeve. “Don’t understand you sometimes.”
“I think I’m pretty cut and dry,” Rylan said, replenishing the depleted stacks of plastic cups. He took the wrapper from Carter and tossed it in the garbage. “How’re things with Katie?”
“She’s home. Wanted to come over, but she’s still sore from that gunshot wound. Summer’s been at her side every chance she gets. I’ve offered her a place here so she’s closer, but she’s refused thus far.” Carter nodded his head toward the family room. “Think you’re losing your ability to school your emotions, cuz.”
Rylan glowered at Carter, but the man never backed down. Then again, he was up against a hard-shelled veteran who looked death in the eye and, knowing Carter, probably spit in his face. The scars on his face were proof the man was steel over bone.
“Someone told me something once. Never forget, but don’t drown in the memories.” Carter rounded the island and came up beside Rylan. “It’s not wrong to care for someone, Ry. It’s wrong to lie to yourself and hurt that person while doing so.”
“She and Jax are an item, Carter. Besides, I’m not ready to move on from Hailey.”
Carter folded his arms over his chest. His hard glare tore into Rylan, challenging the fragile façade he’d practiced for his encounters with Brianna.
“You might be able to pull one by the rest of the family, but not me. Remember where I came from. I’d be dead if I didn’t know how to read and anticipate people. You’re breaking apart, Rylan. You’re gonna cave sooner or later.” Carter pointed a finger against his arm, aimed in the general direction of Brianna and Jackson. Rylan failed in his resistance, glancing over his shoulder. Brianna shared in the laughter between Summer and Lexi. His cousin Travis had perched himself on the arm of the sofa beside Jackson, elbows resting against his knee. He and Jackson spoke during the commercial break. “It’s amazing how saving someone’s life can create an unexpected bond. You should give Jackson’s proposal some thought.”
“What proposal?” Rylan asked. Brianna lifted her attention from the women. That content gaze slammed into him with the strength of a slug, shaking the foundation of his being. Carter’s presence faded, as did the entire crowd. Each pump of his heart narrowed his field of vision until all he could see was Brianna. Her soft, smooth features. Her soul-stirring eyes. Her glossy lips pursing around the top of her water bottle.