All thoughts of food were put on hold. What was she doing? She couldn’t stay here, could she? She couldn’t think about giving a relationship with a sheriff an honest try. He didn’t even know her real name.
“I mean he’s paranoid,” Callie was saying. “But you’re good. You passed the background check. Once your plates clear, and he’s sure you’re not a serial killer, you’ll find him to be the nicest guy ever. Of course, Mel might still think you’re an alien, but I have a test for that, too.”
Callie continued, but Rachel’s vision had shifted. Everything was a little blurry as she realized Rye Harper had already proven her point. She couldn’t trust him. God, what did he already know? Had he called around? Her current license listed her address as Houston, but cops shared info all the time. Was Tommy already on his way?
Rachel stood up, ignoring Callie’s surprised look. She walked to the counter and picked up her keys. Stella called out, but Rachel didn’t respond. She walked out the door and got into the Jeep. She would leave. No goodbyes, no last paychecks. She would point her Jeep to the north and head for Wyoming. She would drive past Denver because it was too close to the Harper twins for comfort. She would dump the Rachel Swift ID. When she had enough cash, she would make her way to Chicago and lose herself in the city. She wouldn’t make friends. She wouldn’t talk to anyone unless she had to. She sure as hell wouldn’t fall for another man. She turned the car around. She felt tears running down her face. How could he have done that to her?
She stopped at the red light. Something made her turn her head. She wanted one last look at Bliss. And then she saw him. Rye Harper was walking out of the sheriff’s office. He stretched and yawned, pulling his big body this way and that way. His eyes caught sight of her and lit up. There was a wide smile on his too sexy mouth, and his hand came up in greeting.
Suddenly, she just had to wipe that smile off his face. Jerking the car into park and pulling the keys out, Rachel opened the door and descended on the man who had just wrecked her life.
Chapter Six
Rye yawned as he walked into the sunshine. It was turning out to be a lazy day. No alien invasions. No complaints from the tourists about naked hikers. No bombs going off on the Farley land from out of control science experiments. It was a good thing, too, because he had a headache from drowning his sorrows the previous night. His stomach growled. A burger from Stella’s was what he needed. A little grease and his stomach would settle right down. If he hurried, he could catch up with Callie.
Rye turned as a battered Jeep stopped at the stop light in front of his office. He caught sight of Rachel’s strawberry blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. His breath hitched at the sight of her. God damn, he cursed inwardly, even as he felt a dippy smile cross his face. It was like she was the freaking sun. He felt his hand come up to wave at her.
She slammed her car door shut. She was wearing a tight white T-shirt and jeans that hugged her every curve. Her breasts were gloriously round and jiggled as she walked toward him. Her hips swayed. His hands itched to walk straight up to her and drag that hot body against his. He would grind his erection against her and force her to come at least twice before he shoved her over and shoved his cock inside. He would ride that pussy until he finally couldn’t take another second and then…oh, then, he would come. He would flood her with every last drop he had in his balls.
Damn it, he had an erection right in the middle of the street, and now he had to talk to her. Rye finally got a good look at Rachel’s face and took a step back. She looked righteously pissed, and all that anger seemed to be directed at him.
“You asshole!” She stalked across the distance between them.
Her anger practically vibrated through the air. Rye knew he should ask what was wrong, but something about the way she was coming at him got his back up. Not just his back, his cock was straining, too. She wanted to fight. He could fucking fight. He hadn’t done anything but facilitate her relationship with his brother and offer her his protection. He wasn’t about to take her shit.
“You want to move that car, Ms. Swift?” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his best lawman stare.
It made her stop in her tracks, but only briefly. “What are you going to do, Sheriff? Give me a ticket? Lock me up?”
He could think of a few things he would do. None of them had anything to do with jail. “Maybe I’ll just spank that ass of yours, sweetheart.”
He shouldn’t have said it, but the words were out of his mouth before he could think twice. It was exactly what he’d do if she was his woman. If she belonged to him and she’d pulled this shit, he would lay her out over his knee, and she wouldn’t get up again until she’d nicely apologized.
“What did you say?” She practically growled the question at him. Her eyes narrowed, and she held her ground.
Rye towered over her. “I said I would spank that little ass of yours red, darlin’.”
“I think Max might have something to say about that.” She shot the words at him, but there was a telltale trembling to her voice. He would bet everything he had that she wasn’t entirely put off by the prospect of getting over his knee.
Max would watch if their relationship was on a normal footing. For all his anger issues, Max was softer than Rye when it came to sex. It didn’t mean Max didn’t enjoy playing a few games. He’d spanked a perky little ass on more than one occasion. “You push Max like you’re pushing me, and he’ll understand.”
Her eyes flared briefly before she hardened them to flinty green stones. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m leaving. Don’t worry about me screwing up your perfect world anymore.”
She started to turn, and Rye’s arm shot out. He was running on pure emotion. She was leaving? Not on his watch. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
She pulled against him, setting her sneakers solidly against the road. “It’s none of your fucking business, Sheriff. Let me go.”
Not on his life. Rye looked around and realized they were stopping traffic. Rachel’s car could wait. He needed to figure out what the hell had turned her into a raging maniac, and he couldn’t do it in public. Without letting go of her arm, he leaned down and slid his free arm beneath her leg. He hauled her up against his chest and strode back toward the sheriff’s office. No one was in there. They could yell at each other in perfect privacy.
He kicked the door open and walked her back to the small confines of his office. He set her down and swiftly blocked the door. “Now, do you want to be reasonable about this, or should I get ready to administer a little discipline?”
Her face was red, and her small hands were clenched into fists at her sides. “You let me go right now, or I swear I will sue you for everything you’re worth.”
“Feel free,” Rye shot back. “Take me for everything I’m worth. You’re not leaving.”
“You can’t keep me, asshole.”
“Watch me.” He leaned back against the door. “And watch your language, Rachel. You curse me one more time, and I won’t give a damn that you belong to Max. I will pull those jeans down and leave an imprint of my hand on your ass.”
“You’re a big man to threaten a woman, aren’t you?”
Rye laughed. “Yeah, poor little Rachel. You’re so downtrodden.” Tears filled her eyes, and Rye practically melted. He took a step toward her, his hands curving over her shoulders. “Baby, I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t hurt you. It’s a game. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please tell me why you want to leave. I promise I’ll make it all right.” All of his anger evaporated like someone had taken a pin to a balloon, popping it, deflating him. He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her into his arms.