Close To The Edge (Westen #2)

by Ferrell, Suzanne

  Need slammed into him.

  “Mmm, I think I’d like that,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

  He squeezed her close until her breasts were pressed tight against his chest and her body so molded to his she couldn’t mistake his intent.

  Her hands came up to clutch his hips, keeping her secure against him. “I’m looking for adventure, officer. What do you think?”

  Just when he thought he couldn’t get harder, her words sent desire racing to his groin. For a moment he considered throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom, but despite her whispered show of bravado, that would probably send her flying out the back door.

  And he couldn’t let that happen.

  He turned his head and crushed her lips in a searing kiss, one meant to tell her the urgency of his need. She met him with equal passion, her tongue parrying each thrust of his.

  He needed her. Now.

  In the kitchen? On the counter?

  He grasped her by the butt with both hands and lifted her until she sat on the edge of the counter. Her legs parted and he pressed in between them, amazed how easily this woman aroused him.

  When her hands cupped his face, he pulled her tight against him, arching her back to claim her lips in a deeper kiss. Her body quivered against him, her heart beat pounded against his chest in a chaotic beat that thrilled him to the core. In response, he ground tight against her.

  “More,” she whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss a moment and running her hands down his back to grip his shirt in her fists and pull it up and over his head.

  “Yes,” he murmured, his hands opening the buttons of his shirt she wore and slipping inside to cup her breasts. He lowered his lips to take one taut peak in his mouth. Another soft moan filled the room, and he sucked harder.

  Her fingers fumbled at his pants.

  Suddenly the sound of his phone filled the kitchen.

  “Damn,” he muttered against her breast, which quivered with her panting breaths.

  “Do you have to answer it?” she whispered as it rang a second time.

  Her need so apparent in her voice he couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I am the town sheriff, remember?”

  She growled softly in frustration, her hands loosening their hold on his back. With a chuckle, he nipped at her lips before stepping away from her spread thighs to answer the old wall phone. His gaze stroked her from head to toe as he let his hand rest on the receiver for a third ring.

  Sitting so exposed on his kitchen counter—his shirt open to her waist, the swell of both breasts visible, her shapely legs open with only the shirt tails tucked between, lips swollen from his kisses and dark hair tousled in wild abandon—she shouted sexy and whispered vulnerable at the same time.

  Their gazes locked as he grabbed the phone. “This better be good,” he growled into the receiver even as she began buttoning the shirt.

  “Sheriff, this is Walt Sanders. Sorry to bother you so late.”

  Gage glanced at the clock. Nine fifteen. Not that late, but Walt was near seventy, so probably felt late to him. “No problem, Walt. What’s up?”

  “Well, you know that little lady I rented a room to yesterday?”

  “Ms. Roberts?” The hairs on Gage’s neck stood on end again and he turned to look at her, now primly sitting on his counter with her hands folded in her lap, her head tilted to the side as she listened to his end of the conversation. This vision of her tore at his gut as much as the sexy vixen had moments before. “What about her?”

  “Seems someone broke into that room and tore it all to pieces.”

  Chapter Nine

  They hadn’t left one thing untouched. The closet doors hung by one hinge. Dresser drawers were strewn about the room. The knife-ripped mattresses of both beds lay helter-skelter with their tops gaping open and their internal stuffing scattered about like white nylon snowbanks.

  Standing in the middle of the chaos, Bobby shuddered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Why would someone do this?” She lifted her favorite sweater off the floor. Hopefully the dry cleaners could get the wrinkles and dirt out.

  “Obviously they were looking for something.” Gage said, standing just inside the doorway.

  No kidding. “What were they looking for? Who could do this?”

  “That’s an answer I’d like to know.” He turned to Walt, who stood out in the dark night, peeking in from the side of the door. “Did you see anyone drive in or out today?”

  Walt shook his head. “There were some truckers here last night, but they pulled out not long after you two left this morning. We had a couple stop by last night, but they’ve moved on, too. About two hours ago, the new set of truckers stopped for the night. You know we always get more business once the sun goes down.”

  “You’ve been watching the parking lot all day and night?”

  “Well, now you know me and the missus watch the news and then our shows at seven. But I can’t say as I’ve seen anyone snooping around this room. Least-wise no strangers actin’ suspicious. Gonna set us back a few pennies for new mattresses.” The old man’s shoulders drooped a little more as he took in the room’s devastation. “Good thing I didn’t let my insurance lapse this month.”

  Bobby shook her head. It was so unfair that someone would cause this nice man such trouble. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “Well, it ain’t your fault, miss. I’m thinkin’ it was just some hooligans tryin’ to cause trouble, is all.” He gave her a gentle smile. “I think I can get another room ready if you be wantin’ it.”

  The possibility of spending another night in a motel with such obvious lack of security sent another shudder over Bobby. “Um, that’s very nice of you, Mr. Sanders, perhaps…”

  “No need to go to the effort, Walt,” Gage interrupted her, his attention on the motel owner. “Ms. Roberts will be staying with me.”

  “Well, if you’re sure, Sheriff. I best be calling Martin over at the insurance agency. Bad news always comes at night, don’t it?” The older man just nodded his head and headed toward his office.

  Bobby waited until Mr. Sanders was out of hearing range before she shoved her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Gage. “I am not staying with you.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and arched one brow. “You’re not?”

  “If I stay with you in twenty minutes the entire town will know about it. And you have a reputation to maintain.” Her voice broke a little and she swallowed to keep from giving in to the tears that threatened to overtake her. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Gage. Better to be angry than watery and wimpy.

  “I do?” He asked, taking a step closer.

  “Of course you do. You’re an elected official…”

  “Technically, my Dad was the one elected. I was more or less drafted to finish his term.” He drew closer. “And where exactly were you planning to stay, if not with me?”

  She took a step back only to have her legs slam into the upturned mattress behind her. In an effort to keep from toppling back over it like a scene from a well-scripted I Love Lucy show, she grasped hold of the mattress’ edge with one hand, and Gage’s George Strait T-shirt with the other. Her balance restored, she let go of Gage. “I’ll stay at the Westen Inn.”

  “And put Adele Carlisle in danger? The woman is near eighty.” He’d gone back to arching his brow at her, and he’d pressed his lips into that stubborn line again.

  “What makes you think she’d be in danger?” Really. No one but him and Cleetus knew who she was and why she was here.

  “Look around you, sweetheart.” He spread his arms wide. “Someone believes you have something they want or need. Since you showed up in town, I’ve had one arson fire, one dead body, and now one breaking and entering with willful destruction of property.”

  “You think all this was my fault?” The nerve of the big lug! “I didn’t do any of this.”

  The muscles of his neck worked as he
swallowed, took another deep breath and heaved a huge sigh. “Bobby, I didn’t say you were responsible for what’s been going on. The timing suggests your appearance here is the trigger.”

  “You think whomever’s behind Harley Evans’ death is also responsible for the arson fire and now this mess? And that they may know why I’m here?” Another shiver ran through her.

  “I don’t know. But I do know it’s a lot of coincidence they all occurred since you arrived in town.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “I don’t like this many coincidences. You’ll be safer staying with me until I can figure out what the hell is going on and who’s responsible.”

  The way he held her hand securely in his comforted her. When she looked into his dark-green eyes, she saw both concern and tenderness. Had a man ever looked at her like that? Something deep in her heart flipped.

  She dropped her gaze first and shrugged. “I’d hate to put Mrs. Carlisle in any danger.”

  Gently, he slipped his other hand under her chin and lifted until her gaze met his once more. “Thank you.”

  Fighting the desire to throw herself into the safety and strength of his arms, she bit the inside of her lip. “Okay, so what do we do now? Wait for Frank and the crime scene division people to get here and process this stuff before I pack it up?”

  A deep rumble started in his chest and filled the air with his laughter as he turned to take in the room. “This isn’t like TV, sweetheart. I doubt anything we found in here would tell us who did this.”

  What did he find so funny? “What about fingerprints or DNA?”

  He looped one arm around her shoulder and led her carefully through the maze of mattresses and drawers. “This is a motel. Despite Walt and his wife’s best efforts at housekeeping, I doubt they’ve removed fingerprints from every surface after each person checked out. Then there’s the DNA specimens probably left on a nightly basis on the mattresses.”

  God, men could be so gross. Bobby pulled away from him and smacked him in the chest. “Please. I don’t even want to think that I slept on them.” This time the shudder running down her skin was from the creeps instead of fear.

  “Okay. You pack up your stuff and I’m going to have a look around the outside perimeter.”

  “What for?” She followed him to the doorway. “You just said nothing here would be of use.”

  “Just looking for tire tracks. I won’t be far.” He retrieved a flashlight from his truck cab, and began methodically searching the gravel parking lot from the hotel room back toward the highway.

  For a moment Bobby continued to watch him, listening to the soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots. She shook her head as she started folding her clothes into her suitcase. The man was like a bulldog with a bone sometimes. If she looked in the dictionary for the word intense, she’d find a nice picture of him, grimly set lips and all.

  As she made her way through the chaos of the room, collecting her belongings, she quietly catalogued each item in her head. Three pairs of jeans—the skinny-day ones, the fat-day ones and the pair on her body. Four sweaters or pullovers, all in various stages of wrinkles. Her good black pinstriped suit.

  “Crap.”

  “What?”

  Less startled than all the other times he’d snuck up on her, she turned and held out the evidence. “Just look! Whoever destroyed this room mauled my best silk suit just like a day-old newspaper.”

  “It’s a suit.” He stared at her like she’d climbed out of a flying saucer from the planet Odd-women-who-worry-about-clothes.

  Now that really hacked her off. “This suit cost almost two weeks’ salary!”

  “Let me get this straight,” he said with that patiently placating voice men sometimes used when explaining things to women. “You weren’t pissed off because someone broke into your room, rummaged through your belongings and could have hurt you if you’d been here. That’s okay with you. But because he wrinkled some suit you paid way too much for, now you’re angry?”

  “Yes, I’m angry. I’m angry that someone trashed my belongings. I’m also angry that they trashed this room which will cost Mr. Sanders time and money to fix. If your theory is right, I’m also angry at this person for stealing Harley’s life and setting that fire.” She mopped her eyes and returned to finding all her belongings. “Yes, I’m angry and a little scared. The suit was just the icing on the cake.”

  His arms came around her. “I know you weren’t expecting all this when you came looking for adventure, but I promise to keep you safe.”

  “How? By keeping me under twenty-four-hour surveillance?”

  “If I have to, yes.” He hugged her tighter for a moment then released her. “You just about done now?”

  The odd tightness in his voice took the edge off her anger. She focused on gathering up what she could see. “Just about. I suppose if I forgot anything, Mr. Sanders can let me know.”

  A knock sounded on the door. They turned to see a man in a deputy’s uniform and holding a camouflage-colored baseball cap in his hand, standing halfway inside the room. He looked to be about thirty-five with dark hair and brown eyes. “Man, someone went a little crazy in here.”

  “Wes Strong, meet Bobby Roberts, our newest deputy.”

  “Ma’am.” He nodded and lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile, which didn’t go to his eyes.

  “We’re going to gather up her things, and she’ll be staying with me. But I’d like you to make a few rounds here tonight, just to be sure Walt doesn’t have any more trouble.”

  “Yes, sir. By the way, I checked with Geraldine Taylor over at the bank to see if Harley called in sick.”

  “And?” Gage slipped his arm around Bobby’s waist.

  “Someone called Harley in sick, but Ms. Taylor can’t be sure if it was him or not.”

  “Great. Let me know if you see anything unusual here, or hear anything more about Harley.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wes nodded again, turned and left.

  “He’s a very sad man.” Bobby said.

  “Dad hired Wes before I came home. He’s ex-military and very closemouthed about his past.”

  Once she’d finished packing, paid her bill and was seated in the passenger seat of his truck another idea hit her. “You need to take me back to town.”

  “You already agreed not to stay at the Inn,” he said, glancing at her as he drove. The grip of his right hand on the steering wheel tightened the leather beneath his fingers, which creaked slightly in the cab’s silent darkness.

  The man certainly knew how to hold his temper. Wonder if he learned it from his years working undercover?

  “I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Good.”

  The arrogance was back. Well, she hated to burst his man-bubble, but he wasn’t going to like what she said next.

  “We need to get my car. It’s still parked outside the bank.”

  “It’ll be there in the morning.”

  She waited until they reached the red light. They were the only ones at the intersection, but he stopped nonetheless. “Gage?”

  He turned to stare at her, giving her his undivided attention. The right-turn signal clicked like a slow metronome.

  “My laptop was in the backseat of my car.”

  “Oh, hell.” Without saying anything else, he flipped the turn signal to the left, and headed back to town.

  ***

  Now where was the sheriff taking the woman?

  Good thing the tweaker did his damage and left before the old man saw them. Meth made them so damn paranoid and out of control who knew what might’ve happened.

  Couldn’t follow the woman now. The sheriff might not want the job the council thrust upon him, but no way was he stupid. He’d spot a tail for sure on nearly empty roads.

  Think.

  The woman hadn’t had anything incriminating among her possessions. If she had anything to incriminate Harley in the land-grab scheme, she had to have it hidden somewhere other than the motel room. The only eviden
ce that anyone knew the property lien wasn’t on the up-and-up had been the letter Harley had at his house. That was no longer a threat.

  In fact, at the moment the only threat left to the plan was the nosy woman. If she kept poking her nose in where it didn’t belong, she’d blow the whole operation. The associates wouldn’t like it at all. Nope. Not at all. Something had to be done about her.

  She was a piece of work all right. Drove into town this morning and walked into the bank like a regular customer. Smooth.

  It would’ve been good to search her car, but with it parked in front of the bank and the deputies making rounds every hour, it wasn’t wise to chance it. Once she moved it to a parking lot out of sight, it could be searched for incriminating evidence.

  Of course if the woman and sheriff disappeared completely things could return to normal.

  Nothing else to do tonight. Time to go check on production levels for the day.

  ***

  Once they’d retrieved the laptop and discovered no harm had come to Bobby’s car, Gage managed to convince her to leave the car parked two blocks from the sheriff’s office. Despite the devastation they’d found at the motel Gage had to thank the perpetrator for one thing. After their hot, mind-blowing sex earlier, he’d wanted nothing more than to keep her with him until they’d quenched this crazy fire between them. He’d known she would’ve insisted she keep up appearances by staying at the motel. Now, thanks to the perpetrator, she’d be ensconced right in his home.

  As he drove through Westen’s deserted streets back to his house, Gage surreptitiously watched her in the truck’s dark cab. She leaned against the door, her face pressed against her hand, her crushed suit and laptop both clutched against her chest with the other.

  The sadness in her touched something primal deep inside him.

  Someone had hurt her. Someone had dared to invade her privacy, trampled her belongings and scared the hell out of her. He wanted to find the person who did this and return the favor, preferably with both fists.

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Concentrate on the road, not the woman. She’s not your responsibility to protect.