It was too hot to go for a run just yet, even for me, and definitely for Fish. He was a good sport when it came to physical activity, and being a cattle dog, that meant he was good at keeping up for a mile or two, but that didn’t mean he was too keen on going much further than that. If we were a little higher up and it were cooler, he would be a little more interested.
Being hunched at a desk wasn’t my thing. The whole idea of sitting there and filling out reports while pretending Iwasn’t distracted was pointless. My mind kept drifting back to Cabin Six and the woman inside it. Any day that I had to spend in an office made me want to tear my hair out. Usually, I was thinking about my next hike or what I’d have for dinner, not the blonde bombshell that had landed in my backyard.
Fish’s tail thumped as we neared town, wanting the window down so he could stick his head out like he enjoyed, but I kept the air on right now. Rubbing his head, I slowed down as I turned onto the street where the police department was.
I told myself I was heading into town because I hadn’t seen Wade in a while. That part was true. We both worked in law enforcement, but in different branches. We always had Sunday dinners, and Maggie was diligent about ensuring we came every week. But there was another reason, heavier and more persistent, sitting right behind my sternum, for why I was here.
My new renter in Cabin Six. The true crime podcaster sleeping just yards from me, who made my dick hard if I thought too long about her.
Wildwood Meadows PD sat just off Main, a low brick building that had been remodeled three times and still smelled a little. Probably like old coffee, disinfectant, and piss if you thought about it too much. I parked out front, clipped Fish’s leash on him, and let him jump down even though I knew he’d be bored out of his mind.No way would I be leaving him in the Jeep in weather like this. It was way too hot.
Viola, the police department’s receptionist, straightened up as I came in. The front desk was huge and spread nearly over the front of the lobby, but even that wasn’t enough to contain all the stuff she had piled on it. She pushed up her glasses to peer at me. “Hey, Kipp.”
“Hey, Viola. How are you doing these days?” She blew up her bangs, shaking her head. “That bad?” Peering around the desk, I looked at all the files that seemed to multiply like rabbits. Some of them looked really old. “Why does it always seem like you’re swimming in file folders all the time?”
“Part of the City Council’s condition for me being hired was that they wanted me to go through all their old files and organize them. I said I could do it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“What year are you up to now?”
“1962.”
“Geez. Well, I guess that’s work security, right?” The job seemed hellacious to me. Literally my nightmare, and it seemed like it wasn’t exactly her dream either. She looked stressed, but a job was a job. “Wade here?”
“In his office. Go on back,” she said. She picked up another folder as if it were the last thing she wanted.Pushing up her glasses, she placed one on what must be her done pile and opened it, dismissing me. “See ya.”
Nodding, I clicked my tongue at Fish, and we headed back to the office. It was in the usual spot, second door on the right with the nameplate he loved. He had the door open because he apparently didn’t mind random strangers coming in to bother him.
He looked up from his desk with a grin that split his face wide. “Well, I’ll be damned. Did that last group chat shake something loose? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re glad to see you, too. Right Fish? You ungrateful ass.” Fish obviously couldn’t give two fucks as he made a beeline for the corner, circled twice, and plopped down with a huff.
Wade leaned back in his chair, boots propped on the edge of his desk, looking relaxed, but I knew better. My brother was always alert, and you could see it in the crispness of his uniform shirt, even now. Mine was already rumpled, making me feel sloppy next to him.
We were only two years apart, with Wade being the older of us, but I’d gotten to Levi and Maggie’s first, so it gave me time to settle into the family unit. That was good for me, given my background. In many ways, we had very different personalities and approached our decisions to enter law enforcement for our own reasons.
While we weren’t related by DNA, we were raised under the same roof, and Levi and Maggie had taught us how to be good men. Levi had shown me that not all men were paranoid mother fuckers who dropped their kids in the woods to fend for themselves. The Holts had shown me that families protect each other. It had unlocked that piece in me that craved stability and the need to be a protector.
He grinned at me, making me want to throw something at him. “What brings you into civilization?” he asked. “You finally get sick of talking to trees?”
“Listen, a-hole. Trees listen better than most people. I was just in the area. Maybe Fish and I wanted to see you.”
He snorted. “Sure.”
Wade and East had both left after high school, East to start his contracting business and Wade to join the military, while I stayed close to home. It made sense to me—the comfort of the forests and the land I knew. My brothers wanted to see more of the world, and I couldn’t fault them for that, but Wildwood Meadows was all I’d ever wanted. Our sisters, except Phiny, had both opted to stay close too. They were homebodies like I was. Delphina I’d pegged to stay gone, but she’d surprised us all by coming home last year.
Wade was the person I came to when I had something on my mind, so he studied me closely, his boots sliding offhis desk as he leaned forward. “You look like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. You want to spit it out?”
I exhaled through my nose. “You ever wish people would stop bringing their mess into your space?”
“That is literally our job,” he said dryly. “That’s a pretty big ask.”
“Not what I mean.” Letting out an exasperated breath, I picked at a nail.
That got his attention. He leaned on his desk, folding his hands together. “Alright. Talk to me, little brother.”
Hesitating, I tried to wrestle the words together … or the feelings. In that moment, it told me more than I wanted to admit: I was struggling too much to articulate what my problem was.
“You gonna say it, or am I supposed to guess?” he prompted. “I don’t have a magic eight ball.”
