Chapter 7 #2
This had really struck a nerve with him. She felt like she’d discovered his weak spot and regretted being the one to have jabbed it. “I’m real sorry about it, either way, Jeremiah,” she said. “I’m fixin’ to look into this. If somebody’s messin’ with you, they’re about to regret it.”
She couldn’t name the emotions that crossed his face. His anger and defensiveness morphed into something else entirely. Surprise or awe. He was lookin’ at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was for real.
Well, he hadn’t been raised to trust the law, she figured.
Her radio crackled again. “I gotta go.” She headed toward her car.
He snapped out of his state, and came after her. “Wait! What do I do about the dog?”
“Just love on him and everything’ll work out,” she called over her shoulder. “Least that’s what my dad always told me.”
He came closer. She didn’t want him to try to kiss her, well, she did. Dang, she really did, but not there in front of enough locals to make it common knowledge by sundown. And he had that look in his electric blue eyes.
“You’d best get that dog home,” she said. It came out a little raspy. “He can’t be cooped up for so long. He’s a pup. There’ll be accidents.”
“Ahh…” He looked worriedly back at his Jeep where Drew and the pup were smooching. Willow got into her SUV.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” he said, facing her again as she closed the door. Which felt rude, so she put the window down and changed the subject.
“How’s your credit score?”
“Danged if I know,” he said. “Why?”
She shrugged. “You made a good point before about not having a place of your own. Maybe it’s time to start lookin’.” She reached for her radio mic to report in, giving him an apologetic wave.
He waved back and headed to his Jeep. Drew stepped out of the way, and Jeremiah got in, simultaneously moving the pup to the passenger side. Willow watched him back out into the road and drive away as Drew came across the lot toward her.
She leaned on the open window and said, “Girl, what are you doin’?”
“My best to keep my hands off him,” Willow replied.
“Shouldn’t be so hard. You heard him say he was deceivin’ you.”
“And yet I keep thinkin’, what better way to find out how he’s deceivin’ me than gettin’ a little closer? You know?”
“How do you get closer than sex?”
Willow shrugged. “More sex?”
“You be safe, you hear me? Until you know what he’s lyin’ about, make his condom wear a condom!”
Willow’s shocked laugh sounded like a bark.
But then Drew stopped grinning. “Protect your heart, too, cuz,” she said, her voice going softer, her face, serious. “At least you know he has ulterior motives goin’ in.”
Willow nodded. “Forewarned is forearmed,” she said.
“Then again, how bad can he be?” Drew asked. “He saved a puppy.”
“Yeah,” Willow said. She looked down the road in the direction he’d gone and breathed the word again. “Yeah.”
The pup was lying on the rug near the side door, snoring like a chainsaw. He was perpetually hungry, and hilariously clumsy, even tripping over his long ears sometimes. Smart, too. He’d learned multiple commands today with almost no effort at all.
It was midnight. Willow’s shift was over.
He looked at his phone, tipped his head to one side.
It hadn’t been a very productive night. He’d taken the pup with him back to the former Bluebonnet Inn an hour ago and thrown the main power switch at the electric pole out front.
Shut everything down including the old cameras he’d noticed there, if they were still working. He doubted they were, but still.
He’d spent forty-five minutes waving his metal detector, which he’d driven all the way to El Paso to buy, over every inch of that back yard. Aside from some odds and ends—a pair of eyeglass frames with no lenses, some barbed wire, and a handful of roofing nails—he’d found nothing.
He looked at his phone again. It was surprising to him how much he wanted to call Willow.
Then call her, he thought. It was no big deal. He was aching to get her back into his bed. And, yes, he liked her. She was easy to be with. And she’d listened to him today; she’d heard him when he’d said someone might be deliberately accusing him of petty crimes around town.
She was on her way home right now, and within a few minutes would be driving past the turnoff for the Texas Brand, and this very bunkhouse.
He tapped her face on his phone. He’d snapped a pic of her on her horse, Sundance, one day awhile back when they’d all gone riding. Bright smile, cowboy hat, long dark hair flying in the breeze—that was the photo on her contact entry in his phone.
She picked up on the first ring. “Why am I not surprised you’re callin’ at this particular time of the evenin’?”
“I don’t know. Why are you not surprised?” he asked.
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “Because I’m drivin’ home, and I’m not comin’ over there.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I’m better manscaped than I’ve ever been in my life.”
She laughed softly. Then, “Takin’ things for granted, aren’t you?”
“Not even a little bit. I’m just…a hopeful guy.”
“Right. That’s one of the first things I noticed about you. Your optimism.”
She laughed at her own joke.
He imagined he could feel her warm breath on his ear. He stayed quiet, so she’d talk some more.
“It’s movin’ a little fast for me, you know?”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see. “‘Specially now that I’m a suspect in two local crimes?”
“You aren’t a suspect, Gringo. Something’s goin’ on.
I should’ve seen it myself. Both those crimes were vandalism, just a smashed window, nothin’ taken, in either case.
I’m on it. I put in a request for the anonymous tip recording about the drugstore.
I want to hear it. And I know it wasn’t you.
I don’t want you to think that’s got anything to do with… this.”
“Okay,” he said. And oddly, he believed her. “Could you…maybe tell me what’s got you so hesitant, then?”
“Well…I mean, to be straight-up honest about it—”
“Please, yes, be straight-up honest about it.”
“Fine. When we’re together I can’t keep my hands off you,” she said.
He felt warmth bloom in the center of his chest, spreading outward. “I really like that about you.”
“So maybe,” she said, “we could just…talk for a while like this.”
A shiver ran up his spine. She was too smart to fool in long conversations. If he had to lie to her about anything, she might see through him. But he couldn’t say no, could he? Moreover, he didn’t want to say no. “Where are you right now?”
“Drivin’ about five miles outta the Bend. You’re on my headset, cause I have the windows down.”
“That long hair of yours must be whipping in the wind.”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
He smiled, grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out the side door to a folding chair by the empty fire pit. The pup scrambled to his huge feet and came trundling along after him.
He could picture Willow plain as day, driving in the dark with her windows down. “You haven’t passed the turnoff yet, then.” He didn’t have to tell her which turnoff he meant. His.
“It’ll be a few minutes.”
“Okay. So what should we talk about?”
“Hmm,” she said. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know. Like, uh, what do you want?”
“What do I want?” He took a swig from the beer can. The pup was wandering around, smelling everything he came to. “Right now, I want you to think about takin’ that turnoff, showing up here, and crawling into my bed. My brain isn’t functioning much beyond all that.”
He heard her exhale, imagined her smiling and shaking her head. “What do you want out of life?” she asked.
“I just told you.”
She laughed aloud that time. He did, too. The pup heard him laughing and came bounding over.
Then he got serious. Willow was trying to get to know him better. He wondered how much of himself he could reveal without scaring her away, and decided a layer of honesty might be a good start.
“I was raised by criminals. People who worked in my old man’s organization to one degree or another. I was taught not to share anything with anybody for just about any reason. Being open is…hard for me.”
“Honestly, that was pretty open. Full disclosure, I read your file.”
“How could you not? You’re a cop and we’re…whatever we are.”
“There was a photo of you at your mother’s funeral,” she said. “It must’ve been the worst day of your life.”
“I never really believed it, you know? That she would have killed herself just as soon as she left me there. But I was a kid; what does a kid know?”
“Why didn’t you believe it?”
“Because she told me she’d come back,” he said. “She promised. I just kept expecting her to show up saying it was all a mistake.”
“Hell,” she said. “That must hurt so bad.”
“Less when I’m with you. Shoot, I didn’t mean to say that.” He really hadn’t. It had just come out. And it was true; there was something about being with Willow that soothed that wounded part of him. Was it just the presence of a woman in his life? Or was it this woman?
“Hell,” she repeated. And then she said, “Hey, Gringo?”
“Yeah, Deputy?”
“I’m takin’ the turnoff.”
Minutes later, he met her at the door, pulled her right into his arms, and kissed her like he meant it. Beans jumped and barked and pawed at her legs.
“Hey, hey, dude, enough. Down,” Jeremiah said, pumping his palm toward the floor.
The pup sat.
“Wait.” He held up one finger.
Then he turned his attention back to Willow, “Where were we?”
“You taught him that already?”
“We’ve had most of the day together. I got him a vet’s appointment tomorrow. And best of all, a long-lasting chewy treat for tonight.” He kissed her again and the pup whined. Jeremiah grabbed the treat off the counter and tossed it toward Beans. Then he started undressing Willow.
First the shirt, button by button. He pushed it off her shoulders, down her arms, moving her legs with his as he did. He slid the bra straps down her shoulders, kissing her mouth, her neck, her face.
“Slow down, Gringo. I need a shower,” she said.
“What a great idea. I’ll help.”