Page 39 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“Right. That’s one of the first things I noticed about you. Your optimism.”
She laughed at her own joke.
He imagined he could feel her warm breath on his ear. He stayed quiet, so she’d talk some more.
“It’s movin’ a little fast for me, you know?”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see. “‘Specially now that I’m a suspect in two local crimes?”
“You aren’t a suspect, Gringo. Something’s goin’ on. I should’ve seen it myself. Both those crimes were vandalism, just a smashed window, nothin’ taken, in either case. I’m on it. I put in a request for the anonymous tip recording about the drugstore. I want to hear it. And I know it wasn’t you. I don’t want you to think that’s got anything to do with…this.”
“Okay,” he said. And oddly, he believed her. “Could you…maybe tell me what’s got you so hesitant, then?”
“Well…I mean, to be straight-up honest about it?—”
“Please, yes, be straight-up honest about it.”
“Fine. When we’re together I can’t keep my hands off you,” she said.
He felt warmth bloom in the center of his chest, spreading outward. “I really like that about you.”
“So maybe,” she said, “we could just…talk for a while like this.”
A shiver ran up his spine. She was too smart to fool in long conversations. If he had to lie to her about anything, she might see through him. But he couldn’t say no, could he? Moreover, he didn’t want to say no. “Where are you right now?”
“Drivin’ about five miles outta the Bend. You’re on my headset, cause I have the windows down.”
“That long hair of yours must be whipping in the wind.”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
He smiled, grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out the side door to a folding chair by the empty fire pit. The pup scrambled to his huge feet and came trundling along after him.
He could picture Willow plain as day, driving in the dark with her windows down. “You haven’t passed the turnoff yet, then.” He didn’t have to tell her which turnoff he meant. His.
“It’ll be a few minutes.”
“Okay. So what should we talk about?”
“Hmm,” she said. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know. Like, uh, what do you want?”
“What do I want?” He took a swig from the beer can. The pup was wandering around, smelling everything he came to. “Right now, I want you to think about takin’ that turnoff, showing up here, and crawling into my bed. My brain isn’t functioning much beyond all that.”
He heard her exhale, imagined her smiling and shaking her head. “What do you want out of life?” she asked.
“I just told you.”
She laughed aloud that time. He did, too. The pup heard him laughing and came bounding over.
Then he got serious. Willow was trying to get to know him better. He wondered how much of himself he could reveal without scaring her away, and decided a layer of honesty might be a good start.
“I was raised by criminals. People who worked in my old man’s organization to one degree or another. I was taught not to share anything with anybody for just about any reason. Being open is…hard for me.”
“Honestly, that was pretty open. Full disclosure, I read your file.”
“How could you not? You’re a cop and we’re…whatever we are.”
“There was a photo of you at your mother’s funeral,” she said. “It must’ve been the worst day of your life.”
