Too Fast to Fall (Jackson Hole 1.10)

Oh, God. “Get out,” she pushed past clenched teeth.

“Jenny, please.”

She snatched up her skirt and tugged it on. Her heart beat so quickly it felt like nothing more than trembling. “I thought you came here for me.”

“I did!”

“You did not! Last night, you came to the saloon about my driving. Today, you came here about my ex-husband. Well, let me reassure you, Deputy Hendricks, you don’t need to worry about me anymore. I called about the class. I start next month. And Ellis Stone is starting a landscaping operation, so there’s everything I know. I hope all this important information was worth going that deep undercover!”

He reached for her again, and she shook off his hand, looking frantically around for a sweater that seemed to have disappeared. But Nate was still naked, and though she tried to avoid his eyes, she couldn’t avoid the feel of his skin against hers when he finally caught her and pulled her close.

“I’m asking about those things because I’m trying to figure you out.”

The feel of his hands on her naked back infuriated her. Because they felt good. So damn good, even while she was pissed and humiliated. She felt such a rush of fear and hate at the thought that she was able to shove him hard enough to get free.

“Then there’s something seriously wrong with you. If you want to get to know me, try asking me about myself. You know, the old standards. ‘What’s your favorite movie? What do you do for fun?’ Most men find that more effective than ‘Can I see your license and registration?’ or ‘How’s your ex-husband these days?’ or ‘Tell me all about your fucked-up childhood.’”

The silence that rang through the room after her last words made clear just how loudly she’d shouted. The shock on Nate’s face was another clue. Jenny pressed her fingers to her mouth as if she could erase the echo of her own voice. “You should go,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve handled this really badly. I wanted to talk to you about it. Christ, Jenny. I meant to talk this out with you, and then I saw you, and I forgot what I was worried about.”

“So you fucked me and then got right back on the job?”

“That’s not… I just wanted…”

She felt a brief moment of triumph that she’d reduced him to stammering, but that was the most pitiful, stupid victory she’d ever embraced in her life, and it threw a little water on her fiery rage. “I don’t know what this is about, Nate. I don’t know what Ellis has done to draw your attention, aside from pissing you off, but I can’t help. He showed up to see me after ten years, and I sent him on his way. End of story. Now please go.”

“Jenny, I’m sorry. My brain wasn’t working right after I came. I mean, after we made love. You were just so… God, I couldn’t fucking think.”

She wanted to melt into the floor. Disappear. Cease to exist. Yes. She’d been so. For him. She retreated into the living room and tugged her sweater roughly over her head, desperate to cover herself. “You need to go. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he dressed quickly. “I’ll call you tonight.” When she didn’t answer, he left without another word, closing the door carefully behind him.

There was that ringing silence again. Jenny turned in a slow circle, taking in her apartment in a daze. What the hell had just happened? She’d invited a cute guy over for lunch, and less than an ho

ur later, she’d been fucked within an inch of her life and then treated like a witness to a crime. Or an accessory.

Oh, Jesus, what was she was an accessory to?

She raced to her bedroom to snatch her phone from the table, then call the number she’d entered just last night. She should have checked inside the boxes he’d brought over.

“Hey, Jennybug,” Ellis said.

“Ellis, what the hell is in those boxes?”

“I told you. Landscaping stuff.”

She slammed her door open and rushed down the stairs. “Where are you? I need you to get over here right now and get these boxes out of my garage.”

“What? I just unloaded them last night! What in the world is wrong with you?”

Jenny stomped over to the old building that was fronted by four dented, beat-up garage doors. It wasn’t attached and it wasn’t fancy, but in a mountain ski town, garage space was a treasured luxury. One she shouldn’t have so easily ceded to Ellis. “Get over here, Ellis. I’m not kidding. I want them out. You’re involved with something. I know it.”

“It’s landscaping,” he said with a firmness that betrayed him. As if he was trying to convince himself. As if he was bolstering an argument. But if it was the truth, why would he need an argument?

“Damn it, Ellis! I was trying to help you.”

“You are!”