Читать книгу The Braddock Boys: Colton - Kimberly Raye, Kimberly Raye - Страница 10

COLTON CLIMBED BEHIND the wheel of his truck and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He’d tried to glamour her and it hadn’t worked. Not a lick.

Sure, she’d looked as if she’d wanted to fall under his spell with her parted lips and her smoldering eyes and her take me now vibe. She’d even leaned toward him once or twice, as if she meant to give in to the pull and cross the room. But then …

Nothing.

Not a damned thing.

She hadn’t launched herself into his arms and begged him to come closer, to make himself right at home.

Hell, no. She’d stood her ground and told him to come back tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

If he hadn’t been so irritated, he might have actually smiled. It had been a long time—over one hundred and fifty years to be exact—since a woman had faced off with him and actually won.

Women typically melted at his feet when he looked into their eyes. Not that he was proud of that fact.

It was simply the nature of the beast that he’d become and, he had to admit, it had its advantages. He didn’t have to worry about showing his true nature when he was having sex. All he had to do was stare deeply into his partner’s eyes and will away her memory of him.

But there was too much riding on this moment and he needed inside of that jail too badly to be the least bit amused right now. Or turned on. He needed Shelly’s cooperation more than he needed her luscious body.

The thought struck and conjured all sorts of images and he damned himself for thinking with his dick. But that, too, was the nature of the beast.

He wanted her the way he wanted all women.

Okay, so he wanted her a little bit more. She was more sexually frustrated than the average female which meant she had all that sweet, succulent energy bottled up inside of her, just waiting to be unleashed. That made her all the more attractive and damned if he didn’t want to peel away her stiff exterior and see the delicate curves hiding beneath.

Hiding. That’s what she was doing.

He knew because he’d been doing it himself for more years than he could count. Living in the shadows, protecting his true nature, surviving.

For revenge.

That’s the reason he’d kept going all those years ago when he’d lost everything. The reason he kept going now. He’d dreamt of payback, lusted after it, and now was his chance to have it.

He didn’t have time for some stubborn female with a badge. No time for touching or kissing.

Especially kissing.

He played the scenario over and over in his head for the next few minutes. The desperate urge to cross the distance to her, lean forward and touch his lips to hers.

To distract her. Persuade her.

It certainly hadn’t been because he’d wanted to kiss her. Sex was one thing. It was all about survival. Sustenance. But kissing? Talk about personal. Colton had no intention of getting personal with any woman.

No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.

“There’s no reason to sit out here all night.”

The deep voice shattered his train of thought, thankfully, and he turned to see his brother slide onto the seat next to him.

“She’s not even close.” Brent Braddock closed the door and eyed his older brother. “So why don’t you give it up and come home with me? Abby really wants to spend some time with you.”

Colton arched an eyebrow. “Abby, huh?”

Brent shrugged. “Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t mind catching up myself.” He met Colton’s gaze. “I know Cody and Travis wouldn’t mind it either. In fact, Cody really wanted you to stay out at his place.”

“The hotel is working just fine.” Or it would be if the eightysomething-year-old woman who ran the place with her grandson would stop banging on his door throughout the day, wanting to change his sheets.

“Suit yourself, but it seems a shame not to take advantage of the fact that we’re all together.”

“We’re here for a reason.”

“She won’t show up for a few more days at least,” Brent reminded him. “My contact at the prison did the transfer really fast and on the fly. Holbrook isn’t due in El Paso until the day after tomorrow. If Rose has already figured out he’s being moved—and that’s a big if—she’ll be waiting there for him. Add twenty-four hours for her to trace the transfer and identify exactly where he’s been delayed once she figures out that something is up. Another twenty-four for her to reach Skull Creek since she can only travel at night. That means we’ve got at least a week to sit around and wait.” He caught Colton’s stare. “I can’t think of a better way to spend it than getting re-acquainted with each other.”

“I’d rather not take any chances.”

Brent looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He opened the passenger door and paused. “I could hang out here for a little while.”

“Go home to your wife.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself.”

“But I’m going to.” Colton met his brother’s gaze. “This is my fight, not yours. You know that.” While they’d all suffered thanks to Rose, Colton had suffered the most. He’d lost everything and he would be the one to make her pay.

Brent looked as if he wanted to object, but then he nodded. “If you change your mind about tonight, we’ll be at my place.” In the blink of an eye, he was gone and Colton settled back in his seat to keep watch.

At least, he tried to settle in. But his nerves were wound too tight, his hands clenched, his gut tense.

Not because of Rose. Brent was right about one thing—she wasn’t even close. Colton could sense other vampires and while he felt the steady hum from his brothers and the others in Skull Creek, that was it. No prickling up his spine. No tingling in his limbs. No spike of anger in his gut.

Yet.

But she would come eventually and he would have his pound of flesh. That would be the end of it.

The end of him.

Because this wasn’t just about defeating Rose. It was about punishing her for what she’d done, and then paying the price himself for not preventing it in the first place.

That’s why he’d come here.

Skull Creek would be the end. Of Rose and of the damnable guilt that ate away inside of him.

Until then …

The scent of ripe cherries teased his nostrils. His mouth watered and his gut twisted and he stiffened.

He was in for a long night.

SHELLY WAS ON HER third donut when Bobby arrived with a tall, tanned blonde in tow.

“I wasn’t soliciting,” Honey Gentry said as the deputy steered her into a chair. “I was advertising.”

Although well into her late thirties, the woman didn’t look a day over twenty-five. With long, dark blond hair and a figure that would make any Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader insanely jealous, Honey was the sort of woman who turned heads when she walked into any room. Especially wearing skimpy Daisy Duke shorts that accented her long, endless legs and a red tank top that outlined her perfect breasts. Add a pair of red cowboy boots and it was no wonder she’d caused a riot at the Sac-n-Pac.

“Thank God. Finally I can talk to someone who doesn’t think with his crotch.” Heavily lined cornflower blue eyes shifted to Shelly. “This is all a big misunderstanding.”

Shelly arched an eyebrow. “I thought you promised Judge Myers that you were going to turn over a new leaf if he let you off with probation last year?”

“I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“Not yet.” Bobby handed over a hot pink flyer. “I caught her just in time. She was handing out these. Gave one to the mayor’s wife. She’s the one who called it in.”

“Pinkie Hamilton is as nutty as a squirrel turd. She’s just mad ‘cause her husband is one of my best customers.” Honey beamed. “He loves my honey buns.”

“You might want to keep that info to yourself until you talk to a lawyer,” Shelly warned.

“I was just advertising my product. That isn’t against the law.”

“It is if the product is a sexual favor.”

“It’s not a sexual favor.” Honey beamed. “I’ve expanded from breakfast pastries,” she indicated the basket that Bobby had plopped on Shelly’s desk, “to cupcakes. It’s my new business. I’m a cupcake caterer.”

“Yeah, right.” Bobby snorted and glanced at the pink flier. “You’re trying to tell us that Decadent Thunder Down Under is the name of a cupcake?”

“One of my top sellers.” Honey flicked her long mane of hair. “And it’s the mayor’s personal favorite which is why his wife hates my guts. She can’t cook a lick.” She motioned to the basket. “I’ve got a half dozen to deliver to him. He got stuck in a late meeting so I thought I’d do a little advertising at the Sac-n-Pac until he finished.” She motioned to the basket of sweet-smelling goodies. “It’s my granny’s recipe.”

“Cupcakes, huh?” Shelly eyed the list. “Chitty Cherry Bang Bang and Lickety My Banana Split,” she read out loud and her gaze shifted to Honey. “Don’t you think those names might be misconstrued?”

“It’s called suggestive branding. I learned it on the internet.” The woman shrugged. “It ain’t my fault if this whole town’s got their minds in the gutter. I’m just trying to beef up my business.”

“Well you’re out of business for now,” Bobby informed her as he slid behind his desk and reached for an arrest sheet.

“For soliciting?” Shelly asked the deputy.

Bobby shook his head. “When I told Pinkie I couldn’t arrest someone just because of a flyer, she got the owner of the Sac-n-Pac to file charges for loitering.”

“But that’s not fair,” Honey protested. “I wasn’t loitering. I was an actual customer. I even bought a large sweet tea and a bag of Doritos before I started handing out flyers.”

“Tell it to the judge.” Bobby reached for his fingerprint kit while Shelly barely resisted the urge to put a stop to the nonsense.

“I’m sure Judge Meyers will throw it out in a heartbeat,” she told Honey. “But we have to go through the motions when anyone presses charges.”

“This sucks.” Honey blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m going to miss Lost.”

“Maybe not.” Shelly made a mental note to get Bobby to move the small television from the back room into Honey’s cell. Yes, it violated about ten different rules, but this was a small town and these were trumped up charges. Tit for tat.

She gave Honey an encouraging smile and settled down behind her desk to finish up her own paperwork.

Her thoughts kept going to Colton Braddock and the all important fact that out of all the men who’d crossed her path that day, he’d turned out to be The One. Also known as the answer to her sexually frustrated prayers. Which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing except he wasn’t here because he wanted to have a little fun. He was here to do a job.

And he was coming back tomorrow.

She stiffened and eyed the basket sitting on the corner of her desk. Icing clung to the edge of the lid and the warm scent of sugar and vanilla teased her nostrils. The trio of donuts she’d had hadn’t come close to touching the hunger that gnawed inside of her. She needed something more filling.

She needed him.

Shelly shook away the sudden thought and leaned forward. Her hand was an inch shy of the basket when the door buzzed open and a redhead wearing a pair of oversize sunglasses rushed inside.

“Hide me,” said Shelly’s younger sister.

“Sunglasses? Really? It’s seven o’clock in the evening.”

“I don’t want to be recognized.” As if that would ever happen. At twenty-three, Darla Lancaster was tall and leggy with a killer body and enough sex appeal to have all the men in town chasing after her. She’d slowed down long enough to let one in particular catch up, only to leave him at the altar three days ago with no explanation. She’d been avoiding him ever since.

“Billy Spoon saw me coming out of the Iron Horseshoe about ten minutes ago,” Darla said, breathless. “I’m sure he’s on the phone right now blabbing to Tom.” Tom was the man she’d stood up at the altar. He was also a high powered lawyer and the mayor’s son. Translation? He had connections. Lots of them. “I’m not ready to see him yet.”

“You left him high and dry in front of a church full of people. You left me high and dry in front of a church full of people.” Wearing the worst dress ever, she added silently. “Don’t you think you owe him an explanation?” While the wedding planner had told everyone that the bride had had a family emergency, there’d been no further details as to why the lavish event had been cancelled. Nothing but an “I’m sorry” and “Be sure to pick up a slice of cake for the road.”

“How can I explain what happened when I don’t even know?” Darla rushed to the window, slid the sunglasses down her nose and peeked past the blinds. “He’s rich. Handsome. Nice. Perfect.” She turned a confused expression on Shelly. “I left the perfect man at the altar. What’s wrong with me?” Before Shelly could respond, she added, “He sent me flowers today. Imported Italian tea roses. Only the best for the best.” Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s what the card said. Talk about a great guy, right? Tom can give me everything I’ve ever wanted. Even the sex is good.” Her gaze collided with Shelly’s. “So why don’t I love him?”

“Love is overrated.” Shelly had learned that firsthand after watching their mother fall in love over and over again. “Settle for good sex and consider yourself lucky.”

“I can’t marry him if I don’t love him. But if I blow him off, he’ll get really mad and then he won’t want to marry me. Then what if I change my mind and decide I do want to marry him?” She shook her head. “I just need to stay out of sight while I try to figure things out. That way I keep my options open.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Even more ridiculous, it made sense. At least where Darla was concerned.

Shelly and her sister had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks with little money and few choices. With their mother out kicking up her heels every Saturday night and most nights in between, they’d been left to fend for themselves. Alone. Scared. Uncertain.

Shelly had overcome that uncertainty by working her way through the police academy and joining the Sheriff’s department. Her baby sister had done it with makeup and hair extensions. While Shelly could outshoot any man in Skull Creek, Darla could have him eating out of her hand with one sultry smile.

“My shift ended a few hours ago. Bobby can stall him if he comes in while I drop you off on my way home.” She motioned to the rear of the jail. “My car’s out back.”

Darla grinned. “You’re the best big sister in the world.”

“Remember that the next time you’re tempted to force me into a hideous bridesmaid’s dress.”

“That dress was straight off a Paris runway, not that you would know that, since the last time you actually went dress shopping was—I don’t know—never. Speaking of which—” She eyeballed her sister. “—since you’re going to bite the bullet and find yourself a man, you might want to fix yourself up a little.” She stared at Shelly’s starched brown cover-everything-up uniform. “Your wardrobe needs sexing up in the worst way.”

“My wardrobe is just fine the way it is and the newspaper made a mistake. It wasn’t my ad.”

Darla smiled. “I knew it! I told Mom that it had to be a misprint, but she thinks you’ve finally lightened up and are now following in her footsteps.”

She glared at her sister. “Just meet me out back.”