Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1)

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Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) Page 20

by Anneliese Brand


  The beep sounded shrill in Annie’s ear. She fumbled the phone, words sticking in her throat. Disconnecting the call, she dropped the phone in her lap. She was so pathetic. What did she say? She hugged the purple fleece tighter. If she didn’t leave a message CJ was going to think she was mad at him. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone and dialed again. She counted the rings. The easy confidence of his message made her miss him all the more.

  “Hey. It-it’s me. My phone fell out of my purse in the Jeep and I just now found it. Sorry I missed your call and messages,” she stuttered. “I umm…I miss you too. I do want to talk. Call me back when you can. I ... be safe.”

  Ending the call, she flopped back against the pillow and screamed into the wadded fleece blanket. She didn’t have to listen to that message over and over to know it sounded stupid and weak. What was wrong with her? She was going to screw up potentially the best thing that had ever happened to her. Or had she already? There was no denying their couple of days in Michigan hadn’t had the same…she struggled for the word…ease, or the same vibe, as Wyoming.

  She rolled over, burrowing her nose in the pillow. It smelled like CJ. The sandalwood of the beard oil blended with the crisp outdoors that she now associated with him. Closing her eyes, she breathed it in. God, she missed him. Where had it gone wrong? The sex had still been amazing, but even a romance writer knew there had to be more. She frowned. Angie’s snide comments had annoyed both of them. Aunt Viv’s visit had put him on edge. He’d said that her family didn’t trust him. Trust him to what? CJ made her happy. Wasn’t that what her family wanted for her? What more could they ask for than a man that made her laugh and feel safe?

  Why was her family such a pain in the ass? Her dad would’ve liked CJ. Annie flopped onto her back. Where had that thought come from? It didn’t matter. She knew in her heart it was true. There were things about CJ that reminded her of her dad. More than just the beard. She smiled in the dark and wiped away a tear. They said girls looked for a man like their daddy. CJ had the same quiet strength that eased her fears and tension. This was one of those times she really missed her parents. One of them would’ve had just the right advice.

  Listening to the voicemail again, CJ frowned. Annie sounded shaky and uncertain. A lot of people weren’t comfortable when leaving a message. Was that all it was? He needed to talk to her. Glancing at the clock on his dashboard, he grimaced. As much as he wanted to hear her voice tonight, it was almost midnight in Michigan. The itinerary Cami had forwarded to his phone showed she was scheduled for three events tomorrow and his Annie sounded tired. She needed some sleep.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Cami had been anything but happy he’d come home to Wyoming. The text accompanying the document could be described as terse at best, accusatory if he wanted to be blunt. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. As much as he wanted to be there to support Annie and help ease her anxiety, the publicist’s glib comments about money rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t like Annie being treated like a cash cow, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one pushing her to do more promotion to line people’s pockets. The last thing he wanted was for Annie to think the money was important to him.

  The house looked dark and uninviting as he rolled up the drive. Until he’d met Annie this place, and his business, had been everything. Now, he wanted to come home to her. He understood his parents’ concerns. Besides the home he’d worked so hard to build and the business, he’d be moving away from them too. The Barretts were a close knit family. That wouldn’t be easy, but Annie’s family was in Michigan. With the loss she’d already had in her life how could he ask her to leave them? He couldn’t.

  He didn’t bother to turn lights on as he walked through the house. Upstairs, he changed into pajamas and logged onto the computer. Pulling up the information Bill had emailed him for the job, he read through the client’s needs and started a list of potential locales to show them. The phone ringing made him jump. It was the house phone. Crossing to the bedroom, he picked up the receiver from beside his bed.

  “Barrett,” he said, without looking at the ID.

  “Hey. Were you sleeping?”

  He hesitated, brain shifting gears at the unexpected voice.

  “No. I was working. What can I do for you?”

  “Working at ten-thirty on a Sunday night? Don’t you ever take a break? All work and no play will give you blue balls, baby.”

  CJ rolled his eyes and started back to his desk. “What do you want, Teresa?”

  “Come find out,” she said, a rhythmic rap echoing through the dark cabin.

  His head whipped toward the top of the stairs. God, he wished Annie were here, and he was so glad she wasn’t. He stared down at the carved front door. Teresa snickered like she could see him. “It’s late. You need to go home.”

  “It’s not even ten-thirty. Stop being such a stick-in-the-mud and let me in,” she cajoled.

  Shit. Was her speech slurred? He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Teresa, I have to be up early in the morning. I don’t have time for your games.”

  The knocks became more persistent.

  “You know I can still see your calendar, right? You don’t have a client tomorrow. I’m not going away.”

  He groaned and made a mental note to change all his passwords.

  “They were Bill Mallard's clients. Michelle was in a car accident. So, he’s sticking close to the hospital with her.” He hesitated. “How wasted are you?”

  “Why are we still talking on the phone when I’m standing on your porch? Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

  She fumbled the phone, humming the classic stripper Na-Na. CJ had a sinking suspicion whatever she was wearing, she wouldn’t be for long. The temperature was in the low thirties. What in the hell was he supposed to do here?

  “It’s freezing outside, Teresa. Don’t let the alcohol overrule your common sense and your body thermometer.”

  “How about you come out here and warm me up?” she asked, something brushing across the phone causing loud static.

  His fingers gripped the post at the top of the stairs. The last time he had turned down her drunken sexual advances, he had ended up sitting in the back of a squad car. She drummed against the heavy wood door, punctuating her humming tune. He was running out of time and arguments. If she was really stripping down out there it wasn’t safe for long at this temperature.

  “Where’s Austin?” he asked, praying the mention of her son would sober her up.

  “He’s with my parents. I told them I needed a little grown-up time. You remember how much fun grown-up time can be, don’t you?”

  The words muttered under his breath weren’t ones he used in mixed company. She was singing now. The song was raunchy, and painfully out of tune. He headed back to the desk for his cell phone. This was bad. One of the mechanics at the airport had told him this afternoon that his crazy Ex had been asking questions. It seemed finding out he was moving on had thrown fuel on the flames of Teresa’s jealous streak. Adding alcohol was a recipe for disaster. She was a mean and manipulative drunk. Muting the house phone, he dialed the Sheriff’s department on his cell.

  “Boone, this is CJ, I’ve got a big ass problem out here.”

  “What’s up?”

  “My crazy Ex is pounding…” He winced as the thumps grew louder. “Make that kicking, my front door. She’s drunk as a skunk and wanting a booty call. If I answer the door it’s just going to get ugly and the last thing I need is a repeat of that bullshit last year.”

  “If she pulls that shit again, her ass is going to jail,” Boone said with an edge to his normal drawl. “As amicable as you’re trying to keep things for the kid’s sake, she can’t go around filing false reports and wasting this department’s time.”

  “I get that. Right now I need you, or someone, to get out here. I’m serious, Boone. She’s stripping and this really isn’t the weather for it. If I let her in, I’m leaving myself
open to whatever bullshit lies her bruised ego makes up this time. If she leaves, I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself or someone else,” CJ said, wincing at the descriptive stream of filth that was coming out of the house phone. Was that supposed to be sexy? “Thank God I don’t have neighbors.”

  There was heavy silence on the other end of the phone.

  “I’m serious. Don’t do this to me.”

  “Sorry. I was checking on things on this end. Don’t worry. We’re taking this seriously, CJ. Mendoza is close and I’m on the way. Roger’s here. Keep the call open. We’re recording.”

  There was a rustle of clothing and then the slam of a door as Boone left the station.

  “I’m here, Barrett.”

  “Stop smirking, Roger.”

  “Who said I was?”

  “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Maybe that’s just disappointment that she’s not on my front porch.”

  “Maybe she was going alphabetically down the list of saps she’s dated. You should be safe for a while, Walden.”

  “Damn. The name always screwed me in school too,” the deputy muttered.

  The thumps and drunken monolog downstairs grew louder.

  “Talk to her. She’s feeling ignored.”

  Re-focusing on Teresa, CJ winced.

  “…ride you raw, fat boy.”

  Lucky him. This was all being recorded for posterity. The boys at the station were going to have a field day. She pounded on the window, making him jump.

  “I know you’re in there. Come on, baby. That little butter ball you were with the other day can’t turn you on like I do.”

  CJ’s jaw clenched.

  “I’ve spoiled you, baby. You can’t go back to the chubsters, now that you’ve felt the burn.”

  “Come on. Talk to her, Barrett,” Roger urged. “Mendoza is almost there.”

  Grinding his teeth, he unmuted the phone. Keeping this civil was not going to be easy. He wasn’t going to let her belittle Annie.

  “Annie is a beautiful woman, and she has class. You should try it.”

  “Aw! Isn’t that cute? That’s like saying she has a great personality.” Teresa taunted.

  “She has that too. We’ve been over for a year and a half. If you’re so great, why haven’t you found someone else?”

  “I’ve found plenty of someones. The kid chases them off,” she said, the blunt bitterness in her voice turned CJ’s stomach.

  “If they don’t accept Austin, then they’re not the kind of man you want anyway,” he said softly.

  “Says the man that dumped me for a short, fat nobody. What is wrong with you?”

  “Annie is not fat,” he snapped, then took a deep breath. Getting loud with a drunk wasn’t going to accomplish a thing. He lowered his voice. “Why do you feel the need to run other people down to make yourself feel better? Annie is curvaceous, bright, and beautiful on the inside and out. She’s sexy as hell. I love her.”

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  Teresa’s voice broke with a plaintive tremble.

  “If you really want to know, you’re self-centered and manipulative. Everything has to be about you. Even your precious feel the burn clients think you’re a bitch because you talk down to them instead of lifting them up. Some of those women would sell their soul to look like you, and that’s a shame.”

  “Screw you!” she screeched, indignant fury chasing her short-lived introspection away.

  “That’s not happening.”

  “I could have any man I want!”

  “And yet you’re stripping on my porch in February.”

  “That bitch doesn’t get to take you away from me!”

  “Don’t you get it? No one took me away. You didn’t want me.”

  Red and blue lights flickered across the front windows.

  “You could’ve kept your job and done your stupid hunting on the weekends like everyone else. You were making damn good money, baby.”

  The whining endearment and the mention of money made his temper flare.

  “That’s all a man is to you, a fucking paycheck. When we were together, I busted my ass to make you and Austin happy. When you wanted to turn the old five and dime into a yoga studio, I supported your dream. I helped you renovate that place while working sixty hours a week and guiding on the weekends. I even got my friends to pitch in when needed for nothing more than a promise that I owed them. There’s more to life than money.”

  “See what I mean? We’re good together, baby.”

  “This is what I’m talking about. It’s all about you. When I wanted to follow my dream, all you wanted to think about was how it affected you. Relationships are a two-way street, Teresa. The sooner you figure that out the sooner you’ll have a shot at actually being happy with someone.”

  “It’s a little chilly to be out here without any clothes on isn’t it Ms. Owens?”

  CJ’s shoulders relaxed at Deputy Liv Mendoza’s lilting voice. Thank God.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. My boyfriend locked me outside without my clothes,” Teresa said, her voice cracking.

  CJ growled at her manipulations. He could picture her turning on the waterworks.

  “Aren’t these your clothes here on the chair?” Mendoza asked with forced patience.

  “Oh. Umm…he must have thrown those out too. I didn’t see them. I-I’m not thinking clearly. I’m scared. He can get violent when he’s mad.”

  CJ snorted. Violent? He could count on one hand the number of times he’d even raised his voice to her, and have fingers left over.

  “Have you been drinking, Ms. Owens?”

  “I-I had a few drinks earlier, but I’m perfectly fine now.”

  “Do you know why I’m here?”

  “I guess someone called in a disturbance. I’m sorry. It’s nothing serious. Couples fight.”

  The call ended. Putting the handset on the newel post where he’d remember to hang it up, CJ lifted his cell to his ear.

  “She hung up. I’m going downstairs to let your deputy in.”

  “Careful, she’s a feisty one,” Roger said, the grin evident in his voice. “Boone should be there shortly.”

  Descending the stairs, CJ rubbed the back of his neck. Teresa was playing games again. He’d count himself lucky if this night didn’t end with him sitting in a cell. Turning the locks, he swung the front door open. He squinted against the glare of a high-powered flashlight. The Smith and Wesson just under the light was an attention getter. He slowly moved both hands into plain sight.

  Teresa shrank back, making a show of cowering behind Mendoza. He had to unclench his jaw to speak.

  “Good evening, Deputy. Thank you for coming out so quickly.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Barrett. Ms. Owens says that you threw her out of your home half-clothed. That doesn’t match the original complaint. Can you shed some light on what’s going on here?”

  A sudden gust of wind made his flannel pants whip around his legs and he shrugged a shiver away. Mendoza flipped up the collar on her duty jacket. There was no reason for them all to freeze their asses off. Flipping the switches next to the door CJ lit up the porch and house behind him before stepping back from the doorway.

  “Absolutely. You’re both welcome to step inside while we clear this up.”

  At Mendoza’s grateful nod, CJ backed further into the house, giving her plenty of space. He’d heard good things about her, but only met the female deputy a handful of times in passing. He knew from TV, and from talking to Boone, that domestic calls were some of the worst. That was the way Teresa was painting the situation and he didn’t want to do anything to make Mendoza nervous.

  Holstering her weapon and gathering Teresa’s clothes, the deputy waved the shivering blonde through ahead of her before closing out the wind. Huddling in a blanket Mendoza must have provided, Teresa tried to look pathetic. Fantasy material or not, the thigh-high boots and stockings didn’t look very warm. Too bad Annie wasn’t here. This would be great f
odder for a book. The deputy looked expectantly at him, her hand still resting on the butt of her weapon.

  “We’re not a couple. We split up over a year and a half ago. Teresa wasn’t invited here, and she was never in the house tonight to be thrown out,” he said, keeping his tone calm and factual. Just the facts, ma’am. “She called around ten-thirty from my front porch, and wanted to hookup. When I declined, she started taking off her clothes and I called the Sheriff’s department. She sounded intoxicated. I was afraid she’d hurt herself or someone else.”

  The thin wail of a siren floated through the night air.

  “That’s not true! He invited me over to talk and th-then wanted more. I told him I wanted to take it slower and he got pissed off.”

  “Fucking really, Teresa?” CJ snapped. “Again?”

  “I’ve given him way too many chances,” Teresa choked, turning her watery eyes on Mendoza in an obvious bid for female solidarity. “I keep thinking I can change him. You know?”

  “It sounds to me like you’re the one that’s not going to change,” the deputy said, lips twisting in disapproval. “This isn’t the first time you’ve cried wolf when you didn’t get your way with Mr. Barrett. Only this time it’s not just a he-said she-said. We have your conversation recorded.”

  Mouth falling open, Teresa shot him a look of surprise.

  “He can’t do that!”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Sheriff’s department.”

  Mendoza opened the door for her back-up, gaze still on Teresa.

  “We can, ma’am. Mr. Barrett called the Sheriff’s department and we record our calls. Put your clothes on.”

  “There’s one she’s not used to hearing,” Boone muttered under his breath as he joined the party. “What do we have?”

  “When I arrived Ms. Owens was alone on the porch, half-dressed. She says that Mr. Barrett invited her over to talk, got pissed off when she put the brakes on his moves, and then tossed her out of the house without her clothes, which I found on the porch with Ms. Owens. Mr. Barrett’s version is a little different. No invitation and no entry, so no forced exit. The conversation that Walden patched through to me on the way over here seems to support Mr. Barrett’s version of the events.”

 

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