by Em Petrova
She didn’t know if she should bellow or cry. Both seemed feasible options at the moment. She did neither. Instead, she walked into the massage room to find the candle holders all smashed and that someone had taken a knife to the vinyl covering her massage table. All her CDs were broken and lay on the floor as if someone had stirred them with their boot heel.
Judd was at her back—she knew by the solid strength of him, muscles she knew by heart after touching them. Funny how every time she came into this small room, she thought of him now. Almost like it was their special spot.
She was stupid for letting herself crush on the sheriff, and definitely stupid for coming to Bracken.
“That’s it—I’m packing my things and leaving for Phoenix.”
She whirled to the door, but Judd didn’t budge. He settled his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry I insinuated you had done this for insurance money, Cecily.”
“Too late now. The words are out and can’t be taken back. Now please move so I can get packing!”
He didn’t release her.
She’d aim a kick at his shin, but her thin flats were useless against his big legs. She might as well be a fly kicking an ox. “Let go of me please, Sir.” She tried for a haughty tone but failed. Something in his expression made her feel lightheaded.
He flexed his fingers and drew her nearer. Her cheek landed against the hard pillow of his chest, his soft flannel shirt making her tears break free all over again.
“I don’t know what to do. How do I find who’s doing this to me?” she cried against him.
“That’s my job, Cecily. I’m sorry I haven’t found the culprit yet, but rest assured that I will be pounding the streets of Bracken and far beyond until I find the person and have him behind bars.”
“Exactly how are you going to do that? Start looking in people’s pockets for my five-hundred dollars?”
Troyer appeared behind Judd, and she peeled herself away from the sheriff. “I’ll start dusting for prints, boss.”
He nodded and pivoted to look at his deputy. Both of them had hugged her. Odd, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to become some weak woman who needed comforting hugs, but these men must see her that way.
She stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders. She had a mess on her hands, no cash on hand to open for business, and she was still wearing her Winnie the Pooh pajama pants. Only one of these things was in her control.
“I’m going upstairs and getting dressed. Then I’m calling the landlord and making a trip to the bank.”
Judd and Troyer both dropped their gazes to her PJ bottoms. Heat climbed her cheeks, burning off the residue of tears at least. She strode past the men and climbed the stairs to find the bucket was already half full of water. But her life was half empty.
* * * * *
If Judd walked in to find Cecily in Troyer’s arms one more time, his deputy would find himself with a few less teeth. After searching the Drift Away Massage and Day Spa from ceiling to floorboards, he and Troyer had a hell of a lot of female prints and a bunch of hairs. None of it was evidence, and he wasn’t sure how he was finding out who was responsible.
Often people started talking after a crime took place, and rumors were at least breadcrumbs to follow. But after the last break-in, not much buzz had been created, probably since Cecily was new to town and didn’t have friends.
After only a week of business, had anything changed? If her personality was anything to go on, then yes. She’d gotten him talking, and well, he thought of her as a good acquaintance in a weird way considering he wanted to shove his tongue down her throat.
He couldn’t shake the feel of her soft hips pasted to his while she’d cried on his shirt. It had taken a while for the wetness to dry, but he didn’t mind it one bit.
Stop, Roshannon.
“I think that’s it,” Troyer said, reaching for the broken door.
“Looks like it. Take the evidence back to the office and we’ll analyze it there. I’ll be by shortly. I need to make sure this place is secure before I leave.”
“Not sure that door can be fixed. It’s splintered.” Troyer touched the wood near the top around the hinge. “Whoever ripped this off was either big enough to do it easily or they were in a fury.”
“Could be either.” Judd had been thinking along the same lines, though. “Go on. And why don’t you stop by Drake’s and see if he has some doors that would fit this opening?”
“Likely won’t match the old structure. This door’s at least sixty years old. The structure’s built to last, but the door sure wasn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter as long as it closes and locks. Call me with whatever you find out, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Troyer left, and Judd was alone with Cecily.
She was kneeling before the bookcase, scraping all the gooey stuff into a bucket. Her hair was tied back, not hiding her drawn appearance or how pale she was.
“I’ve got some wood behind my place. I can board up your door for you.”
She looked up. “What’s the point. Someone’s just going to rip it off again. Besides, there’s nothing left here to ruin.”
The hopelessness in her voice cut him. He walked over and crouched next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let me do this for you. It’s not much.”
Her eyelids flickered as if she was holding back a fresh round of tears. She nodded.
“You gonna be okay for an hour or so while I fetch the wood?”
“Sure.” The dead tone of her voice worried him even more.
He squeezed her shoulder and stood. All the way to his place he thought of her sleeping upstairs while someone broke in. What could have happened to her if they’d breached that door. And how he was going to stop this from happening again.
First, he had to do some asking around. Listening to people talk to each other. Criminals liked to brag about their conquests, and the town would be chattering now that the day spa had been robbed twice.
Not only robbed but property was damaged.
Back in the days before Cassie, he’d have an egg of money ready to go into another investment, but she’d taken that from him. Now he didn’t have extra to put into Cecily’s place. The spa needed a high-tech security system and—
Wait—was he actually thinking of taking care of her? Because investing in a day spa wasn’t him at all.
Fact was, she tore at his heartstrings and he couldn’t deny wanting to protect her. Seemed Troyer felt the same. She had a way of burrowing into the hearts of men.
Which could mean she had a very angry, vindictive ex somewhere who was destroying her future.
Judd loaded the wood scraps into the back of his truck and drove straight to the office. He had a lead, and it started with looking into Cecily’s past.
He needed to follow her trail and see what bad pennies he overturned.
* * * * *
An hour later Judd dropped his head into his hands, breathing hard at what he’d just read on his computer screen.
What the fuck? This had to be a joke. She’d given no indication—
His phone buzzed and Birdie came on the speaker. “Your brother’s on line one.”
Judd glared at the phone. “Tell him to fuck off.”
A giggle. “I put it a bit more politely, but I told him you were involved in an important case. He says he can’t wait and he’ll call nonstop until you pick up.”
“Fine,” Judd growled and snapped up the phone. He smashed it to his ear. “What’s your issue, Aiden?”
“Calling you’s like talking to a bear and expecting it to be civil. What’s your problem now?”
“Besides the fact everyone blindsided me with Cassie crap at Eagle Crest?”
“Well, you put them in their places before walking out, so what else is up your ass?”
He glared at the screen again. Small black words, just names… They shouldn’t make him want to take his semiautomatic to the shooting range and mow down every targ
et out there, but they did.
“She’s fucking married,” he muttered.
“What? Who’s married?” Aiden had to have the hearing of a fucking hawk, didn’t he?
Judd pinched the bridge of his nose. “This woman who had her day spa broken into.”
“Bracken has a day spa now? I’ll have to get a gift certificate for Amaryllis. Our anniversary of our first meeting is coming up.”
Judd groaned.
“Sorry. Okay, so she’s married. That’s a problem why?” A beat of silence and then, “Oh.”
“It’s nothing like you think.”
“Then what’s upsetting about it?”
Judd threw himself against his chair back so hard the springs creaked. “Nothin’. Forget I said anything. I’ll figure it out. So what’s your problem you can’t wait on?”
“I’m operating out of your county this afternoon. Had a guy make off with two bulls from a local ranch and Latchaw got word they’re headed to that auction up your way.”
For a moment, Judd stared at the computer screen, trying to process Aiden’s words. “Why ask now? Never have before. Besides, you know I don’t care what jobs you do here in my county.”
“Okay, so I wanted a little backup.”
Judd’s brows drew together. “For one guy? You and Amaryllis should be able to handle him with your eyes closed.”
“Last we heard, the guy’s got a big record—wanted for murder in Colorado.”
Swiveling to his wall of wanted posters, Judd scanned the faces. “Which one?”
“Killed his mother and father before taking off with all the money.”
Judd zeroed in on one photo. “You got it. He’ll be hot, for sure, packing heavy since he knows he’s being hunted. Where the hell’s Wes?”
“Who knows. Off with the biker gang or some shit.”
Judd gave a baleful laugh. “Momma’s pretty wound up about that, for sure. I’ll bring backup. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Get ready, because Am and I are almost on your doorstep.”
Judd closed out of the computer screen and got to his feet. He hung up with Aiden and stomped out of his office. Birdie looked up at him, the smile dying on her face when she saw his expression.
“What’s going on?”
He looked to his deputy. “Granger, I need your vehicle. Mine’s full of wood and I don’t want to listen to it rattling around while I go out on a call.”
The deputy tossed him his keys, which Judd fielded perfectly.
He’d told Cecily he was coming back. Now he had a good excuse to stay away and not face her about his findings.
She was fucking married and had failed to tell him that. She’d kept crucial information from the case. Why? To protect her spouse?
And when he thought about the way she looked at him, that spark he’d felt on several occasions… Well, she was a con artist, that much was clear.
He pushed out a forceful breath through his nostrils and strode out to Granger’s county-issued vehicle. The inside of the pickup smelled like a damn sub shop with a side of Italian dressing. He wrinkled his nose and rolled down both windows as he backed out. By the time he hit the end of the parking lot, Aiden’s truck was sailing by, his brother waving him into line behind him.
This was exactly what Judd needed right now—a good fucking case and a murderer to throw into the dirt while he handcuffed him and sent him packing off to the state pen. It was a distraction from Cecily, at least.
Chapter Five
Hours passed while Cecily waited for Judd to return. She shouldn’t be so put out that the sheriff hadn’t returned to fix her door. But she felt a little let down.
Of course he had a very busy job, was important in the community, and something more pressing had come up.
So why hadn’t he called her to tell her?
In the end, she’d found some scraps of chipboard in a dumpster from one of the other local businesses and managed to nail them to the broken door. It looked godawful and wouldn’t keep out a moth.
The thought of all she’d lost since coming to Bracken made her stomach burn with acid. Right now, she was helpless. At least she’d made that call to her landlord, who was sending somebody to look at the roof in the morning. Luckily, the rain had slowed to a drizzle and she’d only emptied the bucket twice.
She had a few pieces of cold pizza left—turned out the vegetarian pizza with no cheese from Padre’s was pretty good—and she carried them on a napkin downstairs to her shop again. The lights cast a golden glow to chase away her melancholy. Except it didn’t work. Her mind was filled with shadows of what-ifs and whodunits.
She sank to the floor to eat her pizza, leaning against the leg of the desk.
When Judd walked into her shop, the bell tinkling at his entrance, she paused with the pizza halfway to her lips.
“You look like hell,” he said.
She prickled and drew herself to her feet. “You don’t look like a country picnic either. Where’d you get that cut on your cheek?”
He raised his fingertips to lightly touch the edge of the abrasion. “Caught a boot heel in the face. I’m fine. You look like you’ve been crying all day.”
“Haven’t you ever heard it’s rude to comment on a lady’s appearance? Nobody wants to hear they look like crap with bags under their eyes and a red nose.”
He stepped farther into the room and closed the door. Then he turned to stare at the mess she’d made of her repair.
“I’m no handywoman, okay? I’ve only ever nailed up pictures onto the wall.” Several of the nails had bent over and she’d been unable to pull them out, so she’d hammered them flat.
“You didn’t wait for me.”
She looked down, a tumbling feeling in her stomach at the sound of his disapproving tone. “I didn’t hear from you and I had no idea if you were coming back.”
“I keep my promises, Cecily.”
“How could I know that?”
“I think I know your problem here.”
“What’s that?” She hated the sting inside her at his words. And the warm tingles at being under his gaze was confusing as hell. But she was eager to know his thoughts on the break-ins.
His stare unsettled her. Made her want to look away and run at the same time. Why was he looking at her that way?
“You failed to give me all the information.”
She shook her head in confusion. “What? I told you everything.”
“You didn’t tell me about your husband.”
She froze, unable to even blink after that bomb had been dropped. She gave a chuckle. “Husband? I’m not married.”
He arched a brow, and beneath it, his eyes were cold. She was in the crosshairs of one Sheriff Judd Roshannon, and she didn’t need to be gifted to understand that was a bad place to be.
“I ran your name, Cecily.”
“So? All you’ll find is a parking ticket in my last town after I was stuck in line at the drugstore one day I was buying allergy medicine.”
That tendon in the crease of his jaw flickered. In, out, in, out. Her heart started to pound faster in rhythm to it.
He dug a folded piece of paper from his chest pocket. He flipped it open and read. “Says here you are married to a guy named Cole.”
Her jaw dropped. Now that name was a blast from her past, like a reminder of a teen celebrity she’d crushed on back in the day.
“Cole Braden…” she whispered.
“No. Brady. Cole Brady.”
She eyed Judd. “Are you sure? I thought it was Braden.”
He goggled at her. “How the hell don’t you know the last name of your husband?”
She shook her head at the mention of a husband. This was getting ridiculous. “We aren’t married. There was a hair convention in Vegas about five years back. I’d just gotten out of beauty school and a few of my friends and I went to this huge hair show.”
Judd was as still as stone, a chiseled god with his head cocked, looking at her as if
she was crazier than a shithouse rat.
“I met Cole in the swimming pool and well, it was Vegas. We’d been drinking and things heated up quickly. After a whole day of margaritas and beer, he thought it would be fun to visit one of those wedding chapels. Before I knew it, we were standing before a preacher I’m sure was a drag queen. Or maybe just a really tall woman. I don’t know for sure—I was tipsy.”
Judd made a sound in his throat like nails stuck in a blender.
She sped through the rest of the tale. “So we were married in a Vegas chapel, but it wasn’t real.”
“Was there a marriage license issued?”
“Well, I’m not sure. We had a packet of papers they gave us but I just threw them away when I was packing to go home. And I never heard from Cole Braden again.”
“Brady,” he corrected through clenched jaw. “And yes, you must have been legally married, because it’s in the system that he’s your husband.”
She jerked backward a step. “Can’t be true. The system’s wrong.”
“The system’s never wrong. Are you telling me you had no idea you’re actually married, Cecily?”
“No. I’m not married.”
In one stride, he grabbed her by the elbows and yanked her onto tiptoe. At the same moment, he dipped his head and crushed his lips to hers. A hard stamp of his mouth that stole all the thoughts of being a wife from her mind and replaced it with a dark longing so strong that she swayed.
Judd kept her upright, tugging her closer as he slanted his mouth across hers and speared his tongue between her lips. She gasped at the invasion and tasted pure minty, delicious male. Her eyes slipped shut and she clung to his shirt front, her fist in the fabric barely holding her up. If not for his big palm planted on her ass, she would have fallen over.
Speaking of that big palm…
Shivers of heat ran through her bum, up into her spine and down her thighs too. Her mind blanked to everything but sensations as he slid his tongue across hers for five heated, thought-stealing strokes.
