The one I know. Very well.
Intimately, in fact.
Out of all the bars in all of Montana, I stopped at the one whereshewas for a bachelorette party. Fuck.Fuck!
“Peterson, what now?” Chance demands.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chance cross his arms over his chest. I don’t look away from…her.
From Sadie.
“Brought my partner today,” Peterson says. “Sadie Hopkins.”
Unlike the night before, when she was in an easily-liftable skirt, Sadie is now in jeans and a white blouse with a few modest buttons undone exposing the cotton of a tank top—no cleavage in sight. Her hair, which was silky soft between my fingers, is pulled back in a low ponytail. She has a gun in a holster at her hip along with a shiny badge clipped to her leather belt. I sure as hell find it sexy, comparing the woman from the night before to the one standing in front of me.
I don’t see any handcuffs on her belt, but I wouldn’t mind her pulling them out for a little fun.
Although… She might be more motivated to put them on me or one of my brothers for a less pleasant reason.
Murder.
Her dark eyes are wide and her full lips—which I wish I had sampled—are in a thin line.
She doesn’t say a word.
At least her name reallyisSadie. At the bar, I shared mine with her but nothing else. Not because I wanted it to be a secret. We didn’t talk about our jobs. We didn’t talk about anything except how her party friends were expected to do something daring—in her case, to give a man her panties.
And she chose me.
The second our eyes connected—yeah, it sounds corny as fuck—but the ridiculous chemistry between us was insane. My dick was hard when she was pulled off my finger and onto the dance floor. It was hard all the way back to the ranch and only went down when I rubbed one out in the shower. And then only for a short time because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Now, I’m instantly hard all over again.
Fuck, I feel the pull now, like a living thing between us. My heart pounds and my dick throbs. My fingers itch to brush over her soft skin, to get back inside her pussy and give her that orgasm we were both denied.
“Austin Bridger.”
I have to snap out of my stare or I’m going to get both of us in big fucking trouble.
I have no intention of letting anyone know I had my hands on one of the police officers investigating the death on the ranch. That I know how she looks when she’s aroused, that she makes a little whimper when my finger’s in her pussy. That she doesn’t mind a little exhibitionism. I’m not a sharer, but that was hot as hell.
What we did on our own time—even in front of an entire bar—isn’t for anyone else to know about. I don’t kiss and tell or ruin someone’s career by being an asshole. Especially if I’m interested in a potential round two.
I pull my head out of my ass and offer her my hand. “Miles.”
She nods and a pretty flush spreads across her cheeks.
Peterson clears his throat. “Any chance we can go inside and sit down? It’s a hot day.”
Chance tenses.
“The porch is nice and shady,” I offer. “After a morning counting calves, this’ll be a nice break.”
No way is Peterson getting in the house to look around without a warrant. And I need a little time to come to terms with Sadie from the bar being Sadie, the detective.
I still want her in my bed, preferably naked and without her badge, gun, and warrant.
Peterson’s jaw clenches, but he returns to the rocker he vacated when we came up.