Authors: Rhyannon Byrd
“You own this place?” Kellan asked.
She nodded. “Along with my aunt. We’re partners.”
“I meant in Purity,” Riley persisted, interrupting them for the second time. “What are you doing in Washington?”
He could see her calculating how much to tell him, and how much to keep to herself. Finally, she said, “Millie had a friend who left her this land after she died from breast cancer. I went in with her, and we converted part of the house into a café.”
As he looked around, there was a belligerent bite to his words as he said, “And where’s your husband?
Work?” He’d noticed she didn’t have on a wedding ring, but knew that wasn’t unusual for people who worked in restaurant kitchens.
A bitter sound that wasn’t quite a laugh caught in her throat, and she lifted one soft, feminine-looking hand to push her hair back from her face. Though some of her angry flush had begun to fade, her skin still glowed with a healthy, fresh-faced vitality, the rosy color in her mouth and cheeks completely natural. “Try the state penitentiary in North Carolina.”
He stared, thinking he
had
to have heard her wrong. “What the hell does
that
mean?”
“Watch it,” she warned him, suddenly bristling again at his tone. “This is my place, Riley. Not yours. You have no right to come in here barking at me.”
“State penitentiary?” he echoed, struggling to wrap his mind around the jarring idea. It didn’t fit. Not in the rose-colored, white-picket-fenced life he’d always envisioned for this woman. She had to be jacking him around, screwing with his mind. “Are you seriously telling me that the guy you married is in prison?” he rasped out of a dry throat.
She gave a low, tired-sounding laugh. “Yeah, you know. Nasty places where they lock up creeps and keep ’em there. Don’t they have prisons where you live?”
He kept staring, trying to read behind her closed expression and forced sarcasm, but her walls were too thick, blocking him out. “What exactly did he do?”
“What does it matter?” she asked, shrugging one
slender shoulder. The sweater slipped a little, revealing smooth, pale skin along with a slender bra strap, and his muscles tightened in reaction. “We’re divorced now. He’s no longer my problem.”
His eyes started to burn, but he just kept staring, trying to make sense of what she’d said. It was as if the words wouldn’t compute in his head. Divorced? Oh, God, that wasn’t good. Was even worse than her being married. Being divorced meant that she was…
No way. Whatever you do, do not follow that train of thought. She’s still off-limits.
Right, right. Of course she was. Hell, even if she wasn’t married, there had to be a serious boyfriend. And even if there wasn’t, Riley couldn’t touch her. Not with the rain of chaos he’d bring down on her head.
“So you’re single?” Kellan murmured, breaking the awkward silence that had settled in the fragrant room like a fourth presence.
“This is your last warning, Scott,” he barked, cutting her off before she could give a response, not wanting to hear it. “Don’t even think about her that way.”
“You can snarl orders at me all day long, Ri, but I’m afraid my mind is a powerful thing,” the Watchman replied, lifting the dark slash of his brows, a cocky tilt to his mouth. “Has a will of its own, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, well, get a grip on it, or it’s going to have my fist shoved up its—”
“Okay, okay. I get it.” Kellan laughed, holding up his hands. “She’s off-limits. Same as Millie.”
Hope’s golden eyes went wide. “My aunt is off-limits?” she asked, sounding fascinated.
The Watchman grinned. “’Fraid so, sweetheart.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, and Riley could tell that she was trying to hold back one of her infectious smiles. Like the ones that had brightened up his miserable adolescence. Made him feel like a god whenever she’d looked at him with that soft, sensual curving of her lips. “How sad. She’ll be crushed to hear it.”
“I’m feeling pretty crushed right now myself,” Kellan said in a low, teasing rumble. “Riley’s ready to kill me for even talking to you.”
“Exactly how do you two know each other?” she asked, her curiosity so thick he could feel it.
Riley’s common sense told him to turn around and get the hell out of there, but he couldn’t move. Whether he stayed or left, Hope was now in danger. The cross had to be unearthed, before it fell into the wrong hands—and he was too much of a realist to hope they wouldn’t be followed to the town. They’d done their best to cover their tracks, but it wouldn’t stop the Casus and their psychopathic buddies from finding them…and fast. Riley knew all about how a Casus could tune in to the Merrick and know exactly where they were, as if the demonic creatures carried some kind of metaphysical tracking device. And now that they knew he’d come to Purity, it didn’t take a genius to realize they’d think he was there to find the third Marker. Hell, even if there were some way he could mask his presence—which he
knew damn well there wasn’t—with a little searching, they’d learn that he’d asked about this property…and the trail would lead them right to Hope.
With the Marker buried on her land, Hope was going to be caught in the crossfire whether he was there or not. Which meant that until the Dark Marker was found, she needed protection, and he was more than qualified for the job. And yet the last place in the world he needed to be was this close to her. He didn’t even know her anymore, but the girl she’d been was too wrapped up in the woman she’d become, and it was messing with his head. God, he could still remember the taste of her mouth. The softness of her skin. The way her eyes went heavy when he touched her.
Don’t go there. Bad road, man. Just step back and get it together.
“Well?” she asked. “Is it some dark, juicy secret?”
Kellan seemed to have found his brain for once, and remained blessedly silent until Riley finally said, “How we know each other isn’t important.”
“Whatever,” she breathed out, quickly losing her patience, her anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “So are you going to tell me what you’re doing here in Purity? Or is it another dark, dirty secret?”
He drew in a deep breath, studying her guarded expression, while his mind worked, searching for a way to explain. But he was too fogged up with lust. Anger. Frustration. “Were you in town earlier?” he suddenly asked, his voice a quiet, gritty rumble.
He could see her confusion as she nodded. “I had to run in for some more milk. Why?”
He shook his head, knowing that it
had
been her scent he’d picked up while on Main Street. Scrubbing his hands down his face, Riley wondered how he was going to say what needed to be said. God, he didn’t even know where to start. “Look, I know this is…” He faltered, searching for the words. “Awkward as hell,” he finally growled through his clenched teeth, “but we need access to your land. Out in the forest. We were hoping to talk to the owner here about renting one of the cabins, so that we could search for something out in the woods.”
What are you saying? You can’t stay here now…. Are you crazy?
“Search for what?” she asked, interrupting the argument in his head, her gaze moving suspiciously between him and Kellan.
Riley closed his eyes. Tried to think. “You remember Saige?” he said, scraping one hand back through his hair as he lifted his lashes. “Well, she thinks there’s something buried out there. A family heirloom of sorts, and we’ve come to find it for her.”
She looked at Kellan. “Is he serious?”
The Watchman nodded, and Riley cleared his throat, saying, “I know it sounds strange, Hope. But this is important.”
“Why?” she asked, her mouth flat as her gaze found his again.
Because my life is falling apart. Because if we don’t find it, something else will. Something that could hurt you, just to get to me.
Instead of muttering the pathetic, melodramatic words, he simply said, “You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
“Not likely.” She laughed, tightening her crossed arms over her chest, the position doing interesting things to the shadow of cleavage revealed by the V-neck cut of the sweater. “This is mine and Millie’s land, Riley. You’re not going to just dig it up without telling us what’s going on.”
Obviously trying to help, Kellan lifted his shoulders and said, “It’s not an easy kind of thing to explain.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Try.”
“Damn it,” Riley snapped. “Suffice it to say that there are lives at stake. And that’s all you need to know at this point.”
“Lives?” Her brows drew together, her expression a blend of frustration and wary disbelief. “Whose?”
He silently cursed, painfully aware that he was botching the explanation with every friggin’ word that came out of his mouth. “I don’t have time to go in to details, and you’re better off not knowing them. But we’re not the only ones who want what’s out there. Because of that, people are in danger.”
She gave him a baffled look. “And it’s your job to protect them?”
“Actually, it is,” Riley explained with a hard sigh,
pinching the bridge of his nose, while a hell of a headache started knocking around inside his skull.
“Wow, that’s some pretty serious responsibility,” she said, lifting her brows. “Did you suddenly become God in the past thirteen years?”
Kellan snuffled another laugh under his breath, while Riley just ground his jaw. “I’m a sheriff,” he muttered. “In Colorado. That’s where I live.”
“Huh,” she breathed out. “Well, I guess that would explain the gun.”
He paused, realizing she must have seen his Beretta in the holster beneath his jacket. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he said, “I know there’s a helluva history between us, Hope, but my family’s safety is on the line. If it wasn’t, you can damn well bet that I’d already be out of here and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Another low, bitter laugh left her lips and she turned her head, staring through a long, narrow window at the distant storm rolling in over the ocean. “Are your mother and Saige in danger?” she asked after a moment, her voice quiet…controlled. “I never really knew Ian, but I always liked your mom and your sister.”
“Saige is involved, but Elaina…she passed away at the beginning of the year.”
He could see her shoulders stiffen with surprise, though she still didn’t look toward him. “I’m sorry about your mom.” She drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “And even though I know I should tell
you to get lost, my stupid curiosity seems to be getting the better of me, because I’m dying to know what you’re really doing here. The cabins are all empty right now because we were getting ready to do some redecorating, so if you want, I’m willing to let you rent one.”
“Thanks,” he rasped, while inside there was a voice shouting,
Idiot! Fool! Jackass!
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, snagging his gaze. “I still haven’t told you how much I’m planning to charge you for your stay.”
“Something tells me that we won’t be getting the going rate,” Kellan offered wryly, sounding as if he still thought the entire situation was hilarious.
She lifted one hand, rubbing at her forehead as if she were in pain. “We’ll hash out the rental agreement when you come back.”
“Come back?” Riley echoed.
She gestured toward the door he assumed led to the kitchen. “I was right in the middle of getting prepped for lunch. I need to finish and—”
“Probably bake some more pies,” Kellan cut in with a lazy drawl.
The corner of her mouth twitched, though she didn’t quite smile. “That, too. I can get the paperwork together for the cabin and show you out to it later this afternoon. They all sit on the trail that leads out from the back garden, winding its way through the forest, so you’ll have plenty of privacy for whatever it is you’re going to be doing out there.”
Riley watched her from beneath his lashes, wanting to argue that they needed the cabin now, but knew that putting some space between them for a while was a good idea. Maybe, if he got lucky, she’d panic and leave town. Which was exactly what he wanted.
Yeah, sure it is.
Ignoring the words, he said, “We’ll be back around three, then.”
“Fine,” she sighed, and turning, she headed through the swinging kitchen door.
“Hope,” he called out.
“Yeah?” she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder, one hand holding the door pressed open. He stared at the thick, glossy sheet of her hair for a moment, having never seen it so long. The tips curved against the base of her spine, the sight unbearably erotic, even though she was hardly dressed for seduction.
Her voice snapped with impatience. “What is it, Riley?”
“If anyone asks, you don’t know me. You only—” he gestured with his head toward the front of the café “—reacted like that because you thought I was someone else. Understood?”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
He locked his jaw, knowing she didn’t have a clue how important this was, wishing like hell that he’d never set foot in Purity. “I mean it, Hope.”
“I heard you the first time, Sheriff Buchanan.” She held his stare, then slowly shook her head. “Let’s be
honest. It won’t be such a lie, because I never really knew you to begin with.”