Page 29 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“You’d think Uncle Garrett would put a day shift deputy on that,” Drew said.
“He offered. I said no. It’s my case.”
“Anything I can do to help?” the eager amateur detective asked.
“Not yet, but I’m not too proud to tell you if I need something.”
Drew smiled, a bright summer-girl smile amid her butterscotch blonde waves and Texas tan. There was something about brown-eyed blondes, wasn’t there?
But then her face went serious again. “Have you talked to Ethan about spying on his brother like this?”
“No.” Willow took a breath, preparing to justify herself when she knew damn well she couldn’t. “Look, it’s between me and Jeremiah. I heard him say he was deceivin’ me, and that he was here lookin’ for somethin’. Not his long-lost brother like he told us all, but somethin’ his criminal father left here for safekeepin’. Somethin’ physical that could be buried.”
“And why do you have anything to do with any of this, cuz? What do you care if he’s deceivin’ you?”
She shifted her eyes to her steering wheel. “I’m a deputy sheriff. If he’s deceivin’ me, it might be because he’s doing somethin’ criminal.”
She looked back at Drew to see if she’d bought it.
Drew’s eyes and mouth were both open too wide. She closed her mouth, then said, “You had sex with him.”
“I did not!”
“Ohmygosh, you so had sex with him. You’re blushing! Willow, you have to tell me everything. Better yet, wait, I’ll get Maria and Lily and we’ll?—”
“I don’t want anyone to know!” she blurted.
Drew bit back the rest of her suggestion. Then she pursed her lips, and gave a slow nod. “Okay. I won’t breathe a word. Promise.”
“Okay.”
“As long as you tell me everything.”
Willow looked at her watch, then shook her head. “I have to meet the sketch artist.”
“Can I come along? I’ve never seen a sketch artist in action before.”
Willow realized Drew had her over a barrel. Not that she’d use what she knew against her. Probably. “Okay fine, you can come with me and watch the sketch artist.”
Jeremiah went back to bed after Willow left him in the middle of the night. He woke up late the next morning, hugging his twisted up blanket and muttering Willow’s name, listening to his heart pound unnaturally in his chest in a way that had to mean something was wrong with it.
Then he realized the pounding wasn’t his heart, but somebody knocking on the bunkhouse door. Or maybe a combination of both.
Groaning, he rolled out of the bed, shuffled to the front door, and pulled it open to find his younger-but-bigger brother Ethan on the other side. He probably should’ve noted the look on his face before he pulled the door open.
Ethan’s big fists gripped him by the front of his T-shirt. “I saw my cousin Willow sneakin’ outta here like a thief, long about two a.m. What the hay is goin’ on?”
“Don’t you think you should ask me first and beat me up after I’ve answered?”
“That’s why I didn’t punch you in the face when you opened the door.”
Jeremiah pulled himself free and smoothed his rumpled T-shirt. He felt at an extreme disadvantage in his shorts, and he was afraid his brother would kill him if he admitted to defiling his beloved cousin.
God, she’d been something, though. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, that crazy long hair, that satin skin, the sounds she made, the taste of her kisses…
“Well?” Ethan demanded.
“Willow’s helping me retrace our old man’s steps while he was in Quinn, before he was arrested.”
