Making It Right (A Most Likely To Novel Book 3)

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Making It Right (A Most Likely To Novel Book 3) Page 10

by Catherine Bybee


  “Oh?”

  It was his turn to twist the dart in his fingers before pulling back and letting it fly. It slid right along hers, but directly in the center, where a proper dart needed to be this early in the game.

  He reached around, made sure his arm met with her shoulder as he grabbed his beer. “I grew up outside of Spokane, where my dad still owns a small town bar. My mom helps out with the bookkeeping.”

  Jo looked at the board and then him. “I’m guessing you helped your dad. Bouncer?”

  Gill answered her with a nod and a grin as he sucked on his beer.

  She reached for hers and smiled through her eyes as she drank.

  With a sigh, she set the beer back down, reaching across him to do so, and filled her lungs with a fortifying breath. “And here I thought this was going to be easy.”

  She did a little rolling of her head on her neck thing, along with the shaking of her right arm, before tossing her next dart. Instead of aiming for the center, where his dart might very well deflect hers, she set her dart in the triple score of the twenty-point zone.

  “Oh, game on!”

  Pride washed over her face when she turned around.

  His hand stopped shy of slapping her butt when she reached for her beer a second time. He glanced over his shoulder at the party going on with their group. Yeah, ass slapping was going to have to wait for another time.

  Less than ten minutes later, Jo was handing him twenty bucks and ordering another round. “I want another shot.”

  He glanced at their drinks. “You’re not driving, are you?”

  “I know about Uber,” she told him.

  “Does River Bend have Uber?”

  Her eyes were a little glossy, something he didn’t think happened all that often.

  “River Bend has me.”

  He erased their scores and started over.

  “You taxi people around?”

  “There have been a few times I’ve been called, mainly by Josie.”

  He sat down, waited for their drinks before starting the next game.

  “Who is Josie?”

  “She owns R&B’s, the bar I told you about.”

  “Josie calls the sheriff to drive drunks home?” Gill wasn’t sure his father had ever done that. Then again, the small town he grew up in had an actual police department with more than two men stationed there. And his father wasn’t the only one with a bar.

  “Most of them can walk, but yeah . . . sometimes.”

  “That’s a hell of a service you have there, Sheriff.”

  “It’s a pain in the ass,” she admitted.

  The waitress dropped off their round, slapped a bowl of nuts on the table. The increase of salt would increase the drinks. A trick Gill had learned from his father.

  “Then why do you do it?” Gill asked her.

  “It beats the heartache of having to haul them in for drunk driving, or worse. Besides, it isn’t like everyone calls. Policing the town where you grew up has its upside, and its downside. Downside is, those who know me, call.”

  “And the upside?”

  Jo blinked at him a few times, narrowed her eyes. “Free meals.”

  Gill chuckled. He wasn’t about to tell her that once in a while his meals were comped, too. And most of the law enforcement in the room had plenty of free meals from local businesses without driving anyone’s intoxicated uncle home from a bar.

  She stood, grabbed her darts, and nodded toward the board in question. Technically he should take the first turn for the next game, but he agreed, and Jo turned toward the board as she spoke. “The worst part isn’t driving drunks.”

  “Oh?”

  The dart flew, not that he didn’t bother looking where it landed.

  “The hardest part about policing River Bend is trying to erase my youthful transgressions.” She sat back down and twisted her beer in her hand.

  “You were a wild child?” he asked.

  “Quintessential cop’s daughter. Defiant, skipped school, got caught drinking early on.”

  The way she looked beyond him said she was remembering one of those teenage days. “Sounds like a lot of people I knew growing up.”

  She sipped her beer, pointed at him when she was finished. “But your dad ran a bar. My dad ran a town.”

  “I guess it was expected that I drank, and mandated that you stay sober.”

  “I hated it.” The words sounded like a confession.

  He leaned forward on his elbows, the dart game forgotten. “Then how did you end up taking over your father’s world?”

  If Gill wasn’t watching her so closely, he would have missed the wave of brief pain that washed over her. “He died before I could redeem myself. Before I grew up enough to know I’d acted like an idiot. Going to the academy, talking the right people into putting me on the ballot to become sheriff even though I was too young and too green . . . it’s what my dad would have wanted me to do.”

  Probably. But was it what she wanted to do?

  He was about to ask when someone tapped his shoulder.

  He twisted to see Shauna smiling. “You kids having fun?”

  “Relieving Jo’s wallet of her spending money,” he said.

  “I’m going to take a few of these monkeys back to their hotel.”

  Gill saw Jo glance at her watch, start to stand. “I should probably get going, too.”

  He tried to think of an excuse for her to stay. “You wouldn’t earn your money back anyway.”

  She sat back down and Gill grinned.

  He found himself doing that a lot around this woman.

  “I don’t have room in my car anyway,” Shauna informed them. “You can give Jo a ride, right, Clausen?”

  The memory of her straddling the back of the bike, the heat of her pressed against his back, moved all the blood in his head south. “Yeah, I have it covered.”

  “Good, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  Gill noticed the women exchange glances. Jo’s held wonder, while Shauna’s was filled with mischief.

  Chapter Eight

  It took Jo a couple of miles to settle on the back of his bike and for her arms to slide around his waist to hold on.

  Gill would have liked to take a long way to get to her hotel, but there weren’t many alternative routes that didn’t shorten the ride.

  It was past midnight, the lot was quiet and lit only by the streetlights that spotted the front of the hotel.

  He cut the engine the second he turned into a small space.

  Jo hesitated before swinging her leg around the back of the bike. She removed the helmet and shook out her hair.

  The pink in her cheeks from the cold night air gave her a childish glow: cute. A word Gill was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate, so he kept it to himself.

  “Thanks for the ride, Clausen.” She handed him his helmet.

  He placed it on one of the handlebars.

  “Anytime.”

  She shuffled her feet once. “And thanks for taking my forty bucks.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t exactly gentlemanly of him, but hey, a bet was a bet. “I did buy your drinks.”

  He liked her smile.

  “Yes, you did.” She glanced up at the hotel behind them.

  He swung a leg around and stayed sitting on the bike, looking up at Jo as silence was broken by the song of crickets.

  “I should go.”

  But she didn’t.

  “Probably.”

  A playful, short laugh accompanied a roll of her eyes.

  “Okay, I’m going . . . I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He let her turn, but didn’t let her take a step.

  “Jo?”

  She glanced up from the ground she was staring at.

  Gill placed a hand on her waist and pulled her between his legs.

  “What are you—”

  He reached for her head with his free hand and pulled her down for a kiss.

  Jo moaned and opened her lips to let him explore.
/>   When he felt her fingers dig into his shoulder and move closer, he thought, there you are.

  He forced himself to stay on his bike, didn’t stop kissing her until she pulled away. The smoky desire that glazed her eyes made him want her even more. But no. He decided before that evening began that he wasn’t going to jump back into any one-night anything with this woman. And after listening to her spill many of her secrets, her hates, and her desires regarding her life, he realized two things. JoAnne Ward didn’t think she was worthy of anything more than a one-night stand, and second, Sheriff Ward had yet to really live.

  “Do you want—”

  He cut off her invitation to her room with a finger to her lips.

  “I want to,” he confessed. “But I’m not going to.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  Gill spread his fingers on her lower back slowly. “You deserve more than a couple hours of my time.”

  “We spent the whole night together.”

  “You need more.”

  It was a tricky thing, turning a woman down who wanted you in her bed.

  “You know what I need now, do you?”

  “I’m a really good listener, Jo. Besides, you have a big day tomorrow.”

  “So you’re letting me sleep alone to save my strength.”

  He shook his head. “No. To save mine.”

  Some of the disappointment disappeared from her eyes.

  “I’m only here for a few more nights.”

  “I know.”

  Her chest lifted and fell slowly before she stepped out of his embrace.

  Gill grabbed the helmet he’d let her wear and pushed it over his head. “Good night, JoAnne.”

  “It’s Jo.”

  He winked and turned over the bike.

  “Isn’t it like midnight there?”

  “He kissed me and then left, Zoe. What man does that?” Jo spoke into her cell phone as she moved around the hotel room, toeing off her shoes.

  “Well, hello, Jo . . . how was your day?” Zoe laughed.

  Jo paused. “Hi, Zoe. Yes, it’s after midnight. Now answer my question.”

  “About kissing and leaving?”

  “I offered myself. And it isn’t like he hasn’t been there, so why would he say no?”

  “I love you, Jo . . . but you’re going to have to back up a little. We haven’t talked since you got to DC, so start at the beginning.”

  Jo sighed and moved into the bathroom. “I met this guy in DC. My kind of guy.”

  “Let me guess: big, bulky, tats, and available.”

  The mirror showed evidence of Gill’s kiss. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed.

  “Right. All that. Supersexy. It was . . .” She paused. “Epic.”

  “I’m still listening.”

  Jo shook off the memory of his naked ass. “We hooked up. I left before he woke. I’m not coming to the East Coast again anytime soon. No need to stay around for pillow talk in the morning, right?”

  “Right.” Zoe’s voice softened.

  “Then I arrive in Virginia, and guess who happens to be Agent Burton’s partner?”

  “No!”

  “Yes.”

  “How does that happen?”

  “I don’t know. In the movies, mostly. Come to find out my Rocco is actually Agent Clausen.”

  “Rocco?” Zoe asked, laughing.

  “Fake name. I used one, too.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Jo ran the water in the sink, dipped a washcloth in when it was hot. “For the last two days we’ve said next to nothing to each other. We whispered about what had happened, but neither of us brought it up again.”

  “Until tonight?”

  “We didn’t talk about it. We stayed late at the bar, everyone else had left. He gave me a ride back to my hotel . . .” She wiped her face, moved the phone to the other ear to get the opposite side. “I wasn’t going to offer anything, then he kissed me.”

  Zoe ahhed into the phone.

  “Stop it. It wasn’t like that.”

  “Oh, what was it like?”

  Jo stopped washing her face, thought of how soft his touch was tonight instead of the urgency they’d both put into everything while in DC.

  “Different,” she confessed.

  “Good different?”

  “Yeah,” Jo said with a sigh.

  The image of him driving away pulled her back. “Then he left. Said he needed his energy for tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Jo . . . that’s fabulous.”

  “How is that fabulous? I don’t have many nights away from River Bend.” She tossed the used washcloth on the counter and picked up her toothbrush, loaded it with toothpaste.

  “Didn’t you say he was Shauna’s partner?”

  With the toothbrush in her mouth, Jo talked around it. “Yeah.”

  “Isn’t Shauna in Eugene?”

  Jo stopped midbrush. “Yeah.”

  “Maybe Agent Rocco isn’t too concerned about your timeline on the East Coast.”

  Jo started brushing again . . . slowly. “His name is Gill.”

  “Whatever.”

  Jo brushed more vigorously, spit out the mess. A quick rinse and she stepped out of the bathroom. “Doesn’t explain why he said no to tonight.”

  “Sure it does.”

  “How?”

  “Because he wants to slow things down. His clock isn’t ticking like yours is.”

  “But when I get home, it’s River Bend twenty-four/seven again.”

  “I don’t think your agent understands that. Or if he does, he realizes you can have a life outside of being our sheriff.”

  Jo sat on the edge of the bed. “Ha!”

  “I like this guy already,” Zoe said.

  Jo frowned. “He’s annoying.”

  “Which is exactly why I like him.”

  “You’re not helping, Zoe.”

  Her friend laughed and laughed.

  Jo’s eyes opened before the sun made its appearance. After turning over a few times, pounding her pillow into the mattress a dozen times, she sighed and gave up.

  Restless for more reasons than she could name, Jo did what she always did. She put her running shoes on and left the hotel on foot.

  Her legs warmed into her stride on the second mile and her head finally started to focus. She tried to think about the training courses she’d taken so far, the things she had learned and wanted to take with her when she left Virginia.

  Gill’s image swam in her head.

  She pushed him away. He’d kept her up most of the night by not staying; she didn’t want him plaguing her morning run. Some of the day’s lesson plan was about investigations, one of the things she wanted to soak in most. Jo thought of what she already knew. Most of what she’d been taught was on how to draw confessions out of a suspect. Interviewing skills with known criminals and not so known criminals . . . stuff that she didn’t have a lot of experience with since River Bend was a rather crime-free zone. It was the art of observing, and seeing what others didn’t, that she needed to use. That’s what she told herself as she rounded on mile three.

  Most murders are performed by someone the victim knows.

  She thought of her father and his case. There was no one, not one red flag. Even the town misfits and drunks stayed sober for his funeral.

  There are no coincidences.

  Whenever something felt too easy, or just “fell into place,” it was time to cry foul.

  Like the accidental part of her father’s death.

  Too easy. Jo didn’t buy it.

  Jo turned the corner back to her hotel with her muscles and mind loose and ready for the day.

  She jogged up the two flights of stairs and pulled her plastic key from her exercise bra as she walked down the hall.

  When she looked up, she hesitated. And then she smiled. “What are you doing here?”

  Gill lifted his hands, one held a bag, the other something that smelled suspiciously like coffee. “I’ve yet to me
et a cop who didn’t like coffee and donuts.”

  Her stomach grumbled, and her heart thumped an extra beat . . . almost like it was telling her to notice something.

  She swiped the key and opened the door. Then she hesitated in the doorway.

  “Since you took my money last night, I guess it’s the least you could do.”

  He smiled and followed her inside.

  What is he doing here? Turned me down last night just to jump in this morning?

  She sipped the coffee before looking inside the bag.

  Heaven . . . donuts were sugary gifts from above. She bit into a chocolate glazed and leaned against the dresser.

  “Running and donuts?” Gill asked.

  “I run to clear my head,” she told him, taking another bite.

  He smelled fresh, unlike her, and his clothes were professional but not stuffy. All the material on his body hid the ink underneath. It felt like a secret, one she knew but others didn’t. The thought made her smile.

  He took the bag from her and grabbed one of the remaining pastries inside. “That,” he waved a maple bar in her direction, “is a wicked smile.”

  Jo stopped chewing, moved close enough to smell his aftershave. She leaned forward, took a bite out of the donut he was about to put in his mouth, and turned to walk into the bathroom.

  She stopped at the door.

  There are no coincidences.

  Zoe’s question bounced in her head.

  “What were you doing at Marly’s the night we met?”

  “Drinking, hanging out?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You go there a lot?”

  “When I’m in DC, why?”

  “What about Shauna, she go there with you?”

  He shook his head. “Too seedy for her. I’ve dragged her there a few times, but it’s not her style.”

  “Hmmm.” Jo popped the rest of her donut in her mouth and turned her back on Gill.

  She wasn’t going to tell him to leave, wasn’t going to ask him to stay.

  Jo turned on the water in the shower, peeled off her clothes, and stepped inside.

  The small space instantly started to steam.

  Gill’s massive frame shadowed the doorway through the mirror.

  Jo forced herself not to look as she squeezed shampoo into her palm before scrubbing her hair.

  “You’re killing me, JoAnne.”

 

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