“That’s not necessary,” I said quickly, remembering myself. The last thing I needed was Xavier following me around while I tried to focus on actual police work.
“But I want to help,” he insisted, those eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my collar feel too tight. “Besides, I’m bored. Lucas and Logan are in there talking about seating arrangements and I can only pretend to care about whether Aunt Martha sits near the dance floor for so long.”
Dakota looked between us, and I could see the amusement flickering in his eyes. Traitor.
“Actually, Sheriff, it might be helpful,” Dakota said. “Xavier’s been spending a lot of time watching Colt work with the students. He might’ve seen something we missed.”
There was a sudden surge of jealousy that made my stomach twist, catching me off guard. Xavier was watching Colt?
“I know he’s taken,” Xavier said, cocking his hip to one side as he locked eyes with me. “But damn he’s good to look at.”
I felt my jaw clench so hard I thought my teeth might crack. Colt. Of course he’d been watching Colt. Everyone watchedColt—the man looked like he’d been carved from stone and dipped in charisma. He was also Eli’s partner, an insatiable flirty, and completely unavailable. And, if the rumors were true, he and Eli weren’t prudes when it came to inviting other guys home for a littlefun.
“Well, Colt’s got a job to do,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. “And so do I. So, if you’ll excuse me?—”
“Oh come on, Sheriff,” Xavier interrupted, that playful smile still dancing on his lips. “Don’t tell me you’re the jealous type. Iwas just making an observation. Colt’s attractive, sure, but he’s not really my type, anyway.”
I didn’t want to know what his type was. I absolutely didnotwant to know. “Jealousy has nothing to do with it. Like I said, I’ve got work to do.”
“What about those boots?” Xavier pressed, gesturing toward his mud-caked sneakers. “Seriously, I’m going to ruin these if I keep walking around out here. They’re Balenciaga.”
I had no idea what that meant, but judging by his tone, I assumed it meant expensive.
Dakota cleared his throat. “I’ve got some spare boots in the barn that might fit you. Follow me.”
“Perfect!” Xavier clapped his hands together like Dakota had just offered him a winning lottery ticket rather than used work boots. “Wait right there, sheriff. I’ll be right back!”
I watched them head toward the barn, Xavier’s tight jeans leaving very little to the imagination as he walked. I forced myself to look away, focusing instead on the prints in the mud. Work. I had work to do. That’s what I needed to concentrate on.
Not Xavier’s beautiful and perfectly sculpted ass.
Chapter 6
Xavier
“So, what are we looking for?” I asked as Dakota and Marcus began to walk the Baker Ranch. “Ruffians? Thugs? Jaywalkers?”
“That’s police business and none of yours,” Marcus replied quickly. “You shouldn’t even be out here with us.”
Ooh, someone was a little grumpy. But the way he scrunched up his nose looked so cute on him. Besides, I loved the way he kept avoiding eye contact with me. It told me everything I needed to know.
“Oh, come on,” I said, putting on my best pouty face. “It’s not a murder, so it can’t bethatbad.” I glanced over at Dakota. “Someone steal a horse or something?”
“That would be a lot more serious,” Dakota replied, looking more than a little amused about watching me tromp through mud in rubber boots up to my knees. “There’s been some things that’ve gone missin’—”
“Don’t tell him that!” Marcus shot back, pointing a finger at Dakota. “Those are pertinent details about the case! What if word gets out and the robber skips town?”
“Well, I don’t talk to anyone but Lucas’s friends,” I shrugged. “And I doubt any of them is stealing from Logan.”
“I’d have to agree with that, Sheriff,” Dakota nodded. “Whoever’s doing this, they’re no friend of ours.”
I watched Marcus’s jaw tighten as he shot Dakota another look. The sheriff really didn’t want me here, that much was obvious. But the more he resisted, the more I wanted to stick around. Call it petty, but there was something deeply satisfying about getting under his skin. Although getting under his clothes sounded a lot more fun.
“Fine,” Marcus muttered, adjusting his hat. “But you keep quiet and don’t touch anything. And if I tell you to go back to the house, you go. Understood?”
“Yes, sir, Sheriff, sir,” I said with a mock salute.
He rolled his eyes and started walking toward the tree line behind the main house. Dakota fell into step beside him, and I hurried to catch up, these oversized rubber boots making an embarrassing squelching sound with each step. They were at least two sizes too big, and I was pretty sure I looked ridiculous. But at least my Balenciagas were safe back in the barn.
