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I wished the high of confrontation and temper stayed, and that I didn’t feel so lost.
Fuck. How far do I need to push him to get what I want?
Chapter Two
NEIL
I’d almost kissed Connor.
I’d almost grabbed him and lost myself in a passionate kiss right there in the middle of town, crossing that final bridge between attraction and lust all because I was angrier than I’d ever been. He’d pushed me too damn far.
The tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed wannabe Superman had been a thorn in my side since he’d rolled into town. The first time, he’d visited as a PI on the hunt for people who didn’t want to be found. Then he’d come back, the next time working for our resident millionaire, Quinn. What was supposed to be a temporary stay had become a permanent fixture, much to my constant frustration, because he was chaos one moment and icy focus the next, and I didn’t know where I stood when I was with him.
I lacked control in everything to do with Connor Mason, and I hated it.
He was everywhere, getting involved with everything, from minor disputes to major incidents, and it seemed like every time I arrived at a scene, there he was, gettingin the way. His intentions might have been good, trying to fix things and watch out for Quinn, but this was a quiet town with little crime, and his execution often left much to be desired. He was Rambo when situations called for diplomacy and a softer touch.
He was my nemesis in every possible way. Whenever I tried to handle a situation, he acted as if he were still on a mission in some foreign theater of war. He couldn’t let me do my job, often making things more complicated than they needed to be.
No, I didn’t need to arrest the kids who’d defaced the grocery store wall. I needed to work with families, the community, and their schools to develop plans to stop the defacing of private property.
No, I didn’t need to go in guns blazing to the shack on the far reaches of Lennox property when I knew from checking that it was just old man Browne who liked to spend weeks in isolation up there.
No, I had no grounds to take away Abraham Wild’s rifle—unassailable rights and all—unless I had actual grounds and witnesses.
Connor didn’t know Whisper Ridge like I did.
When the town faced a problem, he would dive in headfirst, sometimes without fully understanding the local dynamics or the best approach. It was maddening—his relentless need to fix things that didn’t need touching, his inability to stand down when it wasn’t his place, and my being stuck between upholding the law and managing the chaos he so often brought with him.
“Fuck,” I cursed loudly, kicking the fence. I compressed all my anger and lack of self-control into asmall ball I could manage, breathing through the frustration.
And the lust.
It was infuriating to feel this way about someone who constantly got in my way and messed things up for law enforcement. The man was exasperating, yet the thought of him consumed me.
Touching him.
Kissing him.
More.
Lusting after Connor was a betrayal of my principles, a maddening twist of fate that left me questioning my judgment. How could I want someone who made my job more difficult, threw everything into disarray, and thought heading in with metaphorical guns blazing was always the right decision? I had a constant battle between my responsibilities as sheriff and the undeniable attraction simmering beneath the surface. Each encounter with Connor was a struggle to maintain control, focus on the job, and not act on the heat that flared whenever he was near.
Did I want himbecausehe caused chaos?
Did I admire him?
“I don’t want to kiss him!” I added to the fence and then steeled myself to go inside.
My phone vibrated, and I yanked it out of my pocket—Mom.
“Is everything okay?” I answered instead of exchanging pleasantries.
Mom wasn’t the best at calling, more of a face-to-face talker, and I’d already checked on her and Dad when thestorm started. Their house was sheltered, and last I knew, they were hunkering down for the night and taking things easy.
“Your dad…” she began. “Can you come?”
“What happened?”
