Detour (The Getaway Series Book 5)

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Detour (The Getaway Series Book 5) Page 10

by Jay Crownover


  “Byron is going to run against you.” Delaney provided the name of her ex-husband with a bit of glee as the mayor chuckled. “He’s got a lot of friends in the right places. He’ll make a great sheriff.”

  And he would literally do whatever she told him to do. It was no secret the man was still head over heels in love with his ex-wife. He’d been against the divorce and fought valiantly to not only save his marriage, but to win his wife back once the papers were signed. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he was dumb as a box of rocks, and if he ended up winning the election, there was no way he would be anything more than a name embossed on the door. The mayor and Delaney would call all the shots in Sheridan, which didn’t bode well for anyone who was slightly different, like Cam.

  “I’ve met Byron a time or two. He seems like a stand-up guy, but does he have any experience in law enforcement?” I would eat my hat if the man knew even the basics of the penal code.

  The mayor snorted and rocked back on his heels. “He’s got a master’s degree, and he did a stint in the Reserves when he was younger. He might not have the background you do, but he’s good with people, and he’s not scared to do the right thing. He’s vested in keeping Sheridan the way it always has been. He understands there are some forms of change we’re just not interested in embracing.”

  I bit back a frustrated sigh. That was exactly what I was afraid of.

  The mayor continued to smirk. “I believe Byron would’ve handled the situation at the high school much better. And he has nothing to hide. Can you say the same, Sheriff Collins? If we go digging in your closet, are we going to find more than skeletons? You seemed awfully invested in taking that gay kid’s side.”

  A chill raced up my spine, but I wasn’t going to give this man the satisfaction of knowing he was poking around a little too close to my most tender spots.

  “Maybe you should just abdicate the position before things get really ugly for you, Rodie.” The threat was clear. He wanted to take me down and have the sheriff’s department in the palm of his hand, and he wasn’t going to play fair in order to reach his goal.

  My stomach churned, and I instantly regretted ever taking his support and endorsement.

  “Do what you gotta do. I’m gonna let the job I’ve done and my service record speak for themselves. I choose to have faith that the majority of people don’t think in the same backwards, antiquated way as you and your family.” I moved toward the door. Pulling it open, I inclined my head to the interior of the station. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have some work to finish up.”

  The mayor sauntered out of the office as if he’d won some kind of victory. Delaney was much slower to leave. She paused in the door, dragging one of her fingers across my chest and stopping to tap on my badge. I shifted away from her and narrowed my eyes.

  “Stop touching me without my permission, Ms. Hall. I don’t like it, and it’s very unprofessional.” I was starting to get very sympathetic to any woman who’d ever had to face this kind of sexual harassment in the workplace. Not that I hadn’t been sympathetic before, but now I had first-hand knowledge of how embarrassing and frustrating unwanted attention from someone who could directly impact your career was. I made a mental note to make sure my department was up to date on all their necessary sexual harassment training. I never wanted anyone under my command to feel the way I was feeling right now.

  “This attitude of yours is the problem, Rodie.” She lifted her eyebrows at me, but moved away when I purposely pushed her hand away from me. “I can get Byron to drop out of the election. He’s wrapped around my little finger and only agreed to run against you after I asked him to. Give me what I want, and all this can go away.” She winked at me as I shuddered in revulsion.

  “I’ve tried to be reasonable and polite, but you keep pushing. I’m not interested in you, Delaney, not now, not ever. You aren’t my type, and even if it means I lose the job that means everything to me, I still won’t sleep with you.” I shook my head at her, reaching for the door so I could close it on her disgruntled face. “Stop selling yourself short. You know you’re attractive. You know there are several other men in this town who would gladly give anything to have a shot with you. The only reason you won’t leave me alone is because I said I wasn’t interested. I think you like a challenge, but I can assure you, it’s never going to happen.”

  “Hmm….” She tapped a pointed, blood-red nail against her chin. “I’m starting to get very curious about why it’s never going to happen. You intrigue me, Rodie. One of these days I’m going to figure everything out. Have a good rest of the night, Sheriff.”

  I slammed the door shut once she was gone. I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled until it hurt. I hated nothing more than people prying into my business. It was even worse when they were doing it for the sole purpose of making my life difficult.

  Grumbling out loud, I took a seat behind my desk. I leaned forward until my forehead touched the hardwood. That impending headache was now a full-fledged rager, making my vision slightly blurry and causing my entire skull to feel like it was trapped in a vise. Unfortunately, I still had a job to do, so I pushed through the pounding in my head and the hollow feeling in my gut. When I finished the reports and did a quick check of the night shift, it was well past midnight. I lived in a small, two-bedroom craftsman that wasn’t too far from the station, but for some reason, when I got into my SUV to head home, the idea of walking into my empty, dark, lonely house made my heart hurt.

  It’d been a bad day, and I didn’t want to end it stuck in the vortex of negativity and darkness that I could practically feel swirling around the top of my head.

  I didn’t have Wyatt’s phone number.

  I knew how the man sounded when I sucked on the tip of his tongue, and how he reacted when I bit his bottom lip. I knew that his skin was both smooth and soft, rough and hard in certain spots. I knew his eyes went from a light, periwinkle blue to a stormy, dark navy when he was aroused. And I knew exactly which buttons to push in order to get him to react to me since I loathed the cool indifference he was so good at hiding behind.

  How could all of those intimate details be stored away in my memory, yet I had no way to contact him? It was clear I was pretty much clueless and acting on instinct when it came to dealing with Wyatt Bryant.

  Deciding not to question the desire, or the spontaneity to follow it, I wheeled the SUV around and headed out of town toward the Warner ranch. I didn’t know if Wyatt would be up, or if he would be willing to see me, so it might be a wasted trip. It still seemed like a better option than sulking around my house in a dark mood. I always felt better when I was around Wyatt, and I wasn’t in the mindset to question that.

  I did send a text to Ten, knowing she was a light sleeper, letting her know I was driving out to the ranch so she could warn the others. The last thing I needed was Cyrus or Lane pulling a shotgun on me because I was showing up on their property in the middle of the night unannounced. Being the good friend she was, Ten didn’t ask me why I was suddenly popping up so late, and she told me she wouldn’t mention the late-night visit to Webb, which I appreciated. I wasn’t sure if Wyatt’s younger brother approved of my interest in his sibling, and there was already so much I was working around. I knew Webb’s disapproval might be the last straw in any budding relationship.

  I parked alongside the bunkhouse when I arrived. If I left it parked out front or up by the main house, rumors would fly around town about the sheriff being out at the Warner’s in the middle of the night. People would make up stories to fit a dramatic narrative simply because that’s what folks in small towns did. With all the attention and pressure the mayor was already putting on me, I didn’t need to open the door to anymore gossip.

  I knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to wake Wyatt if he was already asleep. Just the drive out to the ranch had helped clear some of the ugly thoughts swirling in my head, so I wasn’t going to be too upset if it was a wasted trip.

  It wasn’t. Moments later, Wyatt
pulled open the door. He was dressed the same as the last time I dropped by unexpectedly. He was wearing only a pair of low-riding sweatpants that left little to the imagination, and holding a beer in one hand. He was so pretty, even the places on his body that were a tell-tale reminder that his life had been anything but beautiful. His pale eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline as he stared at me in surprise.

  “Rodie? Are you okay? What are you doing here at this time of night?” The concerned look on his face turned my heart over in my chest. It’d been a very long time since anyone was worried about my well-being.

  I let my head drop because it honestly felt too heavy to hold up any longer. “I had a bad day.”

  I jolted slightly when Wyatt’s hand shot out and landed on the side of my neck. His strong fingers dug into a particularly tense spot, and I almost melted at his bare feet.

  “Come on in, Sheriff.” He dropped his hand and motioned into the darkened interior of the room behind him. “Let’s see if we can turn your day around.”

  I followed blindly, mouth going dry at the sight of his muscled back and the flex of his seriously perfect ass. In that moment, I was willing to risk a lot for this man — hell, risk it all — and at some point we were going to have to figure out if he was willing to risk anything for me.

  Wyatt

  He looked like he’d had a bad day. Not that Rodie was typically a smiley, cheerful kinda guy. Tonight, the strain around his pretty green eyes was evident, and the furrow between his burnished eyebrows was deep. He didn’t have his hat on, and his coppery hair looked like he’d been running frustrated fingers through those silken strands for hours. It was against my better judgment to let him in this late while he was in an unpredictable mood, but I couldn’t turn him away. I hadn’t spoken to Rodie since our unexpected kiss in the front of his SUV, not that I was sure what I wanted to say. However, I did spend a good portion of the days that had passed since, wondering if he was obsessing and dissecting every single second our lips had touched the same way I had been. Now that there were no questions left about Rodie’s sexuality, it was much harder to tell myself that he was off-limits and that he should remain that way.

  I waved him toward the small table and asked him if he wanted a drink. He nodded, not bothering to offer up a beverage preference, so I got him a beer. I popped it open and set it on the table in front of him. I took a seat next to him and asked again, “What’s wrong?”

  Rather than answer right away, he reached out and fiddled with the tab on the can. His expression darkened by shades, and his mouth pulled into an angry, flat line. Irritated at the deafening silence, and uneasy with the level of tension snapping in the air around him, I grabbed his chin and forced him to look me in the eye. He was pretty cute when he was all sulky like this, but I still wanted to know what brought him to my door in the middle of the night. “Talk to me, Rodie.”

  After another minute, he finally sighed heavily and caught my hand in his, pulling it away from his face. He didn’t let it go. Instead, his index finger started to randomly trace patterns across the back of it and down the length of my fingers. The absentminded caress made my breath catch in my chest and made other parts of my anatomy perk up with slowly seeping desire.

  “I like my job. When I first ran for sheriff, it was such a long shot. I didn’t really care if I got the position one way or the other, but then the people of Sheridan picked me, and suddenly being the sheriff meant a lot to me. It felt like I’d finally been accepted by the people who spent my entire childhood looking down on me. It was a ridiculous assumption on my part. I got the job because of my service record and because there wasn’t a better option at the time. They never accepted me, but they tolerated me because they didn’t have another choice. Over time I knew I could prove that I deserved the job, and I believe I have. It pisses me off that all that hard work, and all the years of trying to be who this town wants me to be, won’t matter when they finally have options.”

  It was a slightly disjointed rant, but I could hear the concern and worry thick in his deep voice. I was smart enough to pick the important parts out of the rambling diatribe.

  “They found someone to run against you for sheriff? And you’re worried the town will vote for him instead of you when it’s time for the election.” I couldn’t imagine anyone in a hundred-mile radius being more qualified for the position than Rodie, so it seemed unlikely he would lose based on experience and qualifications alone, but I knew that was only part of what motivated small-town voters. I actually understood his worry. I knew when I finally woke up in the hospital with wires and tubes sticking out of me, my time as a field agent was over. Losing the career that defines you, the one that gave you purpose and drive, was unbelievably hard. Shifting the hold he had on my hand, I clasped our palms together and gave a comforting squeeze. “I don’t think you need to worry about anything. You’re clearly the right man for the job. I think you need to have a little more faith in yourself and the people you’ve served throughout the years.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Nothing I’ve done, none of the accomplishments I achieved would mean shit if they knew the real me. Just look who they voted to be the mayor: an asshole who’s openly a bigot.” He sounded so angry and frustrated. I didn’t enjoy watching Rodie struggle, and I was surprised at how badly I wanted to soothe him. I was normally more of a ‘suck-it-up’ kind of guy. He had a point, as much as I hated to admit it. The mayor was obviously homophobic, so it wasn’t a stretch to imagine the rest of the town following his lead if he suddenly turned on Rodie. I couldn’t begin to imagine the pressure he was under to keep up an unflappable front and hide who he really was for the sake of his career.

  Looking down at our entwined hands, a rush of heat pushed through me. “Maybe it’s time to consider going somewhere you don’t have to hide who you really are. Instead of trying to force yourself to fit in, find a place where you actually do. I fully believe you are an excellent law enforcement officer, and if the people of Sheridan can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

  Our eyes locked when I finished my rant, and suddenly a different kind of tension was thick in the air between us. We watched each other silently for a long, drawn-out moment. Our breathing was loud in the quiet space, so was my heartbeat. I wondered if he could hear it. I wondered if he could see the way I reacted to him, even though I didn’t want to. He was the last person I planned on having a crush on. After all, I was a grown-ass man and should have better control over my emotions at this point in my life. But I was having a hard time shaking these feelings off.

  In the blink of an eye, I was suddenly pulled from my seat and sprawled across Rodie’s rock hard thighs in an ungraceful heap as he positioned me on his lap. While I was unsteady, he used his hold on my hand and my own unpredictable balance against me. I ended up straddling him and was almost close enough that the tips of our noses touched. My first instinct was to fight my way free of the arms wrapped tightly around me to keep me in place. I wasn’t a small guy, even in my battered state. I wasn’t used to being manhandled and pulled around by whomever I let get close enough to put their hands on me. I was the one in charge, usually. I was the one who called the shots.

  But not with Rodie.

  For whatever reason, I let him lead, and I happily followed. It was the opposite of my personality, and I couldn’t figure out what it was about him that made me act so differently.

  I put one of my hands on the center of his chest to get some space between us. The strong muscles in his thighs weren’t the only hard part of his body I was currently pressed against. There was no ignoring the way our proximity affected him, and if he didn’t let me pull back, the thin material of my sweatpants was going to reveal that I reacted the exact same way. And if I shifted, just slightly, the hardness I was trying so hard to dismiss was going to be pressed intimately against Rodie’s hardness, which was impossible to ignore.

  “What about you, Wyatt?” One of his eyebrows danced upward, and finally the fr
own on his face lifted. He gave me a lopsided grin that sent shivers racing up and down my spine. I hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt and was suddenly acutely aware of his rough hands on the exposed skin of my back. A shot of insecurity made me double my efforts to put some distance between us. “Do you deserve me?”

  He had called me pretty at the airport, and when he dropped me off at Miranda’s the other day, but I was currently anything but. I hadn’t planned on anyone seeing the wear and tear on my body up close and personal for a long time. I needed to prepare myself mentally for that kind of silent judgment.

  Only, there was nothing but appreciation in Rodie’s green gaze as his eyes raked over the flexing muscles in my arms and chest. He asked if I deserved him, but I didn’t have an answer. I still had no clue if he was a good idea, or the worst one I’d ever had. Fortunately, Rodie didn’t seem interested in getting a reply.

  One of his hands lifted and landed on the back of my head. He pulled me down until our lips lined up. This kiss was softer, less frantic and harsh than our first, but no less memorable. Instead of being in a rush and worrying about being caught, he took his time, savoring every slide and slip of our tongues as they rubbed against one another. This kiss wasn’t stolen. It wasn’t a surprise. It was sweet and slow, and all too easy to sink into.

  The hand I had rested on his chest curled around the back of his neck as I unconsciously pulled him closer. He made a sound of satisfaction as one of his palms skated down the length of my spine. My cock throbbed in response, and I no longer worried about keeping my reaction to him in check. I could feel the heat and hardness behind his zipper pressing insistently against the inside of my thigh. I wanted closer. I wanted more.

  I wanted him.

  I let out a startled sound when he abruptly stood, taking me with him. I jerked my mouth away from his to protest, but I never got the chance. He dropped me with a soft thump onto the top of the wooden table and immediately stepped between my spread legs. I didn’t even care that both of the beer cans went tumbling to the floor. He leaned over me, using his broad shoulders and intense stare to guide me backward. Before I could pull my wits together and get my mind off my throbbing dick, he was hovering over me, pinning me down as he watched me with a wolfish smile and glittering eyes.

 

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