Chapter 30 #2
“He wrote the word ‘present’ on the flier.” She indicates the bolded letters on the flier. “The texter—”
“Stalker,” I correct again.
Blake continues as if I didn’t speak at all. “—also called the body at the trailer park a present.”
That is a bit alarming.
“That does feel significant,” I agree.
Returning the picture to its place, she gestures to the Debt Collector’s victims. “But I can’t figure out what Silver Pines has to do with Derek Holt and Reverend Ricks.”
The riddle of the century.
“I’m not sure either, but I put Neil Redford under police protection. Ridge has been on him since last night,” I inform her.
Her face scrunches. “Who?”
“Neil Redford,” I reiterate.
Frowning, Blake squints.
“Silver Pines.”
The dots still don’t connect for her.
“He’s the owner and developer of Silver Pines,” I clarify. “And the manager at Evergreen Community Bank.”
Her brows lift with understanding. “That makes sense.” She takes another hearty gulp of the coffee. “Why are you doing this?”
Casually, I drag my hand over my mouth. “What? My job?”
Blake closes her eyes, pauses, then opens them slowly, communicating her lack of amusement. “Doing an award-winning impersonation of a helicopter mom.”
“No, I’m not,” I deny, shifting in my chair.
“Coffee, hovering in the doorway,” she lists, “you even waited for me outside the bathroom earlier.”
Weaving my fingers together, I recline and rest my hands on my chest.
Blake angles her head, and her tone softens. “Nothing is going to happen to me here. We’re in a police station, for God’s sake.”
For a moment, it’s as if Blake takes some of the weight I carry around on my back and places it on her own.
She reaches her hand across the table toward me.
Sighing, I sit forward and clasp her hand. Sincerity tinged with trepidation leaks through my voice. “I can’t risk it.”
Blake’s mouth curves into a light frown. “What’re you talking about?”
Something inside of me snaps. It’s like a bomb goes off, tearing down the walls I built around my heart, and there are too many pieces to put them back together. I don’t want to lose it here in front of her.
But it’s too late.
Dropping her hand, I list the close calls. “The clinic, your room, your car. How many more times do you think you’ll get lucky?”
Blake sits up straight, her gaze too perceptive. “You’re scared.”
“No, I’m not.” Strenuously, I shake my head in denial. “I’m realistic.”
Blake bites her lip as sympathy colors her eyes.
“Fine.” Abruptly rising to my feet, I cause my chair to roll backward and crash into the wall.
“I’m scared.” I throw my hands up, feelings spilling all over the place.
“From the moment I found out you were back, everything has gone to hell in a handbasket. I know you didn’t do any of it, but it seems to happen around you, which means you’re going to get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”
Blake gets up, scurrying to the door and closing it. She approaches me, her palms making a calming gesture.
“Take a moment and breathe with me,” she entreats in a soothing tone.
Shaking my head, I reply, “Three times, Blake. Three times you could’ve been hurt or worse, and I wasn’t there to step in for any of it.”
Her hands land on my chest, her right one resting over my heart. Maintaining eye contact, her eyes rim with tears. “I’m not worth saving, Walk.”
Is that what she really believes—what she actually thinks about herself?
As a sheriff, I’ve encountered the scum of the earth. Blake Jennings is nothing like them.
Cupping her face with my hands, I stare right back. “Then why do I keep trying?”
“I believe someone once said that’s the definition of insanity.” Blake flashes a sad smile.
“Maybe.” My eyes trace the slope of her neck, the beauty in every inch of her being. “But I’d do it again.” A few tears slip free, and I use my thumbs to wipe them away. Infusing each of my words with vigor, I bring my face closer to hers. “I’d choose you every time, Baby Girl.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and there’s no going back.
“Why me?” Blake’s voice cracks.
This woman.
“Because I don’t know how not to.”
My heart pounds as Blake’s eyes search my face.
Something between us snaps.
“Fuck it,” I curse.
We move at the same time. My arms wind around her waist as hers lock around my neck, and our lips meet in an explosion of heat. We battle each other for dominance of the kiss, our tongues dueling and teeth nipping, making the connection all the more intense.
Her hands shove into my hair, knocking my hat to the ground.
I want her. I need her.
My cock throbs in my pants, desperate for her touch.
Guiding Blake backward, I pick her up by her hips and set her down on the edge of the table. Blake swipes her hand backward, sending the photos and notes flying in every direction.
Blake spreads her knees, making space for me between her thighs, and I eagerly accept her invitation.
Her hands find their way to the buttons of my shirt and get to work. I help her efforts by removing my utility belt and setting it aside. When she finishes with the buttons, she pushes my shirt off my shoulders, and I let it fall to the ground.
I find the hem of her sweater, remove the knitted fabric, and toss it over my shoulder. I make quick work of her pants, panties, and bra.
I step back and drink her in. Her curves, her breasts, her smooth skin.
My mouth practically waters.
My eyes are drawn to a tiny bit of ink on the inside of her hip. “A butterfly?”
“I got it after I sold my first painting.”
Dropping to my knees, I work my lips up her thigh, kissing and nipping at her skin. When I reach her hip, I place a light, tender kiss on the butterfly, causing a contented sigh to slip from her lips.
Rising to my feet, I snag a chair, rolling it toward Blake. I plop down in the seat between her legs peer down at the juncture of her thighs. Her slit glistens with her arousal, and a moan works its way up my throat.
Blake’s hips lift as she leans back on her elbows. “Please, Walk.”
“From the moment I saw you at my crime scene, I’ve wanted this, Blake.”
I drape her right leg over my shoulder, kissing the inside of her knee.
Blake whimpers.
“I’m not going to rush it.”
Her hips lift again, and I place my hand on her stomach, holding her in place.
“I’m going to take my time, Baby Girl.”
My lips land a little higher on her inner thigh. She fights my hold, pushing against my hand.
“Stay still,” I command.
Blake lets out a frustrated grunt, and I smirk.
Drawing out the process, I return to her inner thigh, making my way north with my lips. When I get to her center, I blow out a breath, causing Blake to gasp.