Page 12 of Outlaw Ridge: Hayes

Hayes and she went to the cruiser with Jemma automatically getting behind the wheel. As a rookie, she was the one to drive the sheriff around whenever he got called in on some issue that happened during her shift.

“Full disclosure,” she said as she started driving. Aiden was right behind them in the Hummer. “I knew the escape room was a setup blind date because Melanie told me.”

Hayes frowned. “And you went anyway?”

“I did,” she verified and debated how much she should keep to herself about this. Jemma just continued the full disclosureroute. “I also went to the two parties where I knew you’d be. I was interested in seeing you. I know you wear a gold wedding band on each of your pinkie fingers, but I found out you weren’t married so I thought, well, that you were…available.”

There. She’d done it. She had basically just thrown herself at him to let him know she was attracted to him.

But then the awkwardness came with a vengeance.

“Crap,” she grumbled. “Either you’re not into me or else you’re put off by my family ties. It’s okay—”

“Neither,” Hayes snapped. But that was all he said for several long moments. “Your family ties don’t bother me as much as they probably should.” Another pause. “And I’m attracted to you.”

A nice warm buzz flitted through her. It felt like a little silver lining in a whole bunch of dark storm clouds.

It didn’t last.

Hayes’ mumbled profanity caused it to disappear. “Full disclosure,” he echoed, lifting his hands. He tapped the ring on his right pinkie. “That belonged to my mom, who was a cop, and she was killed in the line of duty when I was six.” He tapped the other ring. “I bought that one for my fiancée four years ago.My late fiancée,” he emphasized. “She was an FBI agent, and three weeks before our wedding, she was killed by a fugitive in a shootout.”

“Well, shit,” Jemma spat out. She certainly hadn’t heard any buzz about that. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he muttered. “But now you understand…well, you understand.”

She did. Twice burned in a seriously bad way would put anyone off of getting involved with a potential third burning.

“I’ll back off,” she assured him.

He made a sound, one that she thought might be of disproval. Or was that wishful thinking? She didn’t have time to dwell on it though, because they had reached their destination.

Her family’s estate.

Such that it was.

The area surrounding it was plenty beautiful enough, thanks to the backdrop of Texas Hill Country. Lush trees, green hills, and a picturesque limestone bluff. But the house itself looked more like a sprawling prison with its dark gray limestone exterior. Added to that, it was surrounded by a wrought iron black fence.

There wasn’t an actual Keep Out sign, but there was nothing welcoming about the place either.

“Home, sweet home,” she grumbled, using her keycode at the gate so both Aiden and she could drive through.

She parked in the circular drive with Aiden pulling to a stop right behind her. Hayes put in an earpiece, no doubt so he alert his brother if something went wrong, and he gave her one as well. And because that somethinggoing wrongcould include her being gunned down, Jemma had a long look around. Checking for any signs of a sniper. If one was nearby, she couldn’t see him so she stepped from the cruiser.

Just as her father opened the door of the estate.

He made an imposing figure standing there and throwing off his usual mafia-cowboy vibe. Jeans and boots on the lower half of him. A crisp white shirt, black jacket and black Stetson on the top half. And, yep, that Stetson band sported a rattler’s tail, which is supposedly how he’d gained his nickname. She also suspected his dangerous, quick-strike reputation had added to it.

“Jemma.” He went to her, pulling her into his arms for a hard dad hug.

And she hugged back.

She hadn’t lied to Owen when she said her father was a complicated man. He was. So were her feelings for him, too. The woman in her hated so many of the things he’d done, but the daughter in her loved him beyond reason.

Jemma didn’t let the hug go on long. This was a business trip, and there was that pesky possibility of a sniper being around.

“Dad, this is Hayes Brodie,” she said as she stepped back. “DeputyHayes Brodie,” she amended. “This is my father, Stefano Salvetti.”

“Hayes,” her father greeted, offering his hand, which Hayes shook. Reluctantly. “You’re here about the murders.”

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