Chapter Four
Aiden pulled up in front of the only B&B in Crossroads and cut the engine. Next to him, Hoyt hummed the song that had been on the radio. When Aiden didn’t move, Hoyt nudged him.
“You getting that room for the Texas Ranger lady or what? I’m hungry and Delaney’s is known to run out of chicken and biscuits on a Friday.”
“I’ll only be a minute.”
As a courtesy, and almost an apology for the way he’d acted on that Skype call, Aiden had offered to set Amaryllis up with a room in the B&B. This way she’d arrive and be checked in. Hospitality was the least he could do, right?
The weather was mean and nasty, and she couldn’t have a good flight or drive from the airport. He’d offered to pick her up, but Latchaw had informed him Amaryllis was getting a rental. He’d known she was independent and shouldn’t be annoyed, but fact was, he’d been interested in seeing her next to him in his truck.
“Time’s a-wastin’, Roshannon,” Hoyt said.
“You’re welcome to go out in this downpour.”
“C’mon, a rancher’s kid like you, an ex-Marine, can’t stand a little raindrop or two.”
A wall of water hit the windshield and Aiden shot him a look. He opened the door and gave Hoyt the finger before leaping into the rain. He sprinted to the entrance and found it locked with a sign that said Entrance on Side.
His clothes were soaked and rivulets ran off his hat brim, but he made it into the building. Standing there dripping on their tile, he secured Amaryllis’s room and paid for it with the company credit card that had been given to him to cover gasoline expenses.
The girl behind the desk couldn’t be more than twenty, and she gave him a broad smile, leaning her chin on her palm. “You’re mighty wet, Aiden. How about I get you a towel to dry off?”
“I’ll just get wet running back to the truck. Thank you, though.”
“Stay a while then. Sit down in the lounge here and watch some TV. I’ll bring you a drink. Or have you had lunch yet? We serve a good hamburger.”
“Uh, thanks but no. I’ve got the deputy waiting for me to go to Delaney’s.”
“Oh!” She opened her eyes wide. They sparkled at him. “Chicken and biscuits special. Maybe I’ll come along. You got room in that truck? My mother’s around and can watch the entrance.”
“Um, I guess so. There’s a back seat.” He’d have to move some things around.
“I’ll grab my umbrella.”
There wasn’t any use in telling her no. A second later, she appeared with a light jacket and umbrella in hand. She insisted that he share the umbrella with him, and he swore she was purposely pressing the side of her breast against his arm as he held it for them both.
When they reached the truck, Hoyt’s eyebrows shot up.
Aiden gave him a shut-your-mouth look and climbed behind the wheel. Still dripping from the first run through the torrential rain. “Madison’s joining us for lunch.” He started the engine.
Ten minutes later Madison was cozied up next to him in a booth at Delaney’s with three plates of the special on order. The young woman plastered so close to him that the wetness of his clothes had to be seeping into her dry ones. But still, she didn’t move away.
When she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, Hoyt leaned across the table. “Dude, she’s all over you.”
“She’s young.” And dumb. She didn’t want anything to do with him.
“And pretty. Those blue eyes are glued to you, didn’t you notice?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you take her out? See a movie.” He waggled his brows.
Madison would be sitting in his lap in a dark theater. He shook his head. “Not interested.”
“What’s up with you, Roshannon? You never date. You got a girlfriend somewhere we don’t know about? Or are the rumors about you true and you keep one in your dungeon handcuffed to the bed?”
Alarms went off inside Aiden, along with a mental image of Amaryllis Long handcuffed to his bed. Dammit.
“No girlfriend, no dungeon.”
“A sad story then? Broken heart?”
“Nope. Sorry to disappoint.”
Hoyt sat back and eyed him. “Still nursing that depressed, battle-worn Marine attitude?”
“Definitely not.” His words came out rough. “Just haven’t found anybody worth going after.”
At that moment, Madison returned, all bouncy smiles, ponytail swinging. She was pretty and looked limber enough for a fun romp. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He needed more.
What he had in mind would scare the hell out of her.
Hoyt and Madison took up a conversation, allowing Aiden time to think… about Amaryllis and how soon she’d be in Crossroads. Rain and wind battered the front of the diner. He hoped she really had that rock-solid constitution her reputation said she did. The mountains of Wyoming could be a bitch on a good day, but in this storm, she was in for a hell of a drive.
* * * * *
Amaryllis was accustomed to small-town Podunk sheriff’s offices, but this one took the prize. The building sported peeling gray paint and a front door with a dent or five that looked to be from some harsh kicks. A few small windows were set into the front, but they couldn’t offer much light.
She glanced around at the vehicles in the parking lot. Same as Texas—trucks in various states of hard use. Judging by the hints of rust, most had a lot of miles on them.
She turned for the front door. Inside, a petite woman sat behind the desk, the phone pasted to her ear. When she spotted Amaryllis, her mouth dropped in an O. Moving the phone away from her ear, she said, “You must be Ms. Long.”
“Amaryllis, please.” She gave her a smile.
“We didn’t expect you so soon. Thought you’d have a nice lie-in after that terrible drive you must have had yesterday.”
“I’m fine.” Amaryllis offered her a smile.
“The sheriff’s out right now.”
“That’s okay. All I need is Roshannon.”
“Well, he’s flitting around here somewhere. Check his office.” She pointed and Amaryllis nodded in thanks. “Nice meeting you!” the secretary called.
She raised a hand in acknowledgement and wove around office furniture to get to the space that was Aiden Roshannon’s office. Closet, more like. The space barely fit a desk, a chair and a wastebasket, which was emptied. And his desk was neat with small stacks of papers in the corner and a pen cup.
No photos, no personal belongings. Nothing to show her a glimpse of the man she was going to spend her days with.
“Hello.” The deep voice sent a spark of electricity through her. She turned to the doorway to find Aiden Roshannon. Taller than she’d guessed, wearing the same battered black hat he had been on their video call. His gray eyes seemed to slice through her.
A flutter in her chest had her breath catching. What the hell was that about?
“Your eye’s healing.”
He blinked and then a ghost of a smile touched his lips. His hard, perfect lips. A crease extended from the corner of his mouth up into his cheek. He fingered the edge of his eye. “Yep, I’m a fast healer. Should be gone by week’s end.”
She thrust out her hand. “Amaryllis Long.”
An odd familiarity came over her. Like she’d known him much longer and not only spoken a few times on the phone or seen each other once on a computer screen. In person, he was more ruggedly handsome. Bigger. Smelled good too.
Dang, why did her body have to wake up now? It had been in a state of dormancy for months and months. Not only asleep but in a coma.
Probably because the male specimens she encountered did nothing for her.
He dropped an appraising look over her. A slow dip of his eyes from face to body that felt like a physical touch. He took her hand, enveloped it in his big, rough one, and shook it like he would a man’s as he looked her in the eyes.
Exactly what she wanted—to be treated no different than any man Roshannon would meet. So why did she feel like drawing her hand free and going outside to get her bearings for a minute?
She must still have trauma from that horrible flight. No other reason for her behavior or odd thinking.
“Aiden Roshannon.” Damn, the man spoke his name like the military man he’d been.
She let go of his hand and leaned back against his desk. His closeness and the small office was definitely affecting her. She thought about climbing over his desk and putting distance between them.
“How long you been working with rustlers?” she asked.
He lifted a shoulder and let it fall, making his T-shirt seem about to burst at the seams. She tried not to look at the flex of muscle—the man was stacked with it. Did the Marines have some new training regimen that layered men with an inhuman amount of muscle these days?
“Been working here little more than a year. Before that I was working with a different kind of rustler.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, ones carrying assault rifles.”
“Yes, that’s right.” She tried to pretend she knew little of him, but why? She wasn’t the type of woman to pretend ignorance on any topic. Aiden Roshannon was throwing her off balance, and she had no damn reason for it.
“And you’ve been with the Rangers five years.”
“That’s right.” She sized him up. Could he handle her methods of tracking down criminals? “Well, now that we’re acquainted in person, let’s get straight to it.” She stepped up to the door to pass through. He was close, so close she caught the piney scent coming off his body.
Aiden looked down at her, and she fought the urge to step back, to look away. Dammit, why was she reacting to him this way?
Lifting a brow, she waited for him to step aside and let her pass. He arched his brow right back at her. A heartbeat passed between them and then he moved aside, sweeping his arm toward the door in a gentlemanly gesture.
“Thanks,” she muttered. Her strides couldn’t be long enough to get her outside fast enough. She could use the breathing room.
“Which truck is yours?” she asked, knowing he was right behind her.
“Black one there.”
One of the newer ones, well-kept with a new wax job. She tried not to be impressed by silly things like how neat he kept his office or his vehicle. She’d worked with some real slobs in her time and those things had become pet peeves for her, especially when she was climbing into the passenger seat of a dirty truck littered with fast food bags.
She strode to the truck, opened the door and climbed behind the wheel.
“What do you think you’re doin’?” He stood at the door, on eye level with her, his gray eyes narrowed.
Pine scents hit her again.
“Driving,” she responded.
“You don’t know where you’re going and we don’t have a plan together yet.”
“We can pull it together on the road. Besides, I’ve got a GPS on my phone.”
He stopped short of rolling his eyes. “You don’t know these parts.”
She stared at him. “I was hired to do this job.”
“Then get your own truck. I’m drivin’, woman.”
She offered him a mocking, toothy smile.
He stepped back to give her room to jump out again. While she walked around the rear of the truck, she swore she felt his gaze burning holes in her back.
Or maybe her backside?
He got in and started the truck before she was seated.
“Guess we’re jumping right into work.” He gripped the wheel.
“Time’s a-wasting. You’ve got a lot of angry ranchers with their hopes pinned on you solving these cases.”
She barely got her seatbelt fastened before he was backing out onto the road. She’d seen a bit of the town but hadn’t ventured far in her rental car. “Where are we headed?”
“Where were you planning to go once you were behind the wheel?” He sent her a long look across the cab of the truck.
Now that she was seated next to him, she realized how overwhelming he was. It wasn’t his size—there were bigger men out there. But he packed a huge Texas-style wallop. Could be a chip on his shoulder, but she’d worked with worse.
“I have some ideas where to start.”
“Hmph.” He pushed the sound through his chest, which seemed to rumble the airwaves throughout the truck cab. Her nipples puckered at the vibration. Damn. She stared out the windshield. What the hell was up with her body?
Recovering her brainwaves, she asked, “What’s your plan, Roshannon?”
“A neighbor of one of the ranchers never seems to be home when I call. Jack Mitchell’s his name. It’s about time I run him to earth.”
“Good start.”
She didn’t want to say she had the same plan in mind—to speak with the neighbor. Since nobody had any information from that man, she thought it was a little fishy. Maybe Roshannon wasn’t such a newbie as she’d thought.
But that didn’t make him different. Like the others she’d worked with, he didn’t bother asking her ideas on the case. Well, she’d go along for the ride, for now. When they found the neighbor, she might change her mind about that.
* * * * *
The damn woman was as gorgeous as she’d been onscreen, and then some. Curves for miles, her hips something a man could grab onto and use to drag her down on his hard cock.
She had an air of confidence Aiden hadn’t seen in the women he’d been around. Something about her seemed earthy, like she could be happy grabbing a backpack and setting out across the country on foot. At the same time, the way she held herself gave him the idea she was well-traveled. Or an Army brat.
He tried to keep his gaze from straying to her as he drove, but he was distracted as hell by those strawberry blonde waves and deep chocolate eyes. Not to mention the smattering of freckles across her nose, cheeks and forehead.
Finding her standing in his office had thrown him for a twist. He liked his space private, and nobody went in there unless invited. Then she’d gotten behind the wheel of his truck.
As if she owned it.
He worked his molars together until he felt his jaw cramp. She was a piece of work, for sure. Her believing she could drive his truck was a liberty he would not stand for.
He had no idea how to speak to a woman like Amaryllis. She sat there in silence, legs crossed in a relaxed pose, gazing out the window at the landscape as if she hadn’t a care in the world and no need to make small talk with a stranger like him.
Yet he had to break the ice. He wasn’t a chatty man but if they were spending long days together, he couldn’t do it in complete silence. He fished around for something to say.
“Have you been to Wyoming before?”
She shook her head. “Spent about four months in Colorado last year, but I’m mostly a Southerner.”
She had a lilting drawl that coiled his body into a knot.
Maybe he didn’t want to hear her talking a lot, after all.
“What do you think of Wyoming?” He navigated a hairpin bend that backtracked around the mountain. The rancher experiencing the theft and neighbor they’d be speaking to owned land that backed right up against the mountain like a tail on a dog.
Amaryllis smoothed her long hair over her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter what I think of Wyoming, Roshannon. I have a job to do.”
“That’s true.” Could she be any more contrary? It was a simple question.
“Crap weather when you flew in probably didn’t help your opinion of the place.”
“That’s true.” She echoed his words. Was she mocking him? He replayed her response in his head a few times, listening for sarcasm. He didn’t detect any, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t being… What was the word Judd had used? Intense.
Aiden fell silent, his mind sidestepping to the case. Before he could conjure a thought on it, Amaryllis spoke.
“What’s the head count up to now? Nineteen cows stolen and four dead?”
“Five dead now. I was out half the night investigating it and helping the owner get the remains in a hole.” His eyes still felt grainy, despite a few rounds of eyedrops. If he closed his eyes, he swore he still saw the bright headlights of his truck trained on the butchered cow.
Not butchered—slaughtered. The way they had gutted it and taken the back meat, leaving most of the cow on the road with flies buzzing around it... A damn shame. Luckily the rancher had a front-end loader and was able to dig a hole and also deposit the carcass in it without a lot of physical labor.
Amaryllis pivoted in the seat to look at him, arms folded. Eyes flashing. “You didn’t fill me in on this new discovery.”
“No time. You were eager to get on the road.”
“You could have told me after we got in the truck.”
He grunted. She was a piece of work, all right.
“Who’s the owner of the latest cow killed?”
“Cole.”
She pressed her lips together. “That’s his second.”
He had to hand it to her—she knew her stuff. He nodded. “Cole’s had two killings and one theft. They did some property damage stealing the cow, broke some fence.”
It was her turn to grunt, but it was the sweetest, most feminine sound he’d ever heard. It made him think of steamy summer nights rolling on hot, twisted sheets.
Or her taking his cat o’nine tails on her sweet ass.
“Typical to cut fence. But I’ve seen worse for property damage.”
Was this a pissing match? The whole I’ve-seen-worse-from-cattle-rustlers-than-you-have? He wasn’t entering that competition. She scooted forward in her seat. “How much farther?”
He shot her an amused glance. “Don’t know these parts?”
She narrowed her brown eyes. “Of course I don’t. But like I said, I can drive anywhere using a GPS.”
He chuckled. “You can try, but it doesn’t always work here.”
She waved a hand in dismissal.
A smile tugged at his lips but he controlled his expression and kept a straight face. Last thing he wanted was for her to think he was laughing at her. Working together was going to be difficult enough.
As they drove, silence fell between them. Oddly, it wasn’t entirely awkward. He could appreciate a woman who didn’t feel the need to chatter and fill every spare moment. In the years since he’d been in the service, he hadn’t had a regular girlfriend, but he slept with a few women after leaving the Marines. None of them were permanent girlfriend material, though a few of them had tried their hardest to keep him.
And he, Judd and his cousin Wes had spent a few months in Chicago working with a security company when Aiden was between tours. The Chicago Underground had taught them all a thing or two, and Aiden had come back with experience as a Dom and a lot of ideas about what he wanted from a relationship. That narrowed down the pool of women he was willing to date.
The road downgraded from asphalt to gravel to dirt. He took a right toward Jack Mitchell’s property. He’d been here before and knew where the worst of the ruts were, so he swerved around them. Amaryllis rocked in the passenger seat, taking it all in.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the light bounce of her breasts and the way her hair swayed. He clenched his fingers around the wheel tighter. Thoughts of wrapping all that hair around his fist and yanking her head back while he cupped her full breast in his palm was not revolving around his head. Absolutely not. No way.
Judd and Wes would chuckle if he could hear Aiden’s thoughts.
“Hold on now.” The truck bumped in various potholes the size of landmines.
Amaryllis shot him a glare.
“What? I’m not doing this on purpose. Welcome to Wyoming. Where ranchers have better things to do than fill in the holes in their driveways.”
“I can see working with you will be a challenge.”
“Not if you can hold on tight.” His crooked grin couldn’t be disguised this time.
She stared at him and then shook her head but grabbed the holy-shit handle. They hit the end of the road and the ranch spread before them. Rolling land for grazing and a long house sided in rough wood. Dogs barked and chased the truck. When he rolled to a stop, the dogs leaped at the passenger window like lions lunging at prey, barking, fangs bared in greeting.
Aiden put the truck in park and sat back to see what Amaryllis would do. The few times he’d been to the property to question the owner, the dogs had tried their damnedest to run him off.
To his surprise, she opened her door and stepped out. The dogs surrounded her but she just held out her hands and let them sniff her. A snarl sounded from one, but she closed the truck door and walked off toward the house without a care.
These animals had been trained to protect their land, and they circled her like vultures on fresh meat. Amaryllis continued to walk, ignoring the hounds as she made her way forward.
He’d hand it to her—she was a tough little shit.
Aiden got out and hurried to catch up to her. One of the dogs snapped at him and he set a hand on his gun holster strapped across his hips. If one of them made a move to bite him or Amaryllis, he wouldn’t stand for it.
The dogs paced around them, issuing guttural growls as they made their way onto the front porch. The place was clean, the porch free of the usual junk he saw people collect, like old tires and bits of farm equipment. About half the places he visited in these parts had toilets sitting around their front yards, some with flowers planted in the bowls but most with weeds growing around them.
Amaryllis reached the front door and raised a hand to knock. The dogs jumped around her as if she’d raised a weapon to their master, and Aiden crowded in, set to protect her.
She shot him a look.
The second rap on the door was swallowed by more sounds of snarling dogs, and Amaryllis gripped the handle and turned it.
His heart lurched. “What the hell’re you doing? You can’t just enter a Wyoming home without invitation or you’ll meet the barrel of a shotgun.”
She arched a brow at him and called, “Hello?”
A woman ran into the front room, her eyes wide at the gall of someone entering her home. She opened her mouth to speak, but the dogs were going nuts. She clapped her hand and they silenced instantly.
“Hi, I’m Amaryllis Long and this is Aiden Roshannon. We had some questions for you about the terrible crime that was committed against one of your neighbors just last night. Have you heard of it?”
The woman blinked at the sweetness of Amaryllis’s voice. She sounded like she was asking after the woman’s blue-ribbon-winning pickles.
Amaryllis stepped farther into the space, and the dogs reacted. Aiden reached for his .40, but Amaryllis stopped him with a touch on his forearm. Then she boldly scratched the meanest, ugliest dog between the ears. In seconds it was pushing against her hand for more.
Aiden couldn’t blame it. Those fingers looked mighty tempting.
“What is your name?” Amaryllis asked the woman.
“Nicky. You can’t be here.”
“Special Investigator Roshannon and I work for the sheriff’s department and we’re asking ranchers if they’ve experienced any thefts on their properties. Do you have anything to report?”
The woman rubbed her palms down her thighs. Aiden watched her closely for any shiftiness in character. Her eyes held steady on Amaryllis, and he couldn’t read the woman.
“I… We heard some ATVs in the woods nearby the other night. Maybe it was them.”
Aiden reached for his notebook, which set the dogs to barking again. Nicky clapped to silence them, and Amaryllis tracked Aiden’s movement. He flipped open the pages and set pen to paper as Nicky gave the day of the week and approximate hour.
“So you didn’t find anything missing from your property after hearing the ATVs?” he asked her.
She shook her head, eyes downcast. He made note of that too and underlined it. In his years of studying people, he’d learned he could build the biggest case just by a suspect’s reactions to questioning. Nicky didn’t like speaking to him, that much was obvious.
“Did your husband mention anything was missing, ma’am?” Amaryllis pushed.
Her gaze flashed to Amaryllis’s. “We’re not married. He’s been my man for four years, though.”
Aiden scribbled that in his notebook without looking away from Nicky. “Where could we find your significant other? We’d like to ask if he’s heard or seen anything.”
“Uh, he ran into town about an hour ago.”
“Could we wait for him? Will he be back soon?” Amaryllis asked.
“I’m not sure when he’ll be back. I’ve got roast to put in the oven, though.” She looked to Amaryllis, and for a crazy moment, Aiden expected Nicky to invite the woman to dinner.
“We’ll come back another time, then. Thank you for talking with us.” Amaryllis went to the door and the dog, now her buddy, trailed behind, nudging her hand for more ear scratching. Amaryllis patted its head in farewell and grabbed the door handle. Aiden took that as his cue they were abandoning the questioning, but he wasn’t anywhere near finished.
Amaryllis stepped onto the porch and closed the door.
He looked down at her pretty face that gave away nothing of her thoughts. “She’s hiding something,” he said, low.
Without a word, Amaryllis headed down the porch steps and crossed the yard to the truck. The dogs were all shut up in the house, leaving it quiet enough for Aiden to think. He swung his head right and left, scoping the land for anything that seemed amiss.
Amaryllis strode toward one of the outbuildings on the property.
“You’re itchin’ to get yourself shot, aren’t ya?” he asked, grabbing her arm. “You don’t just snoop around in Wyoming.”
“In Texas either, but I’ve never been shot yet. Come close, but the bullet missed.” She spoke absently, with half a mind to her words. She was busy searching the ground.
Aiden studied the dirt where a few boot prints were set into drying mud. The heel was dug in deeper, indicating the wearer, a man judging by the size of the foot, bore his weight on his heels.
He reached for his notebook.
Amaryllis jerked her head up to stare at him. “You write everything in that?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“How cute.”
He pushed out a breath, his chest hot with sudden annoyance. “How do you keep track of details?”
Her brown eyes were wide as she tapped her temple.
Aiden didn’t take down his next note—to tell Judd he hadn’t been kidding when he said Amaryllis Long was intense. He’d remember that just fine. The woman was a grade-A pain in the ass with neon lights flashing around her. Too bad she set off a hundred sirens in Aiden’s body.