Page 39 of Letting Go

Page List


Font:  

Killian drove behindCedar’s Jeep. Seeing her that first morning, like some kind of erotic Snow White sleeping in the bed he used when work kept him out late, wearing only her lacey bra and panties, all that dark hair spread out over his pillow and after the night he’d had, he wanted to climb into that bed with her. But she’d been with Liam, so that made her off limits.

He should get his head examined, fucking helping her pick out a grill, so she could cook her lover dinner. What the fuck? It was their walk from the other day that had him crossing the store when he saw her. Not many appreciated how serene the silence could be. She seemed to understand it, not filling it with talk, but taking it in, enjoying it. He’d enjoyed the walk, more than he should have.

They pulled down her long drive, and her house came into view. He’d always liked this place. Old man Heller had been a good man. Many thought he was a prick, but he just liked his privacy and expected others to respect that. In thirty more years, Killian would be the old recluse who used his shotgun to keep people off his property.

She drove to the garage, climbed out and opened it, then pulled her Jeep into it. He parked in front of it, got out and noticed the garden she’d added, filled with flowers. Pots of cobalt blue flanked the garage, spilling over with color, as was the large window box hanging under the windows above the garage door.

He looked around, it was really private, and after the shit she pulled the other day. His jaw clenched. Fucking stupidest thing he’d ever seen, her standing toe to toe with Frank. If his fist had connected, he’d have caused serious damage. Frank had taken a spill at the station, a few times. Needed to keep him locked up longer until he found his balance and the bruises healed. He wasn’t likely to come at her, but the man had more muscles than brains and held a grudge. Fucking hell.

“I think I’ll just leave the grill here because Graham and his crew are starting work in two days,” she said when she joined him.

He already knew but still asked, “What are you having done?”

She gave him that look again. Surprised he was talking to her. He bit back the grin. “A covered porch, ripping out the deck in the back and adding a stone patio with a stone fireplace. Replacing the slider door with French doors.”

“Needs a porch,” he said. “Good place for morning coffee.”

She smiled, and he felt that in his gut. “My thoughts exactly.” She turned to him, seemed unsure, but asked anyway. “Would you like something to drink? A cup of coffee or beer?”

“A beer sounds good.”

He’d surprised her again. “Oh, good, okay. Come in,” she said, walking across her lawn to the front door. He didn’t follow immediately, enjoying the view of her ass in her tight jeans. He glanced around. It was quiet out here. Town was safe, but she was alone with no neighbors for miles. He knew she was from New York, understood the wish for privacy and to be left the hell alone, but someone coming from Manhattan to Little Hill, that was a big adjustment. He’d seen the look in her eyes when he asked if she had a death wish. A chill moved through him to realize she did or had. Some wounds didn’t heal she’d said, what was she running from? He told himself he cared because he was the sheriff, and it was his job. He almost convinced himself of the lie.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered again and followed her inside. He wasn’t sure what he expected, that wasn’t true. He expected lots of bright colors and girlie shit, but he was pleasantly surprised. She made the focal point the beauty of the log home, her décor enhancing, not competing with it. She also looked completely moved in.

“You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not working, so I have the time,” she said, her head in the fancy fridge when he entered the kitchen. His eyes drifted down to her ass again. It really was a pretty spectacular ass. She wasn’t skin and bones, which was so popular these days. The woman had curves, and from where he was standing, in all the right fucking places.

She turned to him; he slowly lifted his gaze to her face. A light pink covered her cheeks. She swallowed, which looked difficult. He was tempted to cross the room, push her up against that fancy fridge and kiss her breathless. The thought surprised and annoyed him. He clenched his jaw, reached for the bottle she put on the counter for him, drinking half of it in one long swallow.

“You got a lot of land here,” he said, walking to the slider door and the hill that was just off the deck.

“I’m going to leave most of it alone, just tend the lawn by the house,” she said, then added, “I was thinking about putting in a vegetable garden, using the space over the garage as a kind of greenhouse, but that ranger was out—”

His focus snapped to her. “Sebastian?”

“Yeah, him…he kind of scared me off the idea.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me about rattlesnakes and mountain lions and bears. I was worried about deer and rabbits eating the vegetables, but bears.”

“The bears around here stick mostly to the river, picking off fish. They eat plants, more than people know, but they rarely come this far in.”

She didn’t hide her relief. “And the mountain lions?”

“Never had a problem with them, and I’ve lived here most of my life.”

She leaned back against the counter. “I’m really happy to hear that. I’ve been wanting to take a longer walk around the property, but to be honest, I’ve been a little scared.”

“Living out here alone, you might want to think about getting a dog.”

“I went to the shelter, but there are no dogs at the moment. Natalie will call if that changes.”

A movement out of the corner of his eye had him turning to see a black cat strolling into the kitchen.

“That’s Lucifer,” she said. “He was the only animal in the shelter. He’s mean and belligerent, but the idea of him all alone...”


Tags: L.A. Fiore Erotic