“No need to break in. I leave the place unlocked. Sometimes, Ordell Busby’s boys come out here to smoke and drink, but they don’t leave the covers like that.”
Nobody who’d actually used the covers for sleeping would have left them like that. It was like a heap of laundry. Which only made Clay suspicious. Of course, he was suspicious, too, that Arlo had called him out here.
“You’re sure Billy Lee hasn’t contacted you?” Clay asked. “And by contact, I mean a phone call, visit, email, smoke signals or any other form of communication.”
Arlo scratched his head, looked away. “I’m sure.”
If there’d been a picture of a liar in the dictionary, it would have been one of Arlo.
“All right,” Clay said, “here’s what I’m going to assume. You’re aiding and abetting a federal fugitive.” Arlo howled out a protest, but Clay just kept talking. “I think you brought me out here so I’d think you were cooperating, but since I suspect you’re not, then this is the last place Billy Lee would be. So, where is he? And if you lie, I’ll know, and I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
Arlo shoved his hands in his pocket, kicked a rock and cursed. “I don’t know where Billy Lee is, but he called me and said not to believe everything I heard about him. Then, he asked if he could stay here. I hated to turn down an old friend so I told him you’d been out here a lot checking the place. That way, I knew he wouldn’t come, and I could stay out of it.”
Clay groaned. “You could have told him to come here and then called me.”
“Didn’t seem a good way to treat a friend even if he’s in trouble with the law.”
Clay considered charging Arlo with something—anything—but he thought of a better way to work this. “When did Billy Lee call you?”
“Late yesterday.”
Apparently, that was the day for all hell breaking loose what with Tate running away, Garrett’s wife getting caught with another man and April’s meltdown. Still, with all that going on, if Arlo had called him, Clay would have had one of the deputies try to intercept Billy Lee.
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Clay advised him in the sternest cop voice he could manage. “If Billy Lee calls back, tell him I’ve already checked out the cabin and that he can come here. Then you get in touch with me immediately.” Clay emphasized the immediately just to make sure Arlo and he were on the same page.
Arlo kicked more rocks. Cursed some more. Then nodded. “All right. If he calls back, I’ll set him up to be arrested.”
Clay gave him a stern look to go with his stern tone. “Don’t you dare tip him off, or I’ll set the feds after you.”
Whether or not that would work, Clay didn’t know, but he was tired and ready to go home after another long day. He got back in his truck and called his contact, FBI Agent Mike Freeman. Mike didn’t answer so Clay left him a voice mail. Maybe, this would be enough for the FBI to get a wiretap on Arlo’s phone, perhaps even constant surveillance of the gas station and cabin, and that in turn might lead to Billy Lee’s arrest.
Sophie and Garrett might finally get some answers about their former CFO.
But Clay couldn’t call or text them to let them know what was going on. If the word leaked, it could spook Billy Lee, and the FBI might never find him. Still, Clay figured he should call Sophie just to wish her happy birthday.
Or he could tell her in person.
That’s because Clay spotted her when he pulled into his driveway. She was sitting on his front porch, all bundled up because it was cold. And she was feeding the feral chickens. From her hand. The chickens weren’t trying to peck her eyes out or anything. In fact, it appeared one of the hens had brought her chicks to feed on whatever Sophie was offering.
It was already dusk, but thanks to the porch light, he had no trouble seeing her smile. It was a tentative one but still a welcome sight. Well, maybe. With the way this week had been going, she might be here to deliver some more bad news.
He stepped from his truck, slowly, and as always around the beasts, Clay didn’t make any sudden moves. Sophie did, though. She got to her feet, and the chickens scattered, waddling their feathery butts toward the back. Clay didn’t care where they were going because when it came to these chickens, he went with the “anywhere but here” approach.
“Are you okay?” Clay asked as he got closer. “They didn’t try to attack you?”
She shook her head. “I guess I’m a chicken whisperer.” She chuckled, dusted her hands, and he smelled something sugary sweet. “I brought you a piece of birthday cake, but I got hungry. The chickens and I shared it.”
“It’s okay. I still have some of my birthday cake in the freezer.” Clay glanced around but didn’t see her car. “How’d you get here?”
“On horseback. I put my mare in your barn. Hope that’s okay.”
“It is.” Clay didn’t get a chance to add anything else because Sophie continued talking.
“Reena came out to the ranch for a riding lesson with one of the hands, and she mentioned that you’d already left work for the day. I saddled up and rode over because I thought you’d be here.”
Since she seemed to be waiting for an explanation about why he hadn’t been there, Clay settled for saying, “I had an errand to run first.”
She nodded, obviously accepting that, which was good because he didn’t want to get into the details of that errand, aka meeting with Arlo.
“Garrett is still gone on a pseudo campout,” she added. “And Mom’s recovering from a hangover so I skipped out of any birthday plans they might have had for me and came here. I wanted to find out how things went with April.”
“She’s not moving. Not happy, either, but she’s staying put for now. She knows that’s what’s best for the boys and her. Brantley, too, since this is his home.”
Sophie blew out a breath of relief. “Good. I felt bad that I’d made her life and yours so crazy.”
Their lives had already been in a crazy state before that kissing session in the car. Sophie had just added a new depth to the craziness.
He put his hand on her shoulder to get her moving to the door and felt the damp chill on her jacket. He unlocked the door so he could get her inside. “How long have you been out here anyway?”
“Not long.”
Like Arlo, Sophie wasn’t very good at fudging the truth, but Clay figured she’d said that so he wouldn’t feel bad about her sitting out in the cold.
“Hey, the place looks great,” she said, sounding as surprised as Clay felt.
“Freddie isn’t finished, but he’s finally made some headway in the right direction.”
Thankfully, this front part of the house looked normal anyway, and with the open floor plan, he could see right into the dining room on one side and the kitchen on the other. No misplaced toilets. No holes in the floor with hole signs.
The moment Clay shut the door, Sophie turned to face him, probably to press him for what had gone on with April. At least Clay thought that was what she wanted.
It wasn’t.
She came up on her tiptoes, put her mouth on his and kissed him.
Her lips were cold and tasted like frosting, which was more appealing than Clay thought it would have been. Of course, this was Sophie so she didn’t especially need the sugar to make this kiss feel like some kind of sexual appetizer. Just being near her had a way of doing that.
Unlike the kisses in her car, this one didn’t go on and on. Much to his body’s disappointment. She eased back, and he saw something in her expression that he hadn’t seen in the dim light on the porch.
“Bad day?” he asked.
The corner of her mouth lifted, but it wasn’t much of a smile. “You asked me that when I was in your office on what was supposed to be my wedding day.”
“You look considerably better
now than you did then, but there’s a glimmer of being shaken up on your face.”
“If it’s just a glimmer, then I’m doing a good job of hiding it.”
Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good. “Is this about the letter from your father?”
She nodded and got that not-much-of-a-smile again. Even the partial smile was short-lived because she stepped away, turned her gaze from him. “He made me CEO of Granger Western. Ironic, huh?”
Clay had expected to hear something, well, bad. This didn’t exactly fall into that category though it was ironic. Her father had given Sophie exactly what she wanted, but Granger Western was a festering pile of crap right now.
He didn’t mention that to her. No need to state the obvious. So, Clay went with the best encouragement he could muster. “You might get the company back, and then you’ll have what you’ve always wanted.”
“It’s possible.”
She didn’t sound very convinced of that, and Clay nearly told her that they might have a lead on Billy Lee. But the problem was that finding the CFO might not do any good. It was likely that the damage had already been done.
“I’m sorry,” Clay told her, and that covered some territory.
Since she was still shivering, he turned up the thermostat a notch and then started a fire. In the fireplace. There was one already flickering in his body from that kiss, but it was best if he kept a little distance between them until he could get his footing.
“Being the CEO is part of my life plan,” she continued. “Was part of it, anyway,” Sophie corrected. “My plan is pretty much shot. By now, I should have been pregnant.”
He looked up from the fireplace and frowned. “That’s not why you’re here, is it?”
She laughed. “No, your sister is doing an ample job carrying on your genetic line. And as for mine, well, Roman’s got that covered.”
“You really have a life plan?” he asked.
Sophie took out her phone and showed it to him. There was indeed a list of goals. Marriage was still on there. The CEO part, too. Apparently, she wasn’t giving up on that just yet.
“I keep a copy of it on my phone and laptop so I can look at it. Sort of a way to keep me on track. At least it was until everything derailed,” she explained. “So, what about you? Do you have a life plan?”
Yeah, he did. To make it through a day where nobody he knew and/or loved died. So far, so good if he didn’t count what’d happen two years ago.
But Clay always counted that.
Killer.
“Other than making sure my sister’s present and future offspring are taken care of, I don’t have a life plan,” he settled for saying.
She stayed quiet a moment, watched him stand after he had the fire going. “You gave up a lot to move here and be with her. Didn’t you? And you did that without even knowing if the chief job would be permanent,” Sophie tacked on after a few more seconds.
It was a simple comment, but Clay thought she might be fishing for a nonsimple answer. “What are you asking?”
Sophie shrugged, avoided eye contact with him. “Mila said there wasn’t much about you on the internet. I mean, about your cases and such. She thought maybe that meant you did undercover work.”
It didn’t surprise him that Mila had Googled or Yahooed him. Probably everyone in town with computer access had—including Sophie. But Mila was right. There wouldn’t have been much to find when it came to his time in Houston PD because most of it was sealed.
“I did some undercover work,” he admitted. It was the truth and more than he usually told anyone.
Again, she was clearly waiting for some details. Details that he wasn’t going to give her. Clay figured it was time to offer her something to drink. Or maybe say that he had something to do and could give her a ride home.
Or...
He didn’t want to let that other option enter his head, but it was already too late. There was one surefire way to put an end to this conversation and not hurt Sophie’s feelings. Of course, it would almost certainly end up hurting in other ways, but he would deal with that when the time came.
Clay hooked his arm around her, pulled her to him and kissed her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IN HINDSIGHT, THIS was exactly why Sophie had come to Clay.
Of course, she’d wanted to know about April, had wanted to tell him about her father’s letter, too. But more than that, she’d just wanted Clay to kiss her and maybe chase away the storm cloud that was hovering over her head. She’d wanted to feel something more than the pity party that had taken hold of her mood.
And she felt something more, all right.
Sophie felt Clay’s mouth on hers, followed by the slam of heat when he deepened the kiss and pulled her hard against him. Oh, yes, this was exactly what she wanted. No way would a shred of pity make it into her head now because the only signal that her brain was sending out was that she was going to get what she’d been wanting for weeks.
She was going to get Clay.
Maybe.
Sophie didn’t have any doubts what they were doing was wrong. She knew it was. However, that didn’t stop her, even though she felt Clay might have some hesitation when he pulled back and looked at her.
Then he cursed. It was pretty bad, but it seemed to be aimed at himself.
“April,” she said. She especially didn’t want to give him an out, but she had to do that since the stakes for him were sky-high. He could lose spending time with his sister and nephews.
Clay repeated some of that profanity, and this time he included his sister’s name in the mix. Brantley’s, too. And he stared at her as if debating what to do. What he didn’t do was take his arm from around her waist. In fact, he seemed to be tightening his grip just a little and pulling her back to him at a snail’s pace.
“This can’t go anywhere,” he said.
She nodded. He was right. But neither of them backed away. They just stood there, staring at each other. Sophie was waiting for him to grow some willpower, and he was no doubt waiting for her to do the same. And she tried. But willpower was no match for the hot cowboy cop right in front of her.
“What do you think our chances are of keeping something like this a secret?” she asked.
“No chance whatsoever.”
She had to nod again. Part of her had wanted him to lie, but that wasn’t in Clay’s nature. However, it was in his nature to ease her just a little closer to him. So close that the next little adjustment would align their bodies in a special way. A way where she would get to feel a lot more inches of him.
At least if someone drove past his house, they wouldn’t see her car so maybe this one time they could get away with it. Unless he got a visitor. Or unless someone guessed because of the satisfied look Sophie would almost certainly be wearing if they followed through on this and did something stupid. But maybe she could conceal that stupid look with makeup.
He leaned in, brushed a kiss on her lips. His muscles were tight now like a man prepping for battle. Or something.
Sophie was hoping for the something.
Clay groaned, and he was so fast that she didn’t see the next kiss coming. He made it deep. And perfect. Especially perfect because he finally took the plunge and smooshed their bodies together. The contact was so spectacular that Sophie thought she might get that something even with all their clothes on.
He trailed some kisses on her neck, then slightly lower, all the while moving her again. Not against him this time, though. He kept that delicious contact and backed her against the wall. He didn’t stop there. He readjusted their positions, giving her a little nudge with his man parts that nearly caused her to go blind.
Good grief, how could he do that with just some pressure and kisses?
Quite easily, she soon realized, because he didn’t just
kiss her blind. Sophie thought she might have indeed landed in the middle of next week. It was okay with her if she stayed for a while.
Clay clearly had a different notion about that. He pulled back again. Cursed again, as well.
“I’m weak and stupid when it comes to you,” he admitted.
That pretty much summed her up whenever she was around him so she nodded. With that confession out of the way, Sophie took hold of the front of his shirt to pull him back to her. But Clay held his ground. Apparently, he hadn’t ventured into the middle of next week along with her.
“And because I’m weak and stupid,” he went on, “I purposely didn’t buy any condoms.”
Because her head was light from all the fire in her body, it took several seconds for that to sink in. It didn’t sink in well, and this time it was Sophie who cursed. Clay’s forehead was bunched up when he slid his gaze down her body.
To her jeans pocket.
Sophie had to shake her head. “No, I didn’t bring one with me. I don’t even own a condom. And I’m not on the pill, either.”
She didn’t add that she was also in midcycle and probably ovulating. Probably as fertile as a rabbit, too. She definitely hadn’t come here to get pregnant, and she was positive that was the last thing Clay wanted.
“We could make a run into town,” she suggested. But Sophie immediately waved that off. “Someone would see us buying condoms and blab to everyone we know.”
That included April, who might have a permanent meltdown this time.
Garrett probably had some in his room, but again, that trip would be risky. Her mother was home and would likely figure out what Sophie was up to after bombarding her with a thousand questions. Besides, by the time she got back to Clay’s, this fire would have probably cooled a bit and they would have both come to their senses.
At the moment, though, her senses weren’t anywhere to be found. Sensations though, yes, they were plentiful. Her body was still zinging. Begging, actually. But despite the begs, her body wasn’t going to get Clay.
Those Texas Nights Page 14
