“What does that matter?”
“That’s not a no,” Blair crowed, and he’d about had enough. This was getting downright ridiculous. Especially when she retrieved her phone and typed something in. “Is this her? Valentine Bernard?” Sure enough, Val stared back at him through his sister’s screen.
And yeah, she was pretty. No, pretty didn’t come anywhere close to describing her. She was ravishing. Dazzling. Beautiful.
He let his eyes slip closed. He’d lost this particular fight before it’d even begun. “Yes, that’s her.”
“Ooh, look, Mom. This girl’s amazing! And I’ve seen her perform. Think it was a few years ago. She’s one of the best there is. Graceful. Talented. Fearless. You should go ask her out right now, Mark.”
“For the love of—” he groaned, but his mom interrupted, her expression grave.
“That man the judge let off scot-free,” she said, and though it hadn’t been quite that simple, it’d been close enough. “Are you concerned that he might come back and do some damage? Maybe even hurt her?”
A heated rage that Mark had rarely experienced poured through his system like acid. That was it. What had been bothering him—what had been making him act like a beast—all along. The thing with the court case wasn’t only about meting out justice, or this time,notmeting it out. It was the fact that the guy could legitimately pose a threat to Val, yet he was out there unrestrained and, other than the request he’d personally sent out, unwatched.
“I don’t know,” he bit out.
“Did she file a restraining order against him?”
“No.” He’d checked, of course. It was one of the first things he’d done.
“Well then,” her look goes just the tiniest bit sly. “Maybe you should encourage her to get one.”
“I don’t know her well enough for that.”
“Are you saying you don’t have access to her information?”
He did, and he was fully well aware that his mother knew that. So did Blair. What they didn’t know was that he’d contacted her already. That they’d had a delightful few minutes discussing nothing really important, and yet he couldn’t cease thinking about it. About every word she’d said.
Mark had felt like reaching out once hadn’t been an abuse of his power, but any more unsolicited calls—especially without some sort of direct threat against her—might be. And he didn’t abuse his power. Not ever. It would oppose the whole “serve and protect” oath he’d taken when he’d become a sheriff.
“That’s not the sort of thing I should bug her about. It’s not like I’m someone close to her or anything. I met her once. One time. So I’ll thank you both to quit filling your heads with ludicrous notions like I’m sure you’re doing.”
“Is it ludicrous to wish for my son to have a bright future?” his mother asked, but her tone had become lighter and less solemn. The slightest bit teasing.
“You know it’s not, Mom, but I’m not going to dial up this woman and ask her out to dinner and a movie. She doesn’t even live here.”
That was another point of contention. If Biggs chose to go after her at her home, it’d be almost two hours before Mark could drive there. Not that he had jurisdiction. That fact that he didn’t feel like he could trust Biggs as far as he could throw him, notwithstanding.
And he’d really relish the opportunity to throw him. Or maybe simply throw down with him.
“Where does she live?” his mother asked. Yep, she’d picked right up on that little slip of the tongue.
“Near Billings. But even then she travels pretty relentlessly on the rodeo circuit. You know how that lifestyle works. People who do rodeo gigs are seldom home.” Not to mention that she might not be interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone. Much less him.
He hadn’t had but the most casual of dates in years and hadn’t dated at all in two. Mark felt so far out of practice with the entire endeavor of dating that he wasn’t sure he’d be suitable for her even if she did say yes.
And based on her exceptional looks, her being open to going out with him at all seemed improbable. There had been a time that he’d felt self-confident around women, but once his priorities became about taking care of his family to the exclusion of all else, he no longer had time for that.
He was out of practice. Drastically.
“So, you’re not even going to try, big brother? It’s not like you to turn a blind eye to some fabulous opportunity.”
“What fabulous opportunity? Let’s say I do what you’re each encouraging me to do, and she says yes. Even if things started off well, we’d rarely see one another. It’d make my best shot with her be some insane long-distance thing that would likely fail. Then, all we’d be able to share would be a breakup. How is that better than me staying single?”
“Well, son,” his mom leaned over and gingerly patted his forearm. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. You’ll never know unless you try. Will you?”
CHAPTERSIX