Anywhere with You

by Debbi Rawlins

  “Well, don’t you clean up nicely.”

  The deep voice sent a flutter down her spine. Taking a moment to compose herself, she met his eyes. “I’m not tearing up the ticket.”

  Ben just smiled and passed her a flute. “I’d planned to rescue you a minute ago. I figured that might soften you up, but I was too late.”

  “Rescue me?”

  He glanced back at the crowd. “I saw some guy bothering you.”

  “Who?”

  “An old guy with a bad comb-over.”

  Grace laughed. Oh, wouldn’t Clarence love to hear that description. “Better watch it. He’s the mayor.”

  “Figures.”

  “And my uncle.”

  “Ah. My apologies.” With that lazy smile of his, he looked about as apologetic as a tomcat toying with a mouse. No, he didn’t care who Clarence was to her or the town. “I didn’t want him chasing you off before we could get better acquainted.”

  Grace snorted a laugh. He was smooth, a real charmer. In her line of work, she met quite a few, usually trying to talk their way out of an arrest.

  “You don’t believe me?” He was watching her, studying her face with a faintly bemused expression that she didn’t care for. Though fair was fair. She’d given him the once-over earlier. The difference was, while she’d admired his bronzed skin, he was probably counting her freckles.

  She stared at the champagne she’d absently accepted from him. “I really shouldn’t drink this,” she said and took a sip. “I have to drive.”

  “You can’t have far to go. Not in this town.”

  She moved slightly so his shoulder blocked the remaining rays of sunlight and she didn’t have to squint at him. He had a strong jaw, a symmetrical face. “Most accidents happen within five miles of home.”

  Amusement brought out the gold flecks in his eyes. “Makes sense. Statistically speaking.” He paused. “Are you going to tell me your first name?”

  “You can call me deputy.”

  He seemed momentarily startled, then threw his head back and laughed. So loudly that people turned and stared. Including Chloe and the other blond bridesmaid standing by the tent pole. Grace got the feeling they’d been watching her and Ben all along. They were probably wondering why he’d approached her. Grace wondered the same thing.

  She cleared her throat. “It’s Grace.”

  “Grace,” he repeated, and surprised her by offering his hand.

  His palm was rough against hers, which wasn’t exactly soft and tender, either. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grace. The name suits you.”

  “Um...really not so much.”

  Ben’s brows lifted, just a tiny bit, as though she intrigued him. He’d be disappointed. If only she’d left when she had the chance.

  After studying her a moment, his attention drifted toward the house. He watched the guests gathered on the porch and then swept a gaze over the tent crowd. Most likely plotting an escape.

  “Lucky it didn’t rain today,” she murmured, searching the sky. A few clouds hovered but none threatened. “I heard Rachel pushed the date back, hoping for an outdoor wedding.”

  He said nothing, but she sensed his amusement at her feeble attempt to change the subject. She saw a band setting up on the stage and realized the oak planks in front of it served as a dance floor. No way she’d stick around for dancing. It would be just like Clarence to drag her up there with some cowboy. Not Ben, though. She imagined her uncle would give him a wide berth.

  Katy had joined her friends and they all were staring at Grace and Ben. The brunette looked sulky and Grace wondered what had happened between her and Ben.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Ben murmured.

  Grace blinked. Talk about rude and unexpected. Not that he’d get a rise out of her. “They’re Rachel’s sorority sisters,” she said, turning back to him.

  He frowned. “Who?”

  “The bridesmaids. Rachel’s friends.”

  He followed her gaze, his frown deepening. With a short laugh, he looked at Grace. “I was referring to the Rockies.”

  “Oh.” She silently cursed herself and her fair skin, then gave the mountains her complete attention. “Yes, they are breathtaking.”

  “That snow melts and comes streaming all the way to the foothills,” he said, pointing. “Four-wheelers can make it clear to that ridge when it’s not too muddy. People go up just to see the wildflowers.”

  She squinted, trying to follow the direction of his finger. “Why am I not seeing a ridge?”

  “Come here.” He took her arm and stationed her in front of him. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he ducked down to her eye level, his cheek close to hers. “Right there,” he said, gesturing with the champagne flute. “See where the aspens are still bare?”

  She nodded, the movement causing her cheek to rub against his stubbled jaw. Her skin tingled. Not just at the point of contact, either, but all the way down her back.

  Grace didn’t like it. Didn’t like that she could so acutely feel the heat from his body. Hated that his touch had awoken a sudden yearning. She didn’t need the aggravation of wanting something she couldn’t have.

  She swallowed. “That’s pretty high up for a quad to go,” she said, moving her shoulder and shifting to the side.

  “You can’t be squeamish. On some of those trails, your tires are hugging the edge.” Ben finally lowered his hand. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. You tip over and sure, you’ll get beat up some, but you won’t slide all the way down. Eventually the trees will stop your fall.”

  That made her laugh. “So, you could break your arms and legs, and God knows what else. And likely total your four-wheeler. Explain to me how that’s not so bad.”

  His smile alone would make any sane woman run and hide. “Hell, if you put it that way...”

  “I heard you’re a stunt man, so your perspective might be skewed.”

  He shrugged. “Kids go up there all the time. Back in high school, Cole, Jesse, along with half the football team, we all used to go up there. We survived.”

  She sighed. “I miss those days. Being certain I knew everything was so comforting.”

  Eyes narrowed, Ben searched her face, giving her the feeling he’d taken her casual remark personally. “You’re not from the area,” he said finally.

  “I moved here two weeks ago.” She paused when she heard someone call his name. “I think you’re being summoned.” She nodded toward the tent.

  Ben turned. “Is that Trace?”

  “I believe so.” She hadn’t actually met the youngest McAllister brother, but no mistaking the resemblance to Cole and Jesse.

  “Jesus. He was thirteen when I left. Tall and skinny as a rail.” Ben lifted his hand in acknowledgment, the fondness in his gaze kind of sweet. “The kid talked horses and trucks nonstop. And girls. He was worried his brothers and I weren’t going to leave him any.”

  “Did you?”

  His slow smile was ridiculously sexy. “A few.”

  “They’re motioning for you to join them. Go ahead. I think they’re taking pictures.”

  “Come with me.”

  “No.” Grace shook her head, surprised he’d asked. “They’re your family. I’d feel awkward.”

  He hesitated as if he wanted to argue the point, but then just nodded. “Don’t go anywhere. Okay?”

  She simply smiled. She never made a promise she couldn’t keep.

  3

  BEN WASN’T IN a hurry to reach the group. He scanned the people surrounding Rachel and Matt, not keen on unexpectedly coming face-to-face with his mother. He’d see her soon, but not with everyone watching.

  “Get over here, Carter.” Trace held a pair of longnecks in one hand and motioned with the other.

  Ben had
n’t gone by Carter for a long time. His last name was Wolf now and had been for thirteen years, since he’d scraped together enough money to legally change it. Carter had never been his real name, anyway. Nor Hilda’s. She’d made it up after she’d run out on his father, whose name she refused to divulge.

  Jesse was standing beside Trace. Cole was there, too, along with a couple of women Ben didn’t recognize. Rachel was trying in vain to get everyone’s attention while an older man set up a camera.

  “Rachel got you in a tux, huh?” Ben extended his hand to Trace, who ignored it and gave him a hearty one-armed hug.

  “Man, it’s good to see you,” Trace said, his voice deeper now.

  “Yeah, it’s been a while,” Ben said casually, unprepared for the emotion washing over him. He’d been fairly tight with Cole and Jesse. They were close in age and shared many of the same interests. But with Trace, the bond was different.

  He’d been a baby when Ben moved to the Sundance. Trace had grown up thinking of Ben as his older brother, often confiding in him instead of Cole or Jesse. The day Ben had told him he was leaving, Trace had punched a door and broken his hand.

  Cole and Jesse joined them, only briefly. After the handshaking was done, the photographer asked them to move a few tables.

  Trace left the task to his older brothers and nodded at Ben’s empty flute. “You don’t have to drink that champagne crap. Here.” With a grin, Trace offered him a longneck. “We saved the good stuff for immediate family.”

  Ben accepted the beer, saw Trace’s jeans and cowboy boots, and laughed.

  Trace tugged at the lapel of his tux jacket. “Rachel hasn’t noticed yet.” He looked guiltily over his shoulder. “I didn’t know she wanted more pictures so I went inside and changed. As long as that photographer dude shoots from the waist up, it shouldn’t matter.”

  Ben shook his head. “She’s gonna kick your ass.”

  “I know. If she doesn’t, Nikki will.”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  Trace shrugged. “In three months, we’ll be getting hitched, too, so she’s a little more than that, I guess.”

  “Ya think?” Ben’s laughter turned a few heads.

  “Nice. Get me in trouble,” Trace said, glancing around. “By the way, the Porsche...yours or a rental?”

  “I bought it last year and got ticketed twice in three weeks.”

  “Only twice?” Trace took a pull of his beer. “You gonna let me take it for a spin?”

  “You finally learn how to use a clutch?”

  Ben waited for Trace to remember the driving lessons. Teaching a twelve-year-old to drive hadn’t been one of his wiser ideas.

  Trace winced. “Ah, man, that was humiliating.”

  The second time he’d gotten behind the wheel of the ranch’s old Ford, Trace had clipped a tree and smashed the side mirror. Ben had taken the blame rather than admit his stupidity.

  “You still owe me,” he said. “Your dad made me pay for the repair out of my salary.”

  “Yep, I do. I’ll even tack on interest.”

  Ben smiled. “I had no business letting you drive.” He flashed back to another day, another time, and took a gulp of beer. “I didn’t know about your dad,” he said quietly. “About the cancer, or that he’d passed away. I found out much later.”

  “I know.” Trace clapped him on the back. “Everyone knew you would’ve come back if you’d heard in time.”

  “My fault for not keeping in touch.” Ben surprised himself with the admission. He’d always felt his mom was to blame for everything that was wrong in his life. Her claim that she’d run from abuse didn’t completely add up. Why isolate herself and her kids from her own family? Ben didn’t know his grandparents. Or where he was born. Or if he had uncles, aunts and cousins.

  It was one thing to lie to a couple of kids, but once they’d turned eighteen, he and Claudia had a right to know, even if the truth was messy. Hilda’s silence was a barrier he’d never been able to cross. The longer his mother continued to lie to them, the more convinced Ben became that she was hiding the truth not just about their father, but also about herself. Why else would she keep her silence? The man was dead.

  “Ben?” Trace’s tone indicated it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get Ben’s attention. “Rachel wants us. The photographer’s waiting.”

  “She wants you, not me.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “Benedicto,” Rachel’s voice carried over the murmurs of the bridal party who’d gathered near the stage. “Get over here.”

  “See?” Trace grumbled. “Still bossy as hell.”

  Ben had to smile. He gave Rachel a small shake of his head, and her glare turned pleading.

  “For what it’s worth, your mom’s busy in the kitchen,” Trace said quietly, then strolled toward the waiting group.

  Ben glanced at Katy and the other bridesmaids eyeing him as if he were a juicy steak. Normally, he’d already have decided on his companion for later. But he was restless, edgy.

  And there was Grace to consider. Something about her quiet beauty and wit appealed to him. Add the fact that she was a refreshing challenge. She hadn’t flirted with him once. He turned to see if he should pick up another drink for her. She could probably tempt him into...

  She wasn’t where he had left her.

  He looked toward the house, then panned across a group of women huddled near the bar. Grace wasn’t among them. He could tell they were local women, though none he recognized. A pair of older cowboys carrying guitars emerged from a row of parked trucks.

  Ben squinted at a blur of movement behind them and caught a glimpse of her. Only for a second. He waited a moment, watching to see if maybe she’d gone to get something out of her car. A minute later, a silver compact drove out the driveway.

  Disappointment settled like a weight on his shoulders. He shrugged it off. Now wasn’t the time for a hookup, anyway. Especially not with the local law. He had too much crap swirling in his head. He craned his neck for a look at the Porsche. He’d parked it between the stable and a tree, where another vehicle couldn’t fit. He didn’t need his doors getting dinged.

  Arriving late had been by design. He’d wanted everyone to see him driving the Porsche, prove to them he wasn’t a charity case. Yet he’d forgotten all about the damn thing until Trace had mentioned it.

  Ben drew air deep into his lungs. Nothing was going the way he’d expected. And he’d prepared for plenty...anger, resentment, even nerves.

  But shit.

  He’d never expected to feel like he’d come home.

  * * *

  GRACE GRABBED KEYS out of her desk drawer and holstered her gun. She didn’t have to look at Danny and Roy to know they were smirking like a couple of jackasses. They did every time she brought out her Glock, as if they’d never seen a woman carry a gun before. Scary to think those two were actually deputies.

  “So, how did you enjoy the party last night?” Roy asked, leaning back in his chair, his fingers locked behind his head, his round belly straining his uniform shirt.

  She’d been waiting for him to mention the reception. Just to cause trouble. “It was great.”

  “You left early.”

  Grace raised her brows. “I hope your wife didn’t notice you were keeping track of me. She might get the wrong idea.”

  Danny chuckled, and Roy shot him a dirty look.

  “Tell me something, Grace,” Roy said, “why do you suppose that you, being a newcomer and all, got an invite to the wedding and Danny, Wade and Gus didn’t?”

  Of course this was about her being the mayor’s niece. “I guess you’ll have to ask Rachel or Matt that question.” She set her blue ball cap on her head.

  “Quit wearing that stupid thing. Get yourself a Stetson so you look like a real deputy
,” Danny said and abruptly swung his boots off the desk.

  “Oh, I should emulate you two so I can fit in?” She turned for the door, muttering under her breath, “Maybe if I lost fifty IQ points.”

  Noah was standing in the open doorway, not six feet away.

  That’s why Danny had snapped to attention—

  Oh, God. “Hi, boss,” she said, her cheeks burning. Of course Noah had heard her. She’d apologize for the unprofessional remark later. But damned if she’d do it in front of Roy and Danny.

  At least the sheriff didn’t look annoyed. In fact, he seemed to be controlling a smile. She liked Noah. An ex-Chicago police detective, he was sharp, professional and moving on to work for the marshal service.

  “I thought you were off today, Noah,” Roy said, remaining relaxed in his chair, exercising his familiarity with their boss for Grace’s benefit.

  “I just came by to get something.” Noah stopped and eyed Roy. “Do me a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “Order another uniform shirt.”

  “But, boss—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Shaking his head, Noah walked to his desk. “We’ve had this discussion twice already.”

  Roy moved his hands from behind his head and glared at Grace. So now she was to blame for him blowing his diet?

  “Who’s on patrol?” Noah asked.

  “I am.” She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I was just headed out. Need something?”

  “Take a few traffic cones with you in case you run into any mudslides. The rain came down fairly hard around midnight.”

  Grace nodded, making a mental note to jot down the information. She’d started a notebook to record all the little things the other deputies already knew from growing up here. The doorknob shook. Someone outside was trying to open the door, so she pulled her hand back.

  It was Clarence. Oh, great.

  “Good morning, Mayor,” she said and stepped aside.

  He crossed the threshold, his sour expression changing the instant he noticed the men. “Mornin’ Sheriff Calder, deputies,” he said, nodding at them. He stopped in front of Roy. “Don’t we have money in the budget for uniforms? Get yourself a bigger size, son, before you pop a button and take out someone’s eye.”