CHAPTER 3
Everleigh
I can’t believe I called Wyatt sexy to his face.
A few weeks ago, beforeThe Rusty Nailincident that involved me waking up in Wyatt’s shirt, I could’ve gotten away saying the same thing without it having to mean anything. But the second those words slipped past my lips this morning, I felt a charge between us. As though lightning struck in my kitchen.
I glance at him behind the wheel of his truck, trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes without him noticing. I’m curious if they’re as dark as they were when that stupid comment left my mouth. Because this would be a really great time to discover that my overactive imagination was simply out of control. Maybe his eyes arealwaysdark.
Ugh. Why did I make that stupid flirty comment to begin with? Oh right, because there was that quick moment of what felt an awful lot like jealousy when he thought I had company that may or may not have turned me on.
You imagined that, Ev.
Birdie lets out a soft hum as she sticks her head through the open police cage window that separates the front seat from theback, effectively blocking my view of Wyatt.Good Birdie. It’s probably for the best until I figure out how to shake these weird feelings about the man. It wasn’t jealousy he was experiencing. It was concern for my safety, considering Iwasyelling. That has to be it, even if my tingling lady bits don’t seem to be on the same page.
Good. Glad that’s settled. Because I refuse to have a crush on the good sheriff. It would ruin everything.
“Where’s Thor?” I ask, reaching my hand beneath Birdie’s chin. I press her soft cheek against mine as I scrub my fingers gently into her fur, grateful for the distraction. I know very little about alpacas. Are all of them as snuggly as Birdie, or is she the exception?
“Probably passed out on my bed, stealing my pillow,” Wyatt answers.
“Rough morning?” His Great Dane is usually eager to go on patrol first thing in the morning. I’m fairly certain Thor thinks of himself as Wyatt’s right-hand man. The mayor even gave him an honorary badge to wear around his neck.
“He ate an entire stack of pancakes whole, in under three seconds.”
“That’s impressive.”
“So was the mess I had to clean up after those pancakes came right back up.”
“Poor Thor.”
“Poor Thor?” Wyatt scoffs. “What about poor Wyatt down on his hands and knees scrubbing up doggie puke?”
“Did you step in it?” I fire back as Birdie slips from my hand and returns her attention to an exterior window. God she’s so stinking cute. Like a dog happy to simply have her face in the breeze.
“Of course not.”
“Until you step in it barefoot in the middle of the night, I have no sympathy for you.” Stormy hasn’t left me a surprise in almost a week, but after allowing a strange creature into my house, she might decide she’s overdue. I make a mental note to keep a pair of slippers close to my…couch. Because sleeping in my bed would require actually clearing it off and finding clean sheets.
“Fair enough.”
I watch Birdie with her head out the window as we leave the city limits, nervous about how tightly her unicorn hat is secured. She seems oddly attached to it, and I don’t know how she’d react if the wind ripped it from her head.
“Why are we taking Birdie to Stone Ranch?” I ask, my gaze snagging on the handsome sheriff. I gulp a swallow at the dusting of stubble on his cheeks, wondering if my text prevented him from shaving this morning. I yearn to run my fingers along his cheeks to see if it’s scratchy or soft.
Stop it, Everleigh!
“Paps knows more about Birdie’s situation,” Wyatt says.
“Situation?”
“She used to live at your house.”
“Well, that would explain why she showed up. And the alfalfa pellets. But where did she come from? She wasn’t there last night.”
“That’s what I want to find out. Something doesn’t sit right with me.”
A tiny thrill races through me at the protectiveness in his tone. Fuck, that’s new. Wyatt’s always been protective by nature. It’s in his job description. Something I’ve certainly always admired about him. But this is the first time that particular trait makes my nipples tingle.
