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Chapter One
CONNOR
I bracedmyself as a gust of wind tried to take my feet from under me. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten talked into heading out into the most dramatic storm I’d witnessed since the team’s last Red Sea deployment. Not when I had a good book waiting in my apartment.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning split the sky, illuminating the town in brief, eerie flashes as the rain hammered the streets of Whisper Ridge, turning them into slick, glistening rivers.
I shouldn’t have been going out tonight.
I should’ve used the weather as a reason to stay in my lovely, cozy apartment, not headed up a damn mountain in this deluge for Quinn’s birthday party.
I locked the diner door, pulled my long coat jacket tight, and headed towards my SUV. The relentless downpour muffled all other sounds as my boots splashed through the puddles.
“Connor Mason!” The furious yell cut through the rain as Sheriff Neil Windham—six feet of sexy, blustering,temper-driven man—blocked my way. His face was a thundercloud matching the sky, and my adrenaline spiked when he bunched his fists. I thought for a moment he was going to slam me to the ground.
I’d been waiting all day for him to challenge me, but the party and the storm had derailed my concentration, and here I was caught on the back foot, in the rain, and there he was, a man filled with rage. This was a definite step up from his typical sarcastic irritation with me, straight to DEFCON 1—the kind of anger that made me brace for impact and reach for a weapon I wasn’t even carrying.
I’d been expecting this visit all day. Still, I was hoping the confrontation would happen when it was dry.
In my apartment.
In my bedroom.
Preferably naked and post-sex.
My pulse quickened, not just from anticipating a confrontation but from something deeper, something hidden where all my secrets lay. I couldn’t explain my visceral reaction to this intense man, but I craved his sharp tongue pulling me up on any and all chaos I had caused. My therapist would have a field day analyzing my brain—if I ever went back to therapy. She’d tell me I craved all his attention, even if it was negative, and probably go deep into why I loved pushing his buttons. Facing Neil head-on was a challenge that sparked something deep inside me. Ilivedfor these moments when Neil was angry and when his presence in my space made me feelsomething.
Not that I ever told him that. I pushed and pushed, andwhen he snapped, I soaked up his passionate temper and loved every freaking moment of it because he made me feel…
Alive.
I squared my shoulders, ready to meet whatever he was bringing in the madness of the storm.
“Tell me you didn’t threaten Abraham Wild!” The fury in his tone was like catnip.
Rain dripped from the brim of my cap, and I pulled up the hood of my coat—not that it helped, given it wasn’t completely waterproof. “I didn’t threaten Abraham Wild.”
I did.
“Witnesses tell me you took his gun from him and shoved him to the ground.”
“He had a rifle, yeah, I disarmed him, but he was drunk and about to fall over anyway.”
“You took his gun andassaultedhim.”
“He tripped,” I replied, raising my voice to be heard over another rumble of thunder.
“I don’t have time for your shit!” Neil’s eyes blazed with anger; his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You told him that if he didn’t stop waving his gun, then you’d shove the gun up his ass.”
“Yep, that was me. Now, are you mad I said that, that he tripped, or that there were witnesses?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and I could see him reining in his temper. “He’s accusingyouof being armed.”
I tapped my lip in exaggerated thought. “Well, Iwasarmed after I took his rifle.”
“Give me strength.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and swiped away a face full of water.
I snorted a laugh, then spread my hands wide, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. “Anyway, you know I don’t need to carry.”
