Читать книгу The Runaway Daughter - Anna DeStefano - Страница 7

I SHOULDN’T BE DOING this.

Oakwood Chief Deputy Angie Carter had been trying to talk herself out of trouble, and the dingy pool hall, for over an hour.

The voice in her head knew what it was talking about. She’d let things go too far, which made her an idiot. Playing with fire like this would only get her singed.

But tonight, her let’s be reasonable voice wasn’t having its say.

Her hand slid higher, on a mission she couldn’t stop. Up miles of strong muscles and across the soft, warm cotton that covered the chest leaning into hers. His arms pulled her more solidly against him. Her fingers tangled in his dark brown hair.

I shouldn’t be doing this….

Oh yes, you should.

“Mmm.” His warm lips nibbled from her ear down her neck. “So this is what a lady sheriff tastes like.”

“Not…” She gasped as his hands skimmed the undersides of her breasts. “Not the new sheriff yet. But still—”

His mouth settled over hers, swallowing the second thoughts he wouldn’t let her finish. At thirty-five she was ten years his senior, more experienced both in the department and in life. With more at stake. And he…he was too young, and too handsome, and far too good at kissing to heed warnings she’d stopped listening to hours ago.

I’m not going to do this….

“N…No.” She pushed away from the wall of muscle pressed against her, the craving to lose herself in its heat nearly her undoing.

Hell yeah, she wanted this. She’d wanted it for months. But what she wanted and the crumbs life actually threw her way were two different things. A gem of reality she’d learned three years ago, when the life she’d had by the tail had crashed and burned around her.

She pulled away. A traitorous sigh escaped when his lips grazed her cheek. “No more. We shouldn’t… We can’t—”

“Feels a lot like we can to me.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, but he loosened his hold and let her slide to the far corner of the booth.

She glanced around the shadowy bar, relieved that the Eight Ball was deserted. It was late at night in the middle of a work week, and every other sane person in town was home in bed.

“No one’s here to see your fall from grace, darlin’.” He followed her gaze. His deep chuckle made her ache to pull him closer again. He looked too amazing in his Wranglers and vintage Harley-Davidson T-shirt. Too much like something she could get used to wanting.

Why did he have to find fun in everything he did? Why did she have to envy him the talent?

The lightness he brought to every situation—even the tough ones they often faced on the job, or as they did volunteer work with some of the more mixed-up kids at Oakwood’s youth center—was a constant temptation. Terrifying was a better word for the way his laughter drew her in.

Why hadn’t they left well enough alone? People didn’t stumble over friendships like theirs every day. He was easy to like, easy to hang out with, this man who’d cornered the market on forgetting the past— the very thing she longed to be a pro at herself.

Then she’d gone and let herself want more.

“Tonight was a mistake,” she sputtered.

A real stupid move, and she wasn’t stupid.

Not anymore.

“Mistakes aren’t always bad, Carter.” He used her last name, the way officers addressed each other. Like a peer on the force. A good buddy.

Only this was the buddy she’d just been crawling all over. And he never called her Carter in that lazy, sinful way when they were on duty.

She applied the back of her hand to her lips and wiped. Sipped her now-warm beer. If she couldn’t taste him anymore, she’d have a shot at damage control.

“I’m ten years older than you are.”

“Damn straight! I like my women more experienced and ready to teach me somethin’.”

“Don’t be an ass.” If whatever this was between them was about sexual experience, he was a dirty old man, and she was the jailbait.

He tipped back his own longneck bottle and raised an eyebrow at her get-real glare.

“Okay,” he conceded. “Maybe I like a challenge. Pushing limits can be a whole lot of fun.”

“If getting fired is the kind of limit you’re looking to blow, then I’m your girl.”

“No one’s getting fired.” His settled his shoulders against the cushioned seat with a thump. “Lighten up, will ya?” There wasn’t much punch behind his complaint. Without looking her in the eye, he toyed with the label he’d shredded off his beer. “Why is everything so damn serious with you? You’ve got so much moody bottled up inside, you feel enough for ten people. Probably why we’re such a good fit.” He chuckled. “Lord knows, there’s no other woman in town who’d get me within ten feet of talking about feelings.”

And there it was.

That hint of something beneath the good ol’ boy facade.

Tony Rivers played Mr. Good Times like a Hollywood star. But turbulent currents ran beneath all that practiced nonchalance. There were glimpses of passion and determination, always at the most unexpected times. A sense of responsibility and duty to others that contradicted both his party lifestyle and his youth. A spark of intensity flashing behind come-here-baby brown eyes that sucked her in even quicker than his smile.

And he was poking fun at her moodiness?

“Serious is the only way my life works.” How she made it through the day. “I work hard, and I don’t make careless mistakes like this.”

“Not being the most controlled person in the room might be fun for a change. Why not give it a chance?” His lips curled playfully. “Who knows, darlin’. You might just like a bit of carelessness in your life.”

“Carelessness is something I can’t afford to develop a taste for. I’m leaving.” She cringed at the schoolgirl waver in her voice.

She stood, her frazzled nerves screaming to sprint, not walk, toward the door. His hand caught her wrist, and her skin tingled with excitement, same as any other time they touched.

“I’m sorry.” All teasing drained from his voice. “Look, you’re right. This was a mistake. The last thing I want to do is cause you trouble, but…”

His unfinished sentence vibrated between them. Words beyond good friends and easy camaraderie. Words that would shove the craziness they’d started tonight over the invisible line between careless and too far.

How many times had they almost had this conversation? How many months had she let this drag on, as they flirted with the ugly way this could turn out for both of them?

Against her better judgment, she let her gaze caress his face. The bar’s dim lighting and the uncharacteristic worried expression Tony wore had produced a sight few in town would believe. Roughness edged the jaw of Oakwood’s golden boy and shadows eclipsed his nonstop cheerfulness. The restraint it took not to smooth away his frown made her ache.

They’d only talked about his parents once or twice, but she knew enough, and had guessed plenty more. He’d lost them both too young—his mom, when she’d split only a year after he was born; then his dad, killed while on the job as sheriff six years later. And ever since, he’d made a point of not letting himself want anything or anyone he couldn’t walk away from with a shrug and smile. Keeping everyone at a comfortable distance while he was the life of the party was more Tony’s style. A warped world view Angie couldn’t help but appreciate. She hid behind her man’s uniform and her career. He overindulged in shallow relationships with women. The end result was the same.

Sometimes she wasn’t sure who was lonelier.

“Let me go, Tony.”

“Come on, don’t leave like this. It won’t happen again.” His grip on her arm tightened. “We see each other at work nearly every day. You’ve been friends with my family for years. We’re going to have to figure out what to do when—”

“There’s nothing to figure out. There is no when!” She pulled free and slammed the door shut on her indecision. “And you’re damn right this will never happen again. I’m your superior officer, Deputy Rivers. That means hands off, for both of us.”

She made herself walk out of the Eight Ball. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need him.

She’d rebuilt her life from nothing. She’d regained a speck of the peace she’d thought she’d lost for good. Her job as a deputy, and then chief, had saved her. Her run for sheriff was the future.

It was enough.

It had to be.

“ARE YOU TELLING ME you want a lady sheriff?” Deputy Martin Rhodes asked with a sideways glance. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Would that be so bad?” Tony ducked his head farther into his locker.

It was a little after three o’clock; he and Martin were rolling off their morning shift, and all the man wanted to talk about was their chief deputy.

Perfect.

“Angie’s a good cop.” Tony kept his mind focused on the job, and only the job. “Everybody knows that. She’s been chief for three years now.”

“Yeah, but that’s with your brother overseeing things.” Martin was practically pouting. An alarming sight on the burly man, who looked better suited for a career in professional wrestling than small-town law enforcement. “Eric is old-school, like I hear your daddy was. Laid back, until he has to bust some balls. Then he’s the point guy you want leading the charge. Angie… Well, you know how she is.”

Tony’s grunt said he didn’t know a thing about their chief deputy, which was the God’s-honest truth. He fished in his locker for street clothes to replace the sweaty uniform he’d shucked off. Not even interested in a shower before he dressed and left, he stripped down to his boxers and let the frustration of all he and his riding partner hadn’t accomplished that day wash over him. Drugs were leaking into Oakwood and the surrounding county. From where, the department wasn’t sure yet. But they had damn well better figure it out.

Their sleepy little corner of Georgia had the unfortunate distinction of being strategically located on a major north-south interstate running from the Carolinas down through Florida. A convenient crossroads, as it turned out, through which producers of the latest narcotic commodity of choice could network with southeastern buyers and dealers.

Crystal meth—inexpensive and instantly addictive—had wormed a filthy trail through Oakwood over the last year. And each of the nine deputies in the department was committed to finding the dealers and their runners before any more damage was done. Before any more people were hurt. Just last month, the town’s first drive-by shooting had resulted in an unknown man riddled with bullets and left to die on a street corner not two blocks from the Oakwood Youth Center. No ID. No one came forward to claim the body. No clue to who’d killed him.

Tony had been on duty since six, after a near-sleepless night, hunting a mobile drug lab one of Martin’s contacts had fingered as a sure-thing tip. Only the lab had vanished before they’d gotten there, leaving Tony and Martin roaming dirt roads on the outskirts of town, searching for an unmarked four-wheel-drive SUV with a trailer attached. They’d found nothing for their efforts but rising July temperatures and more questions. Like how the local drug network always managed to stay one step ahead of the department.

And if trudging through mosquitoes and steamy weather hadn’t been bad enough, his partner’s relentless preoccupation with Angie’s bid to become the next sheriff kept veering into downright uncomfortable territory.

“You know she’s not right for the job.” Martin could make a bulldog look wishy-washy. “I don’t care if she’s the mayor’s pet project, or if she and Eric are friends. He’s got no business pushing for her election, when—”

“My brother’s not pushing for anything.” Tony slammed his locker shut. Catching his friend’s shock at his uncharacteristic outburst, he shrugged and rifled through his duffel bag. “The people in town will make up their own minds when they vote. And Angie will have the city council to answer to if she’s elected. That’s a month down the road. Why get your panties in a wad about it now?”

Right back atcha, Rivers.

Defending Angie to anyone in the department was stupid. The woman could take care of herself. Yeah, she wanted this election badly. But there was no crime in that, even if she did seem downright desperate lately.

Desperate.

An image from last night barreled into him. An instant replay of Angie, all soft brown hair, hot green eyes and desperation, pushing away from the sexiest kiss he’d ever been on the receiving end of. The look on her face had hinted that he could be the center of her world. He could be what she wanted most. The answer to whatever she was searching for so desperately.

He swallowed a curse. Angie had made it clear anything beyond friendship and strictly business was a nonstarter. Obsessing about memories of how good they were together was pointless.

Thank God!

No more wondering what made her tick. No more circling the woman, looking for a way in like a teenager on hormone overload. It was time to shrug off Martin’s nonsense and thoughts of Angie and drive his tired ass home.

“This town’s not ready for a woman sheriff,” his partner insisted. “Not that woman, anyway. The department’s not ready. I don’t care how nice the legs are under those man-pants she always wears.”

Well, hell.

“The lady’s legs aren’t any of your business.” Some things even an easygoing guy couldn’t let slide. Tony laced his sneakers so tight, it was a wonder he could still feel his toes. “Angie’s pulled her weight around here, and then some, for as long as my brother. Gender’s got nothing to do with being sheriff, unless your problem’s with women on the force in general.”

“I’m not the one with the problem.” Martin’s face reddened. “It’s our chief deputy who’s got herself a problem. Sure Angie’s climbed her way to the top. Hell, she’s a regular poster child for equal opportunity. And she’s an okay cop, when she’s not distracted by press conferences with the mayor, or brown-nosing your brother. But being in charge takes more than that pair of balls she’s been trying to grow. She’s burned a lot of bridges, and she’s been promoted over a lot of good men who were in line before her. Every time the mayor shakes her hand and treats her like one of his family, she’s taking credit for the hard work of every other deputy in the department. And a lot of us don’t appreciate it. That ain’t going to change because she charms herself a new title.”

Tony could only stare. Angie took her commitment to protecting the citizens of Oakwood as seriously as any of the men. She was in law enforcement to serve her fellow citizens, not just to build a career. And she was working around the clock like the rest of the deputies, fighting to stomp out the drugs ripping at their small-town world. Yet the resentment toward her from a handful of the men grew stronger by the day.

Martin nodded as his words sunk in. “Your brother and the mayor’s influence might get her elected. But it’s a whole different ball game after that. If the woman isn’t careful, she’ll look for someone to watch her back one day, and there might not be anyone lining up to do the job.”

“That’s the most ignorant load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Tony pushed himself off the bench. The nasty feelings brewing inside him since leaving the Eight Ball alone last night boiled over. “Angie Carter’s the finest cop in this county. She’d take a bullet for your sorry ass without blinking an eye, though at the moment I can’t think of a single good reason why.”

He stepped forward. The several inches in height he had on Martin crowded the heavier man against the lockers.

“I don’t ever want to hear you or anyone else threaten not to cover her back, you hear me?”

“What’s wrong with you, man?” Martin used his forearm to shove some distance between them. “I didn’t mean nothin’. Besides, why are you so determined to defend her all of a sudden? You’re downright cagey every time her name comes up. I even heard a rumor you and Carter might have something goin’—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Tony realized he was pointing a finger in his friend’s face. Overreacting to a wad of harmless, locker room griping at the end of a long, hot morning.

All because he’d felt like pounding something for weeks.

“Problem, boys?”

Eric rounded the row of lockers closest to them.

“No problem,” Tony and Martin said in unison, neither breaking eye contact. Neither moving a muscle.

Eric cleared his throat, a nonverbal bid for their undivided attention. Tony blinked first, fed up with the whole scene. When the hell had he started caring so much what anyone thought about anything? He grabbed his duffel bag from where he’d dropped it beneath the bench, and headed for the door.

“I was just leaving,” he mumbled as he strode past his brother.

They were having a special dinner at home that night, and he needed a couple hours of sleep before he could manage another round of everything’s okay. It was a send-off of sorts. Eric and his new bride were heading for New York in the morning—on a belated honeymoon and to scout out places to live while their nineteen-year-old daughter attended NYU.

Tony’s family was moving away. Evaporating. Only a year after his spunky, long-lost niece and sister-in-law had dropped back into their lives, and then undergone delicate, lifesaving surgeries. In another month, two at the most, they’d be gone.

He found himself scouting the deserted hallway for something to kick.

The over-the-top impulse had him chuckling to himself. Damn, man, you’re losing it. Suck it up and cut the melodrama.

Eric, Carrinne and Maggie deserved whatever happiness they could grab. No way was he standing in their way, even if he was already missing them like hell.

He felt Eric’s stare track him as he walked away. He’d only made it halfway down the hall when he heard footsteps approach from behind.

“Hold up,” his brother called.

Tony hefted his duffel higher and kept moving.

“I said hold up.” Eric grabbed Tony’s arm and yanked him around.

“Not now, okay!”

The look on Eric’s face insisted that now was exactly when it was going to be.

Eric had always been more of father than a brother to Tony. The man had given up a chunk of his life after their parents were both gone, to make sure Tony had one of his own. Tony’s respect for Eric’s sacrifices was rock solid. His brother was as steady as they came. Regardless of the crap life threw his way, he stuck it out, muscled through and made things work. And he took nothing more seriously than he did his family, especially after all they’d been through this last year. And that, Tony admired most of all. Squaring his shoulders, he made himself stay put.

This conversation was long overdue. If it hadn’t been for the drug mess eating up every speck of Eric’s free time, Tony wouldn’t have been able to avoid him this long. He deserved the ass-chewing, and he was done making his brother hunt him down to do it.

“Suppose you tell me what the hell’s going on between you and Angie?” Eric crossed his arms, digging in for the duration.