Page 75 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

“Your lucky fucking day,” I murmured, handing Max the towel again. “I need to take this.”

“What?” he asked. “If you didn’t have to answer the phone, you’d kill me right here?”

“I’d pin you against this wall,” I told him, “tie your wrists with my belt so you’d stop fucking with me, then sink my cock so deep inside you that I wouldn’t even have time to consider killing you.”

His eyes flared wide just for a moment.

God, you really do want it, don’t you?

I watched the dimples at the bottom of his back as he padded down the short hall toward his bedroom.

Finally, I answered my phone, heat still rolling through my veins.

“Dom. Hey,” I said.

“Got a little gift for you,” Dominic said in a singsong voice.

I pulled in a long breath, walking over to Max’s kitchen and looking out the little open window above his sink. “Tell me. What’s up?”

“A certain police chief had a little oopsie last night.”

My interest was piqued immediately. “No way.”

“Oh, yes, Draven,” Dominic said, like he knew exactly how good this news was. “It was him.”

“McGowan? What happened?”

“McGowan, indeed. It was a DUI,” Dominic said. “A really bad one. Not just alcohol. He was still on painkillers after his time at the hospital. They’re trying to keep tight-lipped about it, obviously, but you know what that means.”

Shit.

Dom reallydidhave a gift for me. A Christmas gift the size of a fucking police chief.

Brody McGowan.

The youngest police chief the department had ever had, thanks to his family connections.

The fucking piece of shit who used to be our friend.

“Leverage,” I said.

“Leverage.”

I drummed my fingers on the kitchen countertop, possibilities floating through my mind. “This is fucking huge, Dom.”

“I know. I’m still working on the Bill Franklin problem, but theworseproblem seems to be moving in our favor.”

I pulled in a slow breath, looking out at the overcast skies outside Max’s kitchen window. The shrubs and trees were blowing in a gentle breeze, and I saw the fluffy white cat, rooting around next to one of the honeysuckle plants.

“Maybe I’ll actually be able to come back sooner rather than later,” I said.

The thought of going home to Montana still felt like a far-off mirage.

For a while it hadn’t seemed possible that any solutions would present themselves back home.

But if Brody McGowan was out as police chief, that would be massive.

If I was able to get out of any major legal repercussions,andcould somehow get Franklin not to press charges…

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