“What was that about?” she asked as soon as they were alone. Brady waved a hand. “Just shop talk, not something I want to get into tonight. You’ve been on my mind all damn day, I want to hear more about you, Gwyn.” His gaze bore into hers with intensity.
She sucked in a breath, considering how much, and what to tell him. She didn’t want to be dishonest, but she had learned the hard way that she needed to do what was necessary to protect herself. And him not knowing her background was for the best.
“Well, it’s a pretty boring story, I’m afraid. I’m from Dallas originally, just arrived in town a few days ago from there. No siblings, and my mom passed when I was in high school. Never knew my dad,” she finished, pausing to take a sip of water. He was studying her so intently, as if he was genuinely interested in hearing about her background.
The waiter arrived to take their order. Glancing at her, Brady asked, “Do you trust me? I think I know what you might like.” Blushing, she nodded. Giving him the okay to go ahead and order for the both of them. Lawrence never would have asked, he would have made the assumption without consulting her at all, a fact that always infuriated her.
“A bottle of chardonnay please, and a garden salad each to start. Then the seafood sampler to share.” Brady rattled off his selections without even opening the menu. He certainly was a man that knew what he wanted.
“Excellent choices, sir. I will be right back with your wine.” The waiter nodded at them, his eyes lingering on Gwyn. Nervous, she twitched in her seat, until he finally turned and left.
Brady frowned, not pleased with the waiter’s open attention on Gwyn. Taking her hand across the table, he continued their conversation. “So, why Durham Heights? This town is quite a change from Dallas.” In the dark, his blue eyes glowed bright, boring into hers.
“To be honest, I’m looking for a fresh start. Somewhere that I can build myself a better life.” That was as close to the truth as she was willing to get. “What about you? The same applies to you—this is a huge change from the Big Apple.” His eyes clouded over at her mention of his move. The waiter came back with their wine and catching Brady’s glare, tactfully kept his stare averted from Gwyn while he poured them each a glass and left them alone.
“I needed the change of scenery. New York is a great city, but on the side of the law, it’s a tough city. It was time for me to move on.” Gwyn knew there was more to the story than he was telling, but she was the last person that would push for details.
The rest of the meal flowed comfortably. Brady was charming and engaging, making her laugh with some of the citizen’s antics and the outrageous calls the department would get. She shared a few of the more interesting stories from her road trip, the most hilarious being the car full of clowns she drove beside for 20 miles on the freeway.
When the bill came and Brady went to pay it, she had a small moment of guilt. “I can pay…” He silenced her with a look. “No. I told you, this is my treat, Gwyn.” Her name on his lips was like a bolt of lightning of desire through her body. She had a flash of hearing him shout her name while raised above her, slipping his cock into her repeatedly.
Eyes downcast, she nodded while she squirmed and tried to get a hold of herself. This man was wreaking havoc on her emotions—she had never wanted someone the way she wanted him. Seeing her discomfort and guessing the reason, Brady hurriedly threw a few bills down on the table and grabbed her hand.
“Let’s go,” he told her. Her blushes, her laugh and her scent flowing between them was driving him mad. He had to get her alone now before he dove his hands into her hair and kissed her senseless here in front of all these people. Fuck, he was so screwed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The drive back to her apartment was filled with the crackling energy of desire. Something had changed at the restaurant, their connection had aligned and the passion had ignited. Or so she thought. Brady didn’t speak a word to her the entire way back, his jaw was tight and ticking as she stared over at him. Had he not had a good time? Parking outside her building, he came around to her door and opened it, tugging her out.
Walking up the back steps to her door, anticipation danced inside her. His words from that morning played over in her head. Would he really kiss me senseless like he promised? Did he still want to? Did she want him to? She fumbled in her purse for the key Joan had given her, waiting for him to make a move. Nothing happened after a few seconds of her pretending to be searching her purse. Casting a small smile at him she realized he must have changed his mind. Surprised at how disappointed she felt, she sighed and pulled out the key.
Of course, he didn’t want to kiss her. He was drop dead gorgeous, ridiculously sexy, funny. And who was she? She was way out of her league here. Brady suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her to face him. Caught off guard, she dropped her purse, its contents spilling onto the ground.
“Brady, what—” her words were cut off as his mouth descended on hers, capturing her breath. He slanted his lips over hers softly at first and then with more urgency as she felt herself sink into his touch. Gwyn became alive in his arms, melting into his body completely. This man was overtaking everything that she was, everything that she was trying to be.
His hands cupped her ass in a firm grip, squeezing once before running up her back to fit her to him more closely. The feel of his hard body pressed against her had her moaning into his mouth, her lips parting just enough for his tongue to sweep inside and claim hers. Moving from her lips to her ear he grasped her lobe between his teeth biting down lightly. She arched into him, the fire of desire was a deep burn she felt all the way down to her toes. “More,” she begged, grasping his shirt tightly.
“Inside. Now.” He ordered. She somehow managed to slide the key into the lock, shoving the door open. With a predatory look in his eye, he stalked her backwards into the room, pausing only to kick the door shut. As soon as her back hit the wall, he was on her. His lips reclaimed hers in a scorching kiss as his hands started to tug her dress up her thighs.
“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so damn sweet.” Kissing down her neck, his hands trailed up her bare legs and found her black lace panties, stopping when he felt the moisture of her desire there. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned. He ran his index finger down the length of her. Slow. Tantalizing. Gwyn moaned and bucked against him. Her hands started to reach for his belt, tugging at it impatiently. “Not yet, sugar.” He grabbed her hands. He maneuvered them to her couch, laying her back and covering her body with his.
He dominated her in every way; his scent was overpowering; his body was a delicious weight on top of hers. He was showing no mercy in taking what she offered, releasing a dark passion she didn’t know she had locked inside her. He was fierce, intense, and all male. His hard cock was relentless in its teasing, and had her moaning and chasing his length with her hips. “Brady,” his name was a sigh on her lips, not caring that she was begging. “I need you—please, just fuck me.”
Her words had his cock straining to comply, to give them both what they wanted. “Soon, darlin’. Right now, I need to taste you.” He pushed the skirt of her dress up to her waist, his mouth going dry at the sight of her tiny lace panties. Bending his head, he ran his nose along the seam of her, inhaling deeply. The sound of a phone ringing jarred them, shattering their spell. “Fuck,” Brady swore as he dug in his pocket for his cell.
“James.” He snapped into the phone. His face paled as he listened. Standing up, he began hastily straightening his clothes. “I’ll be right there.” With a heavy sigh, he dropped back down to the couch, running a hand over his face.
Concerned, Gwyn sat up and tugged her dress back down. Hesitantly, she touched his shoulder. “Brady? What is it?”
He gripped her hand once before letting it go and climbing to his feet. “I’ve got to go, it’s about a case.” His eyes went flat, his voice cool. The transformation from man to Sheriff was complete. She tried not to let her disappointment show. Bending down, he took h
er face in his hands kissing her hard.
“Gwyn, you are so fucking delectable. I had a great time tonight, and I’m sorrier than you know that I have to cut this short. I’ll make it up to you, sugar.” He finished his words with another kiss, this time slipping his tongue into her mouth. Claiming. Dominating.
“Lock the door tight behind me and don’t go anywhere tonight,” he ordered when he broke off their kiss. “I’ll be in touch in the morning.”
She nodded, too dazed from his kisses to speak. Walking to the door, he looked back. Tousled, flushed and aroused, she was a sight and it took everything in him to leave her side. Fuck. He slammed the door behind him and waited on the small landing until he heard the lock click into place. Hurrying down the stairs, he jumped in his cruiser and took off down the street towards the station.
Another body. This fucker was escalating fast. Flipping on his lights, Brady steeled himself for what he was about to see. Sam had said he would meet him at the station and they’d ride out to the crime scene together. Percy and Rims were already there, locking it down. Pulling into the station, he honked once, a signal to Sam to get his ass out there. A few seconds later, he jogged out the door, hopping in the car.
“Where’s the scene?” Brady wasted no time on pleasantries, he wanted to get there as quick as possible.
“It’s the old Lakeport warehouse off 5th Street,” Sam replied, looking over at him. “Dude. Why do you…smell nice?” Sam looked appalled. “Were you on a date or some shit?”
“Shut the fuck up. Yeah, I was on a date okay. Now, tell me what we know.” Brady ordered, annoyed. Sam shook his head, but complied.
“Couple of kids called it in. Apparently the body was disposed of next to the dumpster on the west side of the building.” Lakeport had been an abandoned warehouse for a few years; it had become the stomping ground for teenage kids looking for a place to blow off some steam. Pulling in beside Percy and Rim’s cruiser, Brady cut the lights and grabbed his flashlight from the glove box.
Brady got out of the car, drawing his weapon. Shining his light around the area, he headed towards the far side of the building, knowing Sam wouldn’t be far behind. The dark of the night put them at a disadvantage, and all his senses were on high alert. Gesturing for Sam to move ahead of him, he stooped to examine the ground. Shining his light along the bottom edge of the brick wall, he focused on what had caught his eye. A shoe print. Pressing the button on his radio, he waited for Rims to answer. “Rims, haul ass over here and bring me a kit.”
It looked like they might have finally found a solid clue in this case, unfortunately it had come too late. Hearing footsteps, he whipped the flashlight around, shining the light into the approaching person’s face.
“Aw, come on boss, it’s me,” Rims complained, holding his hands in front of his eyes.
“Sorry.” Brady took the kit from Rims and pulled out a pair of gloves. “Look, stay here and process this shoe print. I need to go and see what we’ve got.” From Rims’ grim expression, he knew he wasn’t going to like what he found around the corner. A heavy weight of sadness fell over him as he approached the scene where Percy and Sam were waiting for him.
He saw her hair first. Chestnut hair spread out in the dirt. Her clothes were torn and tattered, barely hanging on her body by threads. Bruises, dried blood and stab wounds covered ninety percent of her body, the trauma evident everywhere he looked. Her left ankle was bent at an odd angle and he knew it was broken. Stepping closer, noticed two missing fingernails on her right hand. Gritting his teeth, he asked, “What do we know?”
Percy cleared his throat, “Call came in at 21:37, two teenagers discovered the body.” He nodded his head towards a bench a few feet away where a couple of boys were sitting. “Rims and I arrived on scene at 21:47, and verified their call wasn’t a hoax. Called it into the station right away, put those two on ice.” Percy finished his verbal report.
Crouching down, Brady slowly rolled the body over with his gloved hand. Just as he suspected, her face was untouched. The angry gaping hole in her neck was likely the cause of death, but the Medical Examiner would need to verify that.
“Jesus.” Sam muttered behind him. “What do you think, boss? Can’t be more than 21, 22?” Sam voiced what they were all thinking. She was too young to have died a death like this. Fury built in him as he stared down at her. He was going to catch this fucker and make him pay.
“Percy, go see how Rims is doing—looks like we might have a shoe imprint around there. Sam, call the rest of the guys and get them down here now. I want a perimeter set up while we wait for the Coroner. No screw-ups, boys.” He stood, his eyes solemn. “She’s counting on us. Let’s get to work, it’s gonna be a long night.”
CHAPTER NINE
The diner was quickly becoming Gwyn’s favorite place. While she wasn’t proving to be a stellar waitress, there really was more to it then carrying plates and pouring drinks, she was putting everything she had into it. Joan had been so kind to her, the older woman was a true godsend. The morning rush was their busiest time, with dinner coming in at a close second.
It had been a few days since Brady had rushed out of her apartment, and with the exception of one phone call the next morning to apologize, she hadn’t heard from him. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed, but the time on her own had given her the chance to get better settled in.
Hailey had been a permanent fixture both at the diner and in her apartment. It was though she had decided that the two of them were going to be friends, and that was the end of it. Her positive energy was infectious¸ and Gwyn had to admit, having a female friend was something she had always craved.
Balancing two plates piled high with the morning’s daily special, she made her way over to Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett’s table, managing to deliver their meals with only a few home fries spilling onto the floor.
“Here you are, two hearty breakfasts.” She announced, setting their plates down. “Mrs. Bartlett, would you like your coffee topped off?” The elderly couple were frequent patrons of Earl’s, and Gwyn had come to adore them. Mr. Bartlett was a beast of a man, well over 6” tall and still as muscular as he must have been in his younger years. His shock of gray hair consistently stuck up at odd angles, giving him the permanent bed head look. He was intimidating at first, but after observing the tender way he cared for his petite wife, Gwyn knew she had nothing to fear from him.
Mrs. Bartlett looked up at her and smiled. “Yes, Sunny. Juice.” She answered and patiently passed Gwyn her coffee cup. Mrs. Bartlett had started calling her Sunny the first day she met her, and Gwyn didn’t have the heart to correct her, she rather liked the nickname. Looking to Mr. Bartlett for direction, he nodded at her to fill the cup with coffee. Gwyn had heard the stories about Mrs. Bartlett’s Alzheimer’s and knew to play along.
“Coming right up,” she told them and headed back to the counter. Spotting Joan eyeing her, she knew that the home fry spill over hadn’t gone unnoticed. She would be hearing about that later. The woman had an eye like a hawk.
After delivering Mrs. Bartlett’s juice and checking on a few other customers, she snuck back behind the counter for a quick sip of glorious coffee.
“Excuse me. I feel fairly confident that the help shouldn’t be sampling the product during working hours.” A smooth feminine voice addressed her from behind. Spinning, she came face to face with a stunningly beautiful woman. One who was nailing her with a gaze filled with utter disdain. Her long, dark wavy hair was pulled artfully over one shoulder and her bright green eyes were zeroed in on her. Standing in front of the impeccably dressed, gorgeous other woman, Gwyn felt like the lowly servant. Jesus, who is she?
“Ma’am. I’m sorry if you have the wrong idea, however I am not “sampling the product.” I’m merely taking a small break to hydrate myself with some much needed caffeine,” she explained trying for humor. Her smile fell when she realized her attempt got her nowhere with the other woman. Someone woke up on the wrong sid
e of the bed.
Switching to professionalism, she wiped her hands on her apron and stepped forward, snagging a menu from the shelf. “May I help you find a seat? Get you some coffee? Obviously, I can attest to its deliciousness,” she again tried to joke. The woman blinked and moved forward to take a seat on one of the stools.
“I’ll sit here, thank you. And yes, you may bring me a cup of coffee. Black.” Gwyn nodded and scurried away, desperate to put some distance between them and regroup. Everyone she had met so far in this town had been so warm, welcoming. The cold disapproval coming from this woman unnerved her. She was right, she shouldn’t have been drinking her coffee at the front, she should have known better. In the blink of an eye, she was slipping back into the self-doubt she had felt all those years with Lawrence. Maybe he had been right all along.
With an unhappy sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to stop it. She knew better now, she wasn’t worthless and while maybe she had been caught doing something a little outside of the rules, it wasn’t the end of the world. Mistakes happen. She would not let this woman, whomever she was, ruin the progress she had made. Pouring a fresh cup of coffee, she steeled herself and headed back.
And was met with a smile. The woman was smiling warmly at her. Confused, she approached with caution. “Here you are ma’am, one black coffee.” She set the cup down. The woman waved her hand in the air. “Ugh, don’t call me ma’am, you’re making me feel old. My name is Mila Stevenson,” she held out her hand. “You must be new here, dear, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”
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