CHAPTER TWO

Johnny Cash led the way, racing to the bottom of the trail. Nothing was going to stop the border collie from beating the two-legged creatures. Ryan’s youngest brother Colin finished next, then Ryan reached the trailhead one second later, breath coming fast from an epic run.

He tapped the wooden sign. “Forty-four minutes for this trail. Our best time ever,” he said, as his heart beat furiously from the final sprint down the hill.

“Forty-four minutes for me. Forty-four minutes and one second for you,” Colin corrected, with an arch of the eyebrow.

“Cocky bastard,” Ryan said with a grin, as a bead of sweat slid down his chest. He headed for the water fountain, pressed the spout, then patted the edge. “C’mon boy.”

Johnny Cash trotted over, leapt up, and placed his paws on the stone edge of the fountain, lapping up streams of water. Like the rest of them, he’d worked hard that evening on the trail run.

When his dog was done, he went next, taking a long, cold drink, then headed to the wooden fence at the base of the trail, resting his elbows against the rail. Something had been on his mind for days. Something he kept trying to make heads and tails of with no success yet.

“Tomorrow’s the big day. I’m going to the principal’s office in the afternoon,” Ryan remarked with a wry tone, trying to make light of the three p.m. appointment on his calendar tomorrow. His dog wandered to his feet and lay down on the cool dirt, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you got into another fight on the ice?” Colin joked.

“Ha. You know I’m the one who breaks up the fights,” he said, referring to his self-appointed role in the hockey games he played – making sure none of his teammates lost their cool. Then, he cleared his throat and turned serious. “I’m meeting with the detective. He called earlier in the week to set up a time. I asked if he had anything in particular he wanted to talk about.”

Colin arched an eyebrow. “Did he tell you?”

Ryan shook his head. “Nope. That guy was Fort Knox on the phone. He said the meeting was just for routine questioning. Since I’m a potential witness he wants to talk to me. Is that what he said to you too?”

“Yup. I’m seeing him on Friday. I tried to get some more details, but he wasn’t giving them up on the phone.”

Nor had the detective disclosed them in person when he’d appeared at their sister’s post-wedding celebration a week ago to drop the news that their father’s murder investigation had been reopened. Last thing in the world Ryan had ever expected to hear. He’d been shocked to the bones to learn there was new evidence in a crime that already had two people serving life sentences.

“So you got any new ideas why the case was reopened?” he asked, giving voice to the million-dollar question. “If you had to guess…”

“Somebody must have come to the cops with new evidence. A new detail. Somebody saw something, heard something, don’t you think?” Colin asked, as he stretched out his quads after their punishing run.

“Who do you think it was who came forward?” Ryan had his own ideas, but he liked to hear what his siblings thought.

Colin rattled off a handful of names and possibilities from their mother’s ex-lover, to the gunman’s buddies, to even some of their mother’s seamstress customers from years ago. “But it could be anyone. Could be someone she made a leotard for who suddenly remembered something. And tomorrow you’ll find out. It would be fucking awesome if they find the bastards they think are involved.”

“That would, in fact, be the definition of fucking awesome,” Ryan said, then held up a closed fist to knock with his brother. “I need to head out. I’ve got a client dinner in an hour. Meeting with these guys in town from San Francisco about doing some security for them. White Box is the name.”

“What’s their line of work? Sounds like a tech app or something with a name like that.”

“It does. But they’re very, how shall we say, hands on,” Ryan said, sketching air quotes. “They run a bunch of private clubs where gentleman like to go for entertainment.

Colin wiggled his eyebrows. “Will they be taking you there tonight to make sure you get entertained properly and give them a sweetheart deal?”

Ryan laughed and shook his head. While he had nothing empirically against that form of entertainment — he was an aficionado of the female form in all its curves and softness — he didn’t expect he’d find the kind of woman whose company he enjoyed at a place like that. “Not my scene,” he said, and left it at that. He was a private man, and didn’t care to dive into the details of his personal life…or really, his tastes.

He liked it the way he liked it. Hard, rough, kinky. Call a spade a spade – he was a dirty bastard, and he knew what he wanted when it came to a woman.

Beautiful. Brilliant. Witty. Sexy. Sweet.

And someone who wanted to surrender. Who craved giving up control to him. Confident in life, and secure enough to hand over the reins in the bedroom, so he could take charge of her pleasure, and deliver ecstasy beyond her wildest fantasies.

Ryan Sloan certainly wasn’t on the hunt for someone special. He hardly had time for that. But there was a part of him that longed for that spark of connection – for a woman who had the same sinful desires.

For his perfect match.