Page 78 of Badges
Tucking my fingers into the back pocket of his jeans feels so natural. Perfect.
He leads me to the passenger side, then starts to open it for me.
“Wade Rowland! We need to talk!” Oliver’s call booms across the parking lot.
“Fuck,” Wade whispers. “Get in the truck.” Swinging the door wide, he puts himself between me and the furiously approaching man.
My feet are fixed to the ground.
I don’t want Wade to get hurt.
“Elena,” he growls, pushing me behind him. “Do what I say.”
“How long were you fucking my wife?” Oliver yells from a few feet away. “You know that kind of shit can’t just float away like shit in a river.” His fists are clenched and hang at his waist.
High enough to swing.
“Where’s Paige?” I interject. “She’d be able to fill you in on all the gaps.” I try to step around Wade, but he tugs me back, almost pinching me against the seat.
“I sent her home to pack.” Oliver’s dark eyes flick over me, then focus on Wade. “She won’t be at work for a few days.” His sneer tugs up the corner of his lip to reveal his teeth. “Apparently you weren’t the only one. She was screwing her best friend’s husband too, so has to stay with her mother now.”
“Jesus, Ollie, I’m sorry.” Wade holds up his palms. “I broke things off months ago. Really, it was short lived. But if you come any closer…” He lowers his arms warily, looking every bit like a professional boxer just about to land a knockout blow.
Sexy as hell.
“Paige was the one who didn’t take ‘no’ as an answer,” I pipe up, trying to wiggle past Wade.
I just know if I get between them, I can stop this.
An old Dodge flatbed comes barreling in, dragging a curtain of dust with it.
“Oliver Brookes! What the hell are you doing?” A dark haired woman with big blue eyes leans out of the driver’s window.
She has a lanky young guy in the other seat, who jumps out before the tires slow.
“Wade? Need help?” The new guy, with a baseball hat set back on his head, appears behind Oliver. “We could hear the yellin’ from the road.”
I can see Wade noticeably relax. “No, Sawyer. We’re fine here.”
When the woman pops out, she’s shorter than I am, but her limp makes her look like a badass. “Oliver, just because you’re top dog in the chutes doesn’t mean you can be an ass here.” Her hands land on her hips as she scolds him.
I don’t know who she is, but I like her.
“Fuck off, Sophia. You don’t have any room to talk, rodeo primadonna,” Oliver barks without looking at her.
“I think we should all settle down.” Wade’s tone is deep and heavy, a practiced sound of negotiation.
Oliver’s arm raises quickly, making Wade’s back twitch where I’m pressed.
But it’s only a stern finger that jabs the air. “We ain’t done,sheriff,” he spits, then pivots past Sawyer to climb in his own work rig that’s towing a trailer with some sort of heavy machinery on it.
“That guy is such a jerk,” Sophia mutters. “He thinks he owns every rodeo just because he went to the PBR a couple of times.”
“What was that all about?” Sawyer’s wide blue eyes follow the piece of equipment gaining speed down the road.
Wade sighs. “Nothing. I had it handled. You kids shouldn’t be jumping into arguments.”
Sophia snorts. “He deserves all the shit he gets.”
