I lifted a single shoulder, suddenly feeling incredibly naked, even though all my bits and bobbles were covered by my clothes, wet as they were. What would he do if he found out today wasn’t one of those planned days? “You have to get crafty when you don’t have consistent access to a washing machine.”
I could’ve sworn I heard him swear lowly under his breath, but a loud boom of thunder drowned him out, the flash of lightning through the sky highlighting his harsh, tight features for a second before plunging us back into darkness. He pulled his phone from his pocket, navigated to an app, and then a second later, his garage door opened.
Stacks of chopped wood lined each side, enough that he wouldn’t run out for a solid three years. Did he chop that himself? Of course he did. He’d love the predictability, the rhythm of it. I, for one, would love the sweatiness of it. Did he have a wood chopping uniform, or did he do it shirtless…maybe while wearing some low-slung jeans or—heaven help me—gray sweatpants?
He pulled inside the single stall—though the effort was pretty much useless now since we were both soaked to the bone—then shut off his engine. He cleared his throat into the suddenly silent space. “I’ll show you around, get you something to change into, and then head out.”
Oh shit. I hadn’t eventhoughtof a change of clothes. Or shoes, actually. Or my purse. So I had only what was on my back and my phone that’d been tucked into my pocket when he’d found me. I’d been so dumb struck by Brady’s insistence on getting me out of there that I’d left without thinking. So what else was new.
I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for the door handle. “That’s awful gentlemanly of you. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“And I didn’t think you’d actually get in the car unless I hauled you in over my shoulder, so I guess we’re both full of surprises.”
I stepped out as he did the same and met his gaze over the roof, my head cocked to the side. “Do you feel like the handcuffs werelessdemanding than carrying me over your shoulder would’ve been?”
Thankfully, he’d had to unlock those cuffs before we could get in the car since crawling over the center console with all his sheriff gear would’ve been near impossible, but he’d only done so after he’d crowded me into the car, his big body blocking my way and giving me no other choice. He seemed to think I was an idiot, but I wasn’t, and he’d made good points. I’d been fine there…until the tree had come down. And by that time, it’d been too late. I hadn’t been able to leave anyway, so what else was I going to do but make the most of it?
Brady grunted out some semblance of an answer as he led the way up the couple steps and into his home. He unlocked the door, then held it open for me, gesturing me inside in front of him. I walked past, our skin brushing as I went, and forced down the shiver that worked its way up my spine at his nearness.
My skirt dripped with every step I took, and I cringed at the puddles of water I’d already caused on his wide-planked pine floors. Freezing in place, I pointed to the spot I stood. “Do you want me to just…?”
He stepped up right behind me, so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, and pressed his hand to my lower back, urging me forward. “I live on the ocean, lawbreaker. These floors have seen water.”
“Well, color me surprised,” I said over my shoulder, the single hall light on in the house casting shadows over Brady’s face that only accentuated the harsh lines—his fierce brow, carved cheekbones, and jawline sharp enough to cut glass. The man really was a work of art. “The rigid, rule-following sheriff who likes things just so is okay with a little mess once in a while?”
He stopped just inside the kitchen and stepped around to face me. With gentle, slow movements, he reached up and pulled a tiny twig from my hair before brushing the sodden mass behind my shoulder, the soft brush of his fingers over my collarbone eliciting a trail of goose bumps in its wake. Then he leaned forward so his lips were right next to my ear, his mouth brushing the shell with each word. “When it’s warranted, I’m more than okay with it.”
My breath got caught in my throat, and I froze. OhJesus. Was he talking about sex? He wastotallytalking about sex. And I was standing there, completely pantiless and drenched—in all definitions of the word—while this walking, talking wet dream of a man loomed in front of me. So fierce and protective. So solid and sure. So very Brady.
“Noted,” I said, planting my feet firmly on the floor so I didn’t do something stupid like run away. Or jump into his arms and climb him like a tree.
He pulled back, his gaze dipping to my mouth, and I held my breath, too afraid to burst the bubble of this moment. He swiped his tongue along his lower lip, and I tracked the movement with rapture. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’ll just grab you something to wear and then head—”
His radio crackled to life from where it was secured on his chest, the sound so loud and harsh in the otherwise quiet space, I startled. “Sheriff, can I get an update on your location?”
He maintained eye contact with me as he reached up and pushed a button on the radio. “I’m just getting a few things settled at home, and then I’ll be on my way in.”
“Afraid you won’t. We’ve got reports of a downed power line on Lincoln, which means you’re blocked in. Mother Nature’s spoken, and it looks like she wants you off the clock like you’re supposed to be.”
Oh shit. This was bad. This wassobad. I’d come here thinking I’d have solitude. That I wouldn’t be forced to be in Brady’s presence and that we’d have a little space from each other to cool down. That usually worked when things heated up between us.
But the problem was, this wasn’t the usual form of heat. It wasn’t the first time he’d turned me on, no, but something was different tonight. Whether it was the undercurrent of danger, the wrecked and ravaged look he had to him, or simply the fact that my dumb ass hadn’t worn panties today, but it was different.
And now, there was no escape.
Brady’s jaw ticked as he stared at me, and I wondered if the same things were going through his head that were going through mine—namely, which flat surface to get naked on first.
He held the button on his radio, his eyes locked with mine. “Keep me posted.”
“Roger that, Sheriff.”
And then there was nothing but silence in the space surrounding us. Though the weight of the tension between us might as well have had a heartbeat of its own, the pulse thrumming so harshly through my body, I swore I could feel it. I wasn’t so sure that Brady’s and my entire acquaintance thus far hadn’t been one big foreplay session. Because as I stood in his house, surrounded by his things and his scent andhim, I wanted nothing more than to pull his face down to mine and kiss him again.
“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me, Sheriff.” I cocked my head to the side and bit my lip, trying to tell myself I didnotfind it attractive as I watched him shed his gear methodically. How that focus would feel directed at me. “How ever will we fill our time?”
CHAPTERELEVEN
BRADY
