The Sheriff

by Angi Morgan

  Andrea curved her hips into his, leaning back as she’d done on the far side of the barn. Her smile was sultry, sexy. “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about the next three hours?”

  With her looking like that at him, they weren’t going to make it to the bedroom.

  * * *

  PETE KISSED HER hard and wrapped his arms around her waist as she wrapped hers around his neck. He moved toward the door, almost dragging her feet across the porch as he lifted her body next to his. Andrea didn’t care. She was in just as big a hurry. Give the man too much time to think and he might change his mind.

  Their limbs tangled as they helped each other take off their shirts. Hers pulled straight over her head, while she could only get his unbuttoned. Still kissing and touching, they dashed down the hall to the bedrooms.

  “Mine,” she said, bouncing against the closed door and struggling to turn the knob.

  Pete didn’t object. He skimmed her black bra—thank goodness she’d worn the sexy one—then traced her collarbone, moving higher until he cupped her neck with one hand and opened the door with the other. They backed into her bedroom, lips frantically finding each other again.

  The belt holding his holster was unlatched. Andrea shoved his uniform over his shoulders and tugged his undershirt loose. Her hands skimmed his chest, hot flesh against her palms.

  She returned his hard, deepening kisses, breaking long enough to stretch the white cotton over his head and let it fall to the floor. His hands slid down her back and seconds later her bra fell. Pete took a step back, his eyes smoldering as they saw her for the first time. She paused, letting him, not feeling vulnerable or self-conscious.

  Andrea couldn’t pretend to be a shy girl. She wasn’t. Neither could she act coy and tiptoe around what she wanted. She’d wanted Pete Morrison since noticing his dimples back in the hospital. And what girl wouldn’t want to make out with the man responsible for saving her life, not just once but twice?

  “This has to be the best bad decision I’ve ever made.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She reached for the button on his fly and couldn’t miss his physical reaction to her body as she unzipped his pants. “Then why are we slowing down?”

  “Some things are worth savoring.”

  The smolder in his eyes turned to pure flame, spreading the heat to his entire body. He held her, letting her arch her back over his arm as he kissed and nipped a hot trail to her breast. By the time he reached the second, he laid her on the bed, taking his time to explore.

  Pete stood between her legs, which were still encased in the heavy denim. His strong hands glided slowly down her thighs. If she hadn’t been going crazy with anticipation, she might have screamed for him to hurry. But the anticipation was exquisite as he undressed her, giving a final tug to the tight jeans.

  “You are more than beautiful. I could stare at you like this all day.”

  “You better not. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose, you know.” She winked suggestively and scooted farther onto the bed, pointed at his pants and propped her head up for a more comfortable look. “Strip, mister.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Without much effort, Pete divested himself of all clothing and stood at the side of the bed a second before he looked uncomfortable. But that was only for a second. He got onto the bed, leaning on his side, and worked magic with his hands again.

  Feather-soft strokes up and down her breastbone sent tingles all over her body. He drew concentric circles until her nipples drew tight, making her shiver multiple times. The strokes became longer, including her hips and thighs. Then tiny circles at the back of her knees.

  “You’ve got a gentle touch,” she gasped a little before he created a trail up her body with his lips. Then silenced her again with decadent kissing.

  Andrea eagerly explored Pete’s body, too. His sinewy muscles, long powerful thighs, lean hips and sheer strength left her breathless. When he reached between their bodies, she grabbed his shoulders, unable to keep her nails from lightly scraping into his skin. Moments later, her body hummed in fleeting perfection as she cried out.

  Pete rolled to his side next to her, kissing her along her shoulder up to her neck, following the line of her jaw back to her lips. There wasn’t an inch of relaxed parts on the man as she reached out and explored more.

  It took a slight nudge to reverse their positions. Seconds later, Pete was on his back. She rose to her knees, massaging his chest, admiring the muscles extending to his hips. She mimicked his technique of touch. She loved the fine dusting of manly hair on his legs, drew circles behind his knees, where he jerked away and laughed.

  As much as she loved those dimples, another touch made him suck in his breath and tighten his abs. She shimmied up his body, her breasts sensitive as they flattened against his chest.

  “I need my...my pants,” he said, gulping air.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, mister. You aren’t getting away now.”

  “Not...leaving.” He smiled, pushing gently at her shoulders, then cupping her breasts, making her join him on a long sigh. Then he whispered, “Condom.”

  He groaned when she sat up, connecting them and then again when she left to retrieve his slacks. She tossed his wallet to him, repositioning herself across his thighs, hand extended for the foil packet. Once the condom was on, she was no longer in control. His smile was replaced with a look of longing. His gentle, slow touch was replaced with a frenzy she could barely control. He flipped her to her back and filled her.

  Their joining was more than she’d thought it could be. They settled into a rhythm that belonged only to them. It couldn’t be duplicated with anyone else.

  “Meant to be” kept repeating in her head. No words were needed and none were said as their lips opened for each other just like their bodies. The perfection she’d experienced at his touch shortly before returned in extended stellar abundance. Pete joined her, tossing back his head as his body went supernova.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Think you could tell me about your list of reasons now?” Andrea asked, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. Her body was only half covered with the sheet, so he could still admire her flawless skin and curves.

  “I’d rather make love to you again before I go remembering why I shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t get all hot and bothered because you’re my protection detail.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. What am I supposed to write in the report?”

  “You can say I spent a pleasant morning in my room. You don’t really write everything down for my father, do you?”

  He’d pass answering that question honestly because the answer had been yes until an hour ago. “So now you know the real reason why I’ve tried to talk us out of this.”

  She climbed on top of him, close enough to kiss, her breasts gently grazing his chest. “I really want to know, Pete. I meant what I said about staying in touch when I leave.” She paused, her head cocking to the side with realization. “I thought you were kidding earlier about long-distance relationships. But you really don’t want that.”

  He gently held her in place when she tried to roll away.

  “Just hold your horses. Before you start rapid-firing questions off only an assumption. I never said I didn’t want a relationship, close or long-distance.”

  “Then what is it? I can tell that something’s bothering you. Is it my dad?” She turned her head again. “I knew it. The Commander is such a turnoff to potential boyfriends. But good grief, Pete. You’re the sheriff. You can’t possibly think he’ll find out something about you...”

  He couldn’t look into her eyes. She was reading his mind—or doing a dang good job interpreting his expressions. She scooted to his side, pulling the sheet higher and tucking it around her like a toga. He threw his legs over the side of the bed.

  And once again, Andrea surprised him with a comforting hand soothing his back muscles. She didn’t seem indignant or curious. She just ran her fin
gertips lightly up and down, giving him a chance to think of what he should say.

  “I should have just made love to you again.”

  She laughed and pressed her body to his, her arms lightly circling his neck. Her tongue flicked out enticingly against his earlobe.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything else,” she whispered. “I’m very happy to take you up on your offer.”

  He twisted in her arms and dropped them both nose to nose on their sides.

  “This isn’t about you or your father, Andrea.”

  “All right. Since you don’t know me very well, perhaps I should inform you that I’m pretty good keeping a secret. I once kept a secret for my best friend for almost two years. That actually might be because I forgot about it, but it should still—”

  “Shh,” he said just before covering her lips.

  The long kisses kept them both silent. He wanted to tell her. She deserved to know that it had nothing to do with her. The frenzy slowed but not the intensity. Soon he was kissing his way down her body and loving every part of her.

  * * *

  “THAT WAS INSANE,” Andrea said, collapsing next to Pete. “I can barely breathe. How much of our three hours is left?”

  She’d fallen for Pete faster than a shooting star fleeted through the sky. And she was glad. He was a complex man, very intriguing and just plain adorable. Plus, he was a heck of a lover. A seriously wonderful lover. She had to be careful she didn’t meet the same fate as a shooting star and burn up when it hit the atmosphere.

  “Enough for a shower and breakfast.” He was propped on the pillows, the corner of the sheet modestly covering his vulnerable parts.

  “You mean lunch,” she teased.

  “Or dinner if you look at the fact that we both worked all night and neither of us has slept in a while.”

  “Wow, Sheriff. You did all that on no sleep? I can’t wait until you’re functioning at full capacity.” She laughed, but she was also impressed at how this man could be wide awake for just over thirty hours.

  “Shower, food and sleep. In that order.”

  “Sounds like a plan. If I can move, that is. Maybe I’ll just stay here for a couple of days and recover.”

  He pushed off the bed and she admired his backside as he gathered his clothes. “Race you.”

  “You’re on. First one finished has to cook.”

  “I might have a better idea. We wash each other’s backs, finish together and both cook.” He caught her wrist and pulled her to him. His sexy definition of “cook” was pressed between them.

  “I really am hungry,” she said only because she’d noticed their time was running short. Otherwise she would have been all over the possibility of another romp. “Didn’t Joe say they’d be back around one?”

  “You’re right. We’ll save the shower for next time.”

  “I love a good plan of action.” She winked at him as he patted her behind, then swaggered down the hallway.

  He beat her out of the shower only because she made certain her legs were shaved again. Who knew? They might actually get time alone together before heading to work. She slid the understated tracking devices back into her ears and yawned. They needed something upbeat to keep them alert, at least long enough to eat.

  Music. Shoot, hers had been stolen. Well, at least the device had been kept by the men in the desert. Fortunately, all her music was stored electronically and could be accessed via Wi-Fi. She grabbed the university-issued tablet from her bag and followed the aroma of sizzling bacon.

  “Oh, my gosh, that smells delicious.” She got close to Pete, stealing a kiss when he faced her. She didn’t want him to retreat to their relationship status prior to the front porch. So she stood right next to him, hoping the popping grease wouldn’t reach her bare arms.

  “Nothing fancy. I’m too tired for anything other than breakfast.” He pulled her close, then let her back away from the frying pan.

  “I don’t mind. I’m starving.” She suddenly wanted to know more about him. What could he cook? What did he like to eat? There were so many unanswered, frivolous details. The only conversations they’d had were about parents or Sharon or madmen who might still be trying to abduct her. She powered the tablet on and set it on the table. “Hey, what kind of music do you like? Are you a good ol’ country boy? A hard rocker? Oh, please don’t be a closet classical music guy. That might just be a deal breaker.”

  He threw his head back, laughing. She loved getting that reaction from him and watching those dimples. Spatula in hand, he drew her into the circle of his arms and just looked at her. She dropped her head onto his chest, hugging him.

  “You are so lucky you’re the sheriff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, my dad’s probably running an extensive background check on you, verifying that you’re good enough to date his only child.”

  “Are you serious?” He broke their embrace faster than she could wonder what was happening. “He can’t. You’ve got to ask him to stop.”

  “What’s wrong?” She knew something major had changed. The smile had disappeared and was instantly replaced with a look so serious it frightened her.

  “I like you, Andrea. Give your dad a call, will ya?”

  “I like you, too. I know my dad can be a bit overwhelming. This is no big deal. Really. He was probably already running one for the task force.”

  “I should have thought of that. Explain there’s nothing between us, so he’ll call off the background. I just hope it’s not too late.” He scooped the eggs out of the pan and set their plates on the table, treating his command like any other friendly suggestion.

  He was clearly worried something awful would be revealed. But what? He couldn’t be the county sheriff if he’d broken the law. That couldn’t be a possibility. So what or who was he trying to protect?

  “First off, do you really think I have that kind of control over the Commander? And second, I thought there was something between us. Am I wrong?”

  “Go ahead and eat.”

  They both sat, coffee and breakfast growing cold while they sort of just stared at all of it. She didn’t know what to do, almost afraid to say anything that might change his mind about telling her—whatever was horrible enough that he thought it would keep them apart. At least she assumed it would keep them apart. His seriousness seemed to indicate that, but it was hard to hypothesize correctly without any facts.

  Silence was not her thing. She asked questions, got people to spill the beans all the time. Pete seemed to have mastered how to keep his mouth shut. How typical that she’d fallen hard and fast for someone who fit the strong-and-silent stereotype.

  “Other than the professional reasons we shouldn’t be involved, there’s something very basic you should know,” he finally said.

  “Okay.” That hurt. She really hadn’t anticipated he’d say they shouldn’t be involved. She better understood what biting your tongue meant. She literally bit the end of her tongue to keep her silence.

  Neither of them lifted a fork. She was glued to the endless expressions crossing Pete’s face. She might pass out from holding her breath waiting for him to talk.

  “I can’t leave Marfa.”

  “Is that all? I didn’t expect you to. At least not now. If I do get the post outside the country, maybe you can visit. If you want to, that is. I mean, I’m not assuming anything because of what happened this morning.” The words spilled out.

  “I would if I could, but it’s just not possible.”

  “Do you need a passport or are you afraid of flying?” He was so earnest and didn’t seem as if he was going to explain the background comment. A million reasons popped into her head. Reasons she wanted to be true instead of the one thing that kept reverberating in the back of her mind.

  “No and no.” He shook his head and pushed his damp hair away from his face, clearly struggling with the decision to tell her.

  She covered his hand, now on the table. “Whatever it is, you
can trust me.”

  “Pete Morrison is not my real name.”

  “Honey told me about your adoption last week.” She couldn’t wait for his explanation and rushed forward, following the illogic of what he’d revealed. “So what is it? What secret are you protecting? I mean, you live here, everyone knows you. Those pictures back at the sheriff’s office prove you grew up here. Your life looks like an open book.”

  “I’m not explaining this correctly.”

  He shoved back from the table and stared out the window. “God, I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to you at all. I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t have brought it up if you hadn’t warned me about the background check. I need you to call your father before it’s too late, but I can’t tell you why.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You can’t just drop that kind of...of request and not allow a question and answer.” She stayed remarkably calm. She didn’t know how, she just did. Much the same way she’d encouraged him this morning to face his attraction for her. She wanted him to trust her. Becoming all shrewish wouldn’t accomplish that. “I didn’t mean to rush you. I’m overly curious, if you couldn’t tell that from knowing me a few days.”

  Waiting, she forced a bite of the bacon down without choking. Then a sip of cooling coffee.

  “It’s complicated,” he said, dropping his chin to his chest.

  “All the better to talk it through with a person who has an objective mind and can be unbiased.” Be patient.

  “I can’t. I want to. It would be easier, but I can’t.” He walked around the kitchen, agitated.

  Andrea placed her hands in her lap and watched without anxiously following him around the room. Part of the question on her mind was why Pete wanted her to know something he was clearly conflicted about revealing. Then again, why was she so excited that he’d begun to share with her?

  “Whatever your real name, it won’t change anything about our...friendship.” If not a relationship, they could at least be friends.