Page 40 of All the Missing Pieces

I was so fucked.

16

RIDLEY

I dippedmy head beneath the spray, rinsing out my biodegradable conditioner. The run had helped burn out the worst of my anger, but tendrils of it still clung. I’d been hoping the shower and singing my favorite Fleetwood Mac song would help clear the dregs of it, but so far, no luck.

A sound carried above the water and the soft strains of my voice. A throat clearing.

I froze.Crap on a cracker.

There was something about the sound, the deep timbre of it, that had me instantly knowing the owner. And he was just about the last person I wanted to see.

I quickly shut off the water, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my body. I pulled my rainbow shower curtain back and met the ornery sheriff’s stare. “Here to threaten me again?”

Colt’s cheeks reddened slightly, and he gripped the back of his neck, squeezing as he averted his eyes. “No. I, uh, wanted to…talk.”

In the handful of run-ins I’d had with the sheriff, he’d never once seemed uncertain. Brash and asshole-ish, sure, but tentative? Never.

“So talk,” I said, gripping my towel tighter.

Colt’s gaze moved back to me, roaming over my face and trailing down my neck to hitch on the spot where my fingers latched onto terry cloth. Those deep-brown eyes darkened, but not with malice. There was shadowy heat fueling them now.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My nipples pebbled, pressing against the rough fabric. My body was an idiot. This man had been a dick of epic proportions. Rude and cruel. A grumpy-assed prick. My nipples should not be reacting to him. It was a betrayal of the highest order.

Colt’s gaze dipped lower, tracking over my bare legs. I fought the urge to clench my thighs. Damn them too.

It was my turn to clear my throat. “Give me a second to get changed, since you obviously have a problem with nudity.”

Colt choked on a laugh as I stalked past him. I hauled open the van door and then quickly shut it behind me, greeted by Tater’s meows. It was as if she had a full opinion on Colter Brooks.

“Trust me, I know,” I said as I pulled on joggers and a workout top. On second thought, I hauled a T-shirt over the bra top. My nipples couldn’t be trusted around that man.

Wringing out my hair with the towel, I piled it into a messy bun. Tater let out another deafening meow, and I sent her a stern look. “You don’t have to yell at me. You could just ask nicely.”

As if she could completely understand me, Tater let out a softer sound. I picked her up and cradled her against my chest. I reached out to the van’s door handle but stilled. “Now or never, right?”

Sucking in a breath, I slid the door open. When I did, it was to find Colt facing away from me. He stared down at the water below, his hands shoved into his pockets and broad shoulders on display.

I was a sucker for broad shoulders. They made me weak. But before my nipples could react, I noticed something else about those shoulders. Something different than the times I’d made a study of them before. Previously, they’d had a tension running through them. Something that wound the muscles tight, as if Colt were always poised to defend a strike.

Now, they had a slight tilt to them. Almost as if the muscles were defeated in some way. It didn’t fit the man. Everything about it seemed all sorts of wrong.

As I walked toward Colt, he turned, taking me in. His gaze roamed over me again, stilling in several spots: my bun, my tee, the cat in my arms.

“What happened to his leg?” he asked.

“Her leg,” I corrected. “It was injured during birth and had to be amputated. The owner didn’t want to cover the cost of surgery or deal with a three-legged cat.”

Colt’s mouth pulled down in a frown. “People are the worst.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted, scratching behind Tater’s ears. “But they can also be the best.”

He stared at me in question.

“The volunteers at the shelter took good care of her. A rescue organization took her in and covered the cost of her surgery.”

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