“She wasn’t in the pickup last night. Darius hadn’t brought her with him for the trade.”
He’d suspected as much.
“Still trying to find her and the kidnapper,” the sheriff continued. “He wants the rest of the money. He called. I’m making the drop this evening. I’m going to get the girl back.”
Holden could see the weight of all this on the sheriff. He hated that he’d only added to that burden by letting his anger get the best of him. He could have gotten them both killed up on that mountain.
“You need to know the truth,” Holden said. “Should have told you sooner. You were right. He doesn’t really care about the money or an apology or acknowledgment. He wants to destroy me.” He grabbed the sheriff’s hand. “I know now. He’ll kill Holly Jo.”
BIRDIE PRIED OPEN the window and swung her leg over the sill. She listened for a moment before she dropped into the room. Looking around, she saw that she’d guessed right. It was a bedroom. But was it the right one?
The room was at the back of the house. From where she stood in the dim early light of morning, the room showed no sign of being inhabited. The bed had been made to perfection as if the place was a five-star hotel. It smelled good, too.
As she rounded the bed, headed for the closed closest door, she stumbled over something that had been left on the floor. Looking down, she saw what she had tripped over. A pair of cowboy boots casually kicked off. A few feet away was a long-sleeved Western shirt. She picked up the shirt and took a sniff, smiling at the familiar male scent. This was the right room.
As her eyes adjusted to cool darkness, she followed a trail of discarded clothing from the man-size cowboy boots to the door she suspected went to the bathroom. She could hear water running as she got closer. The room had taken on a different scent, distinctly male, as she moved past socks, jeans, a T-shirt and finally a worn straw cowboy hat.
Quietly, she opened the bathroom door into the steam-filled room. She could see Brand behind the frosted glass. He’d told her that she was too impulsive. She wondered if he’d still feel that way in a few minutes as she stripped off her clothing and opened the shower door.
BRAND THOUGHT FOR a moment this amazing creature coming through the steam was only a dream. But he couldn’t have dreamed this beauty before him. Water beaded on her long dark hair. Rivulets ran down over her full breasts, into the hollow of her flat stomach and straight to the V between her legs.
My God, she was extraordinary. Birdie smiled at his obvious surprise at seeing her appear in his shower as she joined him under the warm spray and closed the shower door behind her.
“No water at your hotel?” he asked as he stepped back to give her more room in the large shower.
“How did you know?” She gave him an innocent look.
“Probably no soap either?” he asked as he reached for the bath gel, poured some into his palm. Moving closer, he slowly began to lather her shoulders. She leaned into him as he massaged her neck, gently caressing her throat.
“You know where this will get you, don’t you?” she asked, holding his gaze.
When he didn’t respond right away, she added, “Need some time to think about it?”
He chuckled as he slid his soapy hands slowly down to her breasts. “I’m pretty happy right where I am.” Her nipples were already hard and pulsing as he smoothed the gel over the rock-hard tips, cupping her breasts, thumbing the rosy tips until she let out a pleasurable sound.
Their gazes locked. “So we’re finally no longer skating around this? We’re really going to do this?”
She smiled. “Give the county something to really talk about, you mean?”
He nodded, unable to believe he was here with this woman. The old Brand would have run like hell from a woman like Birdie Malone. That Brand didn’t take chances, especially with his heart.
But here he was, and he’d never felt more alive, more ready to put that man he’d been behind him. Loving Birdie was risky. It was scary as hell, but he was already halfway there. He drew her closer, their bodies molding together as he dropped his mouth to hers.
BIRDIE TRIED TO catch her breath as they drew apart from the kiss. His hands cupped her wet breasts before trailing down over her belly, dipping between her legs. His fingers were slick and wet. She had to lean back against the shower wall as her legs began to quiver. He leaned into her, kissing her as his fingers moved. She moaned against his mouth, gripping his shoulders as the heat inside her rose and rose, catching fire as her climax came hard and fast, making her shudder with the intensity of it. She fell into him, his arms coming around her as she caught her breath, legs wobbly. He drew her closer, kissing her tenderly, his hands cupping her buttocks.
Drawing back from a kiss, she picked up the shower gel and, after filling her palm, began to explore his body. She’d already seen his impressive naked chest, but the sight of the muscular rest of him was truly spectacular. She said as much, making him laugh.
“Haven’t been with a man for a while?” he joked.
She moved her hands over his chest, his hard nipples, and went lower, avoiding his gaze.
“Birdie?” he asked and reached down to capture her hands, to still them in his. “You have been with other men, right?”
She let out a laugh. “Of course.” Still she didn’t meet his eyes.
“How many?”
“Seriously? You want to have that conversation now?” She raised her eyes slowly. Their gazes locked. “Not that many, okay? Don’t laugh, but maybe I’ve been saving myself for a good man, the right man, like my grandmother told me to.”
He let go of her hands. “You sure you don’t want to keep looking?”
She leaned into him, kissing him as she felt his desire throbbing against her belly. “Don’t count yourself short, Brand Stafford. You’re a good man. The right one?” She cocked her head. “I guess only time will tell.” She took him in hand, making him groan.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Birdie Malone.”
She laughed and pulled him close. “I’ll be right there with you all the way.”
The water turned cold in an instant. Ice-cold. They both yelped, then began laughing as Brand hurriedly turned off the shower and they pushed open the door, stumbling out to grab towels.
As Birdie wrapped one around her chilled body, she felt Brand’s gaze on her. She swallowed as she looked up at him. In for a penny, in for a... Whatever. She couldn’t remember all of her grandmother’s sayings.
He took a step toward her, and her mouth went dry.
Maybe he wasn’t the right man—at least, he didn’t think so—but she wanted him, more than she’d ever wanted anything. Sorry, Grandma.
HE SAID HIS name was Darius Reed. As they waited in the truck back up a gully for the cover of darkness, he talked, telling Holly Jo stories about growing up in the Powder River Basin. The more he talked, the sadder he sounded, frightening her. It was as if he’d given up. He was no longer talking about starting a fire out at the McKennas’ or spending all Holden’s money. He talked about the past and the death of his sister, Constance.
“Why do you hate Holden?” she’d asked as he’d fallen silent for a moment. After his phone call, he’d taken the tape off her mouth, but left her tied up.
