Bullets & Bonfires

Can I be the girlfriend of a sheriff?

The wife?

Whoa. Slow your roll, girl.

One romp does not equal wedding bells.

Besides, aren’t I always saying I don’t believe in marriage? Isn’t that what I told my friends at school when they asked when Chad and I were getting married?

It was a lie.

I want all those things. I convinced myself I didn’t because I think, deep down, I knew Chad was wrong for me.

Why didn’t I leave sooner?

I stop and think of something positive. Count the good things in my life. Something I learned in my group counseling sessions.

I end up eating alone and putting the rest of dinner away for Liam, even though the expression on Kimber’s face clearly says she’d be happy to finish it.

Except for taking Kimber outside a couple times, I stay indoors.

I peek out the front door and notice a Sheriff’s car cruising by the house. My heart speeds up, thinking it might be Liam stopping in for a quick hello.

But it’s not.

When the same sheriff drives by an hour later, I know Liam’s thinking of me. Must have asked one of the guys he works with to check on me.

A little while later I send him a text to say thank you.

But he doesn’t respond.

We were on the same page about our relationship, right?

Stop. I am not some needy, clingy woman who falls to pieces if her boyfriend doesn’t check in every fifteen minutes. Liam has an important, demanding job.

Unease settles over me.

What if something happened to him?

Who would think to let me know?

I could call his parents, but it seems shitty to worry them for no reason.

Except, now I can’t stop thinking about all the awful possibilities.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Being separated from Bree for so long annoys me no end. But my job doesn’t always have regular hours, something I know she understands and I hope she’ll forgive.

Endless reports, interviews, more reports, reviewing medical records, accompanying a social worker to the hospital and then the residence.

Yeah, it was a long night.

Bone-weary, I finally clomp up the front steps only to find a solitary lamp lighting up the entryway.

My stomach tightens in disappointment, but I’m not surprised. It has to be close to five in the morning. I wouldn’t want Bree to wait up for me.

The door to the bedroom is wide open, inviting me in. Bree’s sprawled out on her stomach, her face half under her pillow. My lips twitch into a smile. She’d slept that exact same way as a kid. Drove my mom nuts because she worried Bree would smother herself.

I don’t want to disturb her, and I figure she should be up in a few hours. I need to decompress anyway, so I strip down to a T-shirt and shorts, flick on the television, and stretch out on the couch.

Even though my plan was to wait for Bree to wake up, sleep comes swift and solid.

The same house surrounds me. The way it looked ten years ago. Faded, peeling wallpaper, rotted carpet, smoke-stench clinging to everything.

More garbage litters the floor than I remember. Walking through the rooms, they distort and morph into the house I investigated earlier.

Somewhere in the back of the house Brianna’s crying.

No matter how many times I push garbage and debris out of my way, I can’t reach her. I call out for Brady, but my voice won’t carry over the mountains of stuff piled throughout the house.

Sounds of flesh on flesh reach my ears. Someone being hurt. Smacked. Punched. Hard.

Dread curls in my gut.

Did Chad find Brianna?

“Liam,” she calls softly, sounding so far away.

“I’m here, baby girl.” I can’t make my mouth work, and the words just stick in my throat.

“Liam.” This time her voice is sharper and cuts through the fog. Soft hands press into my shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Huh?” I turn and almost fall off the edge of the couch. The filth is gone. I’m staring at gleaming hardwood floors and Brianna’s feet.

“Why are you out here?” she demands.

“What?” I scrub my hands over my face, sit up, and try to make sense of my world.

“You were having a bad dream.” The couch dips as she sits next to me, running her hand over my back.

I blink a few times and glance around the living room, then over at Bree. “Are you okay?”

She huffs out a laugh. The sweetest fucking sound in the world after the night I just had. “I’m fine. Worried as hell about you. Bad night?”

Intense relief pulses through me. I pull her into my arms, crushing her against my chest. She wraps her arms around me, hugging just as fiercely.

“I was worried about you,” she mumbles into my shirt.

“Yes, it was a bad night,” I finally answer her question.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t want that ugliness touching you.”

Her hand stops moving over my back.

“I can’t talk about an ongoing-investigation with you anyway, sweetheart.”

“Oh.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after eight.”

I turn my gaze on her, taking in the tight workout pants that end right below her knees and the baggy shirt—one of my sheriff department T-shirts.

“Damn, you look good in that.”

One corner of her mouth quirks up. “You don’t mind?”

“Hell no.”

“I was going to go to one of Sully’s morning classes,” she explains, gesturing to the outfit.

A prick of jealousy pokes at me, but I push it back.

“That’s good.”

She turns her head away but not before I notice the way her bottom lip trembles. “I can stay…if you want me to?”

The shy way she asks says she’s afraid I’ll tell her no. “Is there another class today? I really do want you to go. But I also want to be selfish.”

“You do?”

I brush her hair out of her face so I can see her better. “Look at me.”

When she finally meets my eyes, I lean in. “I missed you so much last night.”

She runs her fingers over my cheek. “I missed you too. I tried waiting up for you, but…”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called. I got your text so late, I didn’t want to write back and wake you up.”

“You had one of the guys check on me, didn’t you?” she asks.

“Sure did. He didn’t bother you did he?”

“No. Not at all. I just noticed the same patrol car go by more than once.” She stands and holds her hands out to me. “Come on. You should lie down in the bedroom and get some more sleep. What time did you get home?”

The way she’s standing there beckoning me to the bedroom is way too sexy to resist. I take her hands and yank her into my lap. I fall back against the couch and guide her until she’s straddling me. “Five.”

She opens her mouth, but I place my hand at the back of her head and pull her in for a kiss. My other hand slides up under the back of her shirt.

“You look hot in this, but I need it off,” I say, tugging the shirt up. She lifts her arms and I slip it off and send it sailing across the room.

“Christ, you’re perfect.” My hands go to her breasts, encased in a neon-green sports bra that somehow pushes her tits up and keeps them in place. “This is sexy.” My hands fumble at the back, seeking a clasp. “How the fuck do I get it off?”

She chuckles and points to the front where there’s a small black zipper. “Oh,” I say, working it down. “I was too busy admiring these.” The bra comes off, and I fill my hands with her bare breasts.

“I did not spend enough time here,” I warn her right before sucking one hard nipple into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasps and squirms against me.

“In a minute.” I grab her other nipple, drawing it into my mouth and lashing it with my tongue. Turns out, I can’t wait another minute. “Hold on to me.”

She mumbles out a questioning sound, but I’m too busy throwing the blankets down, then wrapping my arms around her and taking us both to the floor. We’re both franticly ripping at each other’s clothes. Her sneakers get in the way of me stripping her pants off, and I don’t have the patience to fuck around. Urging her to turn over, I squeeze her hip. “Stick your ass up in the air for me.”