Chapter 6
Xavier
“So, what are we looking for?” I asked as Dakota and Marcus began to walk the Baker Ranch. “Ruffians? Thugs? Jaywalkers?”
“That’s police business and none of yours,” Marcus replied quickly. “You shouldn’t even be out here with us.”
Ooh, someone was a little grumpy. But the way he scrunched up his nose looked so cute on him. Besides, I loved the way he kept avoiding eye contact with me. It told me everything I needed to know.
“Oh, come on,” I said, putting on my best pouty face. “It’s not a murder, so it can’t be that bad.” I glanced over at Dakota. “Someone steal a horse or something?”
“That would be a lot more serious,” Dakota replied, looking more than a little amused about watching me tromp through mud in rubber boots up to my knees. “There’s been some things that’ve gone missin’—”
“Don’t tell him that!” Marcus shot back, pointing a finger at Dakota. “Those are pertinent details about the case! What if word gets out and the robber skips town?”
“Well, I don’t talk to anyone but Lucas’s friends,” I shrugged. “And I doubt any of them is stealing from Logan.”
“I’d have to agree with that, Sheriff,” Dakota nodded. “Whoever’s doing this, they’re no friend of ours.”
I watched Marcus’s jaw tighten as he shot Dakota another look.
The sheriff really didn’t want me here, that much was obvious.
But the more he resisted, the more I wanted to stick around.
Call it petty, but there was something deeply satisfying about getting under his skin.
Although getting under his clothes sounded a lot more fun.
“Fine,” Marcus muttered, adjusting his hat. “But you keep quiet and don’t touch anything. And if I tell you to go back to the house, you go. Understood?”
“Yes, sir, Sheriff, sir,” I said with a mock salute.
He rolled his eyes and started walking toward the tree line behind the main house.
Dakota fell into step beside him, and I hurried to catch up, these oversized rubber boots making an embarrassing squelching sound with each step.
They were at least two sizes too big, and I was pretty sure I looked ridiculous.
But at least my Balenciagas were safe back in the barn.
“So, what kind of things went missing?” I asked, unable to help myself. “Jewelry? Cash? Some vintage Betty Crocker china?”
Marcus stopped walking and turned to face me, his green eyes narrowing. “I thought I told you to keep quiet.”
“You said not to touch anything. You didn’t say I couldn’t ask questions.”
“I’m saying it now.”
“Too late, I already asked.”
Dakota coughed, and I was pretty sure he was covering up a laugh. Marcus, however, looked like he was counting to ten in his head. Maybe twenty.
“Xavier,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a particularly difficult child. “This is an active investigation. I can’t have you interfering or spreading information around town.”
“I don’t spread anything. I get tested regularly,” I promised, crossing my heart dramatically. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“How do you know that?”
He looked me up and down. “I don’t think I need to explain.”
I grinned at him. “You’re right, I wasn’t. I got kicked out of the one meeting I attended for suggesting we redecorate the troop leader’s basement. Apparently, emerald green shag carpet was a hill he was willing to die on.”
This time Dakota did laugh, a short bark of amusement that he quickly tried to suppress when Marcus glared at him.
“Can we just focus here?” Marcus asked, gesturing to the ground. “I’m looking for any signs of disturbance. Footprints, broken branches, anything that looks out of place.”
I bit my tongue to keep from making another comment and instead actually tried to be helpful.
We walked along the tree line, Marcus and Dakota scanning the ground while I did my best to look like I knew what I was searching for.
Honestly, it all just looked like dirt and grass to me, but I kept my eyes down and tried to appear useful.
After about ten minutes of silence, I noticed something near the base of a large oak tree. There was a cigarette butt, partially buried in the dirt but still visible. I started to reach down to grab it, then remembered Marcus’s warning about not touching anything.
“Sheriff,” I called out, trying to sound professional. “I think I found something.”
Marcus was at my side in seconds, moving with a speed that caught me off guard.
For a big guy, he was surprisingly quick.
He crouched down next to me, and suddenly we were very close.
Close enough that I could smell leather and something woodsy, like cedar or pine.
Close enough to see the fine lines around his eyes and the stubble along his jaw that he’d probably need to shave soon.
“Don’t touch it,” he said, pulling out his phone to take pictures.
“I know,” I replied, a little offended. “You already told me that. I’m not completely incompetent.”
He glanced up at me, and for just a second, something softened in his expression. “I didn’t say you were.”
Dakota joined us, peering down at the cigarette butt. “None of the ranch hands smoke. Logan’s got a strict policy about it. It’s a big fire hazard.”
“And none of the family smokes either?” Marcus asked, still taking photos from different angles.
“Nope. Caroline used to, but she quit a before she came home from college.” Dakota pulled out a plastic baggie from his pocket and handed it to Marcus. “Looks like it’s been here a few days, judging by the dirt.”
Marcus carefully picked up the cigarette butt with a stick and dropped it into the baggie. “Could be nothing. Could be from a student parent who wandered off from the main area.”
“Or it could be from whoever’s been stealing things,” I pointed out.
Marcus stood up, slipping the baggie into his pocket. His eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of something—approval, maybe? It was gone before I could identify it.
“Good eye,” he said grudgingly.
I felt an absurd rush of pride at the compliment, which was ridiculous. I was a successful wedding planner who’d worked with celebrities and coordinated events for people with more money than God. I shouldn’t care what some small-town sheriff thought of my observational skills.
But I did. Damn it, I did.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to play it cool. “I notice details. It’s kind of my job.”
We continued searching the area, and I found myself actually getting into it.
There was something oddly satisfying about looking for clues, piecing together a puzzle.
Though mostly I was just enjoying being near Marcus, watching the way he moved with purpose and confidence, the way his brow furrowed when he was concentrating.
I had it bad for him. Ugh.
“There’s more tracks here,” Dakota called from about twenty feet away. “Looks like the same shoe print from near the house.”
Marcus and I hurried over, and sure enough, there were several partial prints in the soft earth. They led deeper into the trees, away from the ranch buildings.
“Whoever this is, they’re not coming here with any of the students,” Marcus said, his voice grim. “There’d be no reason to come in and out of the property through the woods.”
“Maybe it’s a cruising spot?” I offered without thinking.
Both Marcus and Dakota turned and stared at me like I’d just said the most heinous thing ever.
“Do… Do Sagebrush people do that sort of thing?” I offered weakly.
Marcus’s face went from its usual tan to a deep red that crept up his neck and colored the tips of his ears. His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he couldn’t quite spit out. Clearly, he knew what I was hinting at. Dakota, on the other hand, just looked confused.
“Cruising?” Dakota asked. “Like... for drugs or something?”
Oh, sweet summer child. I almost felt bad for bringing it up. Almost.
“Not exactly,” I said, glancing at Marcus, who looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. “It’s when gay men meet up in secluded outdoor spots for... recreational activities.”
Dakota’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Oh. Oh.”
“That’s not—” Marcus started, then stopped. He cleared his throat, adjusting his hat even though it didn’t need adjusting. “That’s not what’s happening here.”
“How do you know?” I asked, genuinely curious now. “I mean, these woods are pretty secluded. Someone’s clearly coming and going through here regularly. And that cigarette looked like it was smoked right there, not tossed from somewhere else.”
“Because this is Sagebrush,” Marcus said firmly, though his face was still that delightful shade of red. “People don’t—we don’t—that’s not a thing here.”
“You sure about that, Sheriff?” I raised an eyebrow. “Because in my experience, gay men exist everywhere. Even in small Texas towns. Especially in small Texas towns, actually. We get creative when we have to.”
Something flickered across his face—panic, maybe, or recognition. He looked away quickly, focusing back on the footprints like they were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“Let’s just... follow these tracks,” he muttered. “See where they lead.”
He took off into the woods, leaving Dakota and I standing there.
“Well, he’s not completely right,” Dakota said as soon as he was out of earshot. “Logan and I sneak out into the woods or down by the creek to fuck all the time.”
“Duh,” I nodded, immediately liking Dakota ten times more than I already did. “Why wouldn’t you? Having sex outside is amazing.”
“Right?” Dakota nodded. He turned back toward the woods, heading that direction. “Come on. Let’s make sure he doesn’t get lost.”
I followed Dakota through the trees, my borrowed boots still squelching with every step.
The forest floor was soft from last night’s rain, and I had to watch where I was stepping to avoid face planting into the mud.
That would’ve been a great look—showing up at the Turner Ranch covered in Texas dirt.
Ahead of us, Marcus moved with the kind of easy confidence that came from knowing exactly where he was going.
His broad shoulders were tense though, and I couldn’t help but wonder if my comment about cruising had hit a little too close to home.
The way he’d reacted, all flustered and red-faced.
.. that wasn’t just discomfort with the topic.
That was personal. I had a feeling he’d done it before.
“So,” I said, catching up to Dakota. “How long have you and Logan been together?”
“About two years now,” Dakota replied, ducking under a low-hanging branch. “Met when he and Lucas moved back to Sagebrush. I worked for his family.”
“That’s sweet. Workplace romance.” I grinned. “Did you know right away? That he was into you?”
Dakota’s mouth quirked into a small smile. “Not exactly. Logan was fightin’ some demons when he was forced to move home. Took him a while to get it figured out. I thought he hated me at first.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Nope. Turns out he was just terrified.” Dakota glanced back at me. “What about you? You seeing anyone?”
I laughed. “God, no. I don’t do relationships. Too messy, too complicated. I like keeping things simple.”
“Simple like hookups?”
“Exactly like hookups.” I stepped over a fallen log, nearly losing my balance. “No strings, no expectations, no one getting hurt when it inevitably ends.”
Dakota hummed thoughtfully but didn’t comment. Up ahead, Marcus had stopped at what looked like a small clearing. We caught up to him, and I saw why he’d paused.
There were more footprints here, lots of them, all churned up in the mud. And in the center of the clearing was a makeshift camp of sorts. There was a ratty tarp strung between trees, some empty food containers, and what looked like a sleeping bag stuffed behind a log.
“Well,” I said slowly. “I don’t think this is a cruising spot after all.”
Marcus shot me a look that could’ve melted steel. “No. It’s not.”
“Someone’s been staying out here,” Dakota said, crouching down to examine the setup. “Looks like they’ve been here a few days at least.”
Marcus was already taking pictures, his jaw set in that determined way I was starting to recognize. “Don’t touch anything. This is evidence now.”
I stayed back, watching him work. There was something almost beautiful about how focused he became, how every movement was deliberate and careful. He wasn’t just going through the motions. He genuinely cared about figuring this out.
“Think it’s a homeless person?” Dakota asked. “Someone passing through?”
“Hard to tell,” Marcus replied. “All this stuff is pretty worn down. It could be that someone just found it recently. You might want to check with the ranch hands to see if they’ve come across this.”
“They probably would’ve reported it, but I’ll check with them anyway.”
Marcus nodded. “I’ll grab a couple trail cams from the office and bring them out here. We’ll keep one on the camp and another pointed toward the house. See if we can get anything.”
“Good idea,” Dakota said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll text Logan and let him know what we found.”
I shifted my weight, these oversized boots starting to rub blisters on my heels. “So, what happens now? We just wait for whoever this is to come back?”
“That’s the plan,” Marcus said, still examining the campsite. He crouched down near the sleeping bag, careful not to touch it. “Though I’d prefer if you weren’t involved in any of this from here on out.”
“Why not?” I crossed my arms. “I found the cigarette butt. I’m helping.”
“Because this could be dangerous,” he said, standing up and fixing me with those serious green eyes. “We don’t know who’s been staying out here or what they’re capable of. They’ve already stolen from the ranch. Who knows what else they might do if they feel cornered.”
“I can handle myself,” I insisted, even though a small voice in the back of my head was suggesting that maybe the sheriff had a point.
“I’m sure you can,” Marcus said, and there was something in his tone that made it sound like he actually meant it. “But I’d feel better if you stayed in town. Or better yet, back in your cabin.”
“Are you worried about me, Sheriff?” I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s sweet.”
His jaw tightened again, and I watched that familiar flush creep back up his neck. “I’m worried about anyone who might get caught up in this. It’s my job.”
“Right. Your job.” I emphasized the word just enough to make it clear I didn’t quite believe that was the only reason.
“We should probably head back,” Marcus said, straightening up after taking the last photo. “Those trail cams need to go up before it gets dark.”
“And, you know, that’s when the cruisers come out,” I grinned.
Marcus turned beet red once more, and opened his mouth to retort, but no sound came out. Clearly flustered and annoyed, he stomped off, Dakota trailing behind him as they headed back to the main house.
Goddamn he was fun to mess with.