Chapter Nine
They rode sideby side in the moonlight, the horses picking their own path and taking their time.
Dan was in no hurry either. When they got to the ranch they’d be back among people and he liked having Jazz all to himself. The downside to the open house he’d planned with her in mind was that somehow, it had morphed into a family weekend retreat.
Each of the ranch house’s three separate wings had six bedrooms—he had no idea why, since they were all single men, but Ryan had insisted—and Dan’s parents, his sisters and their husbands, and the youngest nieces and nephews had commandeered all five of the spare rooms in his. Dallie and Ryan’s homes had been similarly invaded. While Ryan had no family he laid claim to, not since his mother passed away a few years ago, he loved hanging out with Dan and Dallie’s. The bunkhouses were full of teenagers and young adults. No danger in that.
He could hardly suggest Jazz spend the remainder of the night with him when the two sets of twin terrors rose at the crack of dawn and knew where he slept. As much as he loved his nieces and nephews, he knew whose face he’d rather wake up to.
She helped him unsaddle the horses, then bed them down for the night. Once that was finished, they started up the path to the house. Someone had a guitar out and people were singing. It was mostly off-key and the accuracy of the lyrics could be called into question. No one in this crew was going to make it onAmerica’s Got Talent.
These were the people he loved most in the world and he liked how well Jazz had fit in with them earlier.
She veered off toward the garage, where she’d parked her bike.
“Aren’t you coming back to the party?” he asked.
She tucked the short skirt of her dress between her thighs and swung one leg over the seat of the bike. “It’s got to be well after midnight. The guys will think I’m dead in a ditch.”
He eyed the bike. They’d have good reason to think that. “Let me get my keys and I’ll drive you home.”
She smiled up at him as she raised the kickstand with her foot. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” With a flick of her thumb and her wrist, the engine rumbled to life.
He hooked his thumbs in the waist of his jeans and watched her ride off. She had no jacket. No helmet, either. And there was no law against it.
He sighed. He hadn’t even gotten a kiss good night. He hoped she didn’t assume this was a one-off, because if so, she was sadly mistaken.
On the one hand, it was a significant benefit to the Endeavour that she was so committed to her career. The base gave him no worries at all while she was in charge. She knew what she was doing and had everything under control.
On the other hand, however…
Her aversion to commitment put any issues he might have on that same subject to shame. Chasing after women who didn’t want to be caught didn’t exactly catapult him into the genius arena, either. The trouble was, now that he’d had a sample of what Jazz had to offer, he hungered for more.
He never learned.
He had no urge to face a family inquisition just yet on a subject he didn’t understand either, so he veered into the garage for a few quiet moments. He groped for the switch on the wall and the room flooded with light. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he and Ryan—who was seated at the wheel of a really sweet, steel-blue AMG S65 sedan—blinked at each other.
Dan did a mental double take. Ryan had some odd personal quirks, but this was weird, even for him. What was he doing sitting in a car in the garage at one in the morning with all the lights out?
“Hey, Bruce Wayne. Got anything you’d like to talk about?”
“Not really,” Ryan said.
Dan shut off the overhead light. The luminous moon glowed through the roof panels, bright enough for him to navigate his way to the car. He popped the passenger door open, crammed his considerable body inside, and sank into the embrace of the softest leather his butt had ever encountered. There was a lot to be said for riding in comfort—he got that, because as a county sheriff, he spent a lot of time in his car—but this was extreme.
“Where’ve you been hiding all day?” he asked.
“I took a drive to Greybull.”
“Greybull… as in Wyoming?” That was four hours away. An eight-hour round trip.
Ryan nodded.
Dan scrubbed his eyebrow with his thumb. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“Sure you don’t have anything you’d like to talk about?”