by Barb Han
“You’re beautiful,” he said. Her stomach free-fell in the best possible way.
She was normally embarrassed by her body and especially now that she’d had a baby. Her hips were fuller than before and there were marks that had never disappeared.
The hot cowboy didn’t seem to notice any of her flaws.
“So are you,” she said with a flirty smile. Her gaze slid over his chest and down to that dark patch of hair. A little farther south and she could see how much he liked seeing her naked based on his straining erection.
It turned her on.
“I want to feel your hands on me, Dalton,” she said.
It took only three strides for him to stand in front of her. He pulled a condom from the wallet on the desk and she helped him put it on, stretching it over his tip and down his stiff length.
And then he tilted her head back and captured her mouth. Her bones went liquid when he kissed her so thoroughly, her body hummed with anticipation as she stood there.
Every cell inside her cried out to touch him, so she did. She smoothed her flat palm across his muscled chest, letting her fingers glide over the strong lines. The thought of making love to someone had never seemed this good of an idea or this right.
It should scare her.
But it didn’t.
* * *
DALTON’S HEART THUNDERED as he explored Leanne’s taste. He feathered kisses along her jawline, her neck before cupping her full breast with one hand and slicking his tongue across the other. Her back arched and her nipples beaded, flooding him with heat.
He picked her up and repositioned her on the edge of his desk before sliding his tongue south. He gripped her sweet round bottom as he slicked his tongue inside her sweet heat. She moaned and wiggled her hips as he moved his mouth along the inside of her thigh until she begged for release.
He stood and she wrapped her legs around his midsection before grinding against his erection.
When she scooted closer until his tip entered her mound, he had to strain to maintain control—which threw him for a loop. He’d never been early to the races, but she was so damn sexy with her curves and silky skin that he nearly detonated before it got interesting.
Her bare breasts pressed against his chest as she pulled closer, digging her fingers into his shoulders as he entered her.
“Dalton.” She said his name so low, but it was the sweetest sound. He wanted to hear it again and again until she screamed it in release, so he dipped inside a little deeper, waiting to make sure she was okay.
Her wet heat surrounding his erection was the second time he almost lost it. Damn, Butler. Way to slow down.
She was that sexy. Her body was one thing and, yes, it was his idea of perfection. But the sexy sparkle in her honey-browns when she looked at him threw him into a whole new stratosphere of attraction. She was sharp and warm, a rare combination of spunk and tenderness.
And when she bucked him in deeper, he gripped her sweet bottom and drove them both home.
The next few minutes were a frenzy of tongues melding, hands exploring and friction building.
Deeper, she welcomed him, answering his strides with a fever pitch until her muscles strung tight and he could sense she was on the edge.
Thrusting. Faster. Harder.
She cried out his name in sweet ecstasy as her muscles contracted around his hard length.
His pace was steady as he guided her toward that sweet release she craved until she shattered around him.
And then he detonated, too. Driving steady and deep until everything drained from him.
Panting, he held on to her. Both seemed to need this moment in the present. Because experience had taught them tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. Both seemed to realize their paths could break in opposite directions at any time now.
“This changes things for me,” Dalton said quietly.
He had no idea if she’d heard him, was speechless or just plain old didn’t feel the same way.
* * *
THE SHERIFF’S REFUSAL to meet with Leanne gave her no choice but to show up at his office. Thankfully, the baby was safe at the ranch. Mila’s presence seemed to distract Hampton and Bethany, too. Her sister had lit up when she saw Mila, constantly expressing how much she’d wanted to visit after the birth.
It seemed that Bethany was channeling some of her extra energy into Mila. Her sister was brighter today and Leanne hoped it was because she wasn’t taking the medication that blanked her face and the fact that she’d made a decision not to go back to Gary.
“I need to speak to the sheriff. It’s urgent,” Leanne said as Janis, the sheriff’s receptionist, came around her desk with her hands out in front of her.
“Hold on there. Slow down a minute.” The older woman had a kind but firm way about her. She was tall, close to six feet if Leanne had to guess. And she was using every inch of her height to block the hallway leading to Sawmill’s office.
“Let him know I’m here, and I’m sure he’ll agree to see me,” she defended.
Dalton was behind her, but he didn’t seem to have a play.
Since making love, his normally tense expression had relaxed and he was even more attractive. She’d let his last words sit between them, unsure of what they meant or what either of them could do about them, anyway. Her life was in Dallas and his in Cattle Barge.
Leanne had a daughter who would always be her priority. Trying to add someone else to the equation of her already-complicated life seemed like looking for disaster. She couldn’t make the math work, no matter how much her heart wanted to argue.
Cattle Barge was hours away from Dallas. Dalton loved the land he lived on. Their lifestyles were on the opposite end of the spectrum. She had a job that required long hours and a child who deserved her attention when she wasn’t working. As much as Leanne loved her mother, there were many times she felt left out when her mother was seeing someone new. Eating dinners alone before the age of twelve was about the saddest thing she remembered.
Leanne needed Mila to know she came first.
A little voice in her head said circumstances were completely different. Mila was a baby. But then that made things even worse. What was she supposed to say to Dalton? “Hold on while I burp my baby”? “Sorry, she just threw up on your good pants”? None of it worked.
And yet, when his hand came up to her shoulder, everything scrambled in her logical mind and she wished they could give a relationship a shot.
Didn’t he say that working a ranch was a seven-day-week job?
“Please let me in there,” she begged.
Janis studied her for a long moment. “I can’t do that or I might lose my job.”
Leanne started to argue, but Janis’s hand came up again. “You seem like the kind of person who won’t take no for an answer.” She craned her neck like she was using her head to point to the back parking lot. “And he’s due any minute. He’ll most likely come through that back door.” More of the head movements. “And there’s not much I can do if someone wants to wait out there on public property in order to speak to him.”
It dawned on Leanne that Janis was actually helping her out.
“My job wouldn’t be hurt at all. Nothing in my file—”
She didn’t need to finish her sentence, because she was already shushing them out the front door. Leanne understood.
“Thank you,” she mouthed, careful not to say it too loud.
“No one’s ever thanked me for kicking them out before,” she said a little too loudly, and Leanne knew it was for the benefit of anyone who was trying to listen to their conversation.
Bolting around the station, Leanne caught the sheriff as he opened the back door.
Chapter Fifteen
“Sheriff Sawmill,” she shouted to get his attention as she rounded the corner, desperate to get to him before he
pretended not to see her and slipped inside the door.
“I’m on a case right now, Detective West.” His tone was irritated, but he rested his hand on the half-opened door.
“We’d like to speak to you about the victims—”
“We’ve already been over this,” he insisted. “I sent a report to your supervisor this afternoon.”
“I haven’t spoken to my SO today,” she admitted. “Dal—Mr. Butler and I have been thinking and we’d like you to hear us out.”
Sawmill glanced around as a reporter dashed around the corner. Normally, she didn’t appreciate media interfering but in this case, it might actually help her out.
“Come inside,” he said after a second.
“Thank you, sir.” Leanne knew she was putting her job on the line.
Sawmill led them inside his office and closed the door behind them. “I’m willing to hear you out this time but make no mistake about it, this is a favor.”
“Understood,” Leanne said, grateful to have the sheriff’s ear.
He didn’t sit down, so neither did they. She pulled out a notepad from her purse.
“Dalton and I have been looking at the cases from a different angle, trying to infuse another approach,” she started.
“I’ve already—”
“Come on, sheriff,” Dalton interrupted. “You can’t tell me these cases don’t look enough alike to at least make you question it.”
Sawmill nodded in response. “I’m already thinking the same thing.”
“Hear what she has to say. If you don’t agree, the only thing you’ve lost is a couple minutes of your time,” Dalton continued.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“The bodies showed no signs of putting up a fight. So, it’s possible they were drugged and that’s why there are no signs of struggle. The victims are both a little more than five-feet-tall blondes, both seventeen years old. They were hung from the same tree on the same night fourteen years apart,” she said.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sawmill responded with an even tone.
“I made a few phone calls last night and found out that one of the bus drivers at the high school has a biology degree,” Dalton said. “He quit his job and moved home after his mother died.”
“Ted Brown has a biology degree?” Sawmill asked.
“He’s strong enough to carry the victims,” Dalton said. “He was twenty-six when the first victim was hanged. Forty years old now and strong as an ox.”
“One of my deputies collected coke caps from the underbrush at the scene. Maybe we’ll get a DNA hit,” the sheriff said.
“Ted doesn’t have a record that I know of,” Dalton said. “I didn’t know him personally, but people said he came back from school after an accident. Said he hasn’t quite been right ever since.”
“I checked the database and didn’t get any hits for other victims on December 7,” Sawmill admitted.
“It’s not uncommon for a serial killer to have a cooling-off period,” Leanne chimed in. “He would need to have other victims, of course, to fit this classification.”
“Seems like someone with a mental impairment or brain injury would have a difficult time pulling off two murders without leaving a trail,” Sawmill said. It was true that most killers had low IQs and were caught early as a result. It was also true that the really smart ones literally got away with murder.
“I believe he’s showing off. He thinks he’s superior, so he’s rubbing our noses in it,” Leanne stated. “The trucker’s knot. The public display. He wanted the victims to be found, because he’s thumbing his nose at us.”
“You don’t believe your brother-in-law is involved?” Sawmill asked.
“If he is, throw the damn book at him. I just can’t reconcile it. He’s a hothead, my brother-in-law. I found out he’s been physically rough with my sister a few times.” She flashed her eyes at the sheriff. “Believe me, I had no idea any of this was going on. They kept me in the dark. I’m guessing they knew what my reaction would be.”
“Which would be understandable, but that doesn’t solve my case.”
“Yes. But right now I’m thinking my brother-in-law is your best suspect and you can see the holes in that theory better than I can. You have another higher-profile murder investigation sitting on your back and while you figure out who did that, you need this win as badly as we do.” Leanne didn’t hold back, and she hoped it wouldn’t get them kicked out.
The sheriff took a step closer and looked at the notepad she was holding.
“You believe the suspect is male. Strong. Brown is at the top of your list,” he said. “But Bartholomew, the druggist’s son, is on there, too. The man has a family. Goes to church on Sunday.”
“So did the BTK Killer. Having a family and going to church didn’t stop him from stalking and killing women,” Leanne interjected.
“But you want access to Brown.”
“Yes. But I can’t touch him without putting the case in jeopardy, and I won’t do anything that might damage your investigation.” She studied Sawmill. Tired? Check. Listening? Check.
This was the most progress she’d made with him since they met a few days ago. Had it really only been a handful of days? Barely sleeping for most of it stretched the days into what felt like weeks. It was impossible that she and Dalton had only known each other for a short time. Her feelings for him ran deeper than anything she’d known before. A little voice reminded her that they were in an intense situation and that could bring out all kinds of extra hormones.
Was it hormones? Really?
A blind attraction that would fade?
She hoped not, because she’d felt struck by a stray lightning bolt from the minute she met the handsome cowboy. Getting to know him only made her respect him even more. He was the kind of guy she could see herself with long term under different circumstances. If the relationship had time to take hold before she returned to the city.
Long distance rarely worked without all the complications they had. Leanne didn’t have it in her heart to try again with anyone.
Did she?
* * *
“THIS IS GOOD investigative work,” Sawmill finally said after they gave him a few more choices for suspects. He folded his arms.
Dalton knew that he was also signaling that it was time to end the meeting.
“We appreciate your time, Sheriff,” he said, offering a handshake.
This meeting was going a long way toward rebuilding trust and the sheriff seemed to realize it when he took the outstretched hand in a firm grasp.
“Can I take a picture of that page?” Sawmill asked.
“Absolutely,” Leanne said with pride.
Dalton liked it when she smiled. He wanted to talk to her about the possibility of spending time together once she returned to Dallas. He’d shelve the thought for now, but his chest was lighter than it had been in longer than he could remember. The chinks in his armor, allowing some of the pain to seep out, had the benefit of him carrying a lighter load.
“I’ll follow up on these leads and see where these people were on the seventh,” Sawmill promised.
The pair stood after thanking the sheriff.
Dalton walked Leanne to the SUV, stopping to give her a kiss before opening her door.
“You think she’s still asleep?” Leanne asked, referring to her daughter. “I want to call and check on her, but I don’t want to wake anyone.”
“Let’s give it a minute,” he said. “Besides, I have an idea.”
The smile on Leanne’s face broke down more of the casing around his heart. He was falling. Hard. He just hoped there’d be a life raft when she walked away.
He didn’t tell her where they were going, but it wasn’t far out of town. The two chatted easily on the way. Leanne seemed pleased the sheriff was taking them serio
usly and he couldn’t deny that he was, too.
It was Christmastime and his turn to bring home the tree. The Butlers had a tradition that no other decorations could go up inside without first having a tree.
Dalton realized something about the sheriff through this process. Sawmill had a tough job. He had a lot of pride in his work and even if he made a mistake, it wasn’t because he didn’t care. There was an odd comfort in the sentiment.
“Okay,” he finally said. “We’re almost there.”
“Great, because all I see is farm road,” she quipped. There was a lightness to her voice that he liked. Was it because they were making progress in the case? He figured that was part of it. Seeing her daughter had improved her mood considerably. And then they’d made love.
Dalton couldn’t remember when it had been so right. He wanted to make Leanne happy.
“You were talking about feeling like a failure earlier for not being more prepared for your daughter’s first Christmas,” he began as he winded down the path.
“Yes. So, why are we out in the sticks? I thought the ranch was remote until you brought me out here. Is there even cell reception?” She checked her phone for bars.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” he teased.
“Tell me again why we’re all the way out here,” she pleaded.
“Hold on,” he said. And then he rounded the bend, revealing the best Christmas tree farm in Texas. “Here.”
“This...is...beautiful.” She wiped a tear.
“There’s no need to get emotional,” he said, but his chest swelled with pride.
“I’ve never been to a real Christmas tree farm before. When Mila is older, I want to bring her back here.”
There were more pines than he could count. He parked the SUV and hopped out so he could open her door for her.
“This is...” She seemed to be searching for the right word. She also seemed at a loss, so he kissed her.
She responded in a way that got him aroused. Bad idea out here. And when he looked up afterward, he smiled when he saw mistletoe hanging over the trellis leading to trail to the small forest.