Page 8 of Diamond

I don’t look back because now I’m fixated on Diamond’s silhouette.

This woman has my head in a tailspin, and I’ve only laid eyes on her a handful of times.

I walk into the field toward the stables. When I get there, I watch her circle the ring. Her beast is magnificent; they complement each other. The mare is a dark chestnut, majestic as her gallop slows.

“She’s cool to watch, huh?” a male voice says as he comes to stand next to me. Then he holds out one hand. “Dustin, the stable manager.”

I reach my palm to his. “Nash Calloway.”

He pauses, then opens his mouth, then closes it again. With a laugh he says, “Ah, Sheriff Calloway. Yep, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He’s blond with shaggy hair, circa Brad Pitt in his early years.

“I’m sure,” I say. “I’ll bet my name is mud around here.”

He holds up both hands. “Not sayin’ shit, but it’s good to have you in Saddle.”

“I appreciate that—” But that’s all I get to say because Diamond is charging toward us on her horse.

As I watch her, my brain short-circuits. She’s wearing black riding pants, a tank top, and full chaps. Fucking chaps.

My dick hardens the way it always does when I see her; it’s like I have zero control.

“What the fuck are you doing on my property?” she demands the second she comes to a screeching halt.

“Outta here,” Dustin mutters. “Got errands to run.” He backs away, disappearing toward the house.

When I look up at Diamond, she has a face like thunder, but I’m not scared. I see what she’s trying to pull off. I know she isn’t used to being vulnerable, and I don’t expect her to be now, but I also can’t explain this feeling in my heart.

“Here to talk,” I offer calmly. “So don’t shoot the messenger.”

CHAPTER 5

NASH

“You have about five seconds to explain yourself before I do just that.” She challenges me with a glare that is supposed to scare any other mere mortal, but all it does is make my cock ache. What I’d give to have her flat on her back… Or maybe she’d have me flat on mine. Either way, I wouldn’t complain.

“I heard the news,” I say, reaching out to stroke the mare’s head. “And it’s shitty, but we’re figuring out what Lanzetti is really up to. I don’t buy his wind farm story, in fact⁠—”

“We?” Her tone is incredulous. “There is no we, Calloway.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Really? So, you didn’t have Duncan arrest us?”

“Duncan was doing his job, and I maintain what I said before; things have to change around here.”

She narrows her eyes, then swings one leg over and slides off her horse. “I’m done with this conversation.” She leads the mare into the stables, but I follow her.

“Actually, where do you get off?” she demands, turning to look at me. “According to you, our ‘antics’ won’t be tolerated. And whenever the Stilettos are involved, mayhem follows, remember?” She uses her pointer fingers on both hands to emphasize her point.

“I’m here to talk about Lanzetti, the bastard’s a creep. I know that now.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You get two minutes, but I have to see to Gypsy first.” She turns and walks her horse back to her stall. Once inside, she removes the bridle, then the saddle.

“She’s a fine-looking animal,” I observe.

“She’s an American Quarter Horse. The best thing I ever did was rescue her.”