His laughter faded to chuckles; he turned to face her.
“If you unloaded a round of bullets into Anderson’s gut, you would’ve done less damage.”
“That’s not violence; that’s the vulnerability of a man’s ego.”
“Or his dick.”
“Well then, he likely won’t survive what else I have in store for him. The last rung on my ladder is Bailey Joe Williams. Once I verify a couple of things with him, I’ll know for sure.”
“Tell me what you wanted from Bailey Joe,” he demanded in thatI rule over all creationway that grated on her last nerve.
“I’m not one of your deputies, don’t demand things from me. I don’t know if I can trust you with the information yet.”
He moved so fast she was on her back, caging her between his thick arms.
“Whose bed are you in Ms. Green?”
“Y-yours,” she choked out. She didn’t like the breathlessness of her voice because she knew what that reaction meant.
He leaned closer, the weight of his chest pressing her deeper into the mattress. She didn’t want to push him away. The weight of him on top of her felt good, right, tantalizing. His nose brushed against the shell of her ear and she sighed, her body loosening, readying itself.
“Do you trust me?” he growled out and she wondered where her tight-mouthed unyielding sheriff had gone. That man, despite his rigidness, she trusted. She knew this because there was no part of her nature that she hid or disguised from him.This man,her inner voice purred,there was no part of this man she should ever trust.
“Do you trust me?” his nose grazed the side of her throat, his breath warm against her skin. Her pelvic floor tightened.
“I do. I don’t know why but I do.”
He grunted and rolled back on to his back.
“You do know why. Because I’m gonna say what I’m gonna say; do what I’m gonna do; and you never have to guess where I stand because I’ll tell you.”
In their limited time of knowing each other, she knew that to be true. He hmphed. She frowned, turning toward his shadowed figure. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just… You seem to have this uncanny ability to detect bullshit. Was your Derrick that good at hiding his nature, his character?”
She thought about it, recalling different interactions they’d had over the course of their relationship and came up with the most honest response she could.
“He wasn’t. Derrick was more circumspect and analytical. He was levelheaded. He...he was good for me; grounded me?—”
“So, he was your emotional support fiancé?”
She kicked him and he grunted.
“All I’m saying is we got a bloodhound that I’d describe in much the same way you just described Derrick.”
“You know, I don’t think he was that good at hiding. Which is why I saw less and less of him as the wedding approached. I just ignored the changes. In truth, I just didn’t believe I needed to pay attention. I trusted him to tell me if something was wrong. I even asked once and he said something about work and the wedding and the move and being overwhelmed; and I got it, I fucking got it because I was spread thin for all the same reasons.” She sighed. “Most of all I just trusted him to tell me if something was wrong. Three months with no sex didn’t even bother me.”
“Three months.”
“Shut up. Planning weddings is stressful.”
“And fucking the woman you claim to love goes a long way in relieving that stress.”
“Have you ever been engaged?”
“Hell no!”
“Then what do you know about it?”
