Page 66 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“How?” he whispered, and the way his lips formed the word made a chill race up her spine. “I’ll do anything you want, I swear.”
Some magnetic force drew their lips together. Their bodies entwined, while their mouths devoured.
“This is so stupid,” she muttered when she scrambled for the Jeep’s rear door, and when it opened, he fell in, across the cargo bay, pulling her on top of him.
She reached behind her to close them in. The space was tiny. All the better. “I’m an idiot,” she said.
“I won’t make you an idiot.”
“You can’t, I’m already there.”
They were undressing as they spoke, kissing in between, and eventually his skin was against hers, and she was in heaven. They were entwined, they were connected, and there was nothing else, just this. Just the two of them and this powerful thing between them. Passion.
Fire, the Gringo had said.
It was everything. She lost herself in him, forgot everything else in his arms. They didn’t speak, they just kissed, and touched, and screwed as if they were the last two people on the planet.
After, as they fixed their clothes, and she watched for traffic before opening the hatch, she said, “You want to prove yourself? Let me listen to all of it.” Then she jumped down from the Jeep.
Jeremiah came out behind her, but his back was toward her as he closed the hatch. “To all of what?”
“The recordings on your phone. Your journal. You said you’d do anything to prove yourself. Let me listen to all of them.”
He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “I deleted ‘em.”
“What?”
“Sorry, it was instinct. As soon as I realized the app had been breached—it was automatic. It’s what I was raised to do. First, wipe the evidence.”
She watched his face and wondered if she’d be able to tell if he was lying. “They’ll be in your trash?—”
“I emptied it.”
“They could still be restored with?—”
“I overwrote the files,” he said. “I’m just realizing that was probably a mistake, but it’s done.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you even kidding me right now?”
“I’m…sorry?”
She closed her eyes, disappointed right to her toes. People didn’t delete files that proved their innocence.
“Then tell me what you’re lookin’ for.” She already knew; she just wanted to hear him tell the truth.
“I…” He raised his hands, palms up in supplication. Then dropped them again. “…can’t.”
“Wow. Just…” She threw her hands up. “Wow.”
“I have as much right to be angry here as you do, you know. You went in my phone?—”
“I went in your phone. Did I lie my way into your bed, Gringo? Did I screw you for information? Oh, wait, no, that was you.”
“Willow, I swear?—”
“Nope.” She held up a stop sign hand, then turned and strode back toward her pickup. “Next time I see you pass somebody on double solids, I’ll do worse than ticket you. I’ll take your license. You have a nice day.”
She got into her truck and took off, not looking at him again as she passed him, then his Jeep, and headed toward downtown Quinn and the sheriff’s department. Her hands were shaking on the steering wheel and her jaw was so clenched she was giving herself a headache.
