Chapter 5 #3
“No…I,” she says again, for possibly the third or fourth time since I made the decision that she’s coming home with me, no matter how much she argues.
“Do you have a tent bag?” I ask, ignoring her weak protests.
“Yes,” she whispers, unzipping a pocket on her ancient backpack and handing me a small canvas tote.
Taking it from her, I slip the poles and stakes in first, letting them fall to the bottom before I carefully slide the tent in on top and cinch the drawstring fastening closed.
Grabbing her sleeping bag and backpack in the same hand, I take her hand and start to walk, not giving her a chance to protest as I lead her away from her makeshift campsite and toward my car.
“I…”
“It’s fine. You’re safe with me, I promise. I’ll take care of you,” I assure her, silently declaring to myself that if she tries to refuse, I’ll throw her over my shoulder and then into my Jeep, because one way or another, I’m taking her home with me.
Neither of us speaks again as we walk along the trail back to the parking lot.
Once my Jeep comes into view, her steps falter, but instead of turning around to question if she’s okay, I tighten my hold on her hand and keep moving forward, letting her decide if she wants to make a scene and fight to free herself or if she’ll just do as she’s told.
A smile splits my lips when she allows me to tow her along, not bothering to protest. When we reach my Jeep, I place her belongings on the ground and pull my keys out, unlocking the back door, while my fingers grip hers tightly.
I’m not against the idea of chasing her down if she tries to run, but I’d rather not—at least not while there might be witnesses around to see me.
A vision of me chasing her perfect naked ass through our home flashes into my head, and I have to swallow down the growl that builds in my throat. The idea of her bare and waiting for me to catch her suddenly feels like the absolute perfect way for her to greet me after a long few days without her.
“Warrick,” she says, her meek voice dragging me from my dirty thoughts and back to the present.
“Yeah, amore mio,” I say, placing her things in my Jeep and slamming the back door closed before I turn to look at her.
Her eyes dart to the closed door, then back to me again. “I think it’s best if I just move on. We don’t know each other—”
“We’ll get to know each other quickly when we’re living in the same house,” I say, speaking over her as I guide her to the passenger door, opening it for her before I deliberately crowd her personal space, using my much bigger body to force her into the car.
The moment she’s in the seat, I close her door. Then I stride confidently to the driver’s side, deliberately not locking the doors—even though I want to—because she isn’t my prisoner, and I’ve already made the decision that there’s no way I’m leaving here without her.
“What do you feel like eating?” I ask, slipping into the seat beside hers and turning the key to start the engine. “Or would you rather we hit the sheriff’s office before we get food?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
“You really think the sheriff’s office will vouch for you?” she questions.
“I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but I work for the rural firefighting department. I’m one hundred percent confident that they’ll vouch for me. I’d never do anything to hurt you, but I want you to know you’re safe with me.”
“Okay,” she says, dropping her eyes to focus on her hands in her lap.
The drive to the sheriff’s department is fairly short, and I try to ignore Verity’s visceral anxiety as we traverse parts of the town she’s clearly not familiar with. Her exhale of relief when she spots the sheriff’s office is so loud, her cheeks heat when she hears it.
“Don’t worry, kidnapping isn’t on today’s to-do list,” I joke, turning off the engine and opening my car door.
Trying not to be too forceful, I don’t demand that she stay put so I can open her door, even though it makes my teeth grind together when she throws open the car and stumbles out onto the sidewalk.
Her eyes are wild and scanning around her as I reach for her hand and tug her forward and toward the sliding glass doors’ entrance.
“Good afternoon, Warrick,” Deputy Shaw says as we approach the front desk.
“Hey, Deputy Shaw. Is Cam around at all?”
The female deputy eyes me for a moment before her gaze moves to Verity, who has positioned herself slightly behind me.
My inner alpha male preens at the knowledge that my woman is using me as a shield because she knows that it’s my God-given right to protect and take care of her.
But I don’t voice that because it’s the twenty-first century and women are more than capable of kicking ass and taking names.
That doesn’t mean that I won’t be the one taking care of shit for my girl, it just means I won’t be saying it out loud, at least not while we’re both fully dressed and in company.
“Cam,” Deputy Shaw yells.
“Yeah,” a male voice calls back.
“You’ve got some visitors. Warrick and…” She trails off.
“This is Verity,” I tell her, glancing behind me, before turning back to face Deputy Shaw.
Deputy Amanda Shaw isn’t exactly a cougar.
She’s probably only mid-forties, closer to my age than Verity is.
But unlike what I know about my Verity so far, Deputy Shaw is an alpha female.
The first time we met, she hit on me…hard.
There were no coy glances or sexy innocence.
Deputy Shaw curled her fingers into my shirt and asked to ride my dick.
I’m not saying I’m not into confident women, because I am, or at least I have been in the past. But Deputy Shaw’s blatant proposition did nothing for me. She’s an attractive woman, but there’s a hardness to her, covered by a little too much makeup and empty eyes.
If I’d said yes and gone back to her place, I’m sure I’d have had a good night. But I knew I wouldn’t want more than that, and one-night stands in a town this small are never a good idea.
I’d told her thanks but no thanks, and she’d sauntered away—no harm, no foul. But as her gaze slides to Verity, then to the way I’m gripping her hand, I wonder if she took my rejection a little more personally than I’d thought.