Mr. Serious Read online

Page 13


  He looked back at her as he slipped into his clothes.

  She stirred slightly and moaned, as though she was protesting his absence in her sleep. Her moan made him think of the way she had sounded and looked under him last night. The thought made his body stir, and he forced himself to look away. There wasn’t time to do the things he wanted to do to her now, but given another chance, he would ravage her and make her purr like the sexy lioness she was.

  He chuckled at the thought. He would give just about anything to have enough time to make her go from a purr to a roar.

  Wyatt, standing in the living room, turned toward him as he made his way down the hall. Waylon sighed as he imagined all the things his brother was probably going to say.

  “Say whatever it is you’re dying to say,” Waylon said, motioning down the hallway toward his room.

  “Hmm?” his brother asked, a mischievous grin on his face. “What do you want me to say?”

  Waylon snorted. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “I get one, then I’ll leave it alone,” Wyatt said. “Just don’t hurt her. She’s a good one. She may come off like she’s as tough as nails, but she’s not. She has been through a lot, especially with everything going on with her sister. Gwen and she are good friends, but even Gwen may not be able to save her if you decide to go on and break her heart.”

  “I have no intention of breaking her heart.”

  “Intention or no intention, if you’ve got her in your bed, you are only setting her up to fall.”

  He couldn’t deny the fact his brother was right.

  Wyatt gave him that look, the look that he’d given him every time he’d been in trouble as a kid. “There’s no good way out of the hole you’ve started to dig with her.”

  There was a good way out, but not one he would dare whisper. The second he started to talk about something more, something like a future, was the moment everything had a way of going wrong.

  “I wouldn’t call what we are doing digging a hole.”

  “Then what exactly would you call it? You are going to love her and leave her. Just like you did with Alli, and we all know exactly how well that turned out.” Wyatt motioned around them, like Alli was some kind of omnipresent being.

  “Are you kidding me?” Waylon tried to control his anger. He couldn’t be mad at his brother for warning him—he was just stepping up to the plate and making sure no one got hurt. In a way, his brother might be far wiser than him. Then again, Wyatt didn’t have a right to try to lay the blame of everything that had happened with Alli on Waylon. “None of this is my fault. Alli is a big girl. What she does or doesn’t do is on her.”

  “I know. You’re right.” Wyatt let out a long breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s just...”

  “You don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Waylon said, finishing his sentence. “Believe me when I say I don’t want her to get hurt, either.”

  “If that was true, you wouldn’t have—”

  “Stop,” Waylon said, putting his hands up in surrender. “You said you only got one. One was enough. You’re just going to have to trust me when I say I only want the best for Christina, and I care for her.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Good. Just as long as we know where we both stand. I don’t want to be the one stuck here holding the emotional baggage you leave behind. Again.”

  “Enough,” Waylon grumbled. “If you just woke me up to have a talk, I’m going back to bed, and to her.”

  “Wait,” Wyatt said, stopping him as he started to walk out of the room. “I’m sorry. Seriously, man, I guess that—” he motioned down the hall “—just caught me by surprise. I’ll be okay with it, I swear. You know, Gwen and I...you know how we’ve been over the years. I guess maybe I don’t have any room to judge how you go about your love life.”

  At least his brother had stepped back into the land of the reasonable. “Thanks, man. You know how it can be. Sometimes things just happen.”

  “You mean like love?” Wyatt scanned him, looking at Waylon like he was trying to find some twitch that would give his true feelings away.

  Did he love Christina? There were definitely things he really liked about her—her personality, how smart and driven she was, how her hair fell down her back and caressed her skin. She was so dang sexy. Yet she could set his teeth on edge in a matter of seconds when she wanted—especially when they talked about Winnie.

  If he made the decision to take Winnie with him back to Fort Bragg... Well, whatever fondness Christina felt for him would probably disappear more quickly than his independence. Yet if he left the girl with them at the ranch, she would undoubtedly come to resent him and his inability to be a father.

  The old adage “Danged if you do, and danged if you don’t” came to mind.

  “Why did you wake me up?” Waylon asked, mostly out of a desire to avoid answering Wyatt’s prying question.

  Wyatt smirked. “I thought you’d like to know we got a hit on the ring that went missing from the lockbox. Apparently, someone pawned it to a place in Flintlock last night.”

  “There have to be at least four pawnshops between here and there,” Waylon said, trying to recall the town just south of them that was little more than a speck on a map.

  Wyatt nodded. “Maybe Alli thought she was far enough outside our range.”

  “It’s still in Flathead County. She had to know you would get a call.”

  “Unless she thought she could get away with taking the ring without anyone noticing it was missing.”

  “Did you go through the documents in the box? Was there anything missing from those? Something that Christina might not have noticed?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “Lyle and my team went through the room. It had been rifled through, but I wouldn’t know if something else was taken. When I talked to Christina, not even she knew exactly what was in that box.”

  “Don’t you think it would hold official documents? Maybe something like Winnie’s birth certificate? Or her Social Security card. Did you find any of those kinds of things for Winnie?”

  “There were only a few deeds and a car title.”

  Waylon motioned toward the room. “I bet you a hundred bucks if you go back in there and look in that box, that stuff is missing.”

  They made their way down the hall to Winnie’s room. Someone had picked it up, as the little bed was made and all the toys were back in place. Wyatt walked to the closet and pulled the safe off the shelf. He opened it and shuffled through the papers. After a moment he looked up. “How did you know they wouldn’t be in here?”

  “I don’t know. I guess ever since I found out about Winnie, I’ve just been thinking about all the things I would need for her. If Alli is going to take her, she’s going to need those documents—especially if she wanted to take her over the border. Does Winnie have a passport?”

  The color drained from Wyatt’s face.

  “Let me guess. It’s missing, too?”

  Wyatt nodded. “But Gwen would never let Alli get her hands on the girl. Don’t worry.”

  “If she gets her hands on Winnie and makes it over the border, we’ll never get her back. Under no circumstances is Gwen to leave Winnie alone. Got it?”

  “She knows. Don’t worry,” Wyatt said. “If you think she wouldn’t do everything in her power to keep Winnie safe, you’re crazy. She loves that girl—maybe even more than you do. She’s known Winnie since the day she was born.”

  His brother’s words stung, but Waylon didn’t have time to dwell on it. If anything, he would just have to get used to everyone judging him for a mistake he hadn’t known he’d made. If that was the price of having his daughter in his life, then it was a price he was willing to pay.

  There was a knock on the door. Christina stood there, looking in at them. She was dressed and her hair was pulled bac
k into a messy bun, but the haze of sleep was still in her eyes. “What are you guys doing in here?” she asked, her voice sounding as groggy as she looked.

  “I’ll explain it on the drive,” Waylon said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the truck.

  “On the drive? Where are we going?” she asked.

  At least she had finally come to trust him and the fact he wasn’t out to hurt her or his family. Unfortunately, Wyatt was right. In a couple of days, that was exactly what he’d be doing—hurting the woman he cared about.

  There was no doubt in his mind that they shouldn’t have slept together, but when her fingers laced between his, his heart told him he had made the right choice last night. Spending the night holding her in his arms, her head on his chest, had been the best night he’d had in a long time. It had been something so beyond a one-night stand, even though he had the impression that neither of them intended to make it more than just that.

  It was strange how things could change in just a few seconds when they chose to open up their hearts. There would be no going back to the way things had been between them. For the rest of time, regardless of what the future brought, they would have the special bond that only lovers were blessed to experience.

  Wyatt walked over to his patrol unit. “I’ll lead the way. Try to keep up.”

  Waylon answered with a nod as he helped Christina into her truck.

  “If you’re going to drag me around, I’m going to need a cup of coffee. Especially after last night,” she said, an air of satisfaction in her tone.

  “If we had time, I’d make you a cup, but we need to head out.”

  “Okay, then you’ll at least have to tell me where we’re going.”

  “We’re heading to Flintlock,” he said. “We got a hit on your grandmother’s ring. Apparently, someone pawned it.”

  Her early-morning smile disappeared, and he instantly wished he hadn’t told her, but there was no avoiding the reality that last night, and what had happened between them, was officially over—no matter how badly he wished he could scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to his bed, Star Wars sheets and all.

  He laughed as he thought about how often in high school he’d dreamed of bringing a girl back to his room, and how it had never happened. Yet now that he hadn’t been looking, it had come to fruition.

  He slipped into the driver’s seat and followed Wyatt out onto the highway that bridged the gap between the two towns.

  Some of the ease they’d had with each other before had disappeared now that they were alone in the truck. It was like she also realized their time was coming to an end. She laid her hand between them on the bench seat, palm up. He almost reached for it, but as he started to move, she closed her fingers and pulled her hand back, balling it up in her lap.

  “Did your brother have anything to say about finding us in bed together?” she asked, her words as tight as her fist.

  “Yeah, he definitely had an opinion.”

  “One you care to share?” She glanced over at him.

  He put his hand atop her fist in an attempt to stop her from closing off more and more to him. He couldn’t handle being back on the outs with her. As long as he was here, he wanted things to be as they had been last night—open and filled with laughter. Yet he couldn’t deny the fact that some desires couldn’t survive in the glaring light of day—they were burned away by the harsh reality of their lives like shadows in the sun.

  She didn’t loosen her fist, so he drew his hand away. She didn’t want him. Or at least, just like him, she was realizing all the reasons she had to close herself off and protect her core. That was what it was—a protective measure. He would be smart to follow her lead.

  “You know Wyatt,” he said, gripping the wheel hard with both hands. “He thinks just ’cause he’s the oldest, he has all the right answers.”

  “What does he think the right answer is when it comes to you and me?”

  He shrugged. “He’s not always right.”

  “So he thinks it’s a bad idea?”

  Waylon wasn’t sure what he wanted to talk about less—her grandmother’s ring being pawned or the state of their relationship—or rather, the lack of, based on the state of things. Both topics seemed to make her tighten up. He would give anything just to make her easy smile return.

  “Some of the greatest things in life have started out as bad ideas.”

  She laughed. The sound was warm, and he found it impossible not to laugh with her and mimic her intoxicating sound. What it would have been like to hear that sound every day.

  “You and I, we’ve done too much living to believe in some idealistic notion that the heart always leads us in the right direction. The heart is a fickle and mercurial thing.”

  “Are you saying you regret what happened last night?” He felt almost at a loss at the fact that he wasn’t the one controlling the conversation and that she was taking the lead in what would undoubtedly be her attempt to push him away.

  She looked down at her fingers. “I know, as I’m sure that you do, too, that last night...it was great, but...”

  “But you don’t want anything more from me?” he said, trying to steel himself against the stinging truth of her words.

  “That’s not it...” She gazed over at him, and there was the faintest hint of tears in her eyes. “It’s just...this...it can’t be. Our lives are too different. You don’t belong here anymore. You have the world at your fingertips. If I asked you to stay, or to come back to me, I’d be asking you to give up the world. I’d never ask that of you.”

  “Then why don’t you come with me?” The words flew out of his mouth without him really thinking about what he was asking her to do.

  “It’s not as simple as that. With everything going on with Winnie and with the ranch...your mom needs me here. My life is here. Besides, if I went with you, what would there be for me to do?”

  “We could be together. What’s more important than that?” The pain that pierced him made its way into his voice, but he didn’t have the power to keep it in check.

  “Waylon, you don’t know me well...”

  “I know you better than you want to admit,” he argued. “I know the face you make when you are truly happy, and the face you make when you think someone you love is in danger.” A tiny smile lighted over his lips as he thought about her standing on the front porch of the main house as he’d landed in the Black Hawk. “And I know how much you try to control every situation in order to keep yourself from getting hurt.”

  She sucked in a breath as though he’d struck a chord. “You’re right, Waylon. I don’t want to get hurt. And I don’t want to get hurt a year from now. Let’s just tell it like it is. I mean, think about it. What would I do while you’re off working every day? What would there be for me at Fort Bragg? And what about Winnie? You can’t think that raising her on a military base would be better than raising her on the ranch.”

  “Plenty of kids grow up on the bases.”

  “Sure, they move from one place to another. They make friends, and then those friends leave.”

  “They grow up strong,” he argued. “They grow up knowing that the only thing they can really rely on is themselves and their family.”

  “Don’t you think that Winnie can grow up just as strong here? Here she would have stability—and that’s something that has been desperately lacking in her life since her mother disappeared.”

  This time, she was the one who was right. Winnie deserved to have the best in life. And maybe Christina had a clearer view of exactly what that was.

  Christina reached over to him, but he wouldn’t let go of the steering wheel. No. He couldn’t let her see his pain. He was too strong for that. He’d already opened himself up too much. He’d been an idiot, and it had been too long since he’d been down this road. He’d almost
forgotten how much it hurt to have himself torn apart.

  There was no possibility of a future. All he could ever have with her was a friendship and thoughts of what might have been if their lives had made their dreams possible.

  He was relieved when they passed the log sign that said Welcome to Flintlock. At least he could get out of the car and away from the conversation that would only lead him farther down a path he didn’t want to travel.

  Flintlock was made up of a railroad track, a gas station, two bars, two churches, a pawnshop and a bank—it was little more than a place in which a road-worn traveler could make a pit stop before getting back on their way. Waylon followed Wyatt into the pawnshop’s parking lot.

  The pawnshop was a squat, square building with shake siding that had little chinks in it where pieces had rotted out and fallen to the ground. The place’s windows were dark, but the Open sign was on, making Wyatt wonder if the windows had been tinted in an effort to mask whatever nefarious deeds normally happened inside.

  He hated the place before he even stepped out of the truck, but he reminded himself that maybe it wasn’t as bad as he assumed—at least they had called in a tip. The owner or an employee could have simply bought the ring or turned Alli away and never reported anything. It would have been easier for them not having to deal with the police.

  At a place like this, probably the last thing they wanted was police to come sniffing around.

  Waylon stepped out of the truck, thankful for an escape from their conversation. Christina shook her head as she got out and followed him over to Wyatt, who was waiting beside his car.

  “A guy named Herb called in the tip. He should still be working. He’s a nice guy, been in this game a long time, but you want to be careful. In fact, I’ll just take the lead on this one. Cool?”

  Waylon nodded, but the last thing he wanted to do was play second fiddle to his brother. Yet this wasn’t his investigation—or his jurisdiction.