“No. That’s it.”
“You’ve been doing this all across the state? Who owns the warehouse in Autum Falls?”
“I’m not sure, but I think either Hall’s dad or the insurance adjuster. Axel never said.”
“I’ll look for the deed.” Rawley stood. “This better be everything.”
“It is. I swear.”
“Yeah, like I’d believe you. Get up and Deputy Lawrence will take you back to your cell. I’ll see you in court.”
“Will I be able to get a deal?”
“If I can verify everything you told me, I’ll talk to the judge. You’re going to need an attorney.”
“Yes, sir,” Hill said in a dejected voice.
Rawley led him to where Jack sat, handed him over, then strode to Dave’s office to tell him. He was tired and sore, so he asked Dave if he could leave and he let him. Rawley just wanted to go home and relax. After he picked up some burgers.
Once he got those, he slowly made his way to Skylar’s house as the snow swirled in the glow of his headlights and coating his windshield wipers despite the defroster blasting hot air. He finally pulled into her snow-dusted driveway, grabbed the white paper bag from the diner that was warm against his frozen fingers, and trudged up the slippery walk, his boots crunching through the fresh powder. He smiled when he heard the dogs barking. They knew the distinctive rumble of his truck’s engine from a mile away.
As he stepped onto the porch, the door swung open, spilling golden light onto the snow, and he let out an appreciative groan when he saw Skylar standing there in her blue sweatpants and one of his T-shirts, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Hi, get in out of the cold,” she said, her breath visible in the frigid air as she opened the door wider, revealing the warm glow of the living room behind her.
He removed his black Stetson, carefully wiped his snow-encrusted boots on the bristly welcome mat, brushed the clinging snowflakes from his hat and coat, then stepped into theheavenly warmth of her home. Leaning down, he pressed his cold lips against her soft, warm ones.
“Hi, baby.” He straightened, hung his hat on the oak rack, then did the same with his coat, revealing his flannel shirt underneath. “That crackling fire feels like heaven after being out in this weather.”
“I got home a while ago and made it to take the chill off. I was absolutely freezing when I got home.”
“I can warm you better than any fire,” he whispered, then kissed her lips again, pulling her slender body tight against his chest.
“Stop, you stubborn man.” She shook her head, but her eyes sparkled. “What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Anything you want.” He winked at her.
She laughed. “Give me that bag before it gets cold. I’m absolutely starving.”
“Okay, I’m going to change out of these damp clothes. I’ll be right back. Go ahead and start without me.”
“Don’t think I won’t.” She carried the grease-spotted bag to the plush sofa, sank into the cushions, and opened the bag to remove her juicy burger, moaning at the mouthwatering aromas of grilled meat and melted cheese that wafted up.
Rawley shook his head as he watched her. He entered the bedroom, stripped off his clothes, then called out to her through the half-open door.
“Do you mind if I take a hot shower? I need to thaw out.”
“Sure, go ahead. There are fresh towels in the cabinet.”
“You can always join me,” he yelled with a grin, then chuckled when her laughter floated back to him. He entered the steamy bathroom and closed the door behind him with a soft click.
****
Skylar sat on the edge of the sofa, one leg tucked beneath her, trying to concentrate on the romcom flickering across the TV screen and the cheeseburger growing cold on the foil wrapper on her lap. But her mind kept wandering to the bathroom, where she could hear water drumming against tile. She pictured rivulets cascading down his skin, streaming over the defined ridges of his chest, tracing the curve of his biceps, following the trail of dark hair down his taut stomach. A flush of heat spread across her cheeks.
“Damn that man,” she whispered through clenched teeth. She abandoned her dinner, walking to her bedroom where she peeled off her oversized T-shirt and sweatpants. The bathroom door wasn’t fully closed. Tendrils of steam escaped through the gap, carrying the scent of his sandalwood soap. Through the foggy glass doors, his silhouette moved beneath the spray. She slid the door open, stepped onto the slick tiles, and pressed her bare chest against his back, her arms encircling his slippery waist as hot water cascaded over them both.
He turned to face her, rivulets of water streaming down his muscled chest. “You told me to behave,” he said, voice husky.
