"Well, crap," Sophie muttered.
"Excuse me?" Forbes' lips twitched.
"Are you smirking? Really?" Sophie placed her hand in the middle of his chest, giving him a shove. "Think again. This time around, I'm the one with her feet planted firmly on the moral high ground."
Sophie knew Forbes could argue the point—and rightfully so. She didn't give him a chance.
"Did you have very much to drink?"
Forbes frowned, obviously confused by the way she abruptly moved on to a completely unrelated subject. But Sophie knew something he didn't. She worked her way up to something, wondering with each word if she would have the guts to follow through. That was the problem with giving into an impulse. When she didn't have a plan, it was a lot easier to fall on her face.
But now that Forbes was home, she wanted to make it clear from the start that things had changed. She wasn't the inexperienced girl he remembered. She was a woman. Strong. Decisive. And in charge.
"No. A couple of beers is all."
"You're in possession of all your faculties?" Sophie asked in a matter-of-fact tone. Calm on the outside. On the inside, every nerve in her body was on high alert.
"I'm dead on my feet, but otherwise? Sure. I'd say my faculties are just fine. What's this all about, Sophie?"
"I'm going to kiss you, and I want to make certain you know exactly what's happening." Sophie stepped closer until her bare toes almost brushed against his.
Forbes swallowed. Sophie gave him plenty of time. He could have gone into his room, shutting the door in her face. Or brushed off her suggestion with a laugh. Instead, his gaze dropped to her mouth—and stayed there. The hall was bright enough for her to notice that the color of his eyes had darkened to blue so intense it took her breath away.
"I only have one question."
"What?"
Rising up on her toes, Sophie leaned close, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
"Yes? Or no?"
In the way of an answer, Forbes shuffled his feet, eliminating the fraction of an inch that separated them. Sophie gasped, surprised at how erotic the simple brush of one set of toes against another could be.
"You like that."
Forbes wasn't asking. He stated a fact—and sounded smug while doing so. If he thought the balance of power shifted his way, he was seriously mistaken.
"I liked it," Sophie nodded, her hands sliding up his arms. "But not as much as you're going to like this."
Holding Forbes' gaze until the last second, Sophie covered his mouth with hers. It wasn't sweet or tentative or searching. She wanted hot and fast. A statement kiss. One he wouldn't likely to forget anytime soon.
Just as Forbes angled his head, when his arms would have pulled her closer, Sophie ended the kiss as quickly as it started. Satisfied by the glazed expression in his eyes, she backed away. Pausing at her bedroom door, she smiled.
"Welcome home, Forbes."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"CAN I GET you a cup of coffee, Chief? You look like you could use a pick me up."
"Thanks, Olly," Forbes nodded. "Black. No sugar."
"Be right back."
Forbes stood, stretching his legs by taking a slow walk around his new office. Pretty standard fare. City-issue furniture consisting of a sofa that had seen better days. The dark-brown leather had faded in spots to more of a light tan, with long cracks in the cushions and along the armrests. The old metal file cabinet in the far corner was dented as if someone had more than once taken out their frustrations on it, leaving one side decidedly concave. However, after a brief inspection, it seemed to be more for decoration than function. The drawers contained exactly three files. One was empty. The other two held a few papers but the cases mentioned were from before Forbes was born.
Officer Olly Wabash was the station's jack of all trades. He was their go-to tech guy, secretary, victim liaison, and shoulder to cry on. The office was his purview. He rarely went out into the field unless it was an emergency, and Cloverdale being Cloverdale, that pretty much amounted to never.
Yesterday when Forbes dropped into the station, Olly had sprung to his feet, rushing to greet the new chief as if jabbed by an electric probe. Nearing forty, below average in height, paunchy but not exactly fat, his light-brown hair thinned quickly. A fact he tried unsuccessfully to disguise with an unfortunate combover.
Pumping Forbes' hand with an overenthusiastic handshake, he almost tripped over his tongue, letting it be known that he was available if Chief Branson had any questions. Day or night.
Having seen the type before—many times—Forbes recognized the man for what he was. Olly Wabash was a brownnoser. Luckily, he seemed to be damned good at his job. Forbes had met the officers under his command—all six of them—and had been briefed on the open cases on the books. Not bad for his first morning.
Ten years ago, the Cloverdale Police Department had finally modernized their system, transferring all their records onto computers. Why Chief Didier kept the old file cabinet was anybody's guess. Sentimental reasons? Or perhaps he hadn't thought about it one way or the other. It had probably occupied that same corner for the better part of the last century.
Furniture wasn't high on Forbes' priority list. Except for the chair behind his desk. With a frown, he rotated his stiff shoulders. The thing had all the back support of a wet noodle. Not to mention the complete lack of a cushion. The ex-chief must have had as ass made of steel.
"Here you go, Chief. Black and hot." Olly sat the cup on the desk. "You have a lunch meeting with the mayor in twenty minutes. Is there anything in particular you want to go over this afternoon?"
"The report on the thefts at the Branson ranch?" Olly nodded. "I want to study it closer. And I have some notes to add. A fire broke out in one of the barns yesterday morning."
Olly frowned. "Nobody reported it. Do we think there was something suspicious about it?"
"That's what I'm going to find out."
With a nod, Olly left him alone.
Forbes had spoken with Mike and Jerry that morning before leaving for the police station to get their take on the thefts. That was when he found out about the fire. And that they believed it had been set on purpose.
"You should talk to the boss," Mike had suggested.
"The boss?" Forbes asked, momentarily confused. Newt was dead. A fact that he hadn't completely come to terms with.
"Sophie," Mike reminded him with a pointed look.
"Right." Forbes hadn't forgotten. However, like the loss of his father, some things around the Branson ranch would take some getting used to.
With a shake of his head, Mike had a look on his face that seemed to say that some air needed clearing between Sophie and Forbes. And it should happen sooner than later.
Forbes agreed. But after last night, he wasn't sure how to begin. The Sophie he had spoken with in the hallway wasn't what he had expected. The gangly, cute kid had turned into a stunning woman. Not beautiful in the classic sense of the word. But she made a man want to take a second look. And then some. The sudden awareness had been surprising. The way she acted had been… Forbes wasn't sure how he felt.
Sophie still took things head on, Forbes was glad to discover. That in his face, 'nothing intimidates me' attitude had always been one of the things he liked about her most. He hadn't meant to step on that stupid board outside her bedroom. She could have ignored it. He probably would have. But instead, she called him out. From her tone, it sounded like she wanted to call him an asshole.
In retrospect, Forbes wished she had. He would have gladly taken Sophie's lip, and given some in return. Her lips on his? That was another matter. Not because he objected to the idea of kissing her. Just the opposite. It was the way she did it. It had been jarring. Like she tried to be someone she wasn't. Forbes knew a certain amount of change was inevitable. But not that much.
Yes, Forbes had played along. Brushing her toes with his was something he wouldn't mind trying a
gain under different circumstances. Hell, he was only human. Given a little encouragement, he might have deepened the kiss. But Sophie didn't give him a chance. She ended it just as quickly as it began, leaving him wondering what the hell had happened.
Picking up the cup of coffee, Forbes moved to the office window.
Who would have guessed that Forbes Branson would grow up to be chief of police? Certainly not him. When he left for Alaska, he dreamed of adventure. Something different and exciting. Whoever coined the phrase be careful what you wish for knew what he was talking about. The past twelve years had been a never-ending, no time to breathe, by the seat of his pants thrill ride.
Forbes laughed. Talk about going from one extreme to the other. Moving aside the curtain, he looked down from his second-story location onto the quiet, peaceful town. This was home. No matter where he traveled or how long he was away, that had never changed. Now, it was his to protect and serve.
The town. The surrounding area. The people who lived here depended on him to keep them safe. That included Sophie. He would find out what was happening. On the ranch. And with her. Whether she liked it or not.
"DO YOU WANT ham and cheddar, or turkey and Gruyere?" Tory asked as she opened the insulated hamper. When Sophie didn't answer, she nodded. "I know. Silly question. You want both. Which is why I picked up three sandwiches at Rodney's instead of two."
The friend's lunch was set up outside the tack room near a row of stalls currently filled to capacity. The horses—unconcerned with what the humans were up to—contentedly munched on their daily snack of vitamin-enhanced oats.
Sophie and Tory made a point of having lunch together at least once a week. The location varied depending on their schedules. Today, they had decided to meet on the Branson ranch.
Tory—always wanting things to be as pretty as possible—spread out a lavender blanket. Kicking off her shoes, she was on her knees unpacking the treats she had purchased before leaving Cloverdale. She was only one of two lawyers in the area. To say her clientele was varied and colorful would be putting it mildly. She loved the work, but getting away for an hour or two was something she looked forward to.
Accepting one of the sandwiches, Sophie took a bite, chewing slowly.
"I kissed Forbes."
This time, Tory remained silent. Tossing her hands in the air—but keeping a firm hold of her lunch—Sophie fell backward onto a pile of loose hay.
"Say something," she demanded. "Anything."
"Other than wow?"
"Wow is a start. Care to elaborate?"
"I'm processing." Tory arranged the skirt of her summer-weight business suit, so her legs were in a ladylike position, curled to the side. "Why did you kiss Forbes? Not that I blame you. I was at the courthouse yesterday, and all I can say is yum. Still, you never said you were pining for him."
"Because I wasn't. Not like that." Sophie sat up. "The kiss wasn't about sex."
"So, you found it was like kissing your brother?" Tory shuddered.
"No." Definitely not. "I didn't plan it."
Sophie explained what had led up to the kiss. The squeaky floorboard. Her state of mind before she had fallen asleep.
"You were pissed."
"I was," Sophie agreed, liking how Tory always boiled things down to the bone.
"Things got out of hand. It was only a kiss, Sophie. Stop worrying. Forbes is a big boy, he'll get over it."
"You don't understand. The kiss didn't result from anger. It was a power play." Sophie swallowed. God, this was hard. "That wasn't me, Tory. It was Joy."
"Come on," Tory scoffed. "That's ridiculous."
"No, it isn't. I spent fifteen years watching how Joy operated. When she wanted something, she got it by using her body. I wanted Forbes to understand that I'm in charge. So, what did I do? I channeled my mother."
"Sophie—"
"That move I made last night was vintage Joy."
The thought of it made Sophie sick. It had taken some time, but maybe her bad blood finally bubbled to the surface.
"Stop. Right now." Tory grabbed Sophie's arm. "I can see the wheels turning in that brain of yours. You are the smartest person I know, but sometimes you overthink things. You. Are Not. Your. Mother. Not close. And if you say it again, I will kick your ass."
"There isn't another explanation, Tory."
"Besides the fact that you were upset? And angry? Give yourself a freaking break, Sophie."
"But—"
"If somebody who works for you makes a mistake, you always give them a second chance. You do your best to help them make it right. You have the same philosophy with your friends. Try giving yourself a break sometimes, Sophie." Tory squeezed Sophie's hand. "The only person who expects you to be perfect is you."
For so long after Joy left, Sophie worried about her place on the ranch. She made herself indispensable. Nobody could argue with a job done perfectly. Even after her place was secure, she continued to hold herself to a higher standard. A way for her to show her gratitude.
Newt had been the closest thing to a father Sophie would ever know. Making him proud had meant the world to her.
"I don't know how I'm going to face him." In true cowardly fashion, that morning Sophie made sure she was gone before Forbes came down for breakfast.
"Forbes is the one who owes you an explanation. Not the other way around. Keep reminding yourself of that, and you'll be fine. Just one piece of advice."
"What's that?"
"Don't kiss him." Tory grinned, popping a grape into her mouth. "At least not right away."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOME THINGS NEVER changed. Thank the Lord.
As Forbes entered the kitchen—the way he had hundreds of times in the past—he stopped to breathe in the familiar scent of Maeve's baking. What she made never mattered as much as the comfort he found in simply knowing she was there.
Closing his eyes, Forbes smiled. Fresh bread. Hopefully out of the oven and ready for him to sample.
"Hello, beautiful." Forbes kissed Maeve's cheek.
"Come here." Maeve wiped her hands on her apron, holding out her arms. She pulled Forbes close, swaying back and forth.
Forbes chuckled, hugging her. "Not that I object, but didn't we do this already?"
"I have a lot of hugging to catch up on," Maeve said, clearing her throat. "Indulge an old woman."
"Old my—backside." Forbes caught himself at the last second, remembering Maeve's dislike for any form of cursing. Considering the company he had kept over the past decade, curbing his language—every time—would be a challenge. "For you, time has stood still."
"I appreciate the thought." Maeve gave him a big squeeze before letting go. Without asking, she took the cooling loaf from the rack and sliced him a thick piece. "How was your first day on the job?"
"Uneventful. Which is fine with me," Forbes said, slathering the bread with butter. He took a bite and sighed with pleasure.
"Good?" Maeve asked.
"Yes, ma'am." Forbes polished it off, wondering if he could talk Maeve out of another piece.
"Dinner is in an hour." When it came to food, Maeve was a master mind reader. "Have an apple if you can't wait."
Wasn't that a blast from the past? When Forbes was growing up, Maeve tried her best to push him toward fruits and vegetables when he wanted a solid diet of candy and potato chips. She hadn't changed, but he had. He grabbed the apple, enjoying the crunch and the tart sweetness.
"Is Sophie around?"
"She always catches up on paperwork before dinner. Forbes." Hesitating, Maeve frowned. "I know that you and Sophie have a lot of things to talk out. But..."
"But what, Maeve?"
"Sit down. Please?"
Puzzled, Forbes did as Maeve asked. Obviously something troubled her.
"Sophie wouldn't thank me for telling you this. However, that young woman doesn't always know what's best." Maeve took a seat next to Forbes. "There is no way for
you to imagine what Sophie went through after Joy took off. Two married women running away together? They created a scandal the likes of which I've never seen—and hope never to see again."
Forbes listened intently. Though he knew what happened, the details were still a mystery. His father had never spoken of it, and Forbes would never have asked.
When the news about Joy and Talia Banks had finally reached him via Aaron, it had come as a shock. To put it mildly. The measures he had taken to protect his father from the truth about Joy had been a big, fat exercise in futility. It turned out that Joy had been intent on blowing up her marriage to Newt whether Forbes was around or not.
"For quite a while after Joy left, Sophie became little more than a ghost. She made her own meals when I wasn't around. Slipped out of the house in the morning and back in at night. To be honest, we were all in such a state of shock, I didn't pay her much attention. I'm not very proud of that fact."
Forbes covered Maeve's hand with his in a silent gesture of support.
"A couple of weeks passed before Sophie finally came to me. The girl was shaking, Forbes. Clearly, she wasn't sleeping. And what little weight she had put on since coming to the ranch had melted off. Skin and bones on top of a bundle of nerves." Maeve's voice cracked with emotion. "The truth about Joy being her mother spilled out in a rush. I half expected her to collapse in a heap, but that isn't Sophie. She has a backbone made of pure steel."
"You didn't blame her." Forbes hadn't meant his tone to be quite so harsh, but he felt like he was experiencing Sophie's distress as it happened, wishing he had been here to help her through it.
"Of course not. You wouldn't believe what Joy put that girl through." Maeve rubbed her arms, shivering at the thought. "It's criminal. And, I suspect Sophie didn't tell me half of it."
"What—?"
Maeve stopped him. "Ask Sophie. She'll tell you if she wants you to know."
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