The Hunk Next Door (13 page)

But Riley knew for certain that evil was sometimes the last suspect on the list.

Chapter Nine

The comfortable silence on the drive home soothed Abby, offering a blissful relief after the noise of the firefighters, the concerns of her officers and the erratic ramblings of Filmore. She hoped the search warrant turned up something conclusive and useful. As much as she hated the idea that Martin Filmore had fooled her all these years, it would be news to celebrate and reassure her town, as well as the tourists they hoped would come out for the weekend.

As a police officer, and now as a chief, nothing felt worse than knowing the community questioned their general safety. Sure, life involved some measure of risk, but when people doubted the ability of their law enforcement, things had a tendency to spiral out of control.

“Want to talk about it?”

She looked across the seat to her new neighbor who’d made himself her chauffeur for the evening. “I’d rather not.”

“If that changes, you know where to find me.”

Did she ever. Last night had been bad enough with images of him following her into sleep and all through her dreams. Had she ever been so infatuated? Not as an adult.

Waking with Riley O’Brien on her mind had been a delicious start to the day. She could tell from the way her pulse skipped and danced when she saw him that the situation wasn’t likely to resolve anytime soon. Not without some sort of acknowledgment or action. But this was the worst time to entertain the idea of a new relationship or even friends with benefits.

When he pulled into the driveway, Abby tried to summon the strength to get out of the car. She wanted a shower first to get the smoke out of her hair, then a long soak in a bubble bath. She might leave her coat on the rail outside the kitchen door so it could air out. Mr. Filmore had attacked her police station. Specifically her office. She didn’t need spray paint and graffiti to understand the significance and potential deadly consequences.

At least he’d failed on that count, she thought as another wave of relief washed over her. No one had been injured. That was one positive point in this mess.

But something had pushed Filmore to act against what he held most dear and set fire to a piece of history. Hopefully, the interrogation and search would provide a solid direction. Her gut said Filmore was simply a cog in a wheel, but if that was true, who was calling the shots? Who had the leverage to push Filmore over the edge?

It seemed impossible that she was considering people she had known for years.

What she needed was a better lead, but neither the evidence nor her instincts were cooperating at the moment.

“Hey.” Riley snagged her attention with a soft tap on her shoulder. “Are you the fake or real type?”

With all that had happened, somehow the question grated on her last nerve. She glared at him. “What kind of question is that?”

He leaned back, lifting his hand from her shoulder. “Ease up, Abby. I was referring to Christmas trees.”

“Oh!” She wanted to laugh and shake free of the constant edginess plaguing her, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. “I have a fake one in the attic that I’ll pull down when I get a chance. The idea of wandering through a Christmas tree lot...” Her voice trailed off.

“You’ve received threats about shopping for Christmas trees?”

She reached for the door handle, immediately regretting the careless words. Overtired, she wouldn’t be any good to anyone. Based on the muttering, Riley was offended by the idea of that kind of threat. “Not exactly.” She shouldn’t tell him anything and yet she suddenly wanted to talk about all of it. She wanted to unburden herself, even if he was basically a stranger.

Maybe
because
he was a stranger. He wouldn’t have any preconceived notions about what should and shouldn’t bother her.

There had been ridiculous, silly threats that were obviously from lunatics piling on to her sudden notoriety. And there had been the more direct threats from people who either knew firsthand or had researched Belclare’s annual traditions. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No? I think I’d disagree if you told me the truth.”

She forced her lips into a reassuring smile. “It was a silly one,” she managed. Why could she be so strong for the people in her department and hold her ground with the likes of Mayor Scott and Mr. Filmore but not with Riley?

With Riley she was too ready to confess her weaknesses and worries. Though she wouldn’t change a thing about her decisions, she had the irrational urge to discuss those decisions with him. He triggered some tiny, long-forgotten part of her that trusted people. The part of her she’d shut down in favor of navigating the boys’ club that was law enforcement. Taking over as chief in Belclare had been a step up the career ladder, but the welcoming people here had given her a significant measure of relief, as well. Her officers and support staff served Belclare with pride, accepting her easily enough. That didn’t mean she burdened them with the thoughts or concerns that fell on her shoulders.

Until the drug bust, she hadn’t needed to. Her role as police chief came with a burden of responsibility that she carried willingly and easily. Previously, the most serious crime in Belclare had been the occasional petty theft or bar fight. She wouldn’t allow that reputation for safety to change. Not on her watch and especially not during the tourist season that buoyed the town from year to year.

Riley had been kind and supportive, but she would do well to remember she didn’t really know him.

“You’re thinking too deeply again.”

She blinked. He was in front of her—he had, in fact, left the driver’s seat and come around to open her door while her mind had been skipping around. She glanced at the empty driver’s seat and back to where he stood now.

“Come on.” He held out a hand to help her. “I’ll walk you in.”

Did he think she’d get lost between the drive and the door? Was he worried she’d turn into his kitchen rather than her own? Now, that was a tempting thought. She put her hand in his, knowing before they touched that his skin would be warm, his palm rough from work. “I was going to tell you.” She just hadn’t decided if she’d tell him her professional troubles or her intimate, personal desires.

“So tell me.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, encouraging her to move, but she stayed in the seat.

The view was striking, the moment weighted with significance as her heart pounded in her chest. Surely he could hear it, too. She reached out, wiping away the smudge of soot near his hairline. Filled with need and raw awareness, she wanted to simultaneously rush forward and stop time as she leaned close and pressed her lips to his.

He didn’t respond. His hand, fingers warm around hers, didn’t even twitch.

Stupid. Idiot.
The internal reprimand continued as she pulled back, searching for the right words. There had to be some lighthearted phrase that could explain away her unwelcome blunder into his personal space. She might have to move. Out of the neighborhood. She’d go find a hotel if he’d just let her go.

Hysterical laughter bubbled in her chest, but she smothered it. This kiss might just succeed where all of the criminal threats and fallout from the drug bust had failed. The impetuous kiss might drive her right out of Belclare. “Excuse me.” She didn’t know where to go. He remained rooted in place, blocking the logical way out of the truck.

She tried to decide if she could slide across the bench seat and out the driver’s door and still maintain her dignity. Of course her dignity had taken flight during that brief one-sided kiss. She’d misinterpreted his kindness as a reflection of her attraction. How...totally stupid. She was too weary to come up with a better word. Good grief, she was a fool. How had her intuition failed her so badly?

Why didn’t he say anything? She frowned at their joined hands. Why wouldn’t he let go of her?

“Excuse me,” she repeated, shocked that it was even possible for her to feel increasingly humiliated with every passing second. She shifted, trying to scoot away from that strange, bewildered expression on his face. Trying to escape the mortifying moment.

“Wait.” The single word he uttered sounded strained.

She froze, too embarrassed to look at him.

“Abby.”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“You surprised me.”

“Okay. Sorry.” She winced as the apology tumbled from her lips. This wasn’t like her. None of this was like her. “Thanks for your help. Have a nice—”

She gasped as he tugged her back to the edge of the seat. He pulled her knees to either side of his trim hips and linked his hands at the small of her back. His breath fanned softly against her skin, mingling with her own as he leaned close enough that his lips were on hers. Light at first, then a claiming that sent her pulse into overdrive.

Her hands fisted in the front of his vest and she hung on for dear life. The kiss spun out, sweeping her away as his tongue stroked into her mouth. She tasted the smoky air, the lingering pepper of the fries and the unique flavor of him. She wrapped her legs around him, her heart racing. Relief and desire were a heady mix as the embarrassment of moments ago was blasted away by this passionate flare.

“You surprised me,” he repeated, this time against her cheek.

“Remind me to do it more often,” she said, nipping gentzly at his jaw. “You have an interesting response.”

He chuckled, pulling her close enough to feel his arousal. His brown eyes glinted in the weak light cast by the lamp in the cab.

“Oh.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “Anyone might see us out here.” Obviously she’d lost all of her powers of common sense when it came to Riley O’Brien.

“So come inside with me.” His wide palms cruised up and down her back, his fingers sliding under the clasp of her bra. “I have cookies.”

“I can’t do that,” she replied, though she’d be hard-pressed to come up with a logical excuse right this second.

“Then your place. We’ll skip the cookies.”

She laughed. “No. Not there, either.”

He kissed her again and she nearly relented. “All right.” He reached up and flicked the switch, plunging the truck into darkness. “It’s a challenge, but I can make it work here.”

She should’ve found that offensive, but all she could do was laugh. She couldn’t remember anyone in her past who made her laugh, who made her feel as lighthearted as Riley did. “You really don’t waste time.”

His mouth was warm and tender as he trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear. “You knew that,” he murmured.

She let the words shiver through her, let her head fall back, granting him full access to her throat. A warm feeling bloomed in her chest, something more than the passion he stoked with his sensual touches. Yes, she did know that about him. At the moment, she appreciated it.

Not enough people were willing to be so honest about what they wanted. He wanted her—the physical evidence was clear on that. She wanted him, too, but she couldn’t bring herself to satisfy this rush of lust in his truck in full view of her neighbors or the patrol car assigned to the neighborhood. Mayor Scott would have a field day using a public indecency ticket against her in the next town council meeting.

She pushed at his shoulders. “Hey, are you trying to kill my career?”

“What?”

“There’s a morality clause in my contract.” He fluttered kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck and she giggled. “Stop.” She pushed at him again, taking every millimeter of space he reluctantly gave her to gather herself. “Seriously. Stop.”

“I have to?”

“Yes. For the moment.”

He grumbled but eased back. The cold air was bracing, but it wouldn’t cool down the all-consuming heat she felt deep inside. That unquenchable fire could only be satisfied by the man in front of her.

“I’m not teasing you,” she said, wanting to be as direct and clear as he’d been with her.

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t say you were.”

“Good. I just, um, wanted to get that out in the open. I,
ah
—” she pushed at her hair “—want this to happen. Just not tonight. Not out here.”

“I’m all for a warmer venue.” He put his hands to her waist and boosted her out of the truck, letting her body slide down his in a slow, delicious caress. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

He nearly destroyed her resolve with that smoldering gaze and hot, strong body so ready for her. “You’re a walking temptation,” she accused.

“Same goes.” He paused, one boot on the bottom step, his hand catching her coat sleeve. “I’m right next door.”

She felt her lips curve. “Trust me, I’m aware.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone tonight.”

“There are certain disadvantages,” she said, dragging a fingertip along the rough stubble of his jaw. “But I’ll manage.”

He cupped her palm to his lips. “Lock your doors.”

She almost gave in. “You, too.” But he didn’t let her go at that.

* * *

R
ILEY STARED INTO
those wide blue eyes, his blood running hot, but it wasn’t all about those kisses. He was furious about the fire and more than a little concerned about the evidence on the shovel. The more he thought about it, the more likely he decided it had been an attempt on her life—at the very least on her freedom.

It was hard to believe Filmore had taken that leap on his own. Was one person planning all of these stunts? Or were they up against more than one threat? And how long before this nebulous enemy tried again?

The smart thing was to take a step back and be clear about the situation, despite what his body wanted. This was a razor’s edge he was dancing on and he didn’t want to ever give her cause to doubt him or his motives toward her.

He didn’t expect to be drawn so strongly to Abby on a personal level, but she captivated him. From her consistent strength and determination through the adversity to her passionate kisses.

“How will emergencies get handled tonight?” With the police station closed, it was the perfect opportunity for someone to strike. His gaze roamed the shadows, searching for threats.

“Everything’s handled, Riley. I’ll be fine.”