Detour (The Getaway Series Book 5)

by Jay Crownover

  Feeling disoriented and numb, I just blinked up at the other man, forcing him to repeat his question several times. Rodie got frustrated at my lack of response and reached out a hand to grab my chin. He forced my head back, making me meet his unwavering gaze. “Come on, pretty boy. Tell me what I’m looking for so I can get you out of here and into a nice, soft bed. If you faint on me and I have to throw you over my shoulder to get you out to the car, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Holy hell. The combination of his touch and the visuals that assaulted my senses was breathtaking. I apparently took too long to answer because he grunted, reminding me he was awaiting my response.

  “Oh, uh, look for two matching gray Samsonite bags.” I gave my head a shake and narrowed my eyes up at him. “Don’t make fun of me when I can’t fight back.”

  I watched Rodie’s eyes widen as he straightened, his hold on my chin tightening. “Make fun of you? What in the hell are you talking about?” His deep voice changed to an angry rumble.

  I swatted at the hand holding my face, trying to get him to back off. “Pretty boy. I may have been at one point, but we both know that’s no longer the case. I’m well aware I look like someone who survived being tossed in a wood chipper.”

  He made a sound deep and low in his broad chest and took a step closer to me. I could feel the tension vibrating off his big body, and I shifted anxiously on the uncomfortable bench.

  A shocked gasp escaped my lips when the pad of Rodie’s thumb suddenly slid across the curve of my bottom lip. I literally stopped breathing at his touch. The warmth of his hand disappeared a second later as he finally fell back a step and put some space between us.

  “You’re alive, Special Agent. That’s a beautiful thing, no matter who’s looking at it. And you...” He shook his head slightly and turned when the conveyor belt with the luggage started moving. “Pretty sure it’ll take more than a couple of bullet holes and a cane to make you anything other than pretty.”

  He didn’t have to push through the crowd to get to the front of the group. They automatically parted for him. I was left staring at his wide back, the muscles there stretching his ugly uniform to its limits. I shook my head and lifted a shaking hand to touch my lips.

  I had no idea what game Rodie was playing with me, but I didn’t like it. He already had my insides tied in knots whenever I was around him. But this was something else entirely. My insides were bursting into flames, and he was stoking the fire. I never kept my sexuality a secret, but it wasn’t something I advertised or openly discussed with anyone who wasn’t in my inner circle. There were a lot of interesting things about me; who I slept with didn’t even top the list most days.

  When she was alive, my mother had hated me and the fact I was gay. She went out of her way to make sure I knew how disappointed and disgusted she was in me. The military was also less than open-minded, no matter how much progress had been made in recent years. The DEA was another organization that had some pretty tricky social standards to navigate when it came to being open and upfront about an agent’s private life. My entire life, I’d kept quiet unless asked directly, which was a policy that had always worked well for me. However, Rodie definitely knew that I was gay. He’d overheard a conversation I’d had with a confused and miserable teenager not too long ago. He was a lost and alone young man one of the Warner brothers brought home who needed a sympathetic ear. The poor kid really thought being gay was the end of the road for him, and that it was the reason his short life had been so tragic. He honestly thought that he had no job prospects or options other than selling his body on the streets.

  I’d promised him that being gay didn’t mean a damn thing in the long run if you were qualified and worked hard. I told him to stop defining himself by his sexuality and to start defining himself as the kind, caring young man he was. I didn’t realize Rodie was lurking around the corner for the duration of the conversation. I expected some kind of judgment from the aggressively masculine sheriff. He reminded me so much of the guys I used to serve with back in the day. None of them had been known for their tolerance and understanding. Rodie already thought that those of us from the city had no place in his western oasis. But, to my surprise, he never said a word; he simply asked the teenager to let him know if he had any problems and promised that he wouldn’t tolerate bullying or discrimination in Sheridan, regardless of the situation.

  So, Rodie had to know when he touched me the way he did, I’d read into it.

  Sulking and quickly succumbing to the pain flowing through every limb and nerve, I spaced out and slumped down on the bench. It had been a long ass day and my mind and body were shutting down. That had to be why I was freaking out over this situation. It had to be.

  I had no idea how much time passed, but it felt like only seconds later when a wide hand slapped down on my shoulder and roughly shook me awake. My eyes snapped open and I was face-to-face with Rodie. He looked concerned and slightly pissed off.

  “Exactly how badly are you hurt, Wyatt? Do we need to take you to the ER before hitting the road?” His eyes roved over me, and I could see worry stamped clearly on his face.

  I flicked his hand away, and slowly, painstakingly, climbed to my feet. “I’m fine. Or I will be. I’m going to take a painkiller and sleep once we get to the car. You don’t need to worry about me, Sheriff.”

  Rodie manhandled my two suitcases as I followed him toward the airport exit. I was lost in thought, struggling to stay upright, when I thought I heard him mutter, “But I do, Special Agent.”

  I convinced myself I was just overly tired and in too much pain to be thinking clearly. I needed my medication and some sleep. There was no way this bossy, grumpy, straitlaced cowboy was wasting a single second thinking about me in any kind of personal way.

  I refused to let myself fall for such an unrealistic fantasy.

  Rodie

  Stupid, stubborn man.

  No one, and I mean no one, got under my skin and riled me up like Wyatt Bryant.

  He refused to use the cane—that he’d been clutching like a lifeline when he got off the plane—in front of his younger brother. He was stubborn, and his pride was going to land him on his ass at Webb’s feet before the day was over. I watched him nearly fall over twice when he shook me off, and I could hear the way his breathing went ragged when he tried to manhandle his suitcases out of my service vehicle. He was too proud to ask for help, and too hard-headed to give in when assistance was forced on him. He wasn’t behaving like someone who’d nearly died on the operating table a couple of months ago. He was acting like someone who had yet to accept their new limitations and refused to settle into their new normal.

  When we first met, I hated everything about his suave, slick, metropolitan demeanor. I could tell he thought my position as sheriff in my small town was beneath him. He flashed that federal badge of his in my face every single time our paths crossed, and as a result, we butted heads and exchanged sharp words on a fairly regular basis. I always called him ‘city boy,’ more to remind myself there was an unbridgeable gap that existed between the two of us than to annoy him, but his prickly reaction to the nickname was always fun to watch. Only today, I hadn’t wanted to poke and prod at the man when he was so obviously still on the mend, both mentally and physically. Instead, I had the nearly overwhelming urge to take care of him, to coddle him and shelter him from all the really nasty shit guys in our line of work had to go through regularly. Being a law enforcement officer was no joke, and it really sucked when you were cast out, after years of service and sacrifice, just because your body gave out on you. It wasn’t fair, and it was easy to see the heartbreak and betrayal Wyatt was still processing. There were multiple levels of pain radiating out of the man’s periwinkle eyes.

  So, when I accidentally let it slip how pretty I thought he was, I decided to own it. I knew he wouldn’t believe the words anyway, and he would just write them off as another annoying nickname. Wyatt tended to focus on how much we didn’t have in common and blat
antly ignore the things we did. Since the former DEA agent was determined to turn a blind eye to the obvious attraction I had toward him, I had no other choice but to make my intentions clear to his younger brother. Webb and Wyatt were close. I knew anything I said to one was going to get back to the other. Once I’d dropped a veritable bomb at Webb’s feet by telling him, in no uncertain terms, that I wanted to help Wyatt loosen some of that rigid control he held onto so tightly, I knew the message was bound to make it to him sooner or later.

  I left Webb, who was looking slightly alarmed at my interest in his brother, feeling undeniably pleased with myself. Satisfied Wyatt was in good hands, I radioed my station to let them know I was on the way back into town. The Warner’s ranch was located well outside of Sheridan, as were most of the sprawling properties that had been in the local families for generations. It wasn’t a quick trip to get anywhere in the area, but luckily Sheridan was a pretty quiet town, and my staff was self-sufficient when I had other obligations. We rarely had the kind of major crime that required the sheriff to be hands-on. It was mostly stupid petty crime and public disturbances at the height of tourist season.

  When I first came back to Wyoming after the service, I didn’t have any plans to stay.

  In fact, I’d been in a situation very similar to Wyatt’s. I thought I was going to be a career soldier; I was planning to serve my country until I was too old or killed in action. I was devoted, good at my job, and didn’t have any family or significant other waiting for me back home. Only, no one told me that I needed a backup plan in case I was only nearly killed in action but somehow managed to pull through. Near death, bitter and angry at the world, I didn’t have much choice but to take a former commanding officer up on his offer to go back to Sheridan and recuperate. I never planned on returning to my small hometown, but here I was.

  Sheridan hadn’t been easy on my mother when she showed up as a pregnant teenager. My father was nonexistent, and my mother’s aunt and uncle took her in and begrudgingly raised both of us. They were no longer around. My first commanding officer had heard me talk about my hometown enough when I was a new recruit that he became curious about the unspoiled beauty of Wyoming. I had no idea I spoke of my home with such longing after I tried so hard to leave it behind. I thought I hated the place, and all my memories of growing up were tainted and ugly. I loathed being reminded almost daily that I was nothing more than an accident and a burden. Eventually, I changed units through different promotions and deployments, and I was unaware that my first CO had retired and taken off for the wilds of Wyoming based solely on the tales I told. It wasn’t until I was hurt and abandoned by the people for whom I’d nearly given my life, that I found myself back where I started.

  It took almost two full years for my body to heal and for me to get my mind mostly right. In that time, I fell back in love with the wide-open spaces and wild Wyoming landscape. I was never going to be a rancher or a farmer. I was never going to work on an oil rig or be a tour guide. Luckily, by the time I was back on my feet, the local sheriff decided to retire, and my former commander encouraged me to run for his position. I had zero ties to the community, so I thought it was a long shot. Out of ideas and with no plan for my future, it was a Hail Mary that luckily paid off. With my sterling service record my former commander’s endorsement, I won the election, even if it was by a very narrow margin.

  It was always my main priority not to betray the trust the people of Sheridan put in me. I was an outsider, even though I grew up here, so I knew I had to work twice as hard and be extra sensitive to what the locals expected of me. That was one of the main reasons I’d yet to tell Wyatt that feeling lost after being injured on the job was only one of the things we had in common.

  I was pretty sure no one in Sheridan or the surrounding area knew I was gay. I didn’t talk about it. Didn’t advertise it. And if I was lonely and looking for company for a couple nights, I drove to Cheyenne or even to Billings. I didn’t want anyone up in my business, and I didn’t want anything to rock the boat in my new life.

  But, there was no getting around the fact that I was very interested in Wyatt. I was intrigued from the start and struggled to hide it. The man disappeared in the Wyoming wilderness when he went rogue on one of his assignments from the DEA. I was beyond impressed that he managed to keep himself alive in the harsh terrain, and that he somehow managed to evade an entire cartel network for weeks with no backup. He brought down the entire syndicate with the help of his brother, his former partner, and the Warner brothers, all while acting like it was just another day on the job. It was rare to encounter someone so dedicated to justice at any cost and so cool in any situation.

  Not long after the incident in the mountains, both Webb and Wyatt had to face the sudden appearance of a long-lost brother neither knew about. Webb’s twin was pure evil, and he put the Bryant brothers through the wringer on multiple levels. Still, Wyatt stood by his younger brother through thick and thin, even as the truth of their terrible childhood and horrible upbringing threatened to tear them apart. The guy was a rock, reliable and unwavering. I found his loyalty and determination to be there for those he loved incredibly endearing and attractive.

  I liked his polished look. Pretty boys weren’t typically my thing, but Wyatt looked like a slightly damaged Disney prince with his golden hair, tinted with just a hint of silver in the thick strands. His eyes were the most unusual shade of bluish-purple, like the wildflowers that grew in the fields surrounding the town. He looked every inch the special agent, and all I wanted to do was ruffle his perfectly styled hair and make his one-of-a-kind eyes go hazy with lust. Wyatt Bryant had spent more time wandering in my very vivid dreams than I cared to admit.

  Now that he was going to be on my turf for the foreseeable future, I was thinking maybe it was time to make those dreams a reality… as long as it was done discreetly. I wanted Wyatt, without a doubt. There was something different about him, and something different about how I felt when I was around him. Maybe it was because I was getting older. Maybe it was because I had no idea how long he was going to be in Wyoming, and I couldn’t stand the thought of missing a shot with him. Something made me want to toss my regular rules out the window. But I doubted my interest in the other man would go over well with the people I was paid to protect and serve. The locals were good, hard-working people, but a solid number were far from open-minded. A gay sheriff would go over as well as rain at an outdoor wedding.

  I stayed lost in thought all the way back to town, flicking a wave at whomever I passed along the way. When I got to the sheriff’s station, the sun was going down and the day shift was transitioning over to the night team. I caught up on anything I missed, but it was all typical calls, nothing that was cause for concern. I gave the evening crew a short debriefing and told them I would be in my office for a few hours if anything serious popped up.

  I took off my hat and tossed it on my seriously messy desk. I needed a cup of coffee and some dinner. I’d dropped everything in an embarrassingly eager manner when Ten called and asked me to get Wyatt from the airport. I was starving, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend time with Wyatt one-on-one, even in his current condition. I’d take whatever I could get with that man. I was about to paw through the mess of paperwork on my desk to look for one of the few delivery menus lost in the chaos when there was a knock on my office door. It opened before I could respond to the sound, and a small, dark-haired woman immediately swept into the space.

  Delaney Hall was the assistant to the mayor of Sheridan and the daughter of one of the town’s wealthiest families. It wasn’t uncommon for her to stop by during business hours, even during non-business hours. She and her husband had divorced recently, and it was no secret that she was looking at me to fill his place in her life and, more importantly, in her bed. I’d told her more times than I could count that I wasn’t interested, but the woman was determined and not used to hearing the word ‘no.’

  “I’ve been trying to catch you all day.�
�� She flashed a smile at me. She was an attractive woman, if a little on the sharp and predatory side. I admired her ambition and her desire to help the town prosper, but we weren’t friends, and I had no intention of getting close to her.

  “Had some personal things to take care of. You could’ve just left a message and I would’ve called you back when I had a free minute.” I dragged a hand down my face and looked at my desk. “I’m going to clean up, catch up on paperwork, grab some dinner, and head out for the night.” I wasn’t trying to be rude, but spending time dodging her advances was not what I considered a good time. I needed coffee and food, stat.

  She made a noise and carefully used a manicured fingernail to clear one corner of my desk so she could prop her hip on its edge.

  “I haven’t eaten yet either. Why don’t we grab something together?” The suggestion in her tone was unmistakable.

  I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. Like I said, I still have work to do. What can I do for you this evening, Ms. Hall?”

  She rolled her eyes at me and tilted her chin defiantly, something I noticed she did when I rejected her advances.

  “You know the elections are coming up soon, right? The mayor wanted to make sure you know you have his endorsement, should you need it, of course.” Her smile was a little too pointed for my liking. Her unspoken insinuation was pretty blatant, and I had no doubt this woman would make a terrifying enemy. It annoyed me that the mayor was riding my coattails during the elections. He hadn’t done much for the town since the last elections, but he thought endorsing me would put him in a good light with the voters. He called us a team, but I could barely stand the man.