The Sheriff's Surrender (20 page)

“I seem to have a knack for making things go wrong,” she remarked with a feeble smile.

“You have a knack for pissing off the bad guys—which means you're doing your job right.”

“Doing it right isn't such a great thing. It's cost me way too much.”

Instinctively he knew she was talking about him. It said something for her that she could regret that after all he'd put her through. “You couldn't do it any other way. It's not who you are.” After a moment of watching her watch the rain, he impulsively said, “Let's go somewhere.”

“Don't you have to work?”

“I'm already four hours late. I'll call in.”

“Where would we go?”

“Tulsa. Have lunch. See a movie. Go to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Her smile started weakly but turned into pure delight. “I haven't been to the zoo in years. But…are you sure it's safe?”

“You have no ties to Tulsa. Neither does Eddie Forbes. And Mohawk Zoo isn't the sort of place drug dealers and hit men hang out. But if you'd feel more comfortable, we can catch a movie. We'll sit in the darkest corner where no one can come up behind us, and we can neck in the boring parts.” Or they could skip the movie, the zoo and Tulsa altogether and go straight to the necking. He couldn't think of a better way to spend a cool, rainy June day than naked in bed with Neely.

“Sounds wonderful,” she agreed.

He ushered her inside, called his office and listened to the dispatcher's complaints about his no-show, answering his phone and personal responsibility before he finally got Brady on the phone. Reese gave him the vaguest of explanations, then took a quick shower and dressed.

They were at the garage door, ready to walk out, when Neely asked, “Aren't you forgetting something?”

His wallet was in his hip pocket, along with his sheriff's commission, his pistol was tucked under his shirt at the small of his back, his keys were in his left hand and his cell phone was in the right. “I don't think so.”

She pointed downward and, when his gaze followed, wiggled her toes. “I admit, I've never been to Tulsa, but I understand most people there wear shoes.”

He got a pair of thick-soled sandals for her, watched while she somehow managed to gracefully put them on with nothing more than the wall for support, then followed her to his truck.

“You're lucky you didn't kill yourself or someone else driving home last night,” she remarked as he backed out of the garage.

“I didn't drive. I called two of my deputies. One drove me home in my truck and the other followed in his car so my driver would have a ride back to the station.”

“Good, because driving in your condition would have been just plain stupid.”

“But leaving you alone all evening was none too bright.”

“I'm as safe alone at night as I am during the day.”

“Actually, I was thinking about your…willingness last night and where it could have led if I'd been sober.”

“If you'd been sober, you probably wouldn't even have started it.”

He glanced at her, sitting with her hands folded primly in her lap. In her pastel summer dress, she looked like a water-color painting come to life—beautiful, soft, exquisite. Just looking at her made his chest tighten and a lump form in his throat.

Directing his gaze back to the street, he murmured, “If I'd been sober, darlin', I would have started it…and I damn well would have finished it.

“Eventually.”

She gave him a measuring look, but said nothing. When she did finally speak, she turned the conversation to nothing important—music, movies, food. He already knew she liked rock and jazz, comedies and love stories with happy endings, Mexican food and thick, juicy rare steaks, while he preferred country music, adventure movies and…well, thick, juicy rare steaks. He knew her better than anyone else in his life. In one short year, she'd become the better part of him.

And yet she doubted whether he'd ever really loved her.

“Oklahoma's a pretty place,” she remarked as they crossed Lake Keystone. “I like all the trees and hills.”

“So do I. It's a good place to live. A good place to raise a family.”

“Your father seems to agree. He's anxious for grandkids.”

Reese grinned. “He's spent half my life extolling the virtues of birth control and safe sex. Now, suddenly, his ‘grandfather' clock is ticking, and he can't wait for me to throw the condoms in the trash.”

“So why are you making him wait? He's not getting any younger, you know.”

“You don't have kids with just anyone.” Not all women were mother material. He and Lena were living proof of that.
Of course, he was fully capable of raising a child alone, but having grown up without a mother himself, he'd rather not put his own child through that.

“So you're being terribly romantic and conventional by looking for that special someone you can fall in love with,” she teased.

A flush heated his face. “All my kids are going to have the same mother—one who lives in the same house with us and gets them up in the morning and tucks them in bed with kisses at night. That means I'm getting married only once. And that means I've got to get it right the first time.”

But he'd already blown the first time. As Shay had pointed out, second chances didn't come along every day. He had to get it right this time.

Or he would regret it forever.

 

Neely had had far more sophisticated outings—fabulous food in legendary restaurants, cream-of-the-social-crop fund-raisers, evenings at the symphony, the ballet, the theater—but she had never enjoyed any of them as much as she enjoyed her afternoon in Tulsa.

For lunch Reese had introduced her to the best burgers in town, and they'd agreed on an adventure for their movie. True to his word, they'd sat in the darkest corner of the stadium-style theater.

But there weren't any boring parts in the movie to neck through. Darn.

Now, as the lights came up in the cavernous room, she stretched. “I really needed this—to just feel normal for a while.”

Reese gave her a lazy, relaxed look, as if he'd needed it, too. “Once this is over and Jace has Forbes locked away, you'll wonder how in hell you're going to adjust to things being normal all the time—at least, until the next time.”

When he stood, so did she, but she let him go down the stairs first. “There won't be a next time. I told you, I'm getting out of the lawyering business.”

“And what will you do instead?”

“I don't know. I could go someplace that has Medieval fairs and be a kissing wench.” When he snorted, she slapped his shoulder. “It's a real job. I knew a girl in college who did it during the summer. Or I could sell real estate. Misrepresenting property can't be too different from misrepresenting people, except the properties don't get hurt. Or maybe I'll start a family and be a full-time mom.”

He stopped so abruptly that she ran into him, then stumbled back. She was about to sit on the steps—hard, she feared—when he caught a handful of her dress and hauled her upright again. “And just where do you expect to find the father for these kids?”

She smiled sweetly and pretended innocence. “You can't have kids with just anyone, you know…though I've always thought baby boys with Jace's black hair and big dark eyes would be so adorable.”

Scowling at her, Reese muttered, “If I thought for a moment you were serious…”

“Yes?”

The scowl faded and turned into his smuggest grin. What should have been arrogant and cocky was, instead, charming and sexy as hell. “But I don't. Come on.”

They left the theater by the side exit, stepping out of air-conditioned comfort into a literal steam bath. The rain had stopped, leaving puddles here and there and little wisps of steam rising from the sun-baked parking lot. Neely caught her breath as every pore on her body gasped at the temperature change. “This is a good day for lying naked beside a pool or under an air-conditioning vent on full-blast.”

“Damn. I knew I should have gone ahead and had the pool put in before the construction was finished.”

Smiling up at him, she fumbled in her purse for her sunglasses. Just as they reached the curb, she found them and started to put them on while waiting for a car to pass. The driver, slowing for a speed bump, looked at her, then did a double take—brows raised, eyes big, mouth opened wide—
that would have been comical if it hadn't been so damned serious.

An impatient driver honked, and the man looked behind him, then drove on, but he didn't go far—only to the next row of parked cars. As he turned onto that row, she fumbled blindly for Reese at her side, clutching his arm, managing little more than a frightened whisper. “That man! Reese, I think that man—”

She hit the hot sidewalk with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs and to tear raw patches on her palms and knees. As shots sounded—innocuous little sounds for something so potentially deadly—she realized Reese had pushed her down, and in the direction of a concrete planter filled with dirt. She crawled in that direction, ignoring the sting from her scrapes, not bothering to look behind her to check on him, since his hand was at her waist, hurrying her along.

When she reached the security of the planter, she glanced around. Reese was directly behind her, his body pressing her close to the concrete. Farther back, other movie patrons were screaming, seeking their own cover. She saw two on cell phones—calling the police, she hoped. Probably the local news hotline, she figured.

“Are you okay?” Reese demanded.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah. You know that guy?”

“Never saw him before.” She cringed as the man opened fire on the planter with what surely must be a semiautomatic weapon. Mouthing the best prayer she was capable of at the moment, she made herself as small as possible and held tightly to Reese's arm where it circled her. She didn't want to die, but God help her, she didn't want anyone else to die because of her, especially Reese.
Please, please, please…

Dirt and bits of concrete and leaf rained down on them as the last spray of gunfire ended. A car door slammed, then tires screeched as the man sped away. For an instant everything seemed unnaturally quiet, though from somewhere nearby Neely could hear soft crying and vicious cursing. She couldn't
decide whether she wanted to join in on one or the other, or whether she should stand and apologize to everyone for bringing such violence into their lazy afternoon. But with Reese wedging her into the tiniest of spaces, she couldn't do anything but tremble and think, with great sorrow, how close she'd come to causing another innocent person's death.

In the distance came the sound of a siren, joined almost immediately by a second, then a third. They spurred Reese into action. Standing, he extended his left hand and pulled her to her feet. His expression was harsh, unforgiving, and his words were clipped. “Let's get out of here.”

“But the police—”

He slid his arm around her waist and propelled her along—across the traffic lanes, into the parking lot, on a rushed, weaving journey to his truck. When she would have pulled loose to get in on the passenger side, he held her tighter. “You're gonna have to drive.”

“But, Reese—” Her gaze dropped from his face to the stain spreading across the right shoulder of his T-shirt, turning the dark fabric a few shades deeper. When she touched it, her fingers came away wet with blood and her stomach heaved violently.

As she swayed, he gave her a shake. “Help me into the truck and get me back to Heartbreak, okay?”

“Oh, my God… Oh, my God, Reese, you've been…”

He shook her again. “Suck it up, Neely. I'm not going to die. You didn't, did you? Now get us out of here.”

She dug into his jeans' pocket for the keys, unlocked the door and helped him climb inside, then ran to the driver's side. The sirens were closer now, enough of them to make her quake inside and out. She got out of the parking lot in record time and said a prayer of thanks for the snarl of traffic at the intersection behind them that had slowed the police's arrival.

At the first stoplight, she adjusted the seat and mirrors, leaned across and fastened Reese's seat belt, then did the same with her own. “Where's the nearest hospital?”

He didn't even lift his head. “No hospital. Heartbreak.”

“Reese, you've been shot!”

“You think I don't know it?”

“You need a doctor! You need to go to the emergency room!”

“If I go to the hospital, they're gonna report it to the police. They'll make reports, and the media will get hold of them. It'll be too damn easy for Forbes's man to get my name and address. Too damn easy for him to not miss you next time.”

Of course he was right. But she knew from experience that he was in great pain, and the bleeding didn't seem to be slowing yet. If the bullet was still in his shoulder, he would need surgery. Even if it had exited, he still needed immediate medical attention.

“You can give a fake name,” she said stubbornly. “So can I. We can lie about everything—”

“Damn it, Neely, take me to Heartbreak!” Shouting at her left him drained and pale. He was angry, and she couldn't blame him. She'd almost gotten him killed, all because she'd been a little down and wanted to do something besides hide in his house. Obviously, he blamed her—and how could he not? She blamed herself.

“I don't know how to get back to Heartbreak,” she said in a small voice, feeling guilty that she hadn't paid more attention on the drive over.

“We'll take the long way—make certain no one's following.” He did look up then, and gestured. “Turn right here and get on the expressway.”

She followed his directions from expressway to turnpike to highway until they reached the small town of Sapulpa. There she turned into the parking lot of the first grocery store they came to. Reese glared at her, but she pretended not to notice. “You need a bandage on that.”