Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek. Patricia Thayer

hung up and her thoughts returned to Jack Sullivan. She hated the fact that she’d even noticed his dark good looks. It wasn’t that she hadn’t encountered handsome men before. But Sullivan wasn’t your pretty boy Hollywood type. First of all, his nose had been broken, leaving it slightly off center. She doubted he’d ever had his thick sable hair styled. What had drawn her attention was that rough chiseled jaw and those deep-set bedroom eyes.

      She suddenly felt her body temperature rise and shook her head to clear any more dangerous thoughts. This man was after her brother.

      She sighed. “What have you done now, Dean?”

      She used to know everything about her brother. He hadn’t been the rough-and-tumble son Matt Kingsley could relate to. Dean never took to sports, and working the ranch had been more Willow’s forte. With Dean it had been computers. Matthew Kingsley’s son was a computer nerd.

      It had taken Dean years to finally find his calling. So the move to Seattle and the job with Walsh Industries had seemed to be a perfect fit for him. “What happened, Dean? Why is a P.I. looking for you?”

      Willow walked to the bed and sat down. Something told her Jack Sullivan was out to destroy her family. No matter what, she wasn’t about to let that happen.

      Jack groaned as he shifted into what he hoped would be a comfortable position. But there wasn’t any, since he was trying to sleep in the front seat of his car.

      He hated stakeouts. Nothing to do but wait and think, and struggle against the bad memories that came flooding back.

      Memories of one of the few people who’d ever cared about Jack. Mike Gerick. The cop who’d befriended a teenage boy and kept him out of jail. The father figure who’d opened his home to a troubled kid. The man who’d taught him to be a good cop. Mike, who was shot and died in his arms.

      What would Mike think about him quitting the force? Jack hoped his friend would give him points for the hard work he’d put into building his P.I. business…now specializing in computer espionage.

      So why was Jack sitting out here, sleeping in his car? Because there was evidence that not everything added up at Walsh Enterprises. And it was his job to find out who was responsible.

      Jack sat up in his seat and checked his watch. It was after 6:00 a.m. The sun was coming up over the ranch. It was a peaceful scene. To his right in the fenced pasture young foals chased each other in the ankle-high grass. A chestnut stallion whinnied and pranced around, his hoof scraping the ground in impatience at the mare on the other side of the fence.

      “I know how you feel, old boy,” Jack murmured. His own social life was pretty much nonexistent. Not that it was ever much to begin with. Not with him sitting alone in a car too many nights during stakeouts. Good thing he didn’t believe in long-term relationships. Love and romance didn’t go with his business. So that pretty much left him out in the cold.

      Still, his thoughts turned once again to the pretty Willow. She sure lived up to her name. Tall and slender with those big china-blue eyes. Skin as pale and smooth as a baby’s. His fingers flexed with an urgency to touch her that surprised him.

      Suddenly there was a rap against his window and he jumped. He jerked around to discover the woman in his daydream standing next to his car.

      He turned the key and hit the button to lower the glass. “Is there a problem, Ms. Kingsley?”

      “You know darn well there’s a problem, Mr. Sullivan. What are you doing here?”

      “I’m waiting…” He gave her the once-over. This morning, she had on worn jeans and a fitted blue shirt that brought out the color of her eyes. “And enjoying the scenery.” He folded his arms over his chest and tried out an intimidating glare.

      She ignored it. “You’re trespassing.” She peered into the interior of his car. Jack knew she was seeing the well-known coffee company’s cups that littered the floor, and last night’s dinner wrappers wadded up on the passenger seat. A total mess, and he didn’t look much better.

      “I beg to differ, Ms. Kingsley, I’m not on your property.”

      She huffed and marched back to the truck that was parked behind his SUV. Boy, he sure was slipping. He hadn’t even heard her drive up. Mike would rag on him for the rookie mistake. Jack expected Willow to drive off, but she didn’t, instead she made a call on her cell phone.

      When she was finished, she got out of her vehicle and came back to him. “For your information, Mr. Sullivan, I called the sheriff. Perhaps you’d rather leave now, before there’s trouble….”

      He wanted to show her his kind of trouble all right. She reminded him of Mary Ellen McGowan in fifth grade, who’d gotten pleasure from tattling on him. He shook his head. “You can’t dictate where I park.”

      “I can if you’re stalking me.”

      “Get over yourself Ms. Hollywood,” he growled. “Or how about telling me where your brother is hiding out.”

      Her nostrils flared. “My brother isn’t hiding anywhere. So just leave.”

      She was either the best liar, or she didn’t have a clue. “No, I’ll wait for the deputy.”

      She made that superior huffing sound again and began to pace. “Why are you so persistent?” She stopped and glared at him. “We already told you everything we know.”

      “I’m persistent because it’s important I find your brother…and soon. It’s my job.”

      Her gaze locked with his, and he felt a shudder rush through him. Damn. She was a pretty package. Luckily, he was immune to her type.

      “Could you at least tell me who wants to see Dean so badly?”

      “Will you tell me if you’ve been in touch with him in the past week?”

      “No, I haven’t been in touch with Dean.”

      Jack frowned.

      “It’s true,” she stressed. “Right after you left yesterday, I called his cell phone, but I only got his voice mail. Now, who’s looking for him?”

      “I’m not at liberty to say at this time.”

      She folded her arms over her breasts and glared.

      Before Jack could say anything more, the sheriff’s patrol car pulled up.

      “Now, you’re in trouble,” Willow said and marched over to the deputy who had just climbed out of the car. She motioned with her hands as she explained her take on the situation. Like the ranch foreman, the young deputy appeared enamored by Willow Kingsley, too.

      He approached Jack’s car. “Sir, would you please step out of the vehicle?”

      “Sure, Officer.” Jack opened the door and stood by the car.

      “May I see some ID?”

      “It’s in my pocket.” He hesitated, then with the deputy’s nod, he pulled out his badge holder and flipped it open to show his ID and driver’s license from the state of Washington.

      “I’m going to run this. Stay here.”

      “Fine.” Jack leaned against the car door and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Willow, so get used to it. Not until I speak to Dean. Right away if possible.”

      Just then the deputy returned. “Okay, no prior warrants.” He handed back Jack’s license.

      She dug her fists into her hips. “That’s it, Shawn?”

      “Sorry, Willow.” He glanced at Jack. “He’s not on private property. So he’s free to be here.”

      “He can’t stay parked out there,” Willow protested as she walked back and forth in front of the kitchen’s French doors the next morning. Her mother and Trevor were seated at the table for breakfast.