Название | Coming Home To Crimson |
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Автор произведения | Michelle Major |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Crimson, Colorado |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474077781 |
Yet in the end, she couldn’t stay away. Kevin had acted so disappointed she wasn’t coming, dropping subtle hints that he’d planned to pop the question in Aspen. So she’d taken a red-eye into Denver, then a commuter plane to Aspen, thinking how fun it would be to surprise him.
She’d surprised him all right, in bed with another woman. Could it get more clichéd than that? Her life had been reduced to a cliché.
“How about we start with the registration?” the sheriff asked, his voice gentling as if somehow he could sense what a mess she was on the inside.
That infuriated her even more. Sienna didn’t do vulnerable. People around her saw what she wanted them to see, and the thought that this mountain-town Mayberry lawman could see beyond her mask made her want to lash out at someone. Anyone. Sheriff Hot Pants, for one.
She dipped her chin and looked up at him through her lashes, flashing a small, knowing smile. “How about I write a healthy-size check to the police foundation or your favorite charity...” She winked. “Or you for that matter and we both go on our merry way?”
“Are you offering me a bribe?”
She widened her smile. “Call it an incentive.”
The sheriff took off his sunglasses, shoving them into his front shirt pocket. His eyes were brown, the color of warm honey, but his gaze was frigid. “How’s the thought of being arrested as an incentive for you to hand me the registration?”
He smiled as he asked the question. His full lips revealed a set of perfectly straight teeth in a way that made him look like some sort of predator. “Or perhaps you’d like to step out of the car and I’ll handcuff you? Another viable option, ma’am.”
Blowing out a breath, Sienna grabbed the stack of papers from the glove compartment. She hated that her fingers trembled as she leafed through to find the registration card.
She held it up without speaking, and the sheriff plucked it from her fingers.
“Do you have anything else you’d like to say before I run your information?” he asked conversationally.
“I might like to call my lawyer in Crimson,” she answered automatically. It would be just her luck that Kevin the scumbag had reported his rental car as missing after she’d convinced the bellman to release it to her. It had felt like a tiny sliver of retribution for what he’d done but now it was coming back to bite her in—
“You have an attorney in Crimson? I find it hard to believe you have ties to anyone in my town.”
“Your town,” she muttered. “Like you own it.”
“Ma’am.” This iteration was a warning.
“I do know an attorney,” she snapped before he could say anything more. “Jase Crenshaw.”
The sheriff laughed. “You know Jase?”
The way he asked the question made her feel two inches tall. As if Jase Crenshaw wouldn’t want anything to do with a woman like Sienna. Which was both ridiculous and possibly true at this point.
But she didn’t let him see her doubt. Never show anyone the doubt.
Instead she flashed another smile. “I certainly hope I know Jase. He’s my brother.”
* * *
Cole Bennett blinked. Once. Twice. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, then pulled the sunglasses out of his pocket and returned them to his face.
If the gorgeous and obviously high-strung blonde in the Porsche had told him her brother was the President, he wouldn’t have been more surprised.
He patted his open palm on the top of the car. “Sit tight.”
“Are you going to call Jase?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless.
“I’m going to run your plates and make sure this car hasn’t been reported stolen.”
She snorted, a strangely appealing sound coming from a woman who looked so uptight he guessed she’d never made a noise that wasn’t appropriate for a luncheon at a ritzy country club. Living in the mountains of Colorado, Cole had little use for anything fancy, even with Aspen an easy thirty-minute drive down the road.
“My cheating, dirtbag, sleazeball ex is probably too busy entertaining his mistress to even realize the car is gone.”
Cole was amused despite himself. “And when he does?”
She rolled her pale blue eyes. “I borrowed the car. I’m planning to return it.”
“I gather you recently discovered the cheating, dirtbag, sleazeball side of him.”
“Along with a view of his saggy, naked butt in bed with another woman—that part I could have done without.”
“How long did you date?”
“A little over two years.”
“And his saggy butt came as a surprise?”
She laughed, low and husky, and he felt it all the way to his toes. “I got good at not looking. He had other redeemable qualities.”
“Fidelity wasn’t one of them?”
He regretted the question when the corners of her mouth turned down. He liked seeing her smile and got the impression she didn’t do it half as much as she should.
“Apparently not.”
“Do I need to confiscate the keys so you don’t take off?” he asked conversationally. “I’m not in the mood for a car chase today.”
She met his gaze, her blue eyes sparking with some emotion he couldn’t name but that resonated deep in his gut. “Do I look like a flight risk?”
“You look like ten kinds of trouble,” he answered, then turned and headed for the Jeep he drove while on duty. Cole Bennett didn’t need trouble in his life, no matter how appealing a package it came wrapped in.
Both the car and the woman checked out fine, but Cole didn’t trust that things wouldn’t go south when the ex-boyfriend realized the car was gone. Maybe she was indeed going to return it, or maybe she was going to do something stupid that would end up bad for all of them.
Cole prided himself on his ability to read people and situations. It was a skill he’d learned first in the army and then through a more recent career in law enforcement. But Sienna Pierce was an enigma.
On the surface, she was a perfect, polished society type—the kind of woman he would have looked right through on any given day. But a current of something more ran just below the surface—a feral energy he didn’t quite understand but that drew him despite his better judgment.
He glanced through the front window of the Jeep to the Porsche and sighed. He could call Jase and dump this problem onto his friend’s doorstep. There was no doubt Sienna was going to be a problem. Jase rarely talked about the sister who’d left with their mother when they were kids.
But Cole knew his friend had received a letter from his estranged mother last fall. It had pushed his recovering alcoholic father, Declan, off the wagon in a tumble that had almost cost Jase the town’s mayoral election and the woman he loved.
Jase was a good man, honest and loyal. Cole understood better than most how much that meant and what a rare commodity it could be. No matter what Sienna’s intentions were, her brother would give her the benefit of the doubt and open his home and heart to her. Cole wasn’t