Fuck, she's beautiful.
Not the obvious kind that stops traffic and knows it, but the kind that sneaks up on you like a sucker punch.
Delicate bone structure that makes her look too young for the shadows in her eyes, but with a mouth that's pure sin when she smiles.
Like when we let Dusty out of his crate for his first shaky steps after surgery. That smile illuminated the whole damn clinic.
Dark hair that catches light like spun silk. Skin that looks like it would be soft as hell under my rough hands.
And those eyes. Deep brown with flecks of gold, framed by lashes long enough to get a man in serious trouble. They see too much, feel too much.
When she looks at me, I get the uncomfortable sensation that she's cataloging every scar, every broken piece, every reason I'm not worth the trouble.
Smart girl.
I'm halfway through the third whiskey when the bar door creaks open, letting in a gust of cold Montana air thatcuts through the smoky haze. Gabriel Maddox fills the doorframe, still wearing his sheriff's uniform but with the badge unpinned and the official edge softened around the corners.
He nods at Mae, orders a Coors, and settles onto the stool next to mine without invitation. The leather groans under his weight.
"Rough day?" he asks, those blue eyes taking in my general state of disrepair with the practiced assessment.
"Every day's rough when you're me." I don't look at him, just focus on the amber liquid catching the neon light. "Shouldn't you be out serving and protecting the good citizens of Briarhaven?"
"Off duty." Gabriel takes a long pull from his beer bottle, condensation already beading on the glass. "Even small-town sheriffs need to blow off steam sometimes. Heard Beau Blackwell's been visiting your clinic."
The laugh that escapes me is bitter enough to strip paint off a barn. "News travels fast in this town."
"Must be strange, having him back in your space after everything that went down."
Gabriel doesn't know the whole story. Nobody does. But he knows enough. Knows that Beau and I used to be thick as thieves, knows something went sideways around two years ago, knows we've been circling each other like wounded animals ever since.
"Strange is one word for it." I drain the whiskey and tap the glass. "Tense would be more accurate. If Lucy hadn't stepped between us yesterday, things might've gotten real ugly, real fast."
"Lucy." Gabriel's voice changes when he says her name, gets a little rougher around the edges. "Your new assistant."
"Temporary assistant," I correct, though something twists in my chest at the reminder. "But you already knew that. You keeping tabs on my employee, Sheriff?"
Gabriel studies me with those cop eyes that miss nothing.
"I'm keeping tabs on everyone new in my town. Especially people with secrets."
"We all have secrets."
"Some more than others." Gabriel takes another sip of beer, studying my face like he's reading a report. "She's gotten under your skin."
It's not a question.
"She's good at her job," I say carefully. "Makes my life easier."
"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."
Gabriel's right, and that pisses me off more than it should. Lucy has gotten under my skin, in ways that have nothing to do with her organizational skills and everything to do with the way she makes me want things I'd buried two years ago.
"Even if she had," I say slowly, "what would it matter? She's too young, too good, too everything for a burned-out bastard like me."
"You're thirty-six, not sixty. And last I checked, you still have most of your teeth."
"Hilarious." I down half the whiskey in one swallow, feeling it burn all the way down. "Besides, I prefer my women with no expectations and fewer complications. One night, no names, no contact information. Clean and simple."
