Wyatt's Stand (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 2) (22 page)

He looked at Austen, who nodded and shifted her gaze to the doctor. “We’re both staying.”

Piper stopped in the act of putting a lid on her vanilla latte and frowned as she looked out the café’s front windows. The wail of the sirens coming down Main Street grew louder, and seconds later, two more patrol cars zipped past. The fifth and sixth ones she’d seen go by since she’d entered the café a few minutes ago. Whatever was going on, it had to be bad.

Hurrying out the door, she climbed in her car and drove to the Miller place, careful to take the turns slow so that the plate of brownies and the lemon-sour cream pie balanced on the passenger seat didn’t fall over. She’d made the pie last night and pulled the brownies from the oven less than forty minutes ago, before she’d jumped in the shower, so they were still warm. She hoped Austen and Wyatt liked them.

But when she turned down the street to the Miller place, a ball of dread formed in the pit of her stomach when she saw all the emergency vehicles blocking the driveway.

Had someone been hurt on the job site? Worry gnawing at her, she parked a half block away and crossed the street. All the cops knew her, since she’d been married to the former sheriff. Thankfully most of them didn’t hold that against her.

One of the most senior deputies, Frank, saw her coming and met her on the sidewalk. “Everything okay?” she asked, casting a worried look over the fence into the front yard.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

Piper jerked her attention back to him, the dread growing stronger. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Can’t give details right now, but it’s serious. Medical examiner is on his way.”

What? Someone had been
murdered
? She blanched. “Are Wyatt and Austen okay?” She didn’t know any of the others working on site.

“I don’t know who was involved. Sorry.”

Oh my God
. Wyatt had told her that someone had sent him threatening texts. And then Greg had showed up and threatened him at his house.

A sick feeling permeated her. Was Frank hiding that Greg was behind this? Had her ex actually lost it completely and hunted Wyatt down, then killed him in cold blood out of some insane notion of jealousy?

No. No, he wouldn’t.

But what if he
had
?

Heart pounding, she pushed past Frank, intent on getting through the barricade and up the driveway so she could see what the hell was going on.

He caught her upper arm and turned her around, his grip gentle but firm. “I can’t let you go in there, Piper.”

“Please just tell me if they’re okay,” she pleaded, half frantic. “They’re my friends.”

“I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in.” His expression told her he felt badly. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”

Ignoring the offer, she dug out her own phone and dialed Wyatt. The ringtone droned in her ear, grating on her tautly stretched nerves. Three rings later, his voicemail picked up. “Shit,” she whispered, starting to tremble as the fear hit her. She dialed Austen next, and same thing.

“No, no,” she muttered, and out of desperation dialed Easton’s number. He didn’t answer either.

She stepped past Frank, who followed her like a bloodhound as she rushed to the tape blocking off the end of the driveway. Casting a frantic look down it, she spotted Wyatt’s truck parked out front. Nausea churned in her stomach.
Oh my God
…

On wobbly legs she turned around and ran back to her car, dialing Wyatt once more before she pulled away from the curb and raced back toward town. She got his voicemail again. Swallowing hard, she sped down Main Street and out into the countryside, on autopilot as she headed for the Colebrook place.

By the time she arrived at the farmhouse she was on the verge of tears. Easton’s truck was parked out front. She bounded up the front steps and banged on the door, about to lose it. Quick footsteps sounded from inside and then the door swung open to reveal Easton standing there, bare-chested.

“Something bad’s happened at Austen’s place,” she blurted, almost panting because her breathing was so choppy. “I went there, but the on-duty cops wouldn’t let me in, and then I called Wyatt’s and Austen’s phones but they didn’t answer—”

“They’re okay,” he said quietly.

She stopped, blinked at him as his words penetrated, a wave of relief slamming over her. “How do you know?”

“Wyatt called me. He and Austen are both okay.”

“One of the cops said the medical examiner was en route.”

Easton nodded, his brown eyes somber. “Two people died.”

She swallowed. “Who?”

“Two guys on the crew.”

Oh, man, how awful. “Did Wyatt say what happened?” she asked carefully, dreading his answer. If Greg had done this, she didn’t know what she’d do.

“Yeah.”

That he didn’t just tell her spiked her anxiety. “What?” she demanded, about to snap. “Why won’t you tell me?”

Easton sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, then reached for her hand and pulled her inside. “Come sit down,” he said, leading her into the front parlor. “You look pale.”

She sank onto the sofa while Easton sat on the coffee table in front of her, resting his elbows on his knees and it was unsettling to realize she was having a hard time keeping her eyes on his face when all those chiseled muscles were on display a mere foot-and-a-half away.

“One of Wyatt’s guys killed one of the others, and attacked Austen.” He paused. “It was Scott.”

She stared at him, aghast. “The guy who worked here on the farm?”

Easton nodded. “Apparently he had a grudge against Wyatt for what happened to Taylor over in Afghanistan. He wanted to even the score by killing Austen in front of Wyatt.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered, horrified. It was so sick and wrong.

“Yeah. I’m not clear on the details yet, but Wyatt shot him. He’s dead.”

“Good.”

One side of Easton’s mouth tipped up at her response, and she struggled to ignore just how gorgeous he was. “That’s what I said.”

Shuffling footsteps on the staircase made her look over and Mr. C came into view.

“Piper,” he acknowledged as he headed down the remaining stairs. “You hear the news?”

“Just now. You okay?” How awful, to find out one of the men he’d hired had done this.

“Wyatt and Austen are okay, so yes, I’m fine.”

Piper looked back at Easton. “Are you guys heading out to meet Wyatt?”

He nodded. “They’re at the vet clinic.”

“What? Why?”

He grimaced and reached out to take her hands. “Grits was shot.”

She gasped, one hand flying to her chest. “No!”

He nodded. “Looks like he’s going to lose one of his back legs.”

“That son of a bitch,” she fumed, shoving to her feet. Killing one of his coworkers, threatening Austen, and then shooting an innocent little dog? She hoped he was burning in hell right now.

Easton rose and rubbed his hands over her upper arms, but the soothing touch did nothing to calm her down. “Wyatt and Austen are down at the clinic. They’ve gotta talk to the cops after, and Wyatt didn’t want Grits to be alone so he asked me to come stay with him while he’s in recovery.”

“Oh, but… Why wouldn’t he call me to do that?” Maybe it was stupid to feel hurt by that, but she’d been the one to bring the dog to him in the first place. Wyatt knew how much she loved animals, and how much she cared about him and his family.

“He didn’t want to upset you,” Easton said, still rubbing her arms. For some reason his touch sent distracting and unwanted tingles racing over her skin.

Unsettled by her body’s reaction, she stepped back, out of reach, and cleared her throat. This was the first time she’d ever felt like an outsider with them. Even through Wyatt’s long rehab once he’d come home from the hospital, his family had allowed her to be here in the thick of things. They’d let her help them all, leaned on her for support. “I was heading over to Austen’s place to drop off some treats I made. They’re in the car. Can I leave them in the cabin?”

“Of course.”

She turned and headed for the front door, mind whirling, a flurry of emotions pushing her precariously close to tears. Easton followed her out and she wished he hadn’t. She could use a few minutes alone to compose herself.

He was right behind her when she opened the front passenger door and saw the mess on the seat. “Oh no…”

She’d been in such a rush to get here, she hadn’t even thought about the baking during the turns. Brownies and crumbs were strewn all over the seat, and some pie filling had smeared on the center armrest where the plastic wrap had come undone and the pie had smashed against it.

Easton stuck his head in to take a look. “Still looks good to me,” he said, and began scooping the fallen brownies back onto the paper plate she’d stacked them on.

Piper swallowed, struggling against tears, but couldn’t quite hold back a sniffle as she dealt with the pie.

“Hey,” Easton murmured, setting the plate down and taking her by the shoulders. She tensed and resisted turning around to face him, afraid she’d break down, but he was insistent.

Blinking up at him as the unwelcome tears formed, her voice wobbled. “I just wanted to take them some brownies,” she whispered, all her normal control deserting her.

He grinned and pulled her into a hug—against his hard, bare chest. “That was real nice of you. They smell amazing, as always,” he said, his arms so warm and solid around her. And he smelled way better than the brownies.

“They’re ruined,” she said, feeling miserable. It was weird and creepy, her suddenly being aware of Wyatt’s little brother in a physical way. She’d be mortified if he ever found out, and being held to his naked chest was torture.

“They’re not,” he soothed.

Piper squeezed her eyes shut and blurted out the truth she’d been holding back. “I was afraid it was Greg.” She paused a beat, unable to look at him because she felt so ashamed that she’d ever married her ex. “When I heard the medical examiner was coming, that’s what I thought. That maybe Greg had gone after Wyatt at the house.”

“Hey,” he said again, waiting until she finally looked at him before continuing. “It wasn’t, but it doesn’t make you a bad person for wondering that. Greg has serious issues. And that’s not your fault either. You know that, right? You’re not responsible for his actions and decisions.”

She lowered her gaze to stare down at his boots. “I know.”

“Good.” He drew her close again, one hand on the back of her head, pressing her cheek to his bare shoulder.

This time Piper sighed and allowed herself to relax into his embrace. She’d had no one to lean on for so long. Not this way, and even if Easton was Wyatt’s little brother, he still felt damn good.

Soaking up his offer of comfort like a thirsty sponge, her hands crept up his back to rest against his shoulder blades. Warm, smooth skin met her palms, powerful muscles bunching beneath them. Arousal sparked throughout her body, potent and forbidden, making her nipples tighten.

Wyatt’s little brother
, she reminded herself, horrified by the leap of need that was getting harder and harder to ignore. She pulled out of his embrace, desperate for space and ashamed of her reaction.

“Hell, if Wyatt doesn’t want ‘em, I’ll eat ‘em. You know I love your baking,” Easton said.

She shook her head. “They’re for him and Austen. I’ll make you your own.”

“Yeah? Better do it soon, then, ‘cuz I’m only here for a couple more days.”

She searched his face. “You’re leaving again already?” He usually had at least a week or two off in between missions before he had to go back to work.

He nodded, and something she’d never seen before moved in his warm brown eyes. Yearning? And a weariness that made her want to wrap him up in her arms and never let go. “Yeah, already.”

“Where are you going this time?” She hated that his job was so dangerous, but he was even more of an adrenaline junkie than their middle brother Brody was, and loved living life on the edge. He said it made him feel alive.

“Who knows? Wherever they need us to stomp out the drug trade the most this week,” he said, his tone teasing but again she could see that unfamiliar, timeworn look in his eyes. Then he cocked his head and gave her one of his trademark grins that transformed his expression. “You all right now?”

For just a moment the sheer male beauty of him stunned her. She blinked and cleared her suddenly dry throat. “Yes.”

“Let’s take this over and put it in the fridge for them,” he said, releasing her to pick up the plate of brownies. “After the shit day they’ve had, I’m sure they’ll appreciate some homemade goodies.”

Piper bent to gather what was left of the pie. When she straightened she could have sworn she caught him staring at her ass, but then he walked away, heading for the cabin without a backward glance and she told herself she had to have imagined it.

Because if she hadn’t, she didn’t know what the hell to make of it.

Feeling totally off balance, she followed him over to the cabin and put the pie in the fridge while he set the brownies on the table.

“This one’s pretty smashed up,” he commented, picking one off the top. “I should probably eat it, to make the presentation better.”

She laughed softly. “Like there was ever any doubt.”

He took a huge bite and chewed, rolled his eyes heavenward as a low moan spilled from his lips. “So good.”

Something eased inside her and she smiled, trying to ignore what the sound of that moan did to her. One of her greatest pleasures was watching people enjoy her baking. “I’m glad. Well, I guess I should let you and your dad get to the vet’s.”

He walked her out to her car, polishing off the rest of the brownie. “You okay to drive?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Since leaving Greg she’d been on a mission to reinvent herself. She was strong and independent, didn’t want anyone to think she was weak, least of all Easton and his family.

“You sure look fine,” he said with an appreciative grin meant to raise her spirits.

Was he flirting with her? Or just teasing, as usual? Given how weird things had been this afternoon, she couldn’t tell for certain. There was no way he was attracted to her. He was so hard to read but she and everyone else in Sugar Hollow knew he was never short of female company. Why would he ever be interested in her when he could have any woman he wanted, and she had also once dated his eldest brother? Ick.