Chapter Eight
Beau
" B eau, I gotta fucking pee and you're supposed to be working. You need to let me go."
"But dancing with you is so much better than work, Joey girl," I growl into her ear as I dip her over my shoulder. Her leg slides up to my hip, and I can't stop my hand from traveling down the expanse of bared flesh.
When I right her, she's out of my arms in a blink of an eye, and I have no idea how the hell she even did it. I take a step towards her, my hands outstretched, when she shakes her head.
"We've put on enough of a show for the town. Go work while I tend to my friends."
"Fine, if you insist. Thanks for the dance." I snag her hand and bring it to my lips for a kiss.
We part ways, and I find it hard to tear my eyes away from Jo, but I'm eventually forced to when I lose her in the crowd.
As the night wears on and the booze continues to flow, the energy starts to shift. It's so subtle that I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been a cop for so long.
I make my way closer to Thatcher, who's standing on the periphery and watching the girls let loose, and check in with him. He's tense as he scans the crowd.
"You feel it too?"
Thatcher's only response is a nod in confirmation.
"You know these folks more than I do. If this powder keg that's brewing goes off, what should I be expecting?"
"What do you mean?"
I flick my eyes to the side.
Thatcher's brows furrow, but his eyes don't leave Jo and her friends on the dance floor.
"Well, how do these good-ole-boys like to throw down? Is it gonna be a bare-knuckle brawl, or do they like to bring guns to a knife fight?"
"Brawl if anything. They might be ready to cause a ruckus from all the alcohol consumed, but they know better than to bring guns out to something like this.
Way too many people around these parts carry, and if one person pulls a gun, you can bet your ass another twenty will have theirs drawn and pointin' too. "
"Well, let's hope that doesn't happen. But if something does go down, you get the girls outta here, okay?"
Thatcher lets out a snort. "I'll do my best, but your girl out there is probably the deadliest outta the lot of 'em."
I raise a brow in question, but he plows ahead.
"As long as nobody who can't protect themselves isn't the target, I should be able to snag 'em, but I can't guarantee ya nothing."
"I don't wanna hear you'll try; just do it. I won't be able to do my job if I think she's in danger."
Thatcher guffaws. “I don't think Jo's been in danger a day since she was thirteen. She's tough as nails and deadly to boot. But maybe you need to find that out the hard way since you don't seem to be picking it up from me."
"Just watch out for them," I huff and move along the perimeter.
I'm on the opposite side of the party from Thatcher, Jo, and her friends when the match is finally lit and the keg explodes. In an instant, the dancing and hooting turns into chaos. People are fleeing the area as a mess of men fight not far from where I last saw Jo.
I use my training and my years of playing football to clear people out of my way. Panic fills me as I lose sight of Jo. I know I should be helping the citizens I'm encountering, but I need to get to the center of this and make sure she's alright.
I break through a group of people fighting, to go the opposite direction, when I'm stopped in my tracks. The crowd is backing up, forming a circle around several men going at it, but that's not what pulls me up short. I see auburn hair, and Jo's sleek frame as she dances in the middle of the chaos.
I step closer because I need to get to her. I need to know what the fuck is going on.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Thatcher trying to break into the mayhem, but his progress is just as slow as my own. In front of me, a guy goes flying, giving me my first clear view of Jo. She's in a defensive fighting stance.
What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck out of there!
But she doesn't budge.
A man approaches her, and in a blink of an eye, she has him flat on his back. That's the moment Thatcher scoops up someone from the ground and fights his way out of the circle as he hollers at Jo. When he finally turns, I see he's got Sammie in his arms.
But Jo's still not leaving.
Damnit, woman . Get out of this shit show before I kill someone for touching you.
She's drawn the attention of a few guys who are quickly closing in on her.
I'm fighting my way to Jo, but I'm finding it hard to comprehend what I'm seeing. Now, my Joey isn't a small girl, but these are good old homegrown farm boys she's squaring up with.
She's lithe and lethal as she takes them down, one by one. Even when they try to approach her at the same time, they're no match for Jolene.
My gut sinks as a meaty hand connects with her jaw, and I fight like hell to get to her. But to my surprise, she shrugs it off and takes him out.
The remaining guys have stopped their fighting and are watching Jo annihilate their friends. There are only two left standing, their eyes trained on Jo.
They don't see me sneaking up behind them, but my Joey girl does. With a slight nod from her, we both strike.
My guy goes down like a stack of potatoes, not expecting anyone to come up behind him. Jo's fairs much worse when her fist connects with his nose.
Blood pours from his wound as he bellows, "You stupid fucking cunt. You broke my nose!"
"You're lucky it's your nose and not your fingers, Ricky. Would be mighty hard to work the rigs if they’re all snapped in half."
"Fuck you, DuVall."
"No, thanks. I've got standards," Jo sasses.
I can tell that Ricky would love to take another go at her, but luckily for him, he's smart enough to leave things be.
I scan the area while I slip the zip ties on the wrists of the idiot I took down. Where the fight broke out, my deputies are detaining people all over, as are some of the good folks of Aspen Hollow.
"I'll take it from here, Joey girl."
She shrugs, her head held high and her arms crossed over her chest.
I have so many conflicting emotions racing through me right now, but the biggest is panic when I see her walking off towards her friends. I know she's okay, but I won't feel better until I've checked her over myself.
"Jolene."
She stops, her hackles raised as she turns around and glares at me.
"Don't go far, ya hear? We need to have some words."
"Fine. But I'm going to check on Sammie."
"You do that but stay put," I yell at her back.
She flips me off over her shoulder, which makes me growl in frustration.
It takes longer than I'd have liked to get everyone rounded up after the brawl. Several of them head down to the jail to sleep it off in the drunk tank.
True to her word, Jo checks on Sammie, then plops her fine ass down on a hay bale to wait for me.
Thatcher takes Sammie home, and at some point, Laura and Taylor leave.
I know the longer I let Jo stew, the more pissed she'll be, but I need to make sure whatever fight we were about to have is going to be behind closed doors.
From talking to the rest of the town, it seems like the fight got started over spilt beer and grabby hands. Nobody can tell me how Jo and Sammie got caught up in the mix, other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Even Thatcher wasn't quite sure what happened. Sammie didn't seem to be hurt at all. From what Jo said, he thinks Sammie just panicked and hit the deck. Thatcher thought it looked like Jo was trying to get Sammie out of there when she somehow got pulled into the fight.
Now that everyone is gone and there are only a few folks left, cleaning up the mess so we don't attract any wild animals, it’s time for us to talk.
Slowly walking towards her, I don't know if I should gird my loins or scoop her up and fuck her. "You ready to get out of here, Joey girl?"
"I've been waiting on your ass, so I'd say yeah."
"Well, alright then. We gonna have a knockout drag-out?" I match her stance with my legs wide and my arms crossed.
"That depends."
"Oh yeah? On what?"
"On whether you're a smart man or a stupid one."
"Hmm, I'd like to think the former, but maybe we should take this someplace more private."
"Fine," she grits out, then spins on her boot and stomps off towards my truck.
Jogging to catch up, I grab her hand. The only reaction I get is her quick inhale, but otherwise, she's all sorts of pissed off.
When we get to my truck, I'm reluctant to take my hands off her, so I scoop her up and set her inside.
Her legs are spread, allowing my hips and body close to her.
My hands find the smooth skin of her thighs as my fingers trail up until they find purchase on her waist, where they caress the bare strip of skin on her taut stomach.
My eyes devour her from her boot-covered feet to her heaving chest in that barely there top.
The streetlight shines on her, and I can already see a bruise forming on her tanned jaw. I can't help but run my thumb, then my mouth, over that spot.
When I pull away, her eyes are wide and her breaths are coming faster. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss those pouty lips, but I need her words more than I need her body right now.
Leaning across her, I buckle her seatbelt, then spin her legs in and shut the door.
The drive to my place takes forever. The tension in the truck is like a live wire, just waiting to spark and light the whole thing up. My skin is crawling with the chemistry passing between us, making it damn near impossible to focus on the road.
Jo doesn't say anything as we pull up to my place. I'm surprised when she waits patiently for me to open the door for her, and allows me to guide her out of the truck. She's still spitting mad, but there's a vulnerability about her right now that I can't place.
As we make our way up the steps, I can hear Cooper losing his mind. When I open the door, he flies past me, heading straight towards Jo.
"Hey, Coop. Who's a good boy?" She loves on him as he tries to kiss her whole face.