Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1)
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“Excuse the mess, I haven’t quite finished unpacking.” Some boxes lay open with items still in them.

“I don’t think you need to.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, Cassie?” Trent husked as he led her down the hallway.
 

“Oh, you’re an all right guy so far,” she teased as they entered the bathroom.

“Just all right?” His voice turned deep, his warm breath tickling the loose strands of hair from her ponytail.

Suddenly feeling a bit trapped in the tiny bathroom, she turned to face him, intending to ask for some privacy to clean up a little. Instead, she was almost struck mute at the unmistakable heat emanating from his eyes. “Um, maybe I should wash my leg first, get the dried blood and grit off?” Her voice came out like a squeak. She never
squeaked
. She had never felt this giddy kind of nervous with any guy, not even Wyatt.

Was his breathing heavier, too? He was shaking his head as if to wake up from a trance. “Why don’t you just take a shower?” he asked gruffly as he pulled a towel from the rack and handed it to her.
 

“That’s not necessary.”

“I’ll get you a shirt.”

Before Cassie could reply, Trent had walked out the door.

*****

Trent couldn’t get out of the bathroom fast enough. He took a couple of steps down the hallway before leaning against the wall and thumping his head back a couple of times. If he hadn’t gotten out of there when he did, he would have stripped her down and gotten into the shower with her. He knew he was playing with fire when he’d brought her home, but the pull of those warm, whiskey eyes were impossible to resist. He had never been this conflicted about a woman before.

He prowled to his room in this two-bedroom apartment. Trent didn’t need much space, because he hadn’t planned on staying long in Buckland County, but the thought of leaving now was digging a pit in his stomach. He was getting in too deep, too fast, and he had to throw on the brakes and think this through. He yanked a shirt from a pile of just-washed laundry and returned to the bathroom. She had closed the door and the sounds of the shower had started.

He swallowed hard and tamped down the image of Cassie naked in his shower. She was injured, for heaven’s sake.
Although not bad enough to silence that saucy mouth of hers it seems
, an inner voice argued in his head. He hung the shirt on the knob and retreated quickly to the kitchen to grab a beer. Just thinking of her pillowy lips made his dick jump at the idea of how it would feel wrapped around its girth.

Jesus.

The buzz of his phone thankfully interrupted the wayward trajectory of his thoughts. It was Brooks.

“Stone.”

“Sheriff, you wanted me to locate Deuce?”

“Have you found him?”

“No. According to Bowman’s office, they’re out of town. Bowman had a conference in North Carolina. They’ve been gone since yesterday. What’s this all about?”

Sounded too convenient.

“Cassie Reed got mowed down by a car.”

“Christ, is she all right?”

“A bit battered and bruised.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s with me. I want you to assign another deputy to patrol around the ranch. Can you have Betty pull up all the files we have on Montgomery Ranch, any reported troubles in the past five years.”

Silence.

“Brooks, you there?”

“Sheriff, shouldn’t you hand this over to Riley, our investigator?”

He really should, but for some reason, gut instinct told him to handle this himself. “Just do what you’re told, Brooks.”

As soon as Trent hung up, another number flashed on his phone. One he didn’t recognize.

“Stone.”

“Good afternoon, Sheriff. Wyatt Stratford here. May I talk to Cassie, please?”

“She’s unavailable at the moment.”

“But she’s with you?”

“Yes, she is.”

“I understand she wasn’t too far from the ranch when she was struck down. May I ask why you didn’t take her to the ranch?”

“Because I’m not sure who’s after her.”

“We’re capable of protecting her.”

“Are you certain, Stratford? Because from where I’m standing, you guys are doing a piss-poor job.”

“Now see here, Sheriff—”

“No. You listen to me, Stratford. There are things going on in your town that are bugging the shit out of me. I’m not saying you guys are doing anything illegal, but there appears to be blowback, and it’s getting someone hurt.”

“Your predecessor knew to mind his own business.”

“Oh yeah? Look where he is now.”

“It’s within your best interest to leave the town of Misty Grove alone. You and Bowman are in over your head.”

“Is that a threat, Stratford?”

“It is not.” The man sighed. “Even I know better to stay out of it. Ignorance is bliss, believe me. Knowledge could get you killed.”

His statement baffled Trent. Was Stratford saying even he didn’t know what was going on?
 

“Have Cassie call me when she can,” Stratford said after a beat.
 

The line went dead.

And Trent was left with more questions than ever.
 

*****

There was nothing more refreshing than having all the blood and grit washed off you. Cassie should know. She had done it too many times, both as an underground fighter and in her previous life. Wiping the fog off the mirror, she studied her reflection. The nasty bump on her temple had stopped bleeding. She propped her leg up on the closed toilet seat and studied the gashes on her leg.
Pfft
. She could have taken care of this herself back at the ranch. None of them were too deep as to require stitches, although a couple of them continued to bleed and might require some butterfly adhesives.

There was a light tap on the door.

She straightened, suddenly self-conscious as she gathered the towel tighter around her. “Come in.”

Trent opened the door, a shirt fisted in his hand. “I left this hanging on the door. I guess you didn’t check.”

“No, I didn’t,” Cassie replied sheepishly, taking the shirt from him and quickly pulling it over her head. It would certainly be easier to maneuver around in than wearing a towel.
 

Trent was busy rummaging through the drawers. “I have some antibiotic ointment and some bandages.” He glanced at her leg. “Looks like some of your cuts are deep.” He laid his chosen supplies near the sink, and before Cassie could tell him she could take care of the first aid herself, she found herself boosted with her ass planted on the counter separating the two sinks.

“You really need to stop hauling me around,” Cassie muttered as she watched Trent go down on his knees in front of her. He was so tall anyway, he was eye level with her boobs. He doused his hands with alcohol and caught her gaze for a moment before his warm hands lifted her injured leg to inspect the damage to it. Goose bumps raised on her skin as it welcomed his touch.
Whoa!
Raw sexuality radiated off him in such intimate proximity. When his fingers moved up her leg, unexpected tingles shot straight between her thighs. Her leg jerked.
 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, voice scratchy. He didn’t look at her, but he swallowed perceptibly.

“No. Just ticklish.” Her breathing turned ragged. The wetness between her legs was more than residual moisture from the shower. She had an urge to spread them wider and draw his dark head between them.
Oh, my God, I’m a slut.

“Some of these are nasty cuts, but at least they’re small and not jagged,” he continued, tearing open some butterfly bandages to apply to said wounds, unaware of the turmoil he was causing.

“That’s what happens when you land on gravel,” she croaked. The pulsing in her mound seemed to have replaced the stinging pain from her injuries.

When he was done with her leg, he stood up and fixed both hands on either side of her thighs, leaning in to study her head wound. “Looks like a sizable bump. Are you sure you didn’t black out?”

“Positive.”

“I hate that you got hurt,” he whispered. His eyes finally met hers, scorching her with their intensity.
 

“Me too.”
 

Mere inches separated their faces and the distance was getting smaller.

“Cassandra,” Trent said hoarsely. “I ... I’m sorry.”

Before she could figure out what he was apologizing for, his mouth came crashing down on hers. She opened beneath him and his tongue plunged hungrily inside. His arms came around her and almost lifted her off the counter. Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck as her bareness felt the bulge pushing against his uniform.
Oh, he is huge
! A hand cupped her bare ass and she heard him groan as he deepened the kiss. She rubbed herself shamelessly on his hardness, feeling his shaft hit her clit over and over as they continued to explore each other with their mouths and tongue. His calloused palm moved from her butt cheek down her leg, over her thigh, and inched upward tentatively.
Yes, touch me there please!

Trent tore away from her lips to nip vicious kisses up her jaw. “If I touch your pussy and find you wet, I won’t be able to stop.” Sensing the hesitation in her, he set her back on the counter and rested his forehead against hers. “Ah, Cassandra, what am I going to do with you?”

“Um, kiss me again?”

He grinned crookedly. “Not a good idea given your state of undress. I’ll be likely to fuck you right here on the counter.” Trent raised his head, his expression turning rueful. “I should have had more self-control.”

“Seriously?” That certainly killed the mood. “You’re a bag of mixed signals, Sheriff.”
 

She pushed away from him and he took a step back.

Cassie hopped off the counter and picked up her clothes, glaring at Trent. “What are you afraid of? You think just one kiss from you and I’m going to turn into a stage-5 clinger?”

“Of course not,” Trent snapped. “You’re under my care, and here I am mauling you.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” Cassie retorted.
 

“It’s not very professional.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite. You left professional back on the road where you found me, and you know it.”

Trent stared at his shoes, a muscle ticking his jaw, seemingly contemplating the events earlier. “I can’t seem to stay away from you,” he said finally.

“Well, bringing me to your apartment certainly wasn’t a bright idea then.”

“I just—” Trent broke off, as if trying to find the right words. Did he think he was going to break her heart? God, the ego of beautiful men. “I just need some time.”

This confused her. “What? Need some time for what?”

“To know what to do with you,” he repeated his earlier statement.

“I’m not following. Regarding who’s after me? I told you my brother and Wyatt can take care of me.”

Trent’s face darkened at this. “No. Dammit. I like you, Cassie, but past relationships taught me to be more careful about pursuing one, especially since you’re unlike the women I usually go for.”

His fingers stabbed through his hair in frustration. “Shit. That didn’t come out right.”

But Cassie was pretty good at reading between the lines. And what was between the lines was she just wasn’t his type. Normally, she’d just shrug it off and walk away, but a fire had been lit under a hated emotion. Insecurity.
 

“Are my boobs not big enough or am I not blonde enough like Nurse Pia?”

“I’ve never—”

“Or am I too argumentative? Too stubborn?” A slight shift in his eyes told her she’d hit the spot. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m not prim and proper. You like them sugary and sweet.” She landed two thumps on his chest. “Well, I can tell you that’s not what you’re getting from me.”

“I didn’t think so,” he muttered.

Another point he made dawned on her. “And why are you talking about relationships? Haven’t you ever heard of casual sex, Trent?”

He scowled at her. “That isn’t what I want it to be.”

“You’re a handsome man, I’ll give you that. But one thing you didn’t factor into your thoughts is if I’m up for more than a casual hookup with you. I’m not.”

“My mistake then,” he replied stiffly, a ruddy color stealing up his neck. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. “Wyatt called. You might want to call him back.”

So now Trent wanted her gone. She felt a twinge in her gut, but she knew it was the best recourse to stay away from this man.
 

CHAPTER SIX

Cassie landed a solid punch to her twin’s solar plexus. She followed this up with a right hook when Lucas hunched over. As he staggered to the side, she leaped into the air and threw a roundhouse kick, sending her brother to the mat.

“Hell yeah!” Clapping and hooting erupted from all corners.
 

Lucas rolled to his knees and shook his head. They had their headgear on so, thankfully, no damage.

Her brother took off his mouth guard, glowing pride reflecting in his eyes. “Damn, sis, where is all this aggression coming from?”

She extended her hand to help him up.
 

Wyatt joined them in the boxing ring. The other spectators—other fighter trainees and mechanics from the adjoining garage—returned to what they were doing.

“I guess a few hours with the sheriff did you good after all,” their manager said.
 

Cassie yanked off her mouth guard. “Oh, fuck off, Wyatt.” She stomped out of the ring. A shower to cool off was what she needed, not a reminder of what had happened four days ago. She heard her twin light into Wyatt. Trust Lucas to always have her back even if he had his reservations on why Cassie allowed herself to be carted off to Trent’s apartment. It wasn’t like her to be bulldozed into anything without a threat to their security in this town.
 

Trent didn’t exactly reject her, but it certainly felt that way. Despite how their discussion had gone down, he remained gentlemanly enough to take her home, or maybe he felt guilty. Even when she told him Wyatt was on his way to pick her up, Trent was unbending in his insistence to see her back to the ranch. This ended with Wyatt following them in his car.

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