An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Seeing Blind ISBN 9781419914942 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Seeing Blind Copyright © 2008 Katie Allen Edited by Mary Altman. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication March 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
SEEING BLIND Katie Allen
Dedication For Liza-Dude, my fave of all the sisters.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Nancy Drew: Simon & Schuster, Inc. X-Men: Marvel Characters Inc.
Seeing Blind
Chapter One It had started out as such a good day. Such a simple day. The sun was out, the horses had been surprisingly cooperative and the truck had grumbled to life on the first try. Cassie sang along to the radio as she muscled the vehicle around turns, not even longing for power steering as she normally did when driving her lumbering beast of a truck. It may not be pretty or easy to drive or reliable, she thought with a fond pat on the grimy dash, but it was paid for and started most of the time. Okay, some of the time, at least, Cassie conceded, her sense of reality overcoming her optimism. A green SUV, almost as ancient as her pickup, was headed toward her. Cassie shifted the truck over to hug the right side of the narrow gravel road and eased to a stop, holding her breath when the engine threatened to stall. Her luck held and the truck idled grudgingly as she turned off the radio and cranked down her window. “Hey, Dan,” she called with a sunny smile. “How’s it going?” “Pretty damn poorly,” he grumped, his face creased with cranky lines. “Cows were out again?” Cassie didn’t know why she asked—it was a rare day that the cows weren’t out. Dan’s eyebrows met in a bushy white line as he nodded shortly. “Stupid animals. I should get a job in town, is what I should do. Get my paycheck every two weeks, get some health insurance and not be spending all my money on fencing that those damn cows just walk through.” Cassie nodded sympathetically, hiding her surprise that he spent any money at all on his fencing. It looked as if he just used whatever was lying around his property— odd strands of wire, mismatched boards, miscellaneous pieces of metal. One section of fence was his old front door. “It’s a hard job you’ve got,” she agreed, earning a half-mollified grunt and wave from Dan as he pulled past. Cassie cranked up her window to block the dust from the gravel road—not that the interior of truck could get much dirtier, she thought with a resigned shrug. She clicked the radio back on as she sped up, the back of Dan’s SUV shrinking in her rearview mirror. Only a few seconds passed before the vision hit her, snapping her head back. Her foot hit the brake instinctively, stomping down so hard that the wheels locked up and the truck skidded, flinging gravel backward before it slid to a shuddering halt. The engine rattled and died, but Cassie didn’t even notice, her eyes fixed forward, her face still. The images were starkly clear, frozen in place like a photograph, the colors so intense that it hurt to see them. It was a blue and white kitchen, mercilessly lit by an
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overhead light, with a fridge covered in children’s art and family pictures, a granitetopped island littered with small stacks of bills and a calendar, and herbs lining the night-darkened window above the sink. Everything was achingly normal—everything except the woman sprawled on the ceramic tile floor, her red hair fanned around her purple-tinted face. “Cassie!” The pounding on the window made the image collapse and she could see the real world again. Cassie turned her head slowly, blinking, to stare uncomprehendingly at Dan’s worried face. She fumbled to lower the window, her brain still foggy. “Dan?” “What happened? Are you okay?” Dan asked, staring at her. “What?” The words didn’t make any sense at first, and she shook her head to clear it. “I mean, I’m fine. Why?” “Why? Are you crazy, girl? I thought you hit something at first, you stopped so fast, but I came over and you’re staring at nothing, not seeing me or hearing me or anything.” As he saw that she was okay, Dan’s panic settled into indignation. “I’m knocking on the window, yelling, and you don’t even see me for a good couple of minutes.” Realization sank in, souring Cassie’s stomach. She pushed away the enormity of what happened, aware that her neighbor was still waiting for an explanation. “Sorry, Dan. Sometimes I have these…episodes.” “You mean a seizure? Should you be driving if you get those?” He eyed her with a mix of concern and disapproval. “No, not a seizure—more of a…really bad headache. I thought I was better.” She had. After more than two years of being vision-free, she had allowed herself to begin to hope that it was permanent, that she could be permanent. “Huh. Don’t seem safe for you to be driving.” “I know. I just need to get to town to…” What was she going to tell him? That she had to get to town to warn Carol Knight, an almost stranger, that Cassie had seen her future death? “Pick up my medication. That I take. For my headaches. So I don’t get them.” As she babbled, she rolled the window up to block Dan’s frowning objections and frantically attempted to restart the stalled truck. It whined and grumbled, causing nervous sweat to pop out on Cassie’s forehead before the engine reluctantly caught. With a quick exhale of relief and a false smile of reassurance to her neighbor, she accelerated, leaving a scowling Dan behind in the cloud of dust and exhaust.
***** Cassie drove into Napping, a true one-stoplight town. Although she was a relative newcomer, having only lived at her place for two years, she knew pretty much
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everyone who lived there, at least by name. Carol Knight lived two blocks off the main street, which was, appropriately enough, called Main Street. Cassie let the truck ease to a halt at the curb in front of the Knights’ house. She stared at their storybook-perfect home, blue with heart-shaped cutouts on the shutters and an actual, honest-to-God white picket fence. Before she moved to Napping, Cassie had always figured that white picket fences were a movie prop or a relic of the Fifties that should be displayed in a museum. Chewing her thumbnail, she tried to organize her thoughts. Her brain was still swirling with the shock of the vision, and she had to figure out how to tell Carol. Or even what to tell Carol. It wasn’t like Cassie could just ring the doorbell and announce, “I’m psychic and you’re going to die.” She could count the number of conversations they had shared on one hand—theirs was more of a polite-nod-at-the-grocery-store type of relationship than it was a share-stories-of-upcoming-death one. Her thumb was starting to hurt, so Cassie switched to her other thumbnail. Maybe this was a natural occurrence, something she couldn’t stop—a heart attack, perhaps, she considered hopefully. Even as she thought it, Cassie knew that it wasn’t true. The vision had shown Carol’s bulging eyes, terrified even in death, and her protruding tongue. Her skin was the wrong color too. Even though Cassie didn’t even like to watch shows about cops or forensics or crime solving, she did know enough to guess that Carol would be strangled. Would her husband do it, Cassie wondered. Jeff seemed so mild-mannered; he was a computer geek who commuted over an hour to his job so that he and Carol could stay in their hometown and their son could grow up in a safe, friendly place. It was hard to picture Jeff harboring the murderous rage needed to strangle his wife. Cassie realized that she was stalling. There was no easy or sane-sounding way to announce something like this to someone who was basically a stranger. Cassie figured that she should be used to this. It wasn’t like this was the first time she had to share one of her visions with someone who was sure to be skeptical. Taking a deep breath, she yanked on the door handle and forced herself out of the truck. “Cassie.” She jumped and whirled around at the deep voice, feeling oddly guilty. For God’s sake, she thought impatiently, it’s not as if you’re going to kill her. When she realized who had said her name, her heartbeat sped up again, this time for a different reason. “Sheriff,” she greeted him, striving for a calm tone, but her voice came out squeaky. He climbed out of the SUV that he must have parked behind her truck while she was deep in thought. Cassie always forgot how big the sheriff was until he was standing in front of her. Not that she tried to stand next to him on a regular basis. In fact, she went out of her way to avoid him. Sheriff Henry Tyson and the really good way he smelled did strange things to her equilibrium. “How are you doing, Cass?” he asked casually. He was watching her with sleepy eyes, but Cassie was pretty sure he didn’t miss a thing. Through a sheer effort of will,
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she kept herself from looking down at her jeans and tank top, almost certainly grimy from barn chores and the dusty trip to town. Of all the days not to take a shower before venturing out, her traitorous mind wailed. “Fine,” she said cautiously, not sure what to make of this sudden interest from the sheriff. He had an odd way of showing up in her dreams, usually naked, but in real life he kept his distance. “I got a call from Dan. He was a little concerned about you.” The pieces clicked together in Cassie’s brain. Annoying, nosy neighbors. “I’m fine. Dan’s overreacting. I was just…distracted for a moment.” The sleepy eyes stayed steady on her face. “He said you almost had an accident. He mentioned a seizure?” Cassie shook her head impatiently. “It wasn’t a seizure. Like I said, I’m fine, Dan’s overreacting, you can go back to…fighting crime or giving out tickets or whatever you need to do and I’m going to talk to Carol, who is going to come running out here any minute now thinking that something happened to her kid at school once she sees you here in front of her house.” One corner of his full mouth tugged up in amusement, flooding Cassie with a rush of heat. Flustered, she turned away from Ty and blindly headed for the Knight’s front door. Her worry about what to tell Carol had been knocked aside by the sheriff and his closeness and his wicked smile. “She’s not here,” he called after her. Cassie stopped. After taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, she turned back to the sheriff and raised an eyebrow. “She and Jeff took their kid up north for the week. They left yesterday.” Ty had propped his heavy shoulders against the cab of her truck—he obviously wasn’t going anywhere. Oh well, Cassie thought, at least that spot on the truck was going to be clean. “She’s gone?” Cassie repeated. She knew she sounded like an idiot, but she was trying to process the fact that what she had seen so vividly was not true—at least for a week. Her visions had led her astray before, but this one had seemed so obvious— Carol, dead, kitchen. How could she have misinterpreted that? Ty pushed away from the pickup. “What’s going on, Cass?” She shook her head. “Nothing. Honestly. I’m just having an off day. Hey, listen—it was good to see you, Sheriff, but I have to be going.” If she was going to figure this out, it wasn’t going to be in the presence of the extremely hot and distracting Ty. Cassie took a step toward the truck, which also brought her uncomfortably close to the broad chest blocking her escape. “Why don’t you let me drive you over to the medical center in Mortonville, let them check you out?” The sheriff wasn’t moving. “Because nothing’s wrong with me—well, medically, at least.” Cassie blew out an impatient breath. Gorgeous he may be, but she was discovering that Ty could also be a
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definite pain in the ass. She tried to move around him to the door of the truck, but he shifted over to block her way. “I’m not doing this to harass you, Cassie. I just don’t want to be called out later and find you went off the road because of another seizure.” “It was not a seizure,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. She was going to kill her meddling neighbor when she saw him again. “I was thinking about something and didn’t hear Dan. I guess I’m getting good at tuning him out.” “Huh.” Ty’s grunt was skeptical. “Thinking about something made you almost drive your truck off the road?” “I didn’t—” Cassie stopped and took a deep breath, trying for a more rational approach. “I did stop quickly, yes. I did sit for a moment, staring off into space. That was it. You know me, Ty—do you think I would endanger other people on the road if I thought it wasn’t safe for me to drive?” The sheriff held her gaze for a few agonizingly long seconds. His eyes were a blue so light they almost looked colorless, like looking through an ice cube. “No, I don’t think you would hurt anyone, Cass, but something’s up and you’re not telling me the whole story.” Cassie dropped her own eyes at that and stared intently at one of the buttons on his uniform shirt. “How did you know I was going to be at Carol’s house?” she asked, more to change the subject from what she was—or was not—telling the sheriff. His mouth curled up at one corner again. “Dan mentioned you were headed to town. Town’s not that big. When you weren’t on the other five streets, I tried this one. Why do you need to see Carol?” Shrugging, Cassie pretended nonchalance but groaned inwardly. She couldn’t seem to keep herself out of conversational traps today. “Ah, you know. Woman things. Stuff. Nothing important. I’m going to stop by Ginger’s for some lunch—want to come?” The second that the words were out, Cassie wanted to suck them back in. It was one thing to lust after the luscious sheriff for two years, to say hello when she saw him in town, pretending as if her hands didn’t sweat at the thought of him, but to ask him out? Was she insane? A slight flush of red spread across Ty’s cheekbones under his tan. Was he blushing, Cassie wondered, amazed. He pushed his hat back a little, resettling it on his head, and cleared his throat before answering. “Sure. That’d be…ah. Good. That’d be good.” “Good.” Inwardly, Cassie rolled her eyes. It appeared that both their vocabularies had been reduced to a single word. “I mean, great. So…can I get into my truck now?” Ty glanced behind him as if he was surprised to see the vehicle. “Sure,” he muttered, stepping aside, and Cassie almost laughed. She had never seen the sheriff so discomposed. “Right,” he said, fiddling with his hat again. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”
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“Positive. I swear that I will not run over anyone in the two and a half blocks to the diner.” She placed her hand over her heart in solemn promise, drawing another lethally sweet half-smile out of Ty. “You better not,” he growled. “I’ll be right behind you, and that would be a ticket for sure.” Cassie laughed and swung into the truck, a little dazed by the twists and turns of the day. It had started out so pleasant and normal—the sun was shining, the birds were singing, Dan’s cows were out. Just like any other day. Then the lovely ordinariness was shattered by psychic visions of murder, rumors of epilepsy and a date with the beautiful, unattainable sheriff—and all before lunch. What else could happen to her today?
***** Ginger’s casual glance when they entered the diner turned positively gleeful when she saw them. “Here we go,” Ty muttered, his tone resigned, lightly steering Cassie into an empty booth with a broad hand on her lower back. She hardly heard him with the warmth from his hand spreading along her spine. It had been so long—years—since she had felt another person’s touch that she had forgotten the power of it, the ability of the casual pressure of a man’s hand to make moisture pool between her thighs at the same time her throat choked up. “Hmm?” Cassie asked, but by that time, Ginger had pounced. “Sheriff, sweetie, I never thought you would get up the nerve,” she exclaimed, practically quivering in excitement. “I thought you were going to just sit on your ass until all your manly parts just shriveled up to nothing!” “Ginger!” Ty protested, blood rushing to his face. Choking back a laugh, Cassie patted the other woman on the arm. “Hey, Ginger. How’re you doing?” “Pretty damn well, now.” She turned to a giggling Cassie. “I kept telling him, ‘Grow a pair and ask her out’. I just never thought he’d do it. Thank God he did—if I had to see that moony expression one more time… Anyway, do you guys want the chicken or the chipped beef?” Cassie was laughing so hard that she could hardly talk, but she managed to sputter out, “Chicken, please.” “The beef, Ginger. Thank you,” Ty said with a long-suffering sigh, his face as red as the ketchup bottle on the table. “No problem. Hopefully you’re a better tipper now that you’re getting some,” Ginger tossed back over her shoulder as she walked away, to the great amusement of the other diners.
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Ty looked injured. “What does she mean? I’m always a good tipper,” he protested, setting Cassie off again. “Oh, Lord,” she sighed, wiping her eyes and sitting back. “You’ve got to love Ginger.” “You do?” Ty grunted in disbelief, but the one-sided smile was back, making Cassie’s heart beat faster. “So, now that you know all my secrets, why don’t you share some of yours?” “Mine?” Cassie played with the saltshaker, turning it over in her fingers. “No secrets here.” “Hah. You’ve been the town’s main source of conversation since you moved here. Where are you from again?” Although her stomach twisted at the thought of being the focus of town gossip, Cassie kept her answer light. “Denver. And before that, Tampa. And before that, Chicago.” The light eyes were fixed on her again. Cassie didn’t think she had ever seen more unnerving eyes before. He had taken his hat off when they entered the diner, and his blond hair, clipped close to his head, caught the random streaks of sunlight that squeezed through the window blinds. Her fingers tightened on the saltshaker as Cassie resisted an urge to touch. “Like the cities, do you?” he asked, bringing her attention back to his face. She shrugged. “I moved here because I was sick of cities—too many people around all the time. Sometimes, you just want to run outside to the garden in your underwear, you know?” His light eyes narrowed as Ty digested that. Leaning toward her, his voice low and heated, he said, “I’ll have to swing by your place more often. To keep an eye out for…anything suspicious.” Flushing, Cassie dropped her gaze and shifted against the seat. She was in trouble if it only took a look and a few words from Ty to reduce her to a quivering lump. Clearing her throat, she tried to lighten the thick tension simmering between them. “Actually, there’s no running around in underwear—Dan’s place is a little too close for that. I don’t think he would be able to look me in the face again if he saw me naked.” Ty laughed and sat back. “Dan’s crazy about you. Goes on and on about the rhubarb cake you bring him.” “He pays me back in parts for my truck,” Cassie said, relaxing back against the booth now that the conversation had turned away from her potential nudity. “As neighbors go, I got pretty lucky.” “Except for those damn cows of his. The people who lived at your place before you were calling all the time, complaining that his cows were on their front porch.” Cassie nodded. “Dan told me about the previous owners. I thought that they called you to complain about the cows smelling like…well, cows.”
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“That too. They complained about pretty much everything and ended up moving back to St. Paul. City people are a pain in the ass.” “Thanks,” Cassie said, mock-insulted. Smiling, Ty brushed the back of her hand with his rough fingers. “You acclimated well, for a city girl.” A dart of pleasure shot up her arm and Cassie dipped her head to hide her reaction. “Tell me,” she asked, her voice carefully light, “what are our chatty townspeople saying about me?” Ty shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual. It sparks people’s interest when someone new comes to town. Especially when that person doesn’t appear to be—” He floundered for a word. “Well, gainfully employed.” Cassie wondered exactly what “the usual” entailed but didn’t want to press him for details. She didn’t need the Sheriff of all people getting curious about her. Another addition to the conversational minefield, she thought, her brain scrambling around for a safe topic of conversation. “Here you go.” Ginger plunked down the plates of food in front of them. “Need anything else?” “Nope, looks good,” Cassie said cheerily, wanting to kiss Ginger for her perfect timing. With a wink at Ty, Ginger retreated to the counter. “So,” Cassie began casually, although a quiver of laughter hid in her voice, “you moon over me?” A flash of red climbed Ty’s neck. “Well, shit,” he muttered. “Thought you forgot about that.” “Why didn’t you ask me out?” she asked, watching him curiously. Before Ginger had enlightened her, Cassie had thought that the mooning had all been one-sided— hers. “Yeah, well.” He fiddled with his fork, poking at his food. “Guess I’m just out of practice.” She took a bite, using the chewing time to work up her nerve. “You could practice on me, if you like.” Ty’s fork stilled and his eyes hooked hers in a look so hot that her stomach dissolved. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough enough to vibrate through her. “I’d like.”
***** Driving home, Cassie wiggled on the seat to ease the ache that had settled between her legs, throbbing with each heartbeat. On the surface, the rest of their lunch had passed with light conversation, but she had felt the tension underneath, as if a taut rope stretched between them. Ty didn’t touch her, except for a hand on her back to escort her out of the diner, but heat underscored every movement, every word. By the time the sheriff had opened her pickup door for her and held it while she climbed into the 12
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driver’s seat, Cassie was ready to drag him into the cab with her, rip off his uniform and have her way with him. At that thought, she let out a small groan and shifted again. The worst part was that he hadn’t even set a second date, so she had no idea when they were actually going to have sex—uh, that was, when she would see him again, Cassie corrected mentally. “Oh, who am I fooling,” she muttered, frustration rippling through her as she moved against the seat again. The next time she saw the sheriff, there was definitely going to be some jumping of the bones. He still hadn’t wanted her driving home. She had assured him, once again, that she was fine and he had reluctantly let her go. That thought reminded her of the image of Carol’s body, sprawled on her kitchen floor. It was a relief that Carol was going to be gone for a week. As long as she wasn’t in her house, she couldn’t be strangled in her kitchen, Cassie reasoned. The Knights’ vacation would give her some time to figure out a way to stop Carol’s murder without anyone knowing about Cassie’s abilities. The idea of anyone in Napping knowing that she was psychic made her fingers clutch the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles blanched white. This couldn’t be another Chicago, or Tampa, or Denver, she thought in panic. She had a farm, and hay to bale, and horses and maybe even a chance to see the smoking-hot sheriff naked, for God’s sake. Disappearing wasn’t an option anymore.
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Chapter Two The nightmares were just that—nightmares. She was pretty good at knowing the difference between a vision and an everyday, run-of-the-mill nightmare, but, at one in the morning, Cassie didn’t really care—she just wanted them to stop. As she moved through the house toward the kitchen, she turned on all the lights she passed—nothing like banishing the ugly, middle-of-the-night fears with some artificial sunlight, she thought, switching on the overhead light in the kitchen. This is definitely an ice cream situation, she decided, pulling a carton out of the freezer. Nothing like a sugar high to ward off bad dreams, she thought wryly, prying off the lid. Or at least keep her awake. She had just dug out her first bite when the doorbell rang, startling her so badly that she almost fell off the side of her chair. Checking the clock to make sure that it really was the ungodly hour that she thought—it was—she moved to the front door. She couldn’t see who stood on the porch, but the sheriff’s SUV in the driveway gave it away. Her stomach leapt with nerves and a thrill of pleasure as she pulled open the door. “Something wrong, Sheriff?” she asked, leaning against the edge of the door in what she hoped was a relaxed and casual pose. “I was going to ask you that same question,” he replied, his eyes passing down her body and back up again. “Are you having a party that you didn’t invite me to?” It was hard to concentrate on his words when his gaze was making her nipples tighten against the silky fabric of her camisole. “What?” she asked, distracted. A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “The lights? All of them? At—” He glanced at his watch. “1:26? In the morning?” “Well, I wouldn’t need them at one in the afternoon, now would I?” Cassie asked crankily. The initial rush of nervous excitement at the sight of Ty had settled and Cassie felt worked up and off-guard and exposed in her thin camisole and drawstring pajama pants—the ones with pink frogs printed on them, of course. Cassie’s lust-fuddled brain had cleared just enough to realize that she hadn’t glanced in a mirror after nightmares drove her out of bed. Only pure strength of will kept her hands from flying to her hair. Pure strength of will, that was, and not wanting to know what tornado-esque shape the white-blonde strands had worked themselves into. As much as she liked the sheriff, there was something to be said about a little warning—and some prep time.
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Despite her undoubtedly tousled look, Ty did not show any signs of leaving. “Most people don’t need them at one in the morning, either—because of the whole sleep thing.” The memory of her nightmares distracted Cassie from her less-than-perfect appearance. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and shrugged. “I had some trouble sleeping.” “Does this happen a lot?” “I—oh, for God’s sake, this is silly. If you’re not going to leave, you might as well come in.” Cassie stepped out of the way, ignoring his grin at her ungracious invitation, and Ty followed her into the kitchen. “I don’t have any coffee—sorry. Do you want some tea or…actually, unless you want water, that’s about all I’ve got. Guess it must be time to get to the grocery store.” Cassie made an apologetic face over her shoulder and caught Ty in the act of staring at her ass. “Are you staring at my ass?” she asked. Apparently, a lack of sleep made her thoughts-to-words filter disappear. Ty flushed red and his eyes jerked back to her face. “I—um…” he stuttered, and Cassie waved a hand at him. “I’m not objecting, I’m just surprised,” she told him, twisting so that she could peer over her own shoulder and see it herself. “I never thought that it was stare-worthy.” “Very stare-worthy,” Ty assured her. His voice had gone gravelly again, and suddenly the kitchen felt tiny. Cassie hurried to sit at the table, hiding the object of discussion. Pulling another chair out, Ty settled himself down, stretching his legs out in front of him until they were just inches from hers. There was just so much of him, Cassie thought, curling her bare feet beneath her chair. He made the perfectly normal-sized wooden chair look miniature. “What are you doing out here at this time of night—and not in uniform?” she asked, trying to distract herself as thoughts about his large size morphed into thoughts about other potentially large body parts, which did strange things to her breathing. “Just checking up. I worked late tonight and thought I would just swing by. Make sure you were okay, after your…problem earlier today—yesterday, I guess it is, now.” “Problem?” It took a few seconds to register what Ty was talking about. “There was no problem. Honestly. And Dan’s blabbing mouth is never going to see another piece of my rhubarb cake again.” “Oh, come on now. No need to cut him off completely,” Ty coaxed. “He was just worried, that’s all.” Cassie shrugged and reached over to put the lid on the ice cream carton. She got up to put it back in the freezer, grateful for an excuse to move away from the sheriff’s sprawled form. Even with several feet separating them, she could feel the heat radiating off him, tempting her closer. The freezer air drifted against her heated cheeks and she used the chilly moment to try to refocus. If she wasn’t careful, Cassie’s brain warned
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her lusting body, she would end up curled in his lap. But what would be wrong with that, her body wailed. Okay, so frigid air was not going to work. Besides, the idea was to convince the sheriff that she was not crazy, and this would not be accomplished by staring into her freezer for endless moments as her body and brain bickered. She turned back toward him as she shut the freezer door, forcing a nervous smile as she headed for her chair. She could feel the warmth of him as she passed, and her fingers twitched with the need to touch him. Cassie kept her hands firmly by her sides. Logic and reason were going to win out over lust, she resolved. “Cass,” Ty interrupted her internal argument between body parts, catching her hand with his before she could make it back to her chair. Cassie could only look at him, focused on the way his fingers and palm felt wrapped around hers, rough and hot and careful. The sting of attraction shot up her arm, through her chest and down to her pussy in small, electric pulses. “Cass, why won’t you tell me what is going on?” he asked. She struggled to breathe, to catch a few of her flailing thoughts and straighten them into some kind of order, but everything had narrowed to him, his clear, light eyes and the gentle trap of his hand around hers. For a moment, she weakened, tempted to open her mouth and just let the words pour out, but the idea jolted her back to reality. Tell him everything, her mind warned, and he’ll leave. Immediately. And Cassie realized that she really, really did not want Ty to leave. In a desperate attempt to block the words threatening to spill out, Cassie leaned in and kissed him. His lips were soft and full and she felt his slight start of surprise. Cassie began to pull back, a little shocked by her own daring and the actual feel of him. The reality of the kiss, after two years of imagining what it would be like, was startling. Cool air brushed between them for only a second before he wrapped a thick arm around her hips, yanking her into him until she was straddling his lap, feeling the rough press of his jeans through her thin cotton pajama pants. His fingers drove through her hair and shaped around her skull, ruthlessly holding her head in place as he took over the kiss. The heat of him was incredible, welding their bodies together. Any hesitation, any shyness, had evaporated and Ty kissed her fiercely, his lips and tongue and teeth clashing with hers. Cassie, after a brief, stunned moment, matched him kiss for kiss, wrapping her arms and legs around his broad torso. Ty growled at her response and pressed her closer, flattening his hand against her back and sliding his palm up her spine under her camisole. Her nerve endings jumped to life at the hot, rough brush against her back, making her skin shiver, almost too sensitized to bear his touch but craving more at the same time. Cassie shuddered as the sensations tore through her and she dug her teeth into Ty’s lower lip. He growled and surged to his feet, Cassie still wrapped around him, and the chair tipped over backward, clattering against the hard-tiled floor. Immediately contrite
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about hurting him, Cassie tried to pull back to see his face, but he pinned her against the edge of the counter and kissed her again, a wild, unstoppable force. Relieved, she caressed his small injury with her tongue, apologizing without words. Ty groaned silently, the vibrations from the sound shivering through him and into her. His touch gentled and the kiss lightened, slowed. Ty’s hand burrowed beneath her camisole again to stroke her lower back, making her shudder against him. His fingers slipped lower, tucking beneath the edge of her pajama pants and following her spine downward with the bare brush of his fingertips until they notched into the dent below her tailbone. Sucking in a breath, Cassie tightened her muscles, clamping her legs around his hips to pull him even closer to her. As he nipped at her lips, soothing the tiny sting with his tongue, Ty burrowed his hand between them. His questing fingers tugged at the end of the drawstring holding her pajamas in place. Cassie felt the waistband loosen and Ty took advantage of the greater access, sliding his fingers more deeply between the cheeks of her ass, finding and circling the tight entrance of her anus with a gentle fingertip. Cassie sucked in a hard breath, but let the air trail out in a sigh of disappointment as Ty’s hand slipped away and his mouth left hers. “Up,” he rasped, but she stared at him hazily, too immersed in desire to comprehend what he wanted. His eyes were white-hot, like the center of a blowtorch flame. The corner of Ty’s mouth crooked up and Cassie’s eyes were drawn to his lower lip, even fuller than usual from the force of their kisses and the work of her teeth. Gently detaching her hands from behind his neck, Ty raised them above her head, holding them up as he leaned in for a soft touch of his lips to hers. His body pinned her against the counter and the phrase “caught between a rock and a hard place” flickered into her mind, making her smile. “Stay,” he murmured, releasing her hands and reaching for the bottom edge of her camisole. Comprehension slowly trickled in and Cassie obediently kept her arms raised so that Ty could draw her top off. His eyes fixed on her full, heavy breasts with their baby-pink nipples drawn to hard points. The cool air stung her sensitized breasts, puckering her nipples even tighter. Ty stared until Cassie thought the top of her head might blow off with frustration. His chest moved with each hard breath, drawing her attention. Clutching his t-shirt in both hands, she tugged at it, exposing each hard line of his stomach, one by one, until he pulled her too-slow hands away and yanked the shirt over his head himself. Entranced by the softly furred expanse exposed to her, Cassie flattened her palms against his chest and flexed her fingers, digging gently into the unyielding flesh, marveling at the contrast of vulnerable skin that was stretched over rigid muscle. Ty stiffened at her touch and Cassie felt one of his silent groans rumble through his body and up her arms. Her fingers burrowed through his chest hair, exploring the terrain of his torso, sliding lower to contour the ridges of his stomach, which jumped beneath her caress. It had been so long, an eternity since she had been this close to
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anyone. Cassie had forgotten how it felt to touch another person, skin on skin, the heat and movement of his body vibrating against her palms. Just touching him, feeling his sheer aliveness, made tears prickle behind her eyes. She could have pressed her hands against him for hours, but Ty’s patience cracked. He wrapped an arm under her hips, hitching her higher against him so that her legs were wrapped around his waist. The sudden movement caught her off guard. She sucked in a startled breath and clutched his shoulders. Ty’s arm secured her against him and Cassie allowed her grip to loosen. She traced the braced muscles of his neck with both hands until her fingers curved around Ty’s skull. His hair was so short that Cassie had always thought it would be rough, but it was startlingly soft, and her hands passed over it with a silky slide. She loved his neck, the heavy strength of it. It bent as Ty took the tip of one eager breast into his mouth, sucking it into a wet heat that made her pussy weep. He played with her nipple, flicking it with his tongue, gently scoring the entire length with his teeth before pulling it back into his mouth and suckling strongly. Cassie rubbed against his hard stomach, trying to ease the longing ache that was building with each pull of his mouth, not caring that he could feel her wetness against his bare skin. As he licked and nipped at her other breast, he balanced her on the edge of the counter so he could untangle her legs from his waist. Cassie resisted, not wanting to give up the pressure of his hard flesh between her legs, but he inexorably detached her from him. With a firm tug, he pulled her pajama pants and panties over her hips and released them to crumple to the floor. It was a relief to wrap her legs around him again. The contact of skin to skin, combined with the pulling friction of his mouth on her nipple, was so intense that she fought the urge to set her teeth into the hard meat of his shoulder. She wanted to bite, needed to anchor herself with her teeth, to somehow ground herself as ferocious sensations rampaged inside of her. She kissed him instead, licking at the muscle that connected his shoulder to his lovely, thick neck, allowing herself to barely scrape against him with her teeth, feeling him shudder in reaction. As Ty sucked her nipple, she ground her pussy against his stomach, rocking against him in rhythm with the draws of his mouth. Their sweat mixed with her liquid desire and she slid easily against him. Ty palmed the slick globes of her ass, kneading her cheeks as his thick fingers pulled them apart, exposing the crevice between. Cassie shivered against him as air brushed her hot flesh hidden there, and exposure pulled even more needy moisture from her. His hands dropped from her as Ty fumbled with the fastenings on his jeans, shoving them and his boxers impatiently past his hips. The edge of the counter bit into her backside as Ty plunged into her, filling her with one thrust, ruthlessly stretching her, forcing her body to fit around him. Cassie came as soon as he entered her, her inner walls clamping hard around his cock. He felt enormous inside her, burning hot and huge, as if he filled her entire body with his flesh. As the waves of her orgasm beat against her, Cassie lost control, her teeth 18
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closing on the hard flesh of his chest. With a growl, Ty slammed his hips against hers, thrusting harder and higher into her until his body arched and he roared his release. The pinch of the counter edge pressing into her bottom slowly brought Cassie back to reality. Ty was still inside of her, still hard. She didn’t move, not wanting to disrupt the connection between their bodies. It felt right, this physical link between them, locked together like a pair of joined timbers. Despite her stillness, Ty eventually stirred, leaning back to ease the press of the counter against her backside. Cassie tightened her legs, still locked around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind him. She looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, not wanting to see his expression. If she looked and saw impatience or, even worse, panic, Cassie knew that it would break her heart. She was aware that she was being clingy—literally—and that she should instead be acting cool and nonchalant, give him his space, act like an adult. Cassie knew all this, but she still didn’t want to let go, to have him pull out of her and leave her empty again. Like an ostrich, she hid her face against his chest, hoping to prolong the intimate moment just a little longer. Ty’s hand smoothed over her back, and Cassie felt a kiss against her temple. “I don’t want to sound like a wimp, but my legs are a little shaky here.” Cassie felt his words as much as she heard them. Ty’s chest rumbled with the sounds like a bass speaker. A woofer, she thought, and almost giggled hysterically. The urge to laugh morphed quickly into the threatening pressure of impending tears. Reluctantly, she untangled her limbs from around Ty, trying to arrange her expression for a properly casual goodbye. Cassie tried to detach herself from him and slide to her feet, but a hard arm hooked under her hips held her still. She glanced up at him in surprise. “Sorry.” He gave a small, sheepish shrug. “I just didn’t want to leave you yet.” Her heart gave a joyful leap and Cassie twined herself around him again. “Then don’t.” His chest heaved from a huff of laughter. “I might fall down.” “Then let’s go to bed,” she told him, stroking the back of his neck. Inside her, she felt his cock jump in reaction. Shivers spread across her belly and Cassie tightened her body around him. His voice roughened as his erection grew even larger inside her. “Okay. Where?” Cassie pointed. Ty carefully extricated his feet from his abandoned jeans and boxers without dropping her or even pulling out of her. Leaving all of their clothes strewn around the kitchen, he carried her through the living room and up the stairs, flicking off lights as he went. It made Cassie’s stomach flutter to be carried so easily with one arm— she wasn’t very tall, but she wasn’t a skinny, waiflike creature, either. Despite his comments about his unsteady legs, he moved easily, climbing the stairs without any noticeable effort. She could become addicted to that strength, Cassie realized, and the thought brought an excited flicker in her belly that mixed with a churn of apprehension. 19
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Ty tumbled both of them down onto the bed, using his position on top to press more deeply into her, making her gasp. Supporting himself with one arm, Ty brushed her hair out of her face with gentle fingers. “This is a little late to ask, I know, but are you on some kind of birth control?” he asked, making no move to pull free of her. “Yeah, I’m on the pill,” she reassured him. “Not that I’ve needed it lately, but I went on it years ago and I just stayed on it, even when the sex stopped. Habit, I guess. You don’t have to worry about anything else—anything catchable, I mean. I’m clean as a whistle.” Ty grinned. “Thanks for that…colorful reassurance. You don’t need to worry on my end, either. I’m not exactly the wild man of Napping. In a small town, especially with a public job, it’s just easier to keep it in my pants most of the time.” “Am I the exception, then?” Cassie asked curiously. Even in the pale light from a half-moon, she could see his cheeks darken. “Shit,” he confessed, “I wanted you from the first time I saw you, more than two years ago at Chuck’s real estate office.” “Really?” She tried to remember that first meeting with Chuck. “Am I being unromantic if I admit that I don’t remember seeing you there?” “Yeah, well, word went around town pretty fast that there was an unknown busty blonde trying to find some property outside town, so I just happened to saunter by Chuck’s office. Those windows of his are pretty big.” Ty admitted, his half-smile pulling on the corner of his mouth. Cassie smiled back. “So you came by to check me out?” “Yep. Took one glance, got as hard as a rock, stayed that way until—well, I guess I’m still that way.” He pressed his cock a little deeper into her, making her moan and tilt her hips up. Leaning down to kiss her softly, he said, “Can’t believe I’m actually inside you. Never thought it would go any further than watching you wiggle that sweet little ass of yours around Ginger’s café.” “Oh-ho!” Cassie crowed triumphantly. “Ginger was right about your moony looks, then?” Gently nipping her lip in retaliation, Ty protested, “I have never been ‘moony’ in my entire life. I’m the sheriff. I get paid to be observant.” She laughed, gripping his silky, short hair and tugging gently. “Sure you were, Moony. I’m sure that if my ass had committed a crime, you would have been right on it.” Growling, he kissed her in teasing punishment. Their laughter died quickly as the playful kiss deepened. Ty’s hands trailed over her naked sides, sliding over the curve of her hips and around her thighs. Breaking the kiss, he pulled her legs up and forward, folding her like an origami swan. When he thrust into her, she felt him penetrate even more deeply. Cassie felt the tension begin to build again, ratcheted up with each heavy
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slam of his body into hers, each thick slide of his cock into the hungry depths of her pussy. Ty lowered his head and caught a nipple, swollen from his earlier ministrations, between his teeth. The hard-edged pinch sent jagged lines of pleasure and pain streaking through her, and every muscle in her body pulled taut as her climax broke over her. Ty followed her over the edge with a guttural, drawn-out groan, the skin pulled tight over his corded neck and jaw as he came. When he collapsed on top of her, Cassie welcomed his boneless weight, the heat of his breath against the side of her neck, the damp brush of his hair on her cheek and chin. She only had a few seconds to savor the feel of him resting against her before he lifted himself off her so he could shift to his side. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes drifting closed. “Know I’m heavy…” Throwing an arm over her waist, he hauled her against him until the back of her body was pressed against the length of the front of his. He tossed a leg over hers and Cassie was completely surrounded by him. She smiled in the dim light. This was just as nice as having him on top of her—and it was a lot easier to breathe this way. She let her eyes slide shut and was asleep in seconds, still smiling.
***** When Cassie woke up, the light was still dim, but this time it was the grey shade that came before dawn. She was still tucked tightly into Ty’s chest, his arm wrapped over her side and his hand tucked between her breasts. He was snoring lightly in low, steady rumbles, but Cassie liked the sound. It made her feel…secure. It was proof that the sheriff was actually here in her bed and that it wasn’t just one of her frequent dreams he starred in. She always woke at just the wrong time during those steamy dreams, leaving her sweaty and frustrated and close to tears. Cuddling closer, she felt the press of his erection on her bottom. Now that was definitely real. She wiggled against him again—he was wonderfully hard, she discovered, and a wicked smile touched the corners of her mouth. His snores had stopped with her second wiggle and the hand between her breasts began exploring, stroking the soft orbs, pinching and tugging at her nipples. As he petted her, Cassie could feel his cock growing against her backside and he nudged against her, finding the valley between her cheeks and sliding his length along the crevice. Suddenly, Ty flipped her onto her stomach. She squeaked in surprise and he chuckled as he brushed his bristly chin against her shoulder. “Good morning,” he said huskily, his morning voice even deeper than his usual voice. “Morning,” Cassie mumbled, muffled by the pillows. Ty gathered the mass of her hair and stroked it gently to the side, exposing her neck. “Do you know what I noticed first about you?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck and drawing a shiver from her. 21
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“My ass?” her muffled voice guessed, earning a light spank on the body part in question. “No. Well, maybe,” Ty reconsidered thoughtfully. “But what I noticed second was your hair. It’s so light—like cornsilk. Don’t most little blonde girls grow out of this color? How did you get to keep yours?” He brushed his hand across the strands, careful not to snag it with his rough calluses. Cassie shrugged, turning her cheek against the pillow. “It just never darkened. My mom’s hair was the same color.” “Do you want to know what I noticed next?” “Yeah—what?” She was starting to like this game. Ty stroked his hands down both sides of her spine and she wanted to arch into his touch like a cat. “The way you move. So smooth—like liquid. Were you a dancer?” “No. But I like to dance. Are you going to take me sometime? Just not line dancing. I went once, didn’t know what I was doing and almost got trampled. I was lucky to escape with my life.” Cassie knew she was babbling, but couldn’t help it. The combination of his voice and his hands on her was drugging her into a gooey haze and her control was, if not completely gone, at least slipping severely. He massaged her back with long, slow sweeps of his hands. “Sure, I’ll take you out dancing. But if any guy looks at you, I get to kill him. Deal?” Cassie laughed. “How about if any guy hits on me, you can give him an evil glare?” “If any guy talks to you, I get to punch him. Twice if he was looking at you when he was talking to you. And that’s my final offer.” “Hmmm…” She really shouldn’t try to negotiate while in such a compromising position. Changing the subject seemed like a smart tactical decision. “What did you like about me next?” “Your smile,” Ty told her, kissing the side of her mouth that wasn’t hidden in the pillow. “You usually look so serious, with those big eyes looking at me, and then you smile and your whole face just glows. It always makes me want to smile when I see it.” “I’m glad. Next?” He flipped her onto her back and she squealed, startled, and then laughed. He brushed one finger across the tips of her breasts. Her nipples hardened at the touch, as if they were reaching toward him, begging for more. “These,” Ty told her, circling the tip of one breast teasingly before flicking the nipple with the edge of his short fingernail, making her suck in a breath. “You were dropping off a box of books at the library sale a few months ago, and you were wearing this tiny little tank top, so when you bent over to put the box on the ground…” Biting her lip, Cassie admitted guiltily, “Yeah, that was kind of on purpose.” “You were trying to torture me? I had to chat with sweet Mrs. Dainsworth with a raging hard-on,” he accused, looking aggrieved.
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She tried to hold her guilt-stricken look, but a grin threatened to appear. “I didn’t know you were interested and I just wanted to, well, see if I could make you look.” “I was looking, all right,” he growled, nuzzling her stomach and making her giggle at the rough brush of his stubbled cheek. “Pretty much all the time, I was looking.” He nuzzled lower and Cassie’s giggles turned into a gasp. Ty nudged her thighs apart and settled between them, his face just inches from her pussy. He took his time, his breath teasing her hot flesh, tickling the white-blonde curls that framed the deep pink cleft. Leaning closer, he kissed the damp lips, outlining her folds with the tip of his tongue, exploring her with his mouth. Cassie was instantly aroused. Ty lapped at the moisture that leaked from her, pressing his tongue in further with each pass. He opened her with his fingers as his mouth found her clit, sucking gently on the small nub. Cassie’s back arched, overwhelmed by the sensation of the wet tugs of his mouth as two fingertips nudged into her pussy, sliding easily through the moisture. He circled her clit with his tongue, smaller and smaller circles, until he pressed right on the center of her need. At the same time, he drove his fingers deep into her wet channel, drawing a longing wail from Cassie. She pressed her palms against the bed so she could thrust her hips up, closer to Ty’s talented mouth. Sucking in rhythm with his delving fingers, he drove her higher and higher, using his lips and tongue and teeth to draw pleasure out of the deepest parts of her. Cassie heard ringing. At first, she thought it was imaginary bells, but then Ty raised his head. “Fuck.” He rolled away from her and headed for the stairs, moving fast. “Work phone,” he called over his shoulder. For several seconds, she lay sprawled where he had left her, her mind muddled by the quick transition from blissful heat to being alone and slightly chilly. Cassie sat up and followed Ty, snagging the quilt off the bed and wrapping it around her toga-style as she went. She followed his voice to the kitchen, where he must have dug his cell phone out of his abandoned jeans. Although Ty glanced up when she walked into the room, his tight expression didn’t change. Cassie’s stomach cramped into a ball; something serious had happened. The image of Carol’s body flashed through her mind. “Ten minutes,” he clipped out and snapped the phone shut. He yanked his jeans up his legs. “I have to go, Cass—I’m sorry.” Picking up his crumpled t-shirt and giving it an automatic shake, she crossed the kitchen to hand it to him. Ty watched her as he took it and she dredged up a half-smile. “It’s okay,” Cassie told him as he yanked the shirt over his head. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” he sighed and took her face between his hands. “I’ll call—I promise. It might be a while—it sounds like a mess—but I will call.” He kissed her quickly and then moved toward the door, where he had so politely left his shoes the night before. Cassie
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trailed after him, wanting to ask questions but knowing that he wouldn’t be able to answer. “Be careful,” was all she could think to say. “You too,” he said, gave her one last kiss, hard and fast, and then he was gone.
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Chapter Three Going back to bed seemed silly, since Cassie highly doubted that she would sleep, as the unsettling combination of sexual frustration, worry and guilt tangled together. Besides, she thought, glancing at the kitchen clock, in less than an hour, two horses would be yelling for their morning handful of grain. She sighed. Since she wasn’t going to get any sleep or sex, she might as well make some tea. Cassie’s mouth curved at the thought of sex, specifically sex with the hot sheriff—the hot, previously-thought-unobtainable sheriff. Despite the interruptus of their final coitus, a warm wash of wellbeing simmered inside her. Her smile fell away as worry and guilt seeped back into her mind. Staring blindly at the stream of water running from the faucet into the teakettle, Cassie tried to reason away that guilt, the familiar heavy weight of responsibility pressing down on her. “Just because Ty had an emergency call, it doesn’t necessarily mean that something has happened to Carol Knight,” Cassie told herself firmly, but the logical words did not banish her unease. With a huff of irritation, she plopped the kettle onto a burner on the stove. It wasn’t like her visions were all that clear, she thought defensively. It was like reading one page of a novel and trying to figure out the entire plot. Her mother was lucky—her visions had been strictly PG-rated—no blood, gore or death for her. “Yeah, that’s fair,” Cassie muttered, plopping a tea bag into her mug. “I get Stephen King and Mom got happy little bunny stories.” But what if the call had been about Carol? What if her husband had found her body on the kitchen floor and called the sheriff? “Stop it!” She thumped the mug down on the counter, hard enough that she was surprised it didn’t break. “This is so not helping.” The kettle began to whistle just as someone knocked on the front door. Looking up in surprise, Cassie pulled the water off the heat to quiet the shrill noise and moved toward the door, glancing out the window on her way. The driveway was empty, which meant that it could only be one person. “Hey, Dan,” she greeted him as she pulled open the door. Pink and gray streaks were just beginning to light the sky. “Morning, Cassie.” Her neighbor looked a little sheepish, shifting from one muddy work boot to the other. As she regarded him, Cassie realized that her irritation with Dan’s nosiness had mellowed considerably—she couldn’t complain about the end result of the sheriff’s “investigation”.
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Suppressing a smile, she stepped back to let him in. Dan, looking relieved, toed off his boots and left them on the porch before following her into the kitchen. “Heard that the sheriff was talking to you in town yesterday,” he said casually. Cassie gave him a look. “I know you called him, Dan. Want some tea?” Dan made a face—either from the information that she knew he called the sheriff or from the offer of tea. “Why don’t you drink coffee like normal folks?” Ah—the tea, then. Cassie shrugged. “I never learned to like it. Always tasted nasty to me.” Dan grunted. “You mad that I called the sheriff?” Shaking her head, Cassie poured water into her mug and settled into a chair. “Not now. At the time, I believe that that words ‘he will never see another piece of rhubarb cake’ did pass my lips.” He actually turned pale at the threat. “I was just worried about you, is all. Didn’t want you crashing that old truck of yours when you started twitching and whatnot again.” “I don’t twitch,” she protested, torn between laughter and offense. Dan waved a dismissive hand. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to have the sheriff check in on you. Saw him leave this morning. He must be pretty worried, too, to stop by that early.” “Mmm-hmm.” Cassie concentrated on her tea, but she could feel the heavy rush of heat to her face and knew that she was glowing red. She could almost feel Dan’s speculative gaze on her. “Unless he wasn’t here early—he was here late.” Well, shit. Cassie knew by his gleeful tone that Dan had figured it out. “Any chance of you keeping this to yourself?” “Weellll…” Dan drew the word out. “If I did that, Ginger wouldn’t pay me my money.” “What money?” She demanded, although Cassie had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew the answer. “We had a little bet, Ginger and me, about whether Sheriff Ty would ever get up the nerve to do more than stare at your backside when he thought no one was looking. I had more faith in the sheriff than Ginger did.” He nodded in satisfaction, looking very pleased with himself. “Uh-huh.” A suspicious thought was beginning to take hold. “This little bet wouldn’t have had anything to do with your call yesterday, would it?” Dan had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “I was worried about you, like I said,” he protested. “If it happened to start the two of you talking…well, that would just be a bonus.” “You’re a wily old dog, aren’t you? How much did we make for you?” Irritation and amusement vied for position, and amusement won.
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“Ten bucks,” Dan said in satisfaction. “Ginger won’t mind paying up, though. She’s been dying to see the two of you get together.” “She did see us together—yesterday at the café.” “What?” Dan sat up, looking outraged. “Why, that old…witch. She’s trying to hold out on me.” He stood up and strode toward the door. “I’m going to town right now and get my money, even if I have to hold her upside down and shake it out of her.” “Hey, Dan.” Cassie trailed after him as a thought occurred to her. “Could you see if Ginger knows anything about what happened this morning?” He looked up from jamming his feet in his boots. “What do you mean?” “Ty got a call this morning and had to fly out of here. I was just wondering…” Cassie trailed off awkwardly, but Dan was nodding. “Probably a wreck at that blind intersection on 42. Gary’s boy drives like a crazy person along there—I’ve always said it’s just a matter of time before he kills someone. I’ll ask around—see if anyone knows what’s what.” Dan waved and headed back toward his property. “Let me know if you hear anything!” Cassie called after him. “Although it probably is a car accident.” Even as she said the words, she knew in her churning gut that it was something much worse than an accident.
***** The Napping gossip pipeline was always reliable, and Cassie wasn’t surprised when Dan found her a few hours later with news. She was next to the barn, hosing the sweat marks off Moose. “Goofy-looking thing,” Dan said in greeting. Moose, taking no offense, lipped the old man’s sleeve and Dan gave him an affectionate rub under his dripping forelock. “Thanks,” Cassie said, turning off the hose and leaning down to pick up the sweat scrapers. “Not you,” Dan told her, watching as she squeegeed wide strips of water from Moose’s coat. “Talking about this horse of yours. Kind of an eyesore.” “Ah, but he shines with an inner beauty.” Cassie hid a grin as she ran the rubber edge of the scraper under the much-maligned Moose’s belly. Dan grunted. “So what did you hear?” She tried to keep her voice casual, but it sounded strained to her own ears. “Something’s up at the Parker place, Ginger said. The ambulance was there, and the Sheriff, and everything’s been taped off. No one knows exactly what happened, but there’s lots of speculation flying around. My guess is that Scott got shitfaced again and Sara got the business end of his fists. That boy never could control his temper after a few beers.” Dan lifted his baseball hat to run a hand over his balding head. “Damn shame if she’s hurt—nice girl.”
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“Sara Parker?” Cassie paused, surprised by the name. Deep down, she really had thought that it was going to be Carol. “Yeah, you know her, don’t you?” “Sure, I’ve run into her a couple of times but never really talked with her,” she said slowly, thinking about the few encounters she’d had with the woman, who had seemed shy to the point of mute. Moose had casually maneuvered his head into prime scratching position and Dan obligingly pulled the horse’s ears as he gazed off thoughtfully. “Yeah, she doesn’t do much talking with anybody anymore. Used to be a happy girl, always a little timid, but once she warmed up to a person, she could be a real chatterbox. Never thought that she should have dropped out of high school and married that Parker boy—not that she thought she had much choice.” “She was pregnant?” Cassie guessed. “Yep. Lost the baby, though. Poor little thing died a few weeks after he was born— crib death, they said. So the whole rush of a shotgun wedding was a waste. She stayed with him, though, and just sort of faded away.” Giving himself a shake, Dan gave Moose a final slap on the neck. “Anyhow, I’d better get back to my own beasties,” he said briskly. “Take care, now.” Cassie answered his goodbye absently, her mind zigzagging back and forth between Sara and Carol. Whatever had happened at the Parker house could have absolutely nothing to do with yesterday’s vision, but that seemed to be an awfully big coincidence. Not much out of the ordinary happened in Napping—in fact, the town pretty much lived up to its name. A long-suffering sigh from Moose nudged Cassie out of her contemplations. “Sorry, big guy,” she apologized, untying the lead rope from the post. Her jaw popped as she yawned, her nightmare and sheriff-filled night catching up with her. “Must be nice to be a horse and have pleasant horse dreams filled with—what? Carrots? Conveniently located branches to scratch against?” Moose, ambling along at her shoulder, didn’t answer.
***** For the rest of the day, Cassie cleaned. She organized. She sorted and filed and straightened, and when she couldn’t think of anything else to clean in the house, she started on the barn, brushing down ceiling cobwebs and dust clinging between the wooden slats of the stalls. The chickens were alarmed. “Don’t give me any lip—ah, beak—or your coop is next,” Cassie threatened, sweeping the barn aisle vigorously. The hold on her sanity might be tenuous, but at least she could control something in her life—even if that something was only dirt.
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By the time the sky darkened to indigo, her body was exhausted but her mind still buzzed. She couldn’t settle, switching from staring blankly at a single page of a book for a good fifteen minutes to flipping through the few TV channels that she could get reception on, not able to stay on anything for more than a few minutes. The evening news broadcast gave the Parkers’ story only fifteen seconds, barely touching on the small town’s domestic drama. She had gotten more information out of Dan, Cassie thought, clicking off the TV in disgust. Ty hadn’t called yet. Cassie knew he was dealing with a major situation and that it had been less than a day since he had left, but she still clung desperately to her cell phone. Every so often, more frequently than her feminist sensibilities preferred, she checked to make sure that the phone was on. When she found herself checking her messages—just in case the phone had gone straight to voicemail for some reason—for the fifth time, Cassie decided that enough was enough. After ten years of being completely on her own and, before that, eighteen years of being casually parented by a well-meaning but often absent mother, she had never had felt this intense need to cling. She was annoying herself with this neediness, and it had to stop. She snapped her phone shut and went to bed.
***** Sleep was elusive, and when it did arrive, the nightmares were waiting, filled with the death-stiffened visages of Carol and Sara. The images blurred, muddled together with other accusing faces—the elderly woman in Chicago who had been found two weeks after Cassie’s vision, murdered and stuffed in the trunk of an abandoned car, the father and daughter in Tampa, shot in real life after dying again and again in Cassie’s dreams, the little boy who had disappeared from Bible Park in Denver and never been found. All the people she had seen in her visions but hadn’t been able to help. Cassie jolted awake, guilt and terror following her from sleep. Someone loomed over her, the darkness of the figure outlined in the dim moonlight. Her startled scream reversed itself, roughly sucking air that tore at her throat.
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Chapter Four “It’s okay—it’s me,” Ty hurried to calm her panic. “Ty?” she asked, her mind still thick with fear and sleep. “Yeah.” He settled his weight next to her on the bed, making the mattress dip and her body roll toward him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” “No, that’s fine,” Cassie told him, thinking more clearly now that the initial scare was past. She propped herself up on an elbow and cleared the sleepy rasp from her throat. “Not to sound inhospitable or anything, but what are you doing here?” She saw the dark form of his shoulders lift in a shrug. “I’ve had a hell of a day and wanted to see you. Besides, I left you hanging this morning. Figured I owed you one.” Cassie laughed, the tension left over from her nightmare dissolving. “Well, come here then,” she told him, hooking a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. He followed the light pressure willingly, stretching his body out and rolling her beneath him in the same movement. Instead of kissing her, however, he tucked his face into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, exhaling hard against her skin, the rush of air bringing up goose bumps. Although he supported most of his weight with his arms, his mass sunk her body into the mattress. Cassie relaxed beneath him, savoring the security she felt from the press of his body. They fit together, she thought, slipping her arms around his back. Her soft rises and valleys molded to the ridges and planes of his solid body, as if only their clothes prevented them from melting into one being. “Jesus, what a day,” Ty groaned, easing them both to their sides. His arms wrapped her against him, tightly enough to make her squeak. “Sorry.” He loosened his arms just enough to allow her to breathe again. “You just feel really, really good.” Okay, Cassie thought in resignation, so we’re talking. She would have rather buried her thoughts beneath some really hot escapism sex, but the talking would have had to happen sooner or later. She braced herself, reluctant to hear the details of what had happened at the Parker house. “I didn’t plan on just showing up here,” Ty told her. “I went to my house, took a shower, tried to sleep. Didn’t have any luck with that, just lay there staring at the ceiling and seeing—” Ty didn’t finish his thought, but she had a pretty good idea of what he had seen. After all, she had some experience with sleepless nights filled with gory images plastered permanently on the inside of her eyelids. “Pretty bad, huh?” was all she said out loud. After a moment, she felt Ty nod against her cheek.
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“Yeah.” His hands were absently roaming across her back, down over her bottom and thighs, almost as if he were checking for broken or missing parts. “Everything there and accounted for?” she asked, and felt his chest move in a chuckle. “Everything’s perfect,” he said drowsily, giving both of her butt cheeks a squeeze. His hands relaxed against her and his head pressed more heavily into her shoulder. “Ty?” Cassie whispered. The only answer she got was a mumble and a soft snore. “God, Sheriff, you fall asleep quickly,” she told his unconscious body. No sex, no information—her thoughts were still circling her head at warp speed. There was no way she could sleep, Cassie thought, especially tucked against this huge bear of a man, with the rumbles of his low snores reverberating through her body. Absolutely no way.
***** She woke up to the hazy light of very early morning and someone kissing her stomach. When Cassie reached down to cup the back of Ty’s head with both hands, he began making his way back up her body, leaving meandering kisses and nips as he went. His fingers nudged the thin cotton of her camisole top upward until it bunched beneath her arms, leaving her skin exposed to the cool morning air and the burn of his mouth. Cassie released her grip on Ty just long enough to yank the crumpled top over her head. He licked the underside of her breast, his hot tongue drawing paths that circled her nipple until it puckered into a straining peak. His check, rough with morning stubble, brushed her almost painfully sensitive flesh, making her jerk away for a mere second before pressing against him, wanting more. Ty explored her body almost lazily, his lips finding the hollow under her collarbone, the crease where her arm met her shoulder, the inner surface of her elbow. Cassie would never have guessed that these random parts of her could be erogenous zones, but everywhere he touched with his lips and tongue and teeth lit beneath his mouth until her entire body was buzzing, electric with need. Her fingers tightened around his skull, trying to pull him to her mouth, to stop this torturous teasing, but Ty wouldn’t be rushed, sliding out of her desperate grip to settle between her legs. “I believe I left something unfinished last time,” he said, his voice rough with sleep and passion as he pulled her pajama pants off in one smooth motion. His hands reversed direction, gliding over her bare calves and knees and thighs until he could hook his fingers under the edge of her panties. Cassie’s breath hiccupped as he dragged the tiny bit of fabric down her legs and over her feet, the slight friction of his hands against her skin leaving a searing trail. Tossing her panties aside, Ty firmly moved her legs up and apart and buried his face between her thighs. His leisurely attitude disappeared as he worked his way to her very center, parting her labia with his thick fingers to allow his tongue to dive in deeply, plunging wetly into her pussy. 31
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Cassie’s muscles clenched, trying to hold the slippery invader inside, but his tongue evaded her grasp and disappeared. Before she could even register her dismay at his withdrawal, his finger replaced his clever tongue, working its way more deeply into the clutching passage. A second digit joined the first, thrusting their way into her body as his lips found her stiff, eager clit and sucked, his tongue flicking the delicate nub. Tension built in Cassie, fueled by each stroke of his tongue, by each plunge of his fingers. Sobbing for breath, she thrust her hips at him, grinding her pussy against his mouth and hand. Ty pulled his fingers free and slid them back, soaking and slippery with the evidence of her excitement, to rest against the puckered entrance of her anus. Tensing, as much in anticipation as in apprehension, she held her breath. His tongue lapped at her pussy as his blunt finger invaded her virgin entrance, slowly breaching the tight ring of muscle in a stinging stretch to finally bury itself deep into her ass. As if that finger had pressed a button, Cassie climaxed as soon as the full length of his probing digit was surrounded by her flesh. She came hard, twisting against him, crying out as the small pain and intense pleasure wrapped together and exploded inside of her. Ty’s caress slowed, soothed, as her body gradually shuddered back to reality. His hands and mouth were gentle as he worked his way to her mouth, but she felt the urgent press of his erection, hard and burning hot, against her hip. His kiss tasted like her, and Cassie licked at his lips and chin, cleaning her essence from his skin. A groan rumbled from his chest, deep and desperate, and his kiss turned fierce, eating at her lips as if he were starving. Their mouths fought each other, teeth and tongues clashing as they battled to get closer. Ty pulled her hands from their clutching grasp of his shoulders and pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. The quick change from gentle recovery to ferocious need left Cassie’s mind whirling, lust blinding her with flashing colors as her body bowed against his. His cock filled her with one strong shove, stealing her breath as it knocked her into another orgasm. As intense pleasure sucked at her, Ty plunged into her again and again, his breathing ragged with desperation, pounding her against the bed with his thrusting weight, driving her higher and higher until she screamed in release. Her inner muscles clamped around his raging flesh, gripping his cock, squeezing him until he roared his climax. Ty rolled onto his back, pulling her limp body along so that she lay sprawled over him. Their bodies sealed together with sweat and sex as they panted for breath. Tucking her cheek against the wiry pelt that covered his chest, Cassie reveled in the mindless lassitude, all her thoughts loose and drifting. She was lifted by each of his breaths, rocking her to sleepy peace. Ty’s breathing slowed as he let his hand rest on her head, idly stroking damp strands of her hair off her cheek. The tranquil moment was interrupted by a trumpeting whinny. Cassie ignored it. The demanding call came again, in stereo this time. She groaned in defeat, knowing all too well that her two equines would get even louder if their morning grain was not
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forthcoming. Grumbling under her breath, she reluctantly began to slide off the temptingly warm male body. “No,” Ty grunted, mostly asleep, and his arms tightened, holding her to him. “I have to feed the horses. I’ll be right back,” she whispered. Cassie wasn’t sure if he was awake enough to even hear her, but his arms loosened and she was able to slip free of his hold. Throwing on a t-shirt and shorts, she paused by the door and glanced back at Ty, so bare and morning-rumpled and beautiful. After a long moment, she forced herself to turn away and leave the bedroom. “You have it bad, girly girl,” she muttered, hurrying down the stairs. The faster she got out to the horses and threw them their handful of grain, the sooner she would be back in bed with a certain sheriff who seemed to really enjoy going down on her. Cassie’s pussy, a little sore from all the unusual activity, tingled anew at the thought of Ty’s face buried between her legs, and she yanked on her muck boots and almost ran toward the barn. Moose and his partner-in-noisemaking, the unfortunately but appropriately named Squirrel, paced the fence. Their heads shot up, ears tilted sharply forward, when they saw her approach, and their pace picked up to an excited trot along the fence line. “You guys eat all day—and all night—all the grass you could want, and you act like you are starving to death,” she complained, darting into the barn to retrieve their grain from the feed room. All this commotion over such a measly amount, Cassie thought as the horses greeted her reappearance from the barn with a new flurry of excitement. Ducking between the slats of fence, she carefully avoided brushing against the electric wire that rimmed the top board. She’d had enough jolts for one day—enough for the year, probably. Tossing half of the grain into Moose’s shallow feed tub, she walked the twenty feet to the second tub, followed closely by Squirrel, who kept a close eye on what remained in the coffee can that served as a scoop. “I think that I like my food, but you two have me beat.” Cassie dumped Squirrel’s portion into his dish. “Now can I go back to bed, my beloved cock-blockers?” she asked, but the horses ignored her, busy chasing the bits of grain around their feed pans. She ducked back through the fence, checking the level in their water trough on the way, which, to her intense relief, did not need filling. Chucking the empty coffee can in the direction of the barn door, Cassie hurried back toward the house as fast as she could go in her awkward boots. Halfway across the yard, she remembered the chickens, still closed in their coop. Muttering a few rude words under her breath, she turned around and stomped back to release the notably ungrateful poultry. When she got back inside the house, her excitement deflated at the sight of Ty, fully dressed, standing in the kitchen. “You don’t have coffee,” he said in the tone of voice that someone would use to say “you killed my dog”.
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“Never drink it,” she told him, kicking off her muck boots a little sulkily. She had been looking forward to a lazy morning in bed with Ty—okay, maybe not so lazy, she corrected herself mentally, pressing the tops of her thighs together as excited moisture began to gather between them. “Oh.” He looked so dejected at this news that Cassie couldn’t help but smile. Rising on tiptoe, she kissed the edge of his jaw, letting the tip of her tongue touch the fresh smoothness of his skin. “Did you bring an overnight kit?” she asked curiously, smoothing her fingers against his cheek. “No.” Ty tangled a hand in her hair and bent over her until his mouth was just a breath away from her own. “I used one of your razors to shave.” Cassie grinned at the thought. “But they’re so…pink,” she teased, but was stopped from saying anything more when his lips found hers. The kiss was long and wet and deep and her smile changed into a longing moan. As Ty tilted her head to find an even better angle, Cassie had the blurry thought that, even though it had just been a couple of days since he had kissed her for the first time, he knew her as well as if he had been kissing her for years. Pulling away reluctantly, Ty blew out a hard breath and stepped back. His eyes had the backlit storm cloud brightness that she was beginning to recognize. Cassie involuntarily swayed toward him, but he braced his hands on her shoulders to keep them apart. “Cass, I can’t,” he groaned. “If I kiss you again, I’m going to have to fuck you again and then we’ll be in bed all day.” He cupped her face with his calloused hand. “If it were any other day, I’d just take off work and let someone else deal with Mrs. Swenson wandering off and taking a bath at the O’Neil place by mistake or kids speeding on the back roads, but I can’t today. A woman was killed and I have to do my job.” “She was murdered?” The confirmation of her fears shoved aside the disappointment of his departure. “Yeah.” Ty closed his eyes for a second. “It was a mess. I’ve known her since she was just a little kid and I had to see her—” He broke off, but his eyes were filled with the horror and grief of violent death. Cassie was shaken. She wasn’t used to seeing Ty like this—so vulnerable. Feeling awkward and out of practice with the whole consoling thing, she tentatively linked her fingers around his wrists. “You’d better get to work, then,” she said, feeling guilty that she had delayed him. Ty nodded and kissed her gently, so sweetly that silly tears burned behind her eyes. “I’ll see you later.” He said the casual words solemnly, like a promise. “Be careful out here, okay?”
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“Sure, don’t worry about me.” Cassie forced lightness into her voice. “Tell you what—I’ll pick up some coffee at the store today. Oh and I guess a coffeemaker would be useful too—unless you just wanted to chew on a mouthful of grounds.” “Actually, I’d almost settle for that right now,” he admitted, making a face. Cassie grinned and gave him a shove. “Get out of here.” After a final kiss, he left, and Cassie’s smile dropped away.
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Chapter Five The vision hit her while she was riding Squirrel. It was unfortunate timing, since Squirrel was not an easy ride on a good day. The image of Carol’s kitchen blinded her, and Cassie went rigid, clamping her legs around Squirrel’s nervous sides and yanking his reins into her lap. Cassie’s legs told him to go, but her hands told him to stop and a panicked Squirrel took Option C—straight up in the air. As he came down, Cassie was jolted back to reality as her crotch hit the front of the saddle hard. “Omf,” she grunted, scrabbling to grab a handful of mane. Sheer luck and Squirrel’s momentary hesitation allowed Cassie to stay in the saddle, if only barely. Shifting back to center, she forced herself to breathe and relax the muscles that had pulled taut during her vision. “Sorry, buddy,” she apologized to the horse, who was jigging sideways, blowing air though his nostrils in loud exhales of nerves. Quickly reorganizing, Cassie banished the vision as far back in her mind as possible and pushed Squirrel into a forward trot on a big circle, spiraling in and out again, moving in familiar rhythmical patterns until his head and neck stretched down and his mind focused on work. She slowed him to a cool down walk, mentally nixing the earlier plan of taking a trail ride down the gravel road. “Another day, Squirrely-Pants. I think I’ve tempted fate too many times today already,” she told the sweating horse, who swiveled a listening ear back toward her voice. When she swung off his back and her feet hit the ground, Cassie realized that her legs were shaking. As she led Squirrel back to the barn to untack him, she decided that it was time to get some answers in town. The second vision had been almost the same as the first—Carol’s body sprawled in her kitchen—but this time Cassie had noticed someone standing in the doorway, a large, male figure, his features hidden by shadows. Was he a serial killer? Had he murdered Sara? Would Carol be his next victim? The questions pounded against her skull, giving her a headache. “So why didn’t I see Sara?” she asked out loud, a little pissed at the Powers-That-Be who decided what vague, random visions to throw at her at the least convenient time. “Why is Carol’s death more important than Sara’s? If Carol is going to die,” she amended in frustration. Why couldn’t she have gotten visions like her mother—easy, useful, money-making visions that didn’t get her kicked out of town? Okay, so maybe Cassie hadn’t been literally kicked out of Chicago or Tampa or Denver, but her so-called “gift” hadn’t made things very comfortable for her in any of those places, either.
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Chicago had been the hardest to leave; she had stayed until the other residents in the building, her neighbors, invited her to a meeting and asked her to move. As she had looked around at the faces, at the mix of guilt and fear and fascination, she had actually laughed, although her face was flushed and angry tears prickled at the back of her eyes and nose. “What is this—a psychic intervention?” she had asked. No one else had looked amused, but Tammy, her supposed friend, had looked away, ashamed. Cassie shook off the memory and concentrated on sponging off the sweat patches on Squirrel’s coat. After she turned him out into the pasture to join Moose, Cassie slowly wandered back to the house to get ready to go to town. She was reluctant to go, and her shower stretched out until the hot water was used up and the chilly stream forced her out. After the shower, she put on lotion, plucked her eyebrows and was going to paint her toenails before she decided that she had procrastinated long enough. If she didn’t find out what was going on, she would probably be planted in front of a train the next time the vision hit her. “An ambiguous, confusing and definitely unclear vision,” she told her bathroom ceiling in disgust. The Powers-That-Be did not deign to reply. The truck decided to start on the first try, which just made Cassie scowl. She couldn’t even rely on her unreliable truck to help her avoid going to town. The trip seemed to fly by, although she intentionally kept the speedometer down. In fact, she was going so slowly that Otto Murphy passed her in his tractor as he trundled down the road to his bean field, giving her a puzzled wave as he pulled around her truck. Cassie decided to start at Ginger’s—most of the people in town congregated there, and Ginger had a way of sniffing out any and all details of any and all situations. Easing into a parking spot right in front of the diner, Cassie put the truck into park and took a bracing breath before getting out. All heads turned her way as she stepped inside of the diner. Normally, she would have headed for a booth that overlooked the street, but today she wanted information. Cassie chose a center stool between Jim McIntire and Tom Glass. “Hey, guys,” she greeted them as she waved to Ginger, who was balancing a tray of filled plates and could only nod in response. “Cassie.” Jim gave her a pat on the back and Tom nodded his greeting. “You hear about poor Sara Parker?” She blinked. It appeared that this fact-finding mission was going to be easy. “A little bit—nothing reliable, though. Is she really dead?” Cassie asked. “Sure is,” Tom confirmed grimly. “Word is that it wasn’t natural, either.” “’Course it wasn’t natural, dummy,” Jim scoffed. “How’s a girl like that supposed to die naturally? She wasn’t even thirty.” Tom scowled at the other man. “Don’t call me a dummy. There’s lots of ways she could have died naturally—cancer for one.” “Cancer? Sara didn’t have cancer.”
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“Well, I know that—I’m saying that she didn’t die of cancer.” Cassie followed the exchange, her head turning back and forth with the volley of words. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be quite as easy as she had initially thought. “Who did it? Does anyone know?” she asked, trying to get back on track. Both men looked at her and nodded in unison. “You know it had to be Scott. That boy was always trouble—he was stealing as soon as he was tall enough to reach the shelves at the hardware store,” Tom said, and Jim nodded his agreement. “Besides, on that cop show on TV, they say it’s always the husband. That or the boyfriend.” “Was there anyone else who had any reason to kill Sara?” Cassie asked. If this was a case of an abusive husband murdering his wife, where did Carol come in, Cassie wondered. “Nah,” Tom said, looking sad. “There was nothing not to like about that girl. She was going to some fancy art school after she graduated high school—her parents were about busting a gut, they were so proud of her. She was dating a nice boy, got good grades, painted real pretty—then she got mixed up with Parker. A real shame—she was such a sweet girl, and quiet. Not enough gumption in that one to make any enemies, I can’t imagine.” Jim’s eyes sharpened as they focused on Cassie. “Surprised you don’t know all the details already—directly from the horse’s mouth.” “What horse?” She gave Jim a puzzled look. “I don’t really know Scott—I met him a few times, that’s all.” “Not that horse,” Tom chimed in, giving Jim a knowing look. “The horse that’s doing the official investigation.” “Oh, that horse.” Cassie felt an involuntary smile tug at the corners of her mouth at the mention of Ty. “Why would he say anything to me about it?” she asked innocently. The men guffawed. “For the same reason that Ginger had to fork over ten bucks to Dan yesterday morning.” Tom grinned wide enough to show a couple of gaps where teeth should have been. Cassie traced an invisible pattern on the countertop. “Oh, that. We don’t really talk about his work.” “Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Jim leered, and both the men roared with laughter when she flushed bright red. Jim patted her hand and said good-naturedly. “Don’t mind us—we’re happy for the sheriff. You too, of course.” “Yeah—‘bout time that man got some—” Tom broke off as Jim reached behind Cassie to give the other man a hard shove. “What?” Tom asked in an injured tone. “I was going to say good cooking. Hey, speak of the devil.” Cassie whipped around in her chair and her blush, which was just beginning to recede, flooded back into her cheeks. Ty stood just inside the doorway of the diner, 38
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flanked by two of his deputies. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Cassie and she could see the flare of his light eyes all the way across the room. “Sorry to keep you waiting, hon,” Ginger said, having bustled up behind the counter without Cassie noticing. “What would you like?” “Hmmm?” Cassie responded distractedly, not taking her eyes off Ty. Ginger followed her gaze. “Never mind—I can see what you like,” she said dryly, exchanging amused looks with Tom and Jim. “It cost me ten bucks too.” As Ty was striding toward her, Cassie didn’t hear the other woman’s words. Entranced, she watched his approach until he stood in front of her. Ty was close, not touching her, but surrounding her with his bulk and his heat. His scent was familiar to her already, and just a whiff was enough to start a warming buzz under her skin. Cassie watched his nostrils flare, as if he were inhaling her. Jim cleared his throat and both Ty and Cassie looked at him, startled out of their mutual distraction. As she glanced around, Cassie realized that every eye in the diner was fixed on them in fascination. “Um.” She cleared her throat. “Here for lunch?” Mentally, she smacked her own forehead. “Of course you’re here for lunch—this being a food-providing place and all.” The corner of Ty’s mouth curled up in the adorable half-smile that drove the tingling buzz of excitement to a roar. She had to look away before she embarrassed herself in front of the entire diner by jumping the sheriff on the spot. “Hey, Slater. Tweedle.” She greeted the deputies flanking Ty. “Hi Cassie.” Tweedle wedged his considerable girth between Cassie and Tom’s stools. “What are you doing with these two jokers?” “Hey, now,” Tom protested indignantly. Ginger shook her head at the bickering men and turned to the sheriff. “Did you arrest Scott Parker yet?” she asked him. A somber silence fell over the diner as all the patrons held their breaths, waiting to hear Ty’s answer. “You know we can’t tell you anything, Ginger.” Ty’s smile fell away, leaving the closed, professional face of the county sheriff. Cassie realized that she found his stern expression just as arousing as his curly smile. “I can tell you something, though, Sheriff—that boy is the one who killed Sara. We all know it,” Ginger stated. A few murmurs and nods of agreement rippled across the diner. “What’s the special today?” Ty ignored her statement and the multiple curious stares focused on him. “Okay, I get your point—I’ll shut up,” Ginger conceded grudgingly. Tweedle sniggered. “I’ll believe that when I don’t hear it.” Ginger glared at him. “Meatloaf today. Just a tip—it’s best not to piss off the person serving you your food.”
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The deputy opened his mouth as if to make another comment and then snapped it shut. “Uh-huh.” Ginger pointed a finger at him. “You’re learning. Slowly, but you are getting it.” During the exchange, Ty’s hand had settled on the back of Cassie’s neck, massaging the braced tendons under the cover of her hair. She gave him a speaking look and muttered under her breath. “What?” Ty tipped his head forward so he could hear her softly spoken words. “I said,” Cassie hissed, “that you’d better be planning to follow through and not just leave me hot and bothered while you eat your meatloaf.” The flame in Ty’s eyes had settled to a banked glow, but her words made them flare with blue-white heat. His fingers tightened briefly on the back of her neck. “The alley in back. Ten minutes,” he whispered, his breath hot on the edge of her ear. For the next five minutes, Cassie squirmed in her seat, trying to concentrate on the banter between Jim, Tom and the deputies while Ty’s fingers traced wicked suggestions along her nape. Finally, not able to stand it any more, she hopped off the stool. “I’d better get going—I have to…umm…get things done.” With that lame excuse, Cassie dug some crumpled bills out of her pocket and dropped them on the counter, keeping her head down as she dodged out of the diner, feeling everyone’s baffled stares following her. She sat in her truck for a second, digging desperately for sanity—hell, she’d even settle for a shred of composure—but her blood pounded through her veins, beating a heavy pulse that settled between her legs. She could feel moisture building in her pussy and only her too-visible location in front of the diner kept her from slipping her hand under the skirt of her sundress and finding her needy clit with her fingers. The light material of the dress felt rough against her stiff nipples and she let her head fall back with a groan. Fighting back a rolling wave of lust, she started the truck. It caught on the second try, to her relief—she didn’t think she could handle delaying any longer. Pulling around the corner, she turned into the narrow alley that ran behind the diner and parked, hoping that no one would spot her truck and come to investigate. Cassie glanced in her rearview mirror, desire and nerves hopping around in her stomach. The driver’s side door was jerked open and she jumped. “Loitering, ma’am?” Ty asked with his hard sheriff face on. “Soliciting, actually,” Cassie admitted, desire choking off her voice so that it came out as a bare squeak. Ty’s jaw tightened at her words and heat flashed in his eyes. “Do you know the punishment for prostitution, ma’am?” he asked grittily, leaning in. Not able to speak, she just shook her head slowly, her stomach clenching with excitement and nervousness and the thrill of possibly being seen. Ty’s hands closed
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around her knees and he deliberately turned her toward him. Cassie breath caught as his palms slid beneath her filmy skirt and up to her bare thighs, tortuously slow, pushing her legs apart as he moved upward, opening her to his hungry view. “You’re wet,” he growled, his fingertips sliding through her moisture and pushing beneath the elastic edge of her panties. He turned one hand over and made a fist around the soaked fabric. In one sudden movement, Ty tore her underwear from her. Cassie gasped at the unexpected exposure and automatically tried to close her legs to hide her weeping pussy from his fierce gaze. “No.” His hands closed firmly on her knees again, denying her modesty, holding her spread out in front of him. Ty leaned in, drawing closer, moving so slowly that Cassie whimpered, desperate to feel his mouth on hers, needing his touch with an intensity she didn’t even want to admit to herself. She watched his face close in, helpless and hypnotized by the incredible draw he had for her. When his lips finally touched hers, the kiss caught fire. It was ferocious, hungry. Ty’s low groan vibrated against her mouth as he pressed her down onto the seat. He caught Cassie beneath her arms, hitching her further into the truck and following her in. Covering her body with his own, Ty found her mouth again, and Cassie used both hands to pull his head down, increasing the frantic pressure of his kiss. All the desire she had pressed back during the past half-hour at the diner—hell, during the past two years—rushed out, as if a tiny hairline crack had weakened her selfcontrol and allowed a waterfall of lust to pour through. Ty’s knee was pressed into the seat between her thighs and Cassie ground her pussy against it, loving how the fabric of his uniform pants scraped against her sensation-starved flesh. Ty managed to undo his pants and shove them and his boxers past his hips without breaking their kiss. Almost as soon as his erection sprang free, he was inside Cassie, parting her inner folds and tunneling mercilessly into the tight clench of her pussy. The slight start of pain from his sudden entry blended with the bliss of fullness—of completeness—and drove her need even higher. She whimpered as he broke their kiss, but could only form a half-thought of protest before he shoved her dress higher and his lips closed around one nipple. He worked the nipple with his tongue and teeth, wetting the sheer barrier of her bra. Impatient with the fabric blocking the contact of his mouth, Ty pushed her bra up over her swollen breasts to join the dress tangled under her arms. His lips clamped around the tip of one exposed breast as he began to thrust, pulling his cock almost completely out before driving it back into her clutching, welcoming depths. Cassie dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders, arching her back as he pulled at her nipple with a hard suction. Overwhelmed by the sensations flying around her body from his mouth and hands and pummeling cock, she tossed her head back and forth, white-blonde strands of hair whipping against the seat. Her nails dug into his back through his shirt and her thighs tightened against his hips, trying to hold him planted deep inside her, but his thrusts quickened as she came, the ripples of her orgasm breaking Ty’s control. 41
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As Cassie’s body bowed with her climax, Ty released her nipple and braced himself on stiff arms, his face a study of concentration as he hammered into her. With a final hard thrust, he drove his thick cock into her to the hilt and came on a long, low groan. He shuddered as he released his semen into her, coming and coming until his arms shook with the strain. Reality brushed across them with the breeze and the faint, muffled voice of someone on the street. Ty was still partially hard inside of her, but he withdrew with a regretful sigh. After glancing out the back window of the truck, he grinned at Cassie and swooped down for a quick kiss. “I love your truck. Mine has bucket seats.” He patted the bench seat approvingly as he shifted over, helping Cassie into a sitting position. She smiled back. “Oh, I think we could figure out a way around bucket seats.” Ty’s eyes heated. “That will definitely go to the top of my to-do list,” he growled. Her breath caught with a fresh rush of desire. Flustered, Cassie reached down to pull her bra to rights, but Ty stopped her hands. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Did you want me to drive home this way? It might cause a few accidents.” “Okay,” he conceded, regretfully. “Just let me say goodbye.” Cassie stopped the descent of those wicked lips with a hand to his forehead. “No you don’t. If you start that again, we’ll be in this truck all afternoon and I’d rather not be caught by one of your deputies. Where did you tell them you were going, by the way?” “The bathroom.” Laughing, Cassie shook her head. “Nice. They’re going to think you fell in and drowned. Actually, they’re probably on to us. They know we’re back here, fucking each other’s brains out.” She straightened her dress as much as possible as Ty watched, leering. She gave Ty a shove toward the door. “Lunch hour’s over, lech—you’d better get back to work.” Sobering, Ty climbed out of the truck and adjusted his pants. “You make me forget about Sara for a little bit.” A wave of guilt swamped Cassie. She had forgotten as well. It didn’t seem fair that she was so happy when Sara had just been killed. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to bring you down.” Ty hooked a hand behind her neck and drew her in for a lingering kiss. They broke apart and Ty straightened reluctantly. “How do I look—presentable?” he asked, glancing down at himself. “Rumpled, but nothing that a fifteen minute stint in the men’s room can’t explain,” Cassie told him, reaching out to brush his shirtfront, her fingers lingering over his hard stomach. 42
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Ty’s hand covered hers, pressing it flat against his belly. The heat from his skin radiated through his shirt and warmed her hand. “It’s your fault,” he accused her, leaning in for another kiss. “Mine?” Cassie yelped indignantly. “You’re the one coming into the diner, throwing his pheromones all over the place!” “Well, if you weren’t so fucking hot, my pheromones wouldn’t be demanding that I drag you to a back alley to screw you silly,” he countered, the corner of his mouth curling up in a teasing grin. “Too late—I’m already silly.” Ty laughed at that and kissed her once more before stepping away. After checking that all of her parts were safely inside the truck, he shut the door firmly and leaned toward the open window. “I want you to be careful,” he told her sternly, all humor gone from his face. “You’re out alone at that place—anything could happen to you.” Cassie looked at him curiously. “Is this about Sara’s killer? Wasn’t it Scott?” “No, we’re pretty sure it’s Scott, but—just between us—we’re not sure where Scott is at the moment. So be careful. I’ll be back tonight, but it might be late again.” Torn between shock that Scott was on the loose and a mix of joy and irritation at Ty’s arrogant assumption that she wanted him to spend the night—which she did, but that was beside the point—Cassie could only stare at the sheriff’s broad, retreating back as he disappeared through the rear door of Ginger’s diner.
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Chapter Six Ty actually wasn’t that late. In fact, he caught her as she was finishing up repairs to the barn roof in the last red-tinted rays of daylight. A nasty storm had knocked a few shingles loose earlier in the week, so she had decided that it was a good time to strap on her handy-dandy tool belt and prop the ladder up against the barn. Cassie loved her tool belt—when she was wearing it, she felt capable of fixing anything. The transition from her apartment-dwelling city self and her self-reliant, country-living self had been huge, but she was much more content here at her little farm than she had ever been. And now her stupid visions had returned to ruin all that, she thought bitterly, and slammed the hammer down on a roofing nail with a little too much force. “What the hell?” Ty’s outraged bellow brought her head up. He was standing on the ground, his meaty hands fisted on his hips. Cassie waved at him. “Almost done—I’ll be down in a sec,” she called. “Get your ass down here now!” he roared. Cassie glanced down again, surprised that steam wasn’t actually pouring out of his ears. “Two more nails,” she promised, holding up two fingers. Actually, she was done, but he really needed to be just a bit less bossy. She pounded in two more nails, figuring that it didn’t hurt to have the shingles a little more secure, and carefully picked her way across the roof to the ladder. Her feet hadn’t even left the bottom step when she was plucked off them and swung around to face an enraged Ty. “What part of ‘be careful’ involves you getting up on a roof?” he asked, his voice quiet now and more ominous than the loudest shout. “When you said ‘be careful’, I assumed you were referring to a murderous husband at large. The shingles were loose—what was I supposed to do? Don’t worry, I’m always careful,” she said, tugging against his tightening grip. “Don’t worry? Don’t worry?” he repeated, his voice growing louder as he backed her, step by menacing step, until her shoulder blades were pressed up against the wall of the barn. Cassie stared up at him, eyes wide. The anger emanated from him in almost visible waves. She had never seen him in a temper before and was amazed by how much it turned her on. “You don’t leave my head. Ever. We’re trying to track down a guy who has already killed one woman, you’re hopping around on roofs and I’m not supposed to worry?” He ended in a shout, looming over her. Cassie didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, even to point out that he wasn’t making much sense. Her throat was closed by a mixture of shock and overwhelming lust.
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“Ah, fuck it,” he muttered, and his mouth came down on hers. Desire rushed through Cassie in a roaring flood, making her deaf and blind to anything except Ty. His hands were pulling off her tool belt, unbuttoning her jeans and stripping them down her hips, taking her panties down as well in one purposeful yank. As his kiss pressed her head backward, two fingers worked into her pussy, forging mercilessly into her. Her body opened to him, soaking wet and ready, pliant to his furious demands. With just a few rough thrusts of his fingers, she came, crying out against his voracious mouth. Her legs wobbled weakly beneath her and she sank to her knees in the grass. Ty looked enormous above her, still furious and hugely aroused. Cassie reached for his zipper, carefully working it down over his erection. His pants pooled around his ankles as she slipped a hand under the waistband of his boxers and closed greedy fingers around his cock. His breath hissed out and he shoved his boxers down, impatient to give Cassie full access to his raging erection. She ran curious fingers up and down his thick cock a few times, learning the contours of his flesh. The remaining rays of sunlight illuminated every detail and Cassie was entranced by her close-up view of his dusky, desperate arousal. Her fingertip touched a drop that had leaked from his slit and she smeared it around the bulbous head until his flesh was wet and glossy. “Suck it,” Ty gritted, tangling his hands in her hair and pulling her face closer to his painfully erect cock. Cassie obeyed, closing her lips over the tip of his penis, tasting the salty, musky essence of him. Ty groaned, his head falling back as the warm suction of her mouth pulled at him. Encouraged by the sound, Cassie took him deeper into her mouth, stretching her lips around him. It was the first time she had taken a cock in her mouth and she hadn’t expected it to be so arousing. Cassie figured that it was something that women did for the guy’s enjoyment, but the feel of Ty’s burning hot erection filling her mouth, the smell and taste of him, even the tight pull of her lips around his thick girth—all of it was incredibly erotic. She relaxed her throat and sucked him more deeply, but she still couldn’t manage to take his entire length into her mouth. Wrapping her fingers around the base of his erection, she moved her hand and mouth together, until his entire cock was slippery with her saliva. She played with his balls with her other hand, feeling their weight in her palm and forcing a guttural sound from Ty. His fingers tightened in her hair and he moved her head to the rhythm of his thrusting hips. Cassie almost choked as his cock pressed deeper, but she concentrated on breathing through her nose, swallowing around the broad head bumping the back of her throat. Ty fucked her eager mouth with a restrained violence, his enormous erection filling her again and again as his strong hands controlled the motion of her head. A rough noise tore from his throat as he spilled, flooding her mouth and throat with the taste of him. She swallowed, nursing him dry with gentle pulls of her mouth until his hands loosened on her hair, petting her softly.
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When she glanced up, she caught an odd look on Ty’s downturned face—a mixture of pleasure and affection and something else—before he cleared his expression and smiled ruefully, pulling her gently to her feet. “If that’s the punishment,” Cassie teased, buttoning her jeans, “then I’m going up on the roof all the time.” Ty mock-growled and hooked a threatening arm around her neck, turning her so that her back pressed against his front. “I’ll think of another punishment,” he promised, and kissed her ear. His arm dropped away as he pulled up his boxers and pants, zipping them but leaving them unbuttoned. At Cassie’s curious glance, he shrugged. “I’m just going to take them off in two minutes, anyway,” he explained, tossing a heavy arm over her shoulders as they headed for the house. Cassie gave his crotch an admiring glance. “Quick recovery time.” Chuckling, Ty gave her a shake. “For a shower, my dirty-minded…friend.” Noticing the odd pause, she raised an eyebrow in question. “Well, you are, aren’t you?” Ty asked, letting his arm drop and hunching his shoulders defensively. “Your friend? Sure.” She took his hand. “I’m just curious about what you were going to say instead.” He shrugged, shooting her a quick sideways look. “Dunno. What would you call me?” Cassie pondered that for a moment. What was he—boyfriend? Lover? Fling? Orgasm buddy? It was her turn to shrug. “Friend works. You’re a funny one.” “What?” Ty looked startled at the change of subject. “How am I funny?” “Just that one minute you’re ordering me off the roof and stripping off my clothes and the next you’re all shy,” she explained. Offended, he protested, “I’m not shy.” “It’s not an insult—I like you shy. I like you joking. I like you when you’re being all stern and sheriff-y. I like you bossy—just not too often. I like you naked. I pretty much like you in all moods, although I’m sure there are some I haven’t seen yet, so I reserve the right to possibly dislike you at some point in the future.” Ty snaked his arm around her waist and hauled her against his chest. “I like you too,” he admitted with his curly half-smile and kissed her as her feet dangled above the ground. When he finally pulled back, Cassie had to suck in air. Ty began to walk again, still holding her against his chest. His easy strength was addictive, she thought. There was something so…nice about his ability to haul her around so easily. Probably a throwback to her cavewoman ancestors, she decided. “Want company in your shower?” she offered.
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“Who do you suggest?” he countered, and grinned when she smacked his arm. “Well, I’d better want company, because I’m not putting you down anytime soon.” Satisfied by his answer, Cassie let him carry her into the house.
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Chapter Seven The next day, Cassie perused the coffee selections at the grocery store. The sheriff had left her house early that morning, cranky and caffeine-deprived. If she wanted some sleep-in and cuddle time with Ty, she was quickly realizing that she had to feed his coffee habit. She just hadn’t realized that buying coffee was such a complicated process, she thought, eyeing the shelves with bemusement. “Excuse me,” a woman’s voice said, and a perfectly manicured hand reached in front of Cassie to grab a bag of coffee beans. “Sure,” Cassie said, taking a step back, and then realized with a jolt that the hand belonged to none other than Carol Knight, the recent star of her gruesome visions. “Carol!” she blurted, and the redhead looked at her in surprise. “Yes. It’s…Cassie, right?” Carol asked. “That’s right.” Cassie’s mind raced as she frantically scrambled for words. “I thought you were on vacation.” Carol’s curious expression was turning wary. Great, Cassie thought, she already thinks I’m crazy and I haven’t even told her the crazy part yet. “We had to come back early,” Carol explained coolly, pushing her cart past in the polite, conversation-ending way of the grocery store shopper. “Did you hear about Sara Parker?” Cassie asked in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going. “I heard. Poor woman.” Carol’s cool expression was positively glacial. Great, Cassie thought, she’s someone who doesn’t like gossip. “Does it worry you—having a killer on the loose?” It was a stretch, but maybe she could twist the conversation around and at least warn Carol to be careful. Belatedly, she remembered that Ty had told her about Scott’s disappearance in confidence. “Not really.” Carol’s dismissive tone blocked Cassie’s plan. “It was a domestic situation. I don’t think Scott Parker is a danger to anyone else.” With that, Carol rounded the aisle corner and disappeared. God, what an incompetent psychic she was, Cassie berated herself. What good were her visions if she couldn’t figure out a way to help keep Carol alive? “Do you know why they had to come back?” a voice whispered, making Cassie jump. It was Clara Blake, all five-feet-nothing of her. “Mrs. Blake—hi. What?” Cassie asked, confused. “The reason that the Knights had to come back from vacation early.” The grayhaired woman enunciated each word slowly, as if she thought Cassie was a bit slow.
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“Oh—no, I don’t. Do you know?” Cassie asked, keeping her voice low and glancing guiltily over her shoulder in the direction that Carol disappeared. Gossiping in the grocery store seemed a little sordid, but it was a pretty effective way of getting information. It was for the greater good, Cassie rationalized. “Well…” If she hadn’t been holding a shopping basket, Mrs. Blake would be rubbing her hands together in scandalized glee, Cassie was sure. “I heard that Jeff, her husband, was beside himself when he heard about poor Sara. He insisted that they come back for the funeral.” “Really?” Cassie asked, interested, her pang of guilt about sharing rumors forgotten in her excitement in finding a link between Sara’s murder and her vision of Carol. “Were Jeff and Sara friends?” “More than friends, dear,” Mrs. Blake corrected. “Sweethearts. They were together for such a long time in high school—everyone thought they would get married.” “Was Jeff the boyfriend that Sara broke up with when she started dating Scott?” What a soap opera small towns could be, Cassie thought, trying to sort out the relationships in her mind. Mrs. Blake shook her head. “Other way around. Carol had been chasing Jeff from the moment she knew Sara was interested. She was one of those girls who liked a boy best if he was already taken, if you know what I mean?” She cocked her head at Cassie, who nodded her understanding. Satisfied with the response, Mrs. Blake continued. “Well, young Jeff finally fell for Carol’s machinations when they were all seniors in high school. Silly boy,” she frowned and tsked. “Men always go for the flash and the bosoms.” Cassie choked on a suppressed laugh and Mrs. Blake paused to give her a stern glare before continuing. “I heard that poor Sara got wind of the two of them fooling around, so she turned to that no-good Scott Parker for consolation.” The elderly woman sighed sadly. “And look where that landed her—beaten to death with a metal fence post.” Cassie flinched—she hadn’t heard the graphic details of Sara’s death yet, and hearing the words from the frail, poodle-permed Mrs. Blake was jolting. “Oh, hadn’t you heard that, dear? They say that he beat her in the yard, but she pulled herself into the kitchen—probably trying to get to the phone, poor thing. That’s why I have a cell phone on me at all times. Especially now, with that killer Scott Parker on the loose.” She nodded a few times and then peered curiously at a shocked Cassie. “Now what’s this about you and the sheriff carrying on?”
***** After managing to extricate herself from Mrs. Blake without having to share too many details of her relationship with Ty, she randomly chose some coffee and tossed it into her cart. Her thoughts whirled, refusing to settle. One thing was clear—Carol
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Knight was not going to heed any warning from her. So what options did that leave her, Cassie wondered. An idea nudged at her, but Cassie shoved it away. No, she thought, a panicked knot twisting tight in her stomach, telling Ty what she knew was a stupid, stupid idea. The thought kept returning, however, and no other possible options presented themselves. She delayed so long at the grocery store, walking the few aisles as her mind whirred, that the stock boy began to give her worried looks. With a sigh, she gave up on trying to think of an alternative to telling Ty about her abilities and rolled her cart over to the checkout line, where Grace, the cashier, watched her curiously. “Pity about poor Sara, isn’t it?” Grace asked, running Cassie’s measly few items over the price scanner. “Sure is,” Cassie sighed, thinking that it was also a pity that Sara Parker would forever be known to Napping as “poor Sara.” “Started drinking coffee now, have you?” Grace asked, holding up the item in question before tucking it into a plastic bag. Cassie just shrugged awkwardly, but Grace winked at her. “It wouldn’t be for someone else, now, would it? Say, a certain coffee-loving sheriff?” She chuckled slyly as she handed a flustered Cassie her change and receipt. “Thanks, Grace,” Cassie said dryly, taking her bag from the amused checker. “No problem, Cassie. We’re all real happy for you both.” “That’s just great,” Cassie muttered, too softly for Grace to hear.
***** The building that housed Ty and his four deputies, the entirety of the county’s law enforcement, was across town. Cassie used every second of the five-minute trip to rehearse what she was going to say to Ty, but everything came out sounding, well, insane. As she pushed open the front door of the county building, she braced herself for the worst. Slater was watching the front desk of the sheriff’s office. Ty was nowhere in sight. Cassie felt the tension leak out of her—she was glad that she could put off a decidedly awkward conversation, but she also felt a little deflated that she had worked herself into a tizzy for nothing. “Hey, Slater,” she greeted the deputy. He nodded silently in return. The bestlooking of the deputies, he was also the most uncommunicative. “Is the sheriff around?” she asked inanely. Obviously, since there was no one in sight, the sheriff had to be elsewhere. “Nope.”
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“Any idea when he’ll be back?” Cassie asked, not sure why she was pressing the issue, except that now that she had decided to tell him about Carol, she wanted the conversation done and over with. “Late. He’s following up a lead on Parker.” Cassie was surprised he had volunteered that much. “Thanks, Slater. How’s Crumb, by the way?” That almost brought a smile to his face. “Great. You should see him—he’s really coming along. I’ve never seen a horse pick things up as quick as he does. Smarter than me, I’m pretty sure. You should come out and see him sometime.” “Definitely.” Slater’s farm butted up against some sprawling State lands with fabulous trails. “I’ll toss one of my boys in the trailer and head over to your place for a ride. When’s your next day off?” He shrugged morosely. “Who knows? We’ve been running our asses off—excuse my French—after that son of a bitch Parker—sorry—and we’re going to be going twenty-four/seven until he’s caught. We’ve got other agencies involved, but we’re still the main force.” Cassie nodded sympathetically. “Well, give me a call when you have a few hours and we’ll plan a trail ride.” “Will do. And bring Moose—that Squirrel doesn’t have a brain in his head,” Slater said, disgusted. “Come on, Slater—Squirrel has a brain,” Cassie laughed. “It’s just hidden behind all of his insecurities. Besides, Crumb would be a good influence on him.” “Just so Crumb doesn’t get any bad ideas from that pea-brain,” he said darkly. Cassie laughed again, waving as she left. Outside, she slumped against the truck. What now? The feeling of urgency was building, a general sense of unease that made her antsy and skittish. She could call Ty, but this wasn’t a conversation to have over the phone, especially when he was in the middle of hunting a fugitive. Chewing a hangnail, Cassie tried to draw all of the threads together. If Jeff and Sara had been a couple, and that was the link between Sara and Carol, what did that mean? Was Scott jealous of Jeff because he had been Sara’s golden high school boyfriend? Would Carol die protecting her husband? That didn’t seem to add up, Cassie thought, scrunching up her face in concentration. Except for the menacing, shadowy figure in the kitchen doorway, Carol had been alone in the kitchen in Cassie’s vision. She had been strangled—wasn’t that supposed to indicate a crime of passion? Maybe Scott wasn’t the one who killed Sara. If so, could there be a serial killer in their little town? With Scott on the run, that didn’t seem very likely. If he wasn’t Sara’s murderer, then why would he take off like he did? Sighing, Cassie gave up trying to make sense of everything and climbed into the truck. Stupid visions. If they could just be a little clearer and have a handy timeline
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attached, then maybe she wouldn’t complain so much about them, she thought reasonably, directing an irritated look upward. The truck must have picked up on her pissy mood, because it wouldn’t start. After four futile attempts to get the engine to catch, Cassie gave up and let her head fall forward onto the steering wheel. Obviously, the universe hated her, she decided morosely. With a sigh, she popped the hood and got out of the stubbornly stationary truck.
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Chapter Eight Ty never came to her house that night. Cassie had managed to get the recalcitrant truck started after some fiddling with the engine and some questionable advice from Tom and Jim, her informants from the diner. They had been walking toward the VFW when they had spotted her in the county building parking lot with the hood of her truck up. The two men had hurried over to offer, as they put it, “help”. With their assistance, or maybe despite it, Cassie was able to get home. Once there, time pressed down on her, both flying by and dragging at the same time. She did the barn chores, paced, cleaned the already spotless kitchen, paced, decided she was hungry and made a sandwich, then cleaned the kitchen again. While she scrubbed at the countertop, Cassie rehearsed her upcoming conversation with Ty. Each time she ran through her explanations and his reactions, each imaginary discussion ended with Ty telling her that she was crazy. “You do sound pretty loony talking to yourself like this,” she said out loud. “Stop it, it’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. We’ll all be just fine.” Despite her forced optimistic tone, Cassie’s stomach felt like she had swallowed an anvil. Deciding that her poor, over-cleaned kitchen needed a break, she dragged all of her tack in from the barn and began to clean that. “At least I have productive nervous habits,” she told herself as she scrubbed the crevices in the braided leather of a pair of reins with an old toothbrush. “I could drink, or gamble or…scream instead. At least this way my tack gets cleaned.” Actually, she pondered, screaming didn’t sound so bad right now. The minutes ticked by and still no sheriff. By the time that Cassie ran out of things to clean, it was after ten. She gave up waiting and went to bed.
***** She was woken abruptly the next morning, but not by a large, hot, horny man. Someone was yelling outside, the horses were adding their shrill whinnies to the noise and there was…mooing. Dan’s cows must be out again. Cassie groaned, rolling a pillow over her head to block the sound of the commotion and the early dawn light, but it was too late. She was awake, so she might as well go chase some cows, she thought in resignation and rolled reluctantly out of bed. After throwing on some clothes and tugging her hair back in a haphazard ponytail, Cassie threw Moose’s bridle over one shoulder and grabbed her newly cleaned and oiled saddle. The saddle pads had not escaped her cleaning binge of the night before,
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and she snagged one off the drying rack in the laundry room before stepping out of her house. It was chaos, with Dan’s cows milling around the gravel road in front of her property, a mooing, black-and-white sea creating an island out of a bright yellow hybrid car. Dan’s herding efforts were only adding to the confusion and his steady stream of obscenities merged with the shrill voice of their neighbor, Kathy—the unlucky owner of the surrounded vehicle. “Dan!” How he heard Cassie over the cacophony was beyond her, but he turned toward her approaching figure, his face relieved. “Need some help?” She asked, hitching the slipping bridle higher on her shoulder. “Please do.” It was Kathy who answered, calling plaintively from the open window of her car. “If I’m late for work again, I’ll be fired. I work in St. Paul. My boss has a condo there. The only ‘livestock’ he sees is his Chihuahua. He doesn’t understand the whole ‘the cows were in the road again’ excuse.” “Just give me a sec to tack up,” Cassie told them, and headed for the barn. Squirrel, who was terrified of cows, was galloping the fence line, his head and tail straight up in the air. When he reached the end of the pasture, he stopped, stared at the cows and gave a long, drawn-out snort of fear, wheeled and ran back to the opposite end of the pasture. “Pea-brain,” Cassie sighed as she approached. Moose, on the other hand, was ready for her, hanging over the gate, his ears forward and his expression eager. After tossing the saddle and pad over the hitching post and hanging the bridle on a convenient hook next to it, Cassie haltered Moose and led him through the gate. Squirrel, realizing that his buddy was leaving him to face the horror of the cows alone, grew even more hysterical. Cassie tacked up in record time and swung up into the saddle. Trotting over toward the loose herd, she felt Moose’s energy coiled beneath her. “Let’s go chase some cows, buddy,” she told him, and he flicked an ear back toward her words, as if in agreement. Moose loved being a temporary cowhorse. Despite his Jockey Club papers and his extremely short and inauspicious career on the racetrack, he was good at it too. It wasn’t the first time they had wrangled Dan’s cows back into the relative security of their sketchily fenced lot, so Cassie could pretty much sit back and enjoy the ride while Moose took care of business. She entertained herself by bellowing out Rawhideappropriate phrases and singing a little Gene Autry, although neither Kathy nor Dan seemed to find it amusing. Once the cows were once again contained, Kathy sped off to work with a thankful wave. Dan latched the gate and walked over to where Cassie waited on a self-satisfied Moose. “Thanks, Cassie,” he said, giving the horse an appreciative slap on the neck. “No problem. Moose loves it, and I have a reason to say ‘git along little doggies’. It’s a win-win,” Cassie told him, grinning. 54
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“Don’t know how you stay on there, though, in that tiny bit of a saddle,” he commented, frowning at the offending piece of tack. “It doesn’t even have a horn.” “It’s a jumping saddle,” Cassie explained. “If it had a horn, there could be painful consequences. You should appreciate that, being a guy—hang on a sec, okay?” Her cell phone, which she had jammed in her pocket before leaving the house, was ringing. Cassie bridged the reins in one hand, stood up in the stirrups and dug the phone out with her free hand. “Hello?” “Cassie.” The familiar, deep tone warmed Cassie’s belly. “Ty. You okay?” She tried to keep her voice casual, or at least out of the giddy range. “Sure. The tip turned out to be a wild goose chase—and a long one, at that. I’m just getting back to town.” He sounded tired, his words slow and dragging. Dan was watching her side of the conversation with interest. “That the sheriff? Ask him if he’s caught the bastard.” Cassie shook her head. “Who’s that?” Ty’s voice had sharpened a little. “Dan. Moose and I did a little cow-pushing this morning,” she explained, a little smile curving her mouth at the jealous underpinnings of his question. “Again? Tell Dan to fix his damn fence.” “Sheriff says to fix your damn fence,” Cassie parroted. Dan grunted. “Slater said you stopped by to talk to me,” Ty said, still sounding a little surly. “Anything important?” “Nothing that can’t wait until after you get some sleep.” Hopefully it can wait, she added silently. She knew that this was not the time to broach the topic of Carol being in danger, and it was definitely not a good moment to mention the method in which Cassie had learned of said danger. “He also mentioned that you two are going riding together.” Ty’s voice was overly casual, and Cassie had to grin. So that was the reason for his cranky tone. “Don’t worry, Sheriff,” she told him. “I won’t steal your deputy away until Scott Parker is found and safely locked away.” Ty made a noise that made Cassie pull the phone away from her ear and stare at it in disbelief. Did he just…growl? She heard him talking and hurried to put the phone back so she could hear. “…steal him away at any time—before or after we find Parker, understand?” His voice was so irate that Cassie said, “Sure,” even though she only heard part of his demand, so she wasn’t quite sure what it was she had just agreed to.
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“And don’t patronize me, dammit,” he snapped. Oops, Cassie thought, rolling her eyes. Her tone must have been a little too soothing. The sheriff obviously got a little unreasonable when he missed a night or two of sleep. “Hey, listen—why don’t you go home, get some rest and give me a call later. I have to go…um…Moose is acting up,” she told him. Dan’s eyebrows shot up and he snorted, eyeing the dozing horse under Cassie. She glared Dan into silence. “Have you been sitting on that horse while talking to me?” That tidbit of information obviously did not calm Ty down. “Is that what you call being careful?” he demanded. Cassie’s nose itched and she used the edge of the cell phone to scratch it. When she put the phone back to her ear, he was still lecturing her on safety. “I’m being careful—that’s why I need to hang up now,” she told him with exaggerated patience when he paused long enough for her to get a word in. “Sleep well—I’ll see you later.” “Cassie—” was all she heard before she snapped the phone closed. “What was that all about?” Dan asked, his eyes gleaming with avid curiosity. Cassie shrugged. “Not having any sleep seems to make the Sheriff a tad unreasonable,” she said casually, giving Moose a little nudge with her calves to wake him up. “Understandable,” Dan nodded sympathetically. “No Parker, huh?” “Nope. Wild goose chase, he said.” “Pity. You going to the funeral?” he asked. Although she dreaded the thought of going, Cassie knew she needed to attend. “When is it?” she asked. “Soon as they release the body. Can’t imagine there’s a whole lot of mystery as to how she died, but I suppose they have to follow procedure and all that. The best guess around town is Friday.” Cassie nodded. “I’ll go. How are her parents holding up?” “Not well, from the little people have seen. They’ve holed themselves up in their house and are hiding away from everyone—reporters and friends. Her mother was the one who found her, you know.” Flinching, Cassie shook her head. “Oh, that’s awful.” “Sara was supposed to have gone to her folks’ for supper. She never showed, didn’t answer their calls or anything. They were worried—rightfully so, turns out—so her mom eventually went to check on her. It was the wee hours of the morning by then, but as close as they can tell, that husband of hers killed her the day before, in the afternoon sometime,” Dan elaborated. “Can’t imagine seeing that…” He trailed off, shaking his head. The reminder of Sara’s grieving family was jolting to Cassie. She had been so involved with her vision and her new…whatever it was…with the sheriff and the thought of having to tell him about her abilities that she had pushed the thought of Sara 56
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to the back of her mind. A young, sweet woman whose only mistake had been marrying the wrong man had been needlessly and brutally killed. Guilt swam in Cassie’s stomach for so many things—her thoughtlessness, her inability to have prevented Sara’s murder, her reluctance to do anything about the danger that Carol Knight was in. The unease that she had been feeling the day before returned, stronger than ever. She had to get to town and do…something. Although she wasn’t sure exactly what she could do, Cassie knew she couldn’t tuck herself away and hide until something bad happened to Carol too. She turned Moose toward home. “See you later, Dan,” she called over her shoulder. “See you, Cassie. Thanks again—I thought Kathy was going to throw one of those pointy shoes of hers at my head if I hadn’t got those cows out of her way.” Cassie had to chuckle at Dan’s exaggerated cower, but she sobered quickly as the heavy weight of foreboding smothered her laughter.
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Chapter Nine The problem with Napping, Cassie thought in irritation, was that there was no place just to lurk. Everyone noticed everything. She had been sitting on the lone bench in the tiny town park for only six minutes, and already three people had walked over to check that she was okay. The diner had worked as a lurking point for a couple of hours, but Ginger was not afraid to toss people out once they were done eating. Especially now, when all the excitement about the town’s first murder was drawing a large crowd to the diner every day for lunch to catch up on the latest gossip. Cassie thought about just sitting in her truck outside the Knights’ house, but the last time she had tried that, the sheriff had been called on her. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Not that it had been a bad thing, she thought smugly and wiggled a little on the bench. She checked her watch—it was approaching noon, so surely Ty would have had a chance to catch up on a few hours of sleep. A dart of excitement ran through her as she stood up. His house was just a few blocks away, so Cassie decided to walk. Catching herself hurrying, she forced her feet to slow down. She shook her head in self-digust—one night away from Ty and she was just about jumping out of her skin in eagerness to see him. This wasn’t good. Ty lived in a small Victorian, tucked back on a quiet street—not that any of the Napping streets could be considered loud. His taste in homes did not match his masculine, straightforward exterior, Cassie thought, eyeing the frilly gingerbread trim draping the eaves as she walked up the flagstone pathway to his wraparound porch. At the front door, she paused. Should she just walk in? It seemed a bit presumptuous, but Ty had, after all, just let himself into her house during the wee hours of the morning. Were they at the wander-into-each-other’s-houses-whenever-theypleased stage of their relationship? At the thought of the word “relationship”, Cassie’s mind panicked and, losing her nerve, she knocked on the screen door. There was only silence in response. Cassie was just raising her fist to knock a second time, wondering if he had already headed back to work when the door swung open. Ty filled the doorway, shirtless, sleepy-eyed and testy. When he saw Cassie, the irritated look disappeared and he ran a self-conscious hand over his head. Her eyes dropped to where his sweatpants hung low on his hips, as if a gentle nudge would send them falling to his ankles. Cassie blushed at the thought. “Cassie, hey,” he rumbled and then began to look alarmed. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong. I know that you were sleeping, but I was just in town,” stalking someone, “and thought since I was close by,” and about to be arrested for loitering, 58
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“that I should stop by and see if you needed a…teddy bear.” As soon as the words were out, she felt silly. It had sounded sexy in her head, she thought plaintively. Ty didn’t say anything, but heat sparked in his eyes. Shoving open the screen door, he plucked her off her feet and swung her into his house. In one motion, he shouldered the wooden door closed and pressed her back against it. He was hard. Held off the ground by the push of his body, Cassie could feel his erection burning against her thigh, even through the double layer of fabric—his sweatpants and her jeans. Had he woken up from his nap in this state or was this from their two-minute conversation, Cassie wondered, a little bit flattered at the thought. As if he had read her mind, Ty gave a hoarse laugh. “One day and I feel like I haven’t been inside you for a month,” he admitted gruffly, cupping a heavy hand around the back of her skull. Cassie wriggled a little in pleasure—she was still freaked out about how vital he had become to her in such a short time, and it made things a little more acceptable to know he was right in the same boat with her. Then Ty’s mouth came down on hers and erased all coherent thoughts from her mind, filling it only with the feel and smell of him. Cassie’s legs wrapped around his waist and she ground her denim-covered crotch against his naked belly. With a low groan, he broke the kiss and buried his face in her neck, gently nipping the tendon that ran from her shoulder to her ear. Cassie shuddered, wound tight by the juxtaposition of the controlled power behind the light score of his bite and the soothing caress of his tongue that followed. Although desire was quickly spreading through her body, vibrating through her muscles and setting her skin on fire, the unease that had followed her all day would not leave her in peace. It poked at her brain impatiently, interrupting her freefall into the pool of arousal that Ty so easily awoke in her. She sighed and Ty raised his head to look at her. “If I ask what’s wrong, are we going to have to stop?” he asked. Cassie was pretty sure that he was only partially kidding. “How about the pause button?” she suggested, smiling, and it was Ty’s turn to sigh. He pushed them both away from the door and carried Cassie, her legs still tangled around his waist, into the living room, where he plopped down on an armchair. From the vantage point of his lap, Cassie looked around curiously. She had passed by his house several times, but she had never been inside until now. Although the exterior of the house was all sweet grandma, the interior was definitely a bachelor’s place, with the comfortable leather furniture all facing the flatscreen TV. Newspapers, magazines, legal notepads and his feet fought for space on his coffee table. His feet won out, knocking a few sections of the weekly town paper to the floor as Ty settled in and got comfortable. Unfortunately for Cassie’s peace of mind, his idea of “comfortable” involved his still-erect cock pressing against the seam of her
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jeans, an insistent reminder that they could be doing something much more fun than talking. The sense of urgency that had been dogging at her all day wouldn’t let her procrastinate any longer. Cassie took a second to breathe, fighting to slow her racing heart. Ty was watching her with curious eyes and a lifted eyebrow, so she took a deep breath and plunged in. “I’m worried that something’s going to happen to Carol Knight.” Nothing like getting to the point right away, she thought. “What? Carol? What makes you think that something’s going to happen to Carol?” he asked, looking a bit startled. This was obviously not the topic that he had been expecting. Okay, here is where it gets a little tricky, she thought. Cassie’s mind raced, developing and abandoning prevarication after prevarication in just a few seconds. “I…um…” She rubbed her bottom lip uncertainly, drawing his eyes to her mouth. His erection nudged against her. Steeling herself to ignore the tempting pressure, Cassie tried to focus on finding the right words. “Sometimes, I get a bad feeling—” Hah, that was an understatement, she thought, remembering a few of her more-real-than-life visions. Shoving the vivid memories away, she finished, “And I’m usually right.” “You had a…bad feeling about Carol Knight?” he asked in a neutral tone, but Cassie’s heart sank when she saw that he had his “sheriff face” on. “I know it seems strange,” Cassie stumbled on, “but I know things, and I realize that I should have felt something about Sara, since she’s the one who’s dead, but I didn’t. I don’t know how it works and I wish I didn’t have it, but I can’t just pretend like I don’t know anything and wait to hear from you or Dan or the evening news that Carol has been strangled, but she’s not going to listen to anything I said, so I had to warn you about it—even if it does make me sound crazy.” She stopped the outpouring of words abruptly, unsure if what she had just said made any sense at all. Holding her breath, she waited for the silent sheriff to speak. Ty had leaned back a little and Cassie felt the distance between them as if it were miles instead of inches. “So this is why you were sitting outside the Knights’ place a few days ago?” he finally asked, his voice expressionless to match his face. Had it only been a few days, Cassie wondered, but just nodded. “And was this…‘bad feeling’…the reason that you almost wrecked your truck in front of Dan that same day?” “I didn’t almost—” At Ty’s sharp look, Cassie snapped her mouth shut and nodded again. “So what is this ‘feeling’—some sort of psychic power?” He managed to infuse the word “psychic” with so much scorn that Cassie’s stomach crumpled. If Ty didn’t have her on his lap, Cassie was pretty sure he would be crossing his arms across his chest.
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She shrugged, looking away. “I don’t know what it is,” she told him quietly. “I just saw Carol on the floor of her kitchen and I could tell that she was dead.” “You saw her? Dead?” His muscles had tensed beneath her and Cassie slid backward, climbing awkwardly off his lap. He let her go. Perching on the edge of the sofa, Cassie wondered if he would let her just leave. Despite his bare chest and casual sweatpants, Ty had barricaded himself off from her, just as surely as if he was wearing his full uniform and sitting across a table from her at the Sheriff’s office. She’d had come this far, though, and had destroyed any chance of a relationship between them, so she might as well see if there was anything she could do to help Carol, Cassie thought in hollow resignation. “What do you mean that you saw her dead?” Ty pushed himself forward in his chair. “I don’t know how to explain it,” she said haltingly, feeling for words as she went. “I just see—something. A scene, almost. All I saw was Carol, on the floor of her kitchen, and someone’s feet—that was the second time.” “The second time?” “Yeah.” Cassie smile was devoid of humor. “I was on Squirrel at the time. It was almost an ugly mess.” “Do you ‘see’ things often?” he asked, in such a patronizing tone that Cassie’s head came up as she bristled. “You don’t have to be a dick about it. I didn’t want to have visions and I certainly didn’t want to tell you about them. Do you think I like being labeled a freak?” she demanded, flushing in anger. “Is this what you did?” “What?” Cassie was rattled by the conversational change of direction. “Before. In Chicago and Denver and wherever else you lived. Were you a professional psychic?” This time, the word “professional” got the sarcastic edge. Cassie was shaking her head even before he finished his question. “Are you kidding? I had as little to do with this vision thing as possible. I pretended like they were dreams—hallucinations—until the guilt forced me to try to help, to tell someone, and then, when the rapist was caught or the lost kid was found, I became the local pariah to be ushered out of town, the person my neighbors—people I thought were my friends—would get together and have kicked out of the apartment.” Tears burned against the backs of her eyes—that memory still had the power to knock her sideways. Although his eyes remained cool, Ty looked a little uneasy at her outburst. “So that’s not how you made enough money to move here and not have to work.” With a bitter laugh, Cassie shook her head. “I was a bookkeeper. Before that, I was a kid. So, no, having random visions of death and brutality did not make my fortune.” She sighed, suddenly feeling so drained of energy that she just wanted to get away, to get home to her little nest. “The money is from my mom. She had the
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same…ability…that I do, but hers was different. Less death and destruction and more help at Blackjack. She died, I inherited her gambling winnings and I moved here to live in peace.” Pushing up from the couch, Cassie moved toward the door. She stopped but didn’t turn. “I know you don’t believe me, but if you could keep an eye on Carol, I would appreciate it. Also, please don’t mention this to anyone else. I…I just don’t want to have to move again.” Without waiting for a response, Cassie left.
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Chapter Ten Cassie was haunted. Grief and worry chased after her when she fed the chickens and rode the horses. Anxiety lay next to her in bed, poking at her as she tried to sleep. It did distract her from the frustration, which was good, she thought halfheartedly. It was interesting how she could go years without sex, without any affectionate touching from another human being, and feel hardly a pang, but after only a few nights with the sheriff, she was just one thought away from spontaneous combustion. During the endless nights, Cassie tried to ease her own need, struggling to bring herself to climax, but what had happened so easily, so effortlessly with Ty now eluded her. She gave up, sweaty and nearly crying with frustration and heartbreak. It made her remember why she avoided men—they tended to leave. Although she tried to be bitter and worldly-wise about the whole thing, her body betrayed her. Her senses played tricks on her—making her think that she saw a flash of someone outside the barn or heard a knock on the door. Her heart would jump in hope and she would eagerly step toward the possibility of Ty, only to realize that the movement was just a roving chicken or the sound of a knock was merely an old house’s settling boards, and disappointment and loneliness would hit her hard every time. How he had slipped so easily onto her “necessity” list—that one that included air and food—was a mystery to Cassie. Her fragile happiness of the past two years was now smashed by his absence and she knew she needed to do something about it, because moping was just getting her even more horny, frustrated and sour-tempered. She should know better, her brain berated her drooping heart. Her own father had taken off when she had just been a baby; why should she expect any man to be different? Logic didn’t help much at night, however, when the bed was too big, too empty to bear. Although she was hiding at home, finding a million reasons not to go to town, she couldn’t escape Dan when he tracked her down in her garden. “Hey, Cassie,” he greeted her warily, eyeing the vicious way she was yanking the cowering weeds poking up between the neat rows of vegetables. She gave him a short nod, not pausing in her work. “You mad?” he asked, jumping to the side to avoid being hit by a clod of dirt as Cassie flung a hapless weed out of the garden. Cassie paused, rocking back to look up at Dan. “I’m not mad at you. Just your entire asshole gender.” “Huh.” Dan paused to digest that. “You and the sheriff have a fight?”
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Cassie grunted, tearing out another handful of weeds. Eyeing the potential missiles, Dan began backing away. “Okay, then. I’ll just let you get back to…gardening. I just wanted to tell you that Sara’s funeral is tomorrow afternoon. Thought you’d want to know.” With a quick wave, he left, almost running away. Cassie’s hands slowed and she sighed. She dreaded going to the service—she didn’t even want to dodge into the grocery store for a fresh supply of pain-numbing ice cream, much less face a certain hostile sheriff in front of dozens of curious onlookers. She made a face. Depending on whether Ty had kept his word or not about not sharing her secret with anyone, the curious onlookers might be hostile as well. Despite her reluctance, she knew she had to go. The uneasy feeling of impending tragedy was still hanging over her, mixing with her guilt and heartache to form a truly gut-wrenching cocktail. The funeral would be a good place to find out more about the connection between Sara and Carol. Besides, Cassie wanted to go to the funeral to pay her respects. Although she hadn’t known Sara very well when the young woman was alive, Cassie felt a connection with her, partially from hearing so many stories about Sara’s short life, but also because Cassie hadn’t had any visions to warn her about the murder. Great, Cassie thought ruefully, I feel guilty when I see them and I feel guilty when I don’t. Since she wasn’t going to win either way, she might as well finish the weeding, she decided, tossing another green handful to the side. She wished that Dan had stayed. Weed hurling had been more fun with a target.
***** Cassie found herself joining the steady stream of people climbing the front steps of the church on Friday afternoon. Although she dreaded appearing in public, she couldn’t have lived with herself if she hadn’t come, she glumly acknowledged. The small church was packed. It appeared as if the whole town had made it to the service. Cassie paused at the entrance, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. Even before she could see clearly in the gloomy interior, she picked out Ty’s massive form standing in back on the opposite side of the church. Her traitorous heart jumped at the sight of him and she quickly glanced away. “You two have a fight?” Cassie glanced around at the question to find Deputy Tweedle behind her. She eyed him carefully, looking for…something. Excess curiosity, maybe. Horrified fascination. Disgust. Some emotion that showed that Tweedle knew about her visions. The expression on his round-cheeked face was the same as ever, though—just a look of good-natured interest as he waited for her answer. “You could say that. What’s with the law enforcement gathering?” Cassie asked, noticing that Slater and a third deputy, Julie Sorenson, were standing at different points around the back of the church.
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“Funerals have a way of bringing people together,” he explained cryptically, raising his eyebrows in a way that was meant to convey his hidden message, but only managed to make him look like a startled doll. “You’re hoping that Scott Parker will show up here?” she asked doubtfully, and Tweedle shushed her. “Don’t say it so loudly,” he hissed, glancing around. “You’ll cause a panic.” “Sorry,” she said, pressing back a smile. She risked another glance in the sheriff’s direction and caught him watching her. Ty whipped his eyes away as soon as she turned her head, but Cassie’s skin prickled with the afterburn of his hot blue stare. “Huh,” Tweedle grunted. “Well, we all wish that you two would kiss and make up already. He’s as cranky as a bull with an electric prod up his— Ah, anyway, he’s in a really bad mood,” he finished, amending his words with a sheepish glance at Cassie. “Sorry, Tweedy. Don’t think it’s going to happen,” she told him with a depressed sigh at the reality of those words. “He’ll be fine once he starts dating someone else.” Her depression fired into jealous rage at the thought of Ty with another woman, and she must have looked murderous, since Tweedle started backing away from her, his palms opened in innocent defense. “Whoa, there, Cassie—didn’t mean to piss you off! And I don’t think that the sheriff’s going to start dating someone else anytime soon. Took him, what—two years?—to build up enough guts to ask you out.” Tweedle gave her a mournful look. “So no chance of you two getting back together? It was really nice working with him when he was getting— Ahem, I mean, when you were getting along.” “Don’t know what to tell you,” Cassie began to move away from the deputy, eager to end the conversation. She had only gone two steps before someone snagged the sleeve of her dress. It was Tom, a frown on his deeply creased face. “What happened between you and the sheriff?” he demanded, and Cassie sighed. “It’s Sara’s funeral, for God’s sake. Why is this the main topic of conversation?” He shrugged but didn’t release her sleeve. “I guess death just makes love more important. Circle of life and all that,” he explained. Cassie stared at him, suddenly wanting to smile. “What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his skinny chest. “Nothing. It’s just strange to hear you being…I don’t know…deep.” “I can be philosophical-like,” he huffed. “So what are the two of you fighting about?” “Nothing.” Cassie tugged free. “I mean, we’re not fighting because we’re not speaking and therefore cannot fight.” “So what were you fighting about?” Jim chimed in from his spot next to Tom.
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“Nothing!” Feeling hunted, she continued down the aisle, her eyes searching for an open spot. She had only managed a few more steps before someone else hailed her— Ginger this time. “Cassie, over here! Where have you been, sweetie?” she called from her position in the middle of the pew. “Not with the sheriff, that’s for sure, judging by his mood lately.” A few people within earshot snickered. Cassie felt like turning around and going home. She had known it would be a bad idea to go to the funeral. Too late—Ginger was already waving her into the pew, elbowing tiny Mrs. Blake into shifting over. Resigned, Cassie shuffled her way past the people already seated to the newly cleared spot next to Ginger. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, carefully stepping around protruding knees and feet. Even before her rear hit the pew between Ginger and Mrs. Blake, both women began chattering to her. Cassie let the words blur into a babble of meaningless sound, nodding occasionally if one of the women paused for a second, her eyes on the casket. It seemed so sad that it had to be closed. Cassie had always thought that the whole concept of viewing a dead body was creepy, but not being able to see was a hundred times worse. The imagination can beat out reality any day, she thought grimly. Sara’s parents sat in front, looking broken and small, huddled together. Cassie’s gaze automatically searched for the Knight family, finding them on the other side of the church a few rows back. Carol sat stiffly upright, occasionally directing a reprimanding glare at her wriggling son—what was his name? Preston? Quinton? Something trendy, Cassie thought, giving up the memory search. Jeff was slumped next to her, and Cassie was shocked by how haggard he looked. He always had a kind of nerdy attractiveness—like James Bond pretending to be a college professor, but today he just looked pasty and crumpled. “Jeff Knight sure looks rough,” she interrupted Mrs. Blake’s flow of words. The elderly woman was a little startled, but quickly acclimated to the conversation change. “Well, they were high school sweethearts, you know,” she said, her head nodding up and down like a bobblehead doll. “Hmmm,” Ginger jumped in, her tone skeptical. “I dated Nathan Klausky for half of my junior year of high school and I can’t imagine being that torn up about it if I heard he was dead.” Mrs. Blake gave her a condescending look. “Dear, you can’t call it dating if the whole football team was involved.” Cassie choked on a laugh as Ginger glared at the elderly woman. “That is not true. As if I would’ve dated the quarterback,” she retorted with disgust. “The ego on that kid was out of control.” “It does seem a little extreme,” Cassie said doubtfully. “Oh, but it’s true, dear,” Mrs. Blake asserted. “Most of the football team, at least.”
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“She’s talking about Jeff Knight!” Ginger corrected her. “And quit telling that story about me. That was more than thirty years ago—can’t we have new gossip?” “Well, if you would do something a little wild, Ginger dear, we would have something else to talk about.” Mrs. Blake shot a sideways glance at Cassie. “Or if someone else would do something more interesting with the sheriff than not talk to him…” Cassie opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut as the crowd hushed for the beginning of the service.
***** Afterward, people gathered in small knots outside the church. Cassie was inching toward her truck when she saw the sheriff moving purposefully toward her. His path blocked her escape route to the parking lot. Panicked, she turned and hurried in the opposite direction, darting around the side of the church. As she fought her way through some decorative hedges, she glanced behind her to make sure that Ty wasn’t following her. “Oof,” she grunted as she bumped into something solid—a person, she quickly realized. “Sorry,” she gasped, stepping back to glance at the poor man she had just crashed into. It was Jeff Knight, looking even more pathetic close up than he had from across the church. He didn’t respond to her apology, but just stared at her, dazed. “Are you okay?” she asked. Jeff’s face crumpled in on itself as he began to sob— harsh, tearing, ugly noises. Cassie was flummoxed. Should she do something, she wondered. Hug him? She was so bad at this…well, people stuff. Reaching out with a tentative hand, Cassie gave his heaving shoulder a quick, light pat. Jeff grabbed her, locking her against him in a hard squeeze as he sobbed against her shoulder. She awkwardly patted his back, her eyes darting around, hoping for rescue. Where was Carol—shouldn’t she be the one doing the consoling, Cassie thought desperately. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Jeff mumbled, dropping his arms and turning his face away. “You must think I’m crazy, the way I’m acting. Sorry.” He stumbled away as Cassie watched his retreating back, startled. “Well, that was strange,” she said out loud after he disappeared around the corner of the church. “Serves you right for running away from me,” growled a voice behind her. Cassie jumped and spun around to find Ty behind her, his fists on his hips. “How long have you been standing there?” she demanded. Instead of slowing, her startled, racing heartbeat notched up to warp speed when she saw him.
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“Long enough to see your little cuddle.” Instead of glowering with jealousy, however, he just looked thoughtful. Cassie wondered if she should be offended by that. “You’re not really good at the whole comforting thing, are you?” he asked. She shrugged, looking away. “He startled me,” she muttered. “And no, probably not.” Reaching out, he brushed back a strand of hair that had toppled into her face. “I’ve missed you,” he told her. Cassie stared at him with wide eyes. This was definitely not what she had been expecting when she saw him stalking her across the parking lot. “Last time we talked, I got the impression that you thought I was insane.” “A little, yeah,” he admitted. “So what’s changed?” she challenged him, taking a step back for some vital breathing room. There seemed to be a direct relationship between how close the sheriff stood to her and the inability of her brain to function. Ty followed her, stepping forward until he was close enough that she could feel his body heat. Cassie gritted her teeth, determined to hold her ground. She tilted her head back so that she could still see his face. “I’ve had time to think. And time to be without you,” he explained. “So I’ve come to a few conclusions.” His fingers brushed over her upper arm, awakening a toofamiliar vibration under her skin. “What conclusions are those?” Her voice squeaked at the end and she mentally cursed. Damn Ty and his addictive, brain-disrupting touch, and damn her silly heart for jumping at the opportunity to be close to him again. She knew Ty had heard that betraying note in her voice. His mouth curled into that half-smile that drove her crazy—the same one that she had dreamed about, only to wake up hot and restless and yearning. “Well, there were three explanations. One, you were running a scam. But,” he held up a hand when she jerked away and scowled, “this didn’t seem very likely, since you didn’t seem to expect me to believe you and you didn’t want me to tell anyone. Also, if you were going to do something like this, you would have set up a ‘Madame Cassandra’s Palm Reading’ shop long before now. Instead, you hide out at your place, not telling anyone about your supposed ‘psychic abilities’. By the way, is Cassandra your real name?” Her scowl deepened as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, so my mom had a warped sense of humor. What of it?” “Nothing—just wondered. Anyway, the other option is that you were telling what you thought was the truth, which means that it either really is true, or you honestly believe that you have…visions or whatever.” He paused.
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“Which means that you think that I’m either psychic or psychotic,” Cassie concluded flatly. “And how do either of these options make you all smiley and loveydovey again?” Both of Ty’s wide hands covered her shoulders as he looked down at her mulish face. He was still smiling. “When I’m alone, staring at my bedroom ceiling at night, crazy doesn’t seem so bad.” Cassie was dumbfounded. “So you think I’m crazy, but you’re okay with that?” His hands slid down her arms. “I’m aware that it might be a possibility,” he admitted. “But I’m keeping an open mind. I’ve put a car on the Knight house.” Her emotions a tangled mess, Cassie couldn’t think of anything to say. Even as relief melted through her at the news that Ty had taken her concern about Carol Knight seriously, she was torn between hurt and anger and longing and, surprisingly enough, amusement at the whole insane situation. Ty’s smile turned sheepish. “I came to one more conclusion,” he admitted, ducking his head in a way that Cassie refused to find adorable. “What’s that?” she asked suspiciously. He released one of her arms and scrubbed a hand over his hair. “That I acted like a jackass the other day.” Cassie snorted. “Yeah, you did.” “A huge jackass,” he amended. “Enormous,” she agreed, pressing back the beginnings of a grin. Ty frowned. “Enormous? Really?” “Enormous.” “Oh.” He considered that for a minute. “I’m sorry.” The apology startled her. The simple sincerity of it brought the shaky threat of tears, locking her throat so that she could only nod tightly in response. With an uncertain glance at her expression, Ty continued, “My grandma believed in them—you. Psychics, I mean. Went to them. Called them. Spent who knows how much money so they’d tell her what she wanted to hear.” He paused for a second. “She missed my Grandpa too much. She needed to think that he was still…around. I used to wonder who could take advantage of an old lady like that. How they could take her money and tell her lies.” “Why did it have to be lies?” Cassie asked. He shrugged, watching her closely. “I didn’t believe in any of it. I like facts, evidence that I can see and touch—that I know is real. Not this ghosts and visions shit.” He flinched slightly. “Sorry. You know I don’t mean…” Taking a deep breath, he cupped her shoulders in his hands and started again. “You knocked me sideways with the whole psychic thing and scrambled up everything I thought I knew. I know you’re real. I know you. I know you’re not a scam artist or a liar and I know I go fucking nuts when I’m not around you. I know I…” He broke off, breathing hard, staring at her. 69
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She opened her mouth, but Ty forestalled any words by kissing her. His lips sparked a rush of feelings—of homecoming, of relief, of safety—before his tongue parted her lips and touched her own tongue, plunging Cassie into a frenzy of need. His hands spread over her back, sliding down her spine to cup the cheeks of her ass, and she melted into him. Air brushed against her knees and then her thighs as Ty’s fingers inched up her skirt, seeking access to her silky panties hidden underneath. Cassie shuddered against him, and only the sound of voices, coming from an uncomfortably close location, gave her the strength to pull back. With a protesting grunt, Ty tightened his arms around her. Pushing against the solid blocks of his shoulders, Cassie hissed, “Spectators!” After a few seconds, the word penetrated and his arms loosened. Jumping away, Cassie smoothed her skirt down and brushed at her hair with self-conscious hands just as Carol Knight rounded the corner, her son in tow. She stopped abruptly when she saw them. “Have either of you seen Jeff?” Carol asked, looking back and forth between a blushing Cassie and a grinning sheriff. “Sure, about…” Cassie glanced helplessly at her watch. She had no idea how long she had been back here with Ty. “Ah…not that long ago. He seemed pretty upset.” She thought Carol stiffened a little at that. “He went that way,” Cassie told the other woman, pointing. “Thanks,” Carol clipped out, moving in the direction Cassie had indicated and tugging her son along. “Come on, Blaine.” “Blaine,” Cassie muttered to herself. “I was way off.” “What?” Ty looked at her curiously. “Nothing.” She shook her head to clear it. “Did Jeff seem overly upset to you?” Without waiting for an answer, she moved to follow Carol, but Ty grabbed her arm. “Whoa, there. What, being psychic isn’t enough—you have to go all Encyclopedia Brown on me too?” he asked, giving her a little shake. Cassie made a face. “Encyclopedia Brown? He was such a priggy know-it-all. Couldn’t I at least be Nancy Drew?” “You can be neither.” Ty pulled her behind him and set off after Carol. “I’m the sheriff—I follow the suspiciously sad people. You—” He walked backward a few steps so he could point a strict finger at Cassie. “You should just stay out of trouble. If that’s possible,” he added in a mutter.
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Chapter Eleven The unsettled feeling followed Cassie around during evening chores. It was growing stronger, making her stomach churn bitterly. “I’ll probably get an ulcer before this whole thing is over,” she grumbled out loud, dragging the hose out to fill the horses’ water tank. Her cell phone rang, making her start and drop the hose. Swearing at her own jumpiness, Cassie dug the phone from her pocket and answered curtly. “Bad time?” Ty’s rumbling voice warmed her, easing a little of the anxiety that had been building in her since their run-in behind the church. “No, it’s fine. Did you talk with Jeff?” she asked curiously. “Yeah.” Cassie waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. “And…” “And nothing. You know I can’t talk to you about this, Cass.” “But it was my suspiciously sad lead!” she wailed. “You can’t cut me out of the loop.” “It’s an open investigation,” he told her firmly. Interesting, she thought. “So Jeff did have something to do with Sara’s murder?” “Cassie?” Ty’s voice was very polite. “Yes, Sheriff?” “Drop it.” Cassie sighed, but complied. “So, are you coming over tonight?” She winced as the words tumbled, unbidden, out of her mouth. The silence echoed in her ear for a few seconds. “Do you want me to?” He had dropped the “stern sheriff” tone and sounded a little tentative. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t, since you think I’m probably certifiable, but I’ve thought that once or twice, so I can’t really blame you.” “Okay,” he said slowly. “See you tonight, then?” Cassie bit the inside of her cheek, her sense of self-preservation tussling with the rest of her. “Yeah,” she finally agreed. “Your deputies should be happy, at least.” “What? What do they have to do with anything?” “The word on the street is that your mood is considerably better when you’re getting some,” she told him.
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Ty muttered something rude under his breath. “This town. Do you ever miss living in a big, nice, anonymous city?” he asked. Cassie laughed. “Nope. I don’t even need satellite TV here. I get all the drama I need just going to the grocery store.” “Yeah—there’s been a little too much drama lately,” he said. “See you tonight, then.” After she said goodbye and snapped her phone shut, the temporary feeling of euphoria brought on by Ty’s call was shoved out by a fresh rush of anxiety. She tried to ignore it, but Cassie knew what this tension, this suffocating pressure meant— something bad was going to happen. Soon.
***** It was late, but she was still in the barn, sweeping the tack room. Sleep was impossible, as the anticipation of Ty’s arrival mixed with her overall unease kept her wide awake and needing to move. “Couldn’t sleep?” The vocalization of her internal musings made her jump and swing around to face the door, even as Cassie wondered if she just imagined it. She hadn’t—Ty filled the doorway, one massive shoulder propped against the frame. “Sorry, were you looking around for me?” she asked, clutching the broom in front of her with both hands, taken off guard by his sudden appearance. Every time she saw Ty, she was startled by how big he was and how her heart thudded heavily just from looking at him. “Nope. Saw the light,” he said, his voice gravelly. He pushed off the doorframe and walked deliberately toward her. Cassie watched him, mesmerized, as he approached. Ty smiled as he gently detached her frozen fingers from the broom and set it against the wall without looking away from her. “God, I missed you,” he muttered, cradling the side of her face in one hand. When he leaned in, Cassie closed her eyes, expecting a kiss, but he buried his face in her neck instead. “I missed how you smell like pine shavings and marshmallows. I missed how soft your skin feels.” His thumb brushed the line of her jaw. Ty’s voice was muffled against her skin and his breath tickled against her neck, making Cassie squirm with need. “I even missed the sound of your voice, even though what you say can aggravate me to no end sometimes.” Growling, he nipped her throat. Her knees went weak and Cassie grabbed at his shoulders to keep her balance. She quivered against him, tilting her head back to give him better access as he kissed his way up her neck until his mouth hovered over hers. “You know what I missed most of all?” he asked, his voice rough and unsteady. “What?” Her voice was as shaky as his. 72
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“How it feels to be inside you, with your body squeezing tight around my cock. That’s the most amazing—” His words broke off abruptly as his mouth came down hard on hers. As if the kiss had flipped a switch, they both tore frantically at clothes— their own, each other’s—desperately trying to feel skin against skin. Their days of separation felt like years. Without breaking the contact of their mouths, Ty walked Cassie backward until her naked back was pressed against the cool paneled wall. His palms ran down her back and cupped her bottom, lifting her off the floor. Cassie’s legs circled his hips, opening her desperately hungry pussy to him. With a single thrust, Ty filled her, his rigid cock ruthless as it surged home. Cassie wailed as he entered her and her flesh stretched around him, clamping around his erection as if to keep him inside of her forever. Her ankles tightened on his lower back as he began to withdraw; she didn’t want Ty to leave her body ever again, not even for a few seconds. She was no match for his strength, however, and he pulled almost all of the way out. As he slammed back into her, the slippery friction of his cock against her inner walls made them both groan. His strokes grew faster, driving Cassie higher and higher, his body crushing hers against the wall with each pummeling thrust. The first wave of her orgasm broke over her as she bit Ty’s shoulder, holding onto him with her arms and legs and pussy and teeth as she exploded around him. With a snarl, Ty pounded into her, driving her against the wall until he buried his cock as deeply as he could, filling the very center of her. As soon as Cassie spun back to earth and slowly opened her eyes, still panting for breath, Ty was waiting, watching her with his smoldering gaze the hot blue of a blowtorch flame. Her heartbeat, which had just been evening out, sped up again. She smiled. “Why don’t I trust that evil look of yours?” she purred, and Ty gave her a wickedly tilted grin. “Because you’re smart,” he told her smoothly, crossing the tack room with her still wrapped around him. He hoisted her higher, and Cassie made a disappointed noise as he slid free of her body. “I just figured we should take advantage of where we are.” Before Cassie could figure out his meaning, Ty had tugged her legs free from around his waist and turned her around to face an empty saddle stand. It was a beautiful stand, sturdy enough for the heaviest saddle and built from smooth, polished wood in the round shape of a horse’s barrel. As Cassie eyed the stand with trepidation, she saw Ty reach out and snag a thick, soft cotton lead rope off a horseshoe-shaped hook nearby. She sucked in her breath but didn’t protest as her hands were bound behind her. Her heart was racing. She felt anxious and thrilled and incredibly turned on all at once. Ty’s heavy hands against her shoulders tipped her until she was leaning over the stand, the wood cool and solid against her belly and breasts. He nudged her thighs apart with his own leg, wider and wider, until she had to stand on the balls of her feet to support her weight.
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Cassie could hear him moving around but couldn’t see what he was doing. A thick feeling of helplessness melted her, and liquid trickled down her thighs. Cassie tried to press her swollen and hungry clit against the stand, but the angle wasn’t right. She squirmed in frustration. “Be still.” The command was reinforced by the pressure of something against the exposed cheeks of her bottom. Ty ran the length of the object against her sensitized skin and Cassie recognized what it was—a crop, the short one that she carried when jumping Moose or Squirrel over fences. She felt the leather loop on the end of the crop trace patterns on her sensitized skin with the lightest of touches. It trailed through the crevice of her ass and tickled the tight hole of her anus. Shivering in anticipation, Cassie held her breath as a mixture of nerves and excitement tumbled around in her belly and fresh moisture leaked from her pussy. Ty teased her with the crop, tracing her folds and drawing patterns in the wetness that smeared her inner thighs. Her fingers worked helplessly in their bonds, grasping only air. The crop flicked against her, spiraling around the hungry nub that begged for stimulation. The circles grew smaller and smaller, and Cassie wriggled against the unyielding stand and then froze, afraid that Ty would stop if she moved. To her unbearable relief, he didn’t stop. Instead, the leather loop grew closer and closer to her swollen clit. Cassie sucked in short gulps of air, her whole world focused on the flicking crop. The circles tightened even more, until the crop tapped against the center of her hungry flesh. Cassie moaned and twisted her hips as the light slaps against her clit sent arrows of sharp pleasure through her. The teasing leather end of the crop disappeared and Cassie gave a small cry of frustration. It returned almost immediately, and the thicker handle end of the stick slid easily through her wet folds, like an exploring finger. Ty nudged it between her pussy lips and pressed it inexorably into her slick passage. The cool, foreign feel of the crop as it entered her was strangely arousing. Cassie tightened her muscles around the object, trying to pull it more deeply into her, but Ty was teasing her, tugging the crop out just as her body tried to grasp it. She felt the wet path of the end of the crop as it moved up to tease the clenching pucker of her rear entrance. The tip pressed through the tight ring of muscle and moved in and out, waking the hidden nerves and sending darts of dark pleasure up Cassie’s spine. Needing more, she thrust her hips toward the invader, trying to take more of the stiff object into her. Cassie was startled by this strange and intense new need, this fierce desire to have her ass stretched and filled. “Please, Ty,” she moaned. “I want you.” The crop wasn’t enough—she needed his thick cock entering her. The crop was pulled from her and Cassie heard it hit against the wall as Ty tossed it away. His fingers were on her now, overwhelmingly real and hot and human after the impersonal attentions of the crop. “Fuck, Cassie,” he gritted, plunging two thick fingers into the wet heat of her pussy.
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“Please do.” Her laugh was choked and pleading, changing to a moan as he found her clit with his thumb. She jumped, startled, as his free hand came down on her fleshy bottom with a loud smack. Her movement pushed her body down on Ty’s probing fingers and she groaned again. The blood rushed to her ass cheeks as he spanked her, sensitizing her skin to almost unbearable levels. He seemed to know exactly how hard to slap his calloused palm against her reddening flesh, exactly where to land to make the fire raging inside Cassie flame out of control. Everything—her tied hands, her straining legs, even her toes struggling to grip the floor—added to the conflagration building in her, fueled by the heavy smack of his hand and his thrusting fingers. When Ty pulled his hand free, a protesting cry was torn from Cassie as her empty pussy clenched on air. To her relief, the head of his cock nudged against her entrance and she pushed back against him, trying to force him to fill her. Ty stopped her movements with hard hands on her hips, holding her pinned against the stand for an eternity of seconds. Suddenly, he drove his iron-hard erection into her, lifting her feet off the ground with the force of his thrust. Cassie came, tumbling into such a fierce storm of sensation that she fought against it, struggling against the wooden stand and the solid wall of Ty’s body, twisting her bound wrists in a mindless panic. Ty flattened his body against hers and subdued her easily, holding her to him as wave after wave of ecstasy broke over her, murmuring soothing nonsense words in her ear even as his erect cock throbbed inside her. She shuddered, her muscles collapsing as her orgasm waned. Hanging limply over the stand, her tears plopped onto the tack room floor. As he untangled her wrists from the lead rope, Ty gently pulled his still-hard cock free of her body. Too hazy to protest, Cassie just drooped across the saddle stand until Ty tugged her upright, easing her back until she leaned against him. “Hey, baby, don’t cry,” he told her, wiping at her face with the ball of his thumb. “Did I hurt you?” Cassie mustered the strength to shake her head. “No?” A thread of panic underlined his soothing tone as her tears continued to track down her cheeks. “What is it then, Cass?” “Are you going to be one of those guys who always has to talk after?” she asked, her voice a little snuffly. After a short, startled silence, Ty barked out a laugh and bent to kiss the side of her neck. “Sorry, I’ll try to restrain my emotional neediness,” he told her dryly and swept her up. “Shoes,” she reminded him, and he grunted, glancing around the clothes-strewn tack room. “Suppose I should bring my clothes too—don’t want to have to make a ‘walk of shame’ out here tomorrow morning while Dan’s out feeding the cows.” He carefully sat 75
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Cassie on a tack trunk before gathering up their clothes. Plucking her bra from where it dangled off a bridle hook, he offered it to her, grinning. “Thanks,” she said, not bothering to put it on. To Ty’s obvious disappointment, she did yank on her shirt and jeans. Although he found her panties in the corner, they were shredded beyond wearability. “Can I keep them, then?” Ty asked hopefully, dangling the remains of the silky fabric on one finger. “No, you perv.” Cassie snatched them away from him and tossed them into the trash, turning back to see Ty watching her carefully. “Did you mind…what we did?” he asked tentatively. Cassie raised an eyebrow. “Calling you a pervert struck home, did it?” she teased, but relented when she saw his serious expression. “Are you kidding? I loved it, as if you couldn’t tell.” Ty looked unconvinced. “I was just so frantic for you that I never stopped to ask if you were okay with everything. And then at the end, you know, the crying…” Rolling her eyes, Cassie couldn’t help but smile at the picture he made, with his earnest expression, standing stark naked and still erect in the middle of her tack room. “It’s just been a rough week,” she explained, although she wasn’t sure if she even knew why she had broken down like that. “Everything built up until, well, the dam broke and the floodwaters came crashing through.” Walking up to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. It was like hugging a tree, she thought, and then almost giggled when her belly brushed against his erection. A tree with a really stiff branch, she mentally amended. “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully. “So the thing with the whip?” “Amazing.” “And the spanking?” “Even better.” His eyes were starting to heat again as he circled her with his arms, letting his hands slide down until they cupped her bottom. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted me to fuck your ass?” That one made her blush, and she dropped her eyes to stare at his chest. “Well, yeah,” she admitted, her cheeks burning. “Not that I’ve ever tried it, but I think I would like it. With you.” She risked a glance up at Ty’s face, and he looked hungry enough to swallow her whole. “Let’s go,” he barked, throwing on his pants and jamming his feet into his boots. Cassie grinned at his hurry, but her smile disappeared into a squeal when Ty tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. “Not sexy,” she complained to his back. “Not romantic at all.” His only response was a grunt as he almost ran to her house.
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Inside, he flipped her onto her feet. Right-side-up, Cassie grew shy, but he tilted her chin up and kissed her softly. “Whatever you want to do, baby girl,” he told her, his eyes serious. “You want to sleep? We’ll sleep. You want to fuck? Well,” he grinned, “you know I’m up for that.” Her heart twisted as she looked up at him, so sweet and serious. “I love you,” she said, the words slipping out of her without thought. Aghast, she slapped both hands over her mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid, her brain raged at her mouth. What the hell were you thinking? Ty looked startled, but then grinned, pulling her hands from her mouth so he could kiss her. “Finally,” he growled, leaning in. “What?” Cassie blocked his approach with a hand to his forehead. “What do you mean ‘finally’? It’s been a week. The normal guy response would have been for you to run away.” Tugging her hand down, he kissed her palm. “More like two years of following you around like a pathetic puppy dog. I told you I don’t care if you’re crazy. Doesn’t that say love to you?” “Not really.” Cassie’s eyebrows knit together. “It just says that you think I might be insane.” “Well, I do—love you, I mean,” he said. “And being away from you for just a few days just about drove me crazy, so let’s not do that again.” Ty’s mouth was so close to hers that she could feel his words against her lips. Confused and agitated and exhausted, Cassie could only laugh. Ty pulled back in surprise and lifted one eyebrow in question. “Try to find that greeting card,” she explained, giggling. “‘You may be psychic, you may be certifiable, but I love you anyway.’” He smiled. “I’ll suggest that one to them,” he promised, and swung her up in his arms. “Bedtime for you.” “You’re always carrying me around,” she complained, but relaxed in his arms. “Makes me feel manly,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time. Cassie rolled her eyes. “Like you need any help with that,” she said sarcastically. Ty just grinned at her as he dumped her on the bed.
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Chapter Twelve He was very grateful the next morning for the coffee she had gotten for him. So grateful, in fact, that Cassie discovered her kitchen table was extremely sturdy and Ty ended up leaving much later than he had initially planned. She watched him go from the front porch, smiling and waving as he drove away, trying to ignore the uneasiness creeping back. Ty had banished her anxiety for a short time and she had slept deeply, dreamlessly—when he had let her sleep, she thought with a small smile. As she headed toward the barn to feed the horses, Cassie knew that she needed a plan. Time to be Nancy Drew or, as Ty had called her, Encyclopedia Brown. She made a face. Okay, definitely Nancy Drew. So the first thing would be to talk to Jeff Knight. Cassie felt a twinge of guilt for ignoring the sheriff’s direct order to leave it alone, but quickly dismissed it. If the universe wanted her to drop it, the universe would not send upsetting visions or feelings of general unease, and the universe’s orders had to trump the local sheriff’s, she rationalized. So, on the orders of the universe, Cassie found herself at the Knight’s house again. She lifted her fist to knock several times, only to lower it without touching the front door. “Chicken,” she muttered to herself. “Something wrong, Cassie?” a voice called, and she jumped and turned, feeling guilty. The Knights’ across-the-street neighbor, Rupert Hotchkins, had stopped edging his neurotically neat lawn to watch her curiously. “Everything okay?” he asked again, taking a step in her direction. Forcing a casual smile, Cassie waved to Rupert. “Everything’s fine,” she called back. “I just have a question for Carol.” Rupert nodded but kept watching, which meant that Cassie actually had to knock this time. After only a few moments, Carol swung open the door, her expression of polite inquiry cooling off dramatically when she saw Cassie. “Cassie. What can I do for you?” she asked, her tone so chilly that Cassie actually shivered. “Ah…um. Hi,” Cassie started again brightly. “I was just…um, checking on Jeff. He seemed pretty upset yesterday…” Carol’s face froze and the rest of Cassie’s planned speech dried up without leaving her mouth. “And how,” Carol spit out, “is my husband any of your business?” 78
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“He’s not! My business, I mean, of course. We were just talking and he seemed so torn up about…” Carol’s expression turned murderous and Cassie began backing up, almost falling off the porch steps. “But I’m sure he’s fine, so I’ll just be going. Nice to see you, Carol, have a good day…” She babbled nervously until Carol slammed the door. “Okay,” she breathed, not quite sure how that conversation had gone into the toilet quickly. Walking toward her truck, Cassie shook her head. “You’re no Nancy Drew, my girl,” she told herself. “You’re not even a what’s-her-name, the annoying Encyclopedia’s friend.” “She didn’t seem too happy.” Rupert’s dry comment brought Cassie’s head up and she realized that she had been having a conversation with herself. Out loud. Not the best way to prove that you aren’t crazy, she thought. “Your yard looks beautiful, Rupert,” she said, which was true. Not a blade of grass was out of place, and the flowers were so perfect that they looked artificial. Rupert flushed with pleasure. “Why, thank you, Miss Cassie.” “It’s the truth,” she said, crossing the street. “So, how’ve you been?” “Can’t complain, can’t complain. Although June’s been a little worried, with what happened to that poor Sara and the Parker boy running loose and all.” Cassie nodded sympathetically. “He’s probably in another state by now. And even if he’s not, I can’t imagine he would try to hurt you or June.” “’Course not. That’s what I’ve been telling her, but when my wife gets an idea in her head, it’s in there for good. What’d you say to Carol to get her all worked up?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject back to the topic that Cassie wanted to avoid. Oh well, she thought. Might as well see if she could get any information from Rupert and make this trip to town worth something. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Jeff seemed so upset yesterday at the funeral, so I stopped by to check on him.” Rupert nodded thoughtfully. “Well, he seemed okay when I saw him this morning, although we only exchanged a few words. Said he was bringing that boy of theirs to summer camp.” “That’s good—that he seemed okay, that is,” Cassie said. “I didn’t mean to upset Carol.” “Not too surprised, myself.” Lowering his voice, he confided, “She’s always been a jealous one. A pretty woman like you, coming over to ask about Jeff—well, I could see how that would push all her buttons at once.” “Really?” she asked. “It’s not like I’m listening on purpose,” he hurried to say, “but being this close to them, sometimes we can hear things.” “Arguing, you mean?” she asked.
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Rupert shook his head. “Wouldn’t call it arguing. More her yelling and him just taking it. Henpecked, I’d say. Biggest mistake of his life dropping that poor, sweet Sara for her.” He gestured with his head toward the Knight house. “Carol might be prettier, but pretty is as pretty does and all that.” Cassie nodded, her mind chewing over this information about Carol and Jeff. Was that why he had been grieving? Lost opportunities and a wrong choice so long ago? Or was it the death of the last woman he had been in a relationship with who had actually been nice to him? “The sheriff, now, he’s made a good choice—pretty and good-natured,” Rupert said slyly. “Heard the two of you made up.” “How did you hear that already? I barely know that!” she exclaimed in exasperation, her hands on her hips. Chuckling, he said, “Oh, Terrance was by with the morning paper and he said that he had stopped by for a cup of coffee at Ginger’s, and she said that Dan had mentioned to her that a certain sheriff’s vehicle was parked at your place all night.” He patted her shoulder when Cassie closed her eyes and groaned. “Don’t get in a dither about it, now—we’re all happy as can be for the both of you.” With a weak smile, Cassie said her goodbyes and headed for her truck. She sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, trying to separate what she actually knew from the unreasonable worry that crowded her mind. So Jeff and Carol had a bad marriage. What did that have to do with Sara? Was Jeff going to follow Scott’s lead and strangle Carol? Her cell phone rang, jolting Cassie out of her thoughts. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew who the caller was going to be. “What does ‘drop it’ mean to you?” The sheriff’s voice was ferociously calm. “This town is amazing. I haven’t even left the curb yet!” she marveled, not able to suppress a smile at hearing Ty’s voice, even if he was pissed at her. “Did you forget that we’re watching her house?” he asked. Oops. She glanced down the street and saw the cruiser. Slater gave her a twofingered wave. “Guess I did. Don’t worry; I didn’t learn anything. Carol kicked me out before I could get more than a few words out. According to Rupert Hotchkins, she’s a bit on the possessive side.” “Cassie.” “Yes, Sheriff?” she responded sweetly. “Leave. It. Alone.” “Of course. Hey, Ty?” “Yeah?” His voice was suspicious. “Do you have your stern sheriff look right now?” Cassie purred, trying not to laugh at his growled response. “Okay, okay—I promise not to bother the Knights any more today,” she told him in as innocent a tone as she could manage. 80
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Ty grunted. “Why isn’t that reassuring?” he asked. “You are going straight home, right?” “Sure, of course,” she promised, a little distracted. “Although I’m going to check with your deputy about our riding plans first. Will he be able to get a day off anytime soon?” “Not if he’s going to spend it riding with you.” Cassie grinned at his surly tone. “You can come with us—I’ll lend you Squirrel.” “Are you trying to kill me?” he demanded indignantly. “Why can’t I ride the sane one?” “Squirrel’s not that bad!” she protested, but relented. “Fine, you can ride Moose. Although you don’t need to be there just to protect me from Slater.” “Yes, I do.” The growl was back. “He’s too pretty.” “You’re prettier,” she told him, smiling. “Yeah?” Now the sheriff sounded pleased. “You think I’m pretty?” “The prettiest sheriff in this whole darn town,” she said. “Although I’ve just been informed by Rupert that pretty is as pretty does.” Just like that, Ty was back in protective mode. “He wasn’t talking about you, was he?” “’Course not. He actually informed me that he was glad we were back together.” “What the hell? How does he know already?” Ty asked, sounding harassed. Cassie grinned. It seemed funnier in the telling than it was in the hearing. “Oh, from the paper boy who heard it from Ginger who heard it from a certain neighbor of mine who can’t build a solid fence but has time to watch who parks in my driveway all night.” Ty swore. “This town. So are you going home or do I have to worry about you?” “I’m going, I’m going,” Cassie promised. “Are you coming over tonight?” “Well, I was going to ask you out on a date, but—” “A real date?” she butted in. “Us? I didn’t think it was possible!” “No need for sarcasm,” Ty said. “Especially because I can’t tonight. We got a hit on one of Scott’s credit cards—he used it in Beaverton.” “Beaverton? The Beaverton that’s only—what? Twenty miles away?” Cassie was shocked. Why hadn’t Scott gotten as far away as possible after the murder? It was eerie to think of him so close. “Fifteen,” Ty corrected her grimly. “I need everybody, so I have to pull Slater off the Knight house.” Although her stomach knotted at the news, Cassie understood. To him, it was just a hunch. Ty hadn’t see Carol’s body in gory Technicolor like she had. “Cass?”
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“No, it’s okay. I understand. Be careful, though, okay?” “Always.” His voice was solid, steady, and it calmed Cassie’s butterflies a little. “Love you.” “Love you too.” The words still felt awkward to her, but she said them anyway.
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Chapter Thirteen She couldn’t help it. Her instincts had been talking to her for a whole lot longer than Ty had been ordering her around. Those very instincts were the reason she was peering through the darkness of the Knights’ backyard, trying to see what was going on in the dimly lit living room. Despite the twinge of guilt Cassie felt at the thought of Ty’s reaction to her hiding in the trees that rimmed the Knights’ yard, everything in her was shrieking that Carol Knight was in danger. Slapping at a mosquito that was trying to alight on her face, Cassie rose to her toes, trying to get a better view through the sheer curtains covering the window. She had been watching for over an hour, and all she had managed to discover was that Carol was a fairly uninteresting person to spy on. So far, all she had done was sit and stare at the flickering TV screen—a screen that, unfortunately for her boredom factor, Cassie couldn’t watch from her hiding place. Jeff was nowhere to be seen. If he wasn’t back yet from dropping Blaine off, camp must be quite a distance away, Cassie pondered. Another mosquito bumped against her eyelashes. “Next time, Nancy Drew,” she muttered to herself, blinking and batting the insect away, “bring bug spray.” With a bored sigh, Cassie glanced at her watch, pushing the button that lit up the display. It was half past ten, two whole minutes later than the last time she had checked. She considered leaving, but something held her rooted in place, continuing the world’s dullest stakeout. Movement inside the Knight house perked her up. Carol had turned off the TV, getting up and stretching—heading for bed, Cassie assumed. The living room lights were turned off, and Cassie strained her eyes trying to see into the darkened house. After a few minutes, an upstairs window lit up, eventually followed by another. “Seriously,” the logical part of Cassie’s brain spoke up, “nothing’s going to happen tonight, except more mosquitoes coming to join the buffet line.” She knew it was true, but something would not let her leave. One at a time, the upstairs lights were extinguished and Cassie was watching a dark house. Minutes crawled by slowly, and Cassie checked her watch so many times that she finally had to take it off and put it in her pocket to retain her sanity. Her mind wandered to the sheriff. She wondered if he would be waiting for her when she got home. He wouldn’t be happy if she wasn’t there when he arrived. A small, wicked smile curved her lips as Cassie thought about what possible punishment Ty would think up for making him worry. He would definitely have his stern sheriff face on, she mused, her grin growing at the thought. A low, thudding noise jerked Cassie from her happy daydream, making her jump. Although her common sense told her that it probably was nothing, her heart began to 83
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beat heavily in her ears. An upstairs light was flicked on and the bright square told her that whatever the noise had been—a knock, maybe?—someone in the house had heard it too. Light followed Carol down the stairs and into the kitchen. As Carol stalked through the kitchen, Cassie watched through the window, the details of the room so horrifyingly familiar that they stopped her breath. Everything matched her vision, except for the fact that Carol was still alive. Carol yanked open the side door. Obviously startled, she dropped her hand from the doorknob and backed up several steps. Cassie couldn’t see who was outside the open door from her vantage point, so she moved into the open lawn of the backyard, abandoning her hiding place amongst the trees. Her view of the visitor was still blocked, and Cassie moved closer. Carol was talking to the invisible person, gesturing in agitation, obviously upset. Carol moved backward and Cassie saw her visitor step into view—Scott Parker! “Shit!” Cassie yelped, and ran for the side entrance. She didn’t have a plan, or a weapon, or really anything of use, but she knew that if she didn’t do something, Carol would be dead, her hair spread out across the tile floor, her face purple from lack of air. The door was open, and Cassie could hear their raised voices as she approached. She stumbled to a halt, still outside Scott and Carol’s view, sanity finally overcoming blind panic. Yanking her cell phone from her pocket, she hit a button, bringing up Ty’s cell number, and pressed “send”. It seemed to take forever for the call to go through, and Cassie backpedaled, realizing that if she could hear Scott, he would be able to hear her talking to Ty as well. Backing down the flagstone path leading to the side door, her heel hit something that fell over with a crash. Her stomach dropped as she looked down and saw the remains of an empty clay flowerpot. Scott was out the door and coming at her just as she heard Ty’s voice on the other end of the phone. Cassie only managed to blurt out “Carol’s—” before the phone was snatched out of her hand. Scott shut the phone, ending the call, and grabbed her arm with his other hand as Cassie turned to run. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Cassie berated herself mentally as Scott threw her phone across the yard into the darkness. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, dragging her inside Carol’s house and slamming the door behind them. Cassie opened and closed her mouth, but her throat was tight with panic and no words could escape. Carol’s eyes widened when she saw Cassie. “What are you doing here?” she echoed, sounding irritated. “Trying to help you,” Cassie retorted, her words freed by Carol’s obvious lack of welcome. Although it had been a pretty pathetic rescue attempt, at least she had tried,
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Cassie thought indignantly. Scott’s tightening fingers painfully reminded Cassie of the danger she was in, and she shut her mouth. Scott gave a humorless bark of laughter. “Help her? Why? That bitch deserves everything she gets,” he snarled. In the bright glow of the overhead light, Scott looked terrible. His face looked gaunt, as if he had lost weight, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. She could smell him, a sour mix of body odor and fresh fear. A shiver flew through Cassie as she realized that she was looking into the face of a killer. Her stomach heaved and she concentrated on not throwing up. “How did you know I was here?” Scott asked, giving Cassie a rough shake, which didn’t help her growing nausea. Her brain blanked. “I…I…just knew,” she stammered. His fingers burned around her upper arm. “How?” Scott gave her another shake. Panic had wiped her mind clear—all that remained was the truth. “I saw it. I see things.” Her voice was high-pitched with fear. “What, like you saw it in your mind?” His voice was skeptical. Cassie just nodded dumbly. He stared at her. “So can you see the future?” Cassie shrugged affirmatively and shrank back as Scott pulled her closer. “Did you see her do it?” he demanded. “What?” Cassie’s confused gaze darted from Scott to Carol and back again. “Did you see that bitch kill my wife?” He was screaming, flinging droplets of spit at Cassie’s face. Dumbfounded, Cassie could only shake her head, comprehension slowly creeping in. “Carol?” she asked, glancing over at the other woman, who had backed unnoticed across the kitchen. Carol lunged for the hallway and Scott dropped Cassie so suddenly that she stumbled back, crashing into the refrigerator. Scott chased after Carol, catching up with her just a few feet down the hallway. Cassie heard them thump against the wall. Carol’s scream, quickly muffled, drove Cassie into motion. She flew to the block of knives and yanked out the first one her hand closed on. “Shit,” she muttered, dropping the serrated bread knife with a rounded end. Her second grab was more successful, and she held the sharply pointed weapon with both shaking hands as Scott, one thin, muscle-roped arm around Carol’s throat, half-dragged the redhead back into the kitchen. “You want to drop that,” he told Cassie, his voice unnaturally calm. “I can break this vicious bitch’s neck faster than you can even touch me.” Cassie hesitated, holding the quivering knife in front of her. Scott’s arm tightened and Carol’s face turned red, and then almost purple. Cassie dropped the knife, hopping
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to the side when it bounced and almost hit her foot. Scott laughed, a humorless bark of sound, but his arm relaxed enough for Carol to choke in deep breaths of air. “You never answered my question,” Scott said conversationally. Cassie tore her gaze from Carol’s frightened face. “What?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Did you see her kill my wife?” he asked. Although his voice was calm, his eyes shone with tears. Shaking her head, Cassie watched him closely. “I didn’t see what happened to Sara. Everyone thought you—I mean, you left and…” She trailed off, not sure of the best way to finish the sentence. Accusing someone of murder when he had someone else in a chokehold did not seem like the wisest thing to do. Scott was turning his head from side to side in a continuous, exaggerated “no”. “I loved her,” he cried. “How could I have killed her?” Cassie noticed in alarm that Carol’s face was turning red again as his arm tightened around her neck. “Okay, okay.” Cassie tried to keep her tone soothing, but she was afraid that it was more hysterical than anything. “You didn’t kill her. Why do you think that Carol did?” “I saw the bitch leaving our place. She passed me in that green yuppie station wagon of hers and I knew why she had come by. I just didn’t expect…” Scott’s voice broke and he used his free hand to roughly smear away the tears on his cheeks. His irises looked bright green against their bloodshot background as he stared at Cassie. “I found her in the kitchen.” “I didn’t kill her,” Carol croaked, fighting against Scott’s restraining arm. “Shut up, you murdering bitch—I saw you!” He tightened his hold until Carol’s struggles turned frantic. “Stop! Scott, stop—you’ll kill her!” Cassie screamed at him, watching Carol’s darkening face in horror. “So? She deserves to die. She killed Sara,” he shouted back, but his arm loosened and Cassie sagged with relief at the sound of Carol’s rasping coughs as she was able to breathe again. “Why?” Cassie asked, desperate to distract Scott. “Why would Carol kill your wife?” Scott’s face twisted. “They were going to leave.” “Who? Who were leaving?” “They were having an affair,” Scott spat out, rage and grief ravaging his voice. “Sara and that spineless bastard.” “Jeff?” The tangled threads were finally connecting in Cassie’s brain. “Jeff and Sara were going to leave both of you and run off together?” she asked in dawning comprehension. “He was never going leave me for that twofaced slut,” Carol rasped.
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Scott face flushed red with rage. “Don’t talk about my wife that way, bitch!” An angry pulse beat in his temple. “Carol, shut up!” Cassie commanded in an overflow of terror and splintered nerves. “Shut up or he’ll strangle you, and I really don’t want to see that again, okay?” Carol looked mutinous, but clamped her lips together. “Why didn’t you tell the sheriff about seeing Carol? Why run away?” Cassie asked. Scott gave another humorless laugh. “Yeah, because he would have believed me. I picked up that fencepost and threw it aside. I ran through puddles of my wife’s blood. I held her still-warm body against me.” Fresh tears filled his eyes and his voice grew ragged. “Who would he have believed?” he demanded. “Me? The wife-beater covered in her blood? Or little Mrs. Perfect here? The perfect mother. The perfect wife.” Scott spat out, giving Carol a vicious shake. “You could have tried me.” The voice came from the kitchen door. Cassie’s heart jumped at the familiar deep tone. Her head whipped around to the doorway, where Ty stood, his gun pointed directly at Scott’s head. “Let her go, Scott,” Ty commanded. “Enough of this vigilante shit already. Let her go and let me do my job.” The entire room held its breath as the muscles quivered in the arm wrapped around Carol’s throat. The vein throbbed violently in Scott’s forehead before he shoved Carol forward, hard enough to make her stumble and fall to one knee. Slater darted out from behind Ty to handcuff Scott, who stood broken, staring blindly at the floor. “Thank God, Ty—I thought he was going to kill me.” Carol rubbed her throat as she stood up, her face bleached against the fall of dark red hair. The sheriff nodded expressionlessly. “Please turn around, Carol.” “What?” She stared at him blankly. “Why?” “You are under arrest for the murder of Sara Parker,” he recited, unhooking the handcuffs from his belt. “Excuse me? Is this a joke?” Carol gave an incredulous laugh, but Ty’s expression didn’t change as he handcuffed her hands behind her back and read Carol her rights in a flat, even tone. It sounded surreal to listen to the familiar words, Cassie thought, words repeated so often on TV shows and in movies. Words she had never expected to hear in real life. Ty passed Carol off to another deputy—an unusually somber Julie— who escorted the still-sputtering woman out of the house. Only then did he turn to Cassie, his face greenish-white beneath his dark tan. Cassie’s legs were shaking under her and she leaned against the edge of the counter so she wouldn’t fall over. “Did he hurt you?” Ty asked. His voice was low and tightly controlled. Cassie shook her head. “Did she hurt you?”
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Another no. He raised a hand toward her, as if to touch her face, but then lowered it when he saw how hard it was shaking. “Do you realize how many years you’ve taken off my life?” he gritted out. Opening her mouth, Cassie tried to answer, but the words were still stuck. She settled for shaking her head again. “I never—” He was interrupted by Slater clearing his throat in the doorway. “Sheriff, did you want me to seal this place off for the crime scene guys? They’re on their way from the Twin Cities, so they’ll be here in an hour or so,” Slater asked. Ty ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah, thanks. Tweedle and I will take Parker and Carol in.” He looked back at Cassie. “You feel up to making a statement?” he asked. This time she nodded. Yes, no—Cassie felt like a bobblehead doll. “Okay, let’s go.” Ty escorted her out with a hand at the small of her back. The familiar touch forced tears to build up behind Cassie’s eyes and she blinked hard, forcing them back, determined not to break down. As they left the Knights’ kitchen, Ty suddenly tugged Cassie away from the door into a shadow, pressing her up against the rough siding of the house. “God, Cassie,” he growled hoarsely, and then kissed her hard, bruising her lips with his own. Cassie welcomed the painful pressure—it reassured her that she was alive, still able to feel. After too short a time, Ty ripped himself away and stared down at her, breathing hard. “We should go,” he said, not moving. “If we don’t leave right now, I’m going to fuck you against this wall.” It seemed wrong, after everything that had happened, but a part of Cassie really, really wanted him to follow through on that promise. The small portion of her brain that was still functioning logically knew that this was not a good idea. “We should go,” she echoed softly. Ty stared at her for another long moment, but then nodded tightly and stepped back so Cassie could walk in front of him toward the flashing red and blue lights of the sheriff department vehicles. “Later,” he said quietly, and Cassie shivered at the threatening promise of that one word.
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Chapter Fourteen It was the wee hours of the morning and Ty still hadn’t come home. Cassie hadn’t even tried to sleep, but paced endless circles around Ty’s living room instead, too wound up to even take advantage of his absence to do a little snooping. Besides, she thought, peaking through the blinds at the empty street for the thousandth time, she had probably pushed enough of Ty’s buttons for the night. She shivered, remembering the blue-white flare of his eyes, the tight line of his usually generous mouth. He had sent her home after what seemed like an infinite time and hundreds of questions, escorted by a subdued Slater under strict instructions to bring her to Ty’s house, make sure she got in safely and wait until she locked the door. One glance at his face had told Cassie not to argue, not that she had particularly wanted to go to her own isolated home. At least here she knew that Ty would be joining her eventually. Headlights outlined the slats of the window blinds, drawing yellow lines on the living room wall and pulling Cassie from her thoughts. Her stomach jumped in apprehension and relief as she watched the SUV pull into the driveway, a random streetlight reflecting off the Sheriff Department emblem on the side of the vehicle. Hurrying to unlock the front door, she swung it open as Ty was climbing the front steps. He froze, his eyes fixed on her. For a second, time was still. Cassie didn’t even breathe, but stared back at Ty. The dim light turned his face into a mask, cutting severe angles into his cheeks and darkening his eyes. With two long strides, Ty closed the distance between them, sweeping her against him as he entered the house, kicking the door shut behind him. His lips found hers despite the darkness in a grinding kiss as he flattened her against a wall. Circling stars flashed behind Cassie’s eyelids before he let her go. She could only suck in a quick breath and then Ty’s mouth was on hers again, possessive and ferocious. “Don’t. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That. Again,” he ordered in a rasping growl, separating each word with a hard kiss. She was panting before the sentence was done, straining toward him. The vestiges of fear and adrenaline shot through her veins, fighting to be released. In mindless desire, Cassie tore at the front of his shirt and bit at his lips. Ty didn’t even bother with shirts, but just ripped at the fastenings on her jeans, yanking them down her thighs, just far enough that he could shove her panties to one side and plunge two thick fingers into her soaking wet pussy. Cassie groaned with incredible relief as the digits invaded her body, thrusting into her hungry flesh with arrogant ownership. 89
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Desperate to have him filling her completely, Cassie abandoned his half-opened shirt to struggle with his zipper. Despite her frantic urgency making her fumble, she managed to free his swollen cock. It was incredibly hot under her fingers, scorching and iron-hard. It was his turn to groan under her touch and Ty pulled his hand from between her legs so that he could grasp her hips with both hands. The wall shook with the force of his thrust as he entered her, his fingers biting into the flesh of her hips. Ty hammered into her, each stroke deeper than the last, driving her higher and higher. Cassie screamed his name when she exploded and he followed her over, coming in endless jets of ecstasy. Ty flattened her against the wall as he leaned against her, panting. Letting her forehead fall to his shoulder, Cassie felt him breathe in the sweaty slide of her skin against his. “You’re still in a hell of a lot of trouble.” The threatening rumble made Cassie smile. “I know. I will take my punishment like a man.” Ty pulled back a little so he could raise an eyebrow at her grinning face. “Saying it like that makes me a little uncomfortable.” She laughed and then squeaked as Ty swung her into his arms. “Do I finally get to see your bedroom?” she asked when she recovered her voice. “Yeah. You better hope you like it, too, because you’re not getting out of it anytime soon,” he threatened. Cassie just laughed again. Memory of the previous evening surfaced and she sobered quickly. “Did Carol really kill Sara?” she asked, not even sure if she wanted to know. Ty’s chest heaved with his sigh. “Yeah,” he answered heavily, shouldering the door to his bedroom open. Carefully placing Cassie on her feet in front of him, he began undressing her. “What’s going to happen to her? And to Scott?” she asked, obediently holding her arms up so Ty could pull her t-shirt off over her head. When it was off, she shook her hair out of her eyes and looked up at him, waiting for an answer. Pushing a light strand away from her face, Ty looked weary. “Prison, eventually. Carol made a full confession. She admitted that when they were up at the cabin, Jeff told her he was leaving her for Sara. Carol stormed out, grabbing the car keys on her way. It’s a two-hour drive back to Napping, but she said that she had needed to confront Sara, talk to her, somehow convince her to break it off with Jeff. Carol found Sara out working on the Parkers’ old utility shed, pulling down the chicken run fencing. “Anyway, Sara wouldn’t even talk to Carol, but started walking away, back toward the house. Carol said she just lost it. In a rage, she grabbed one of the uprooted metal fence posts and swung it as hard as she could, hitting Sara in the side of the head. Carol beat her with that metal post until her arms couldn’t lift it anymore.” Cassie made a small, horrified noise and Ty’s eyes focused on her again.
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“Sorry,” he apologized gruffly, sliding his hand around her head to cup her skull. “I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you.” “No,” she reassured him. “I needed to know. Did you tell Jeff?” “Yeah,” he said with a heavy sigh. “He wouldn’t admit that he knew, but how could he not? His wife disappears for hours after he tells her that he’s leaving her and then his lover turns up dead? I’m pretty sure he knew that Carol was responsible. He wasn’t taking Blaine to summer camp after all—they were moving to Iowa to Jeff’s sister’s place. They’re going to live there until Jeff finds a new job far away from here and Carol.” “Wow.” Cassie was quiet for a moment as she absorbed that. “I just don’t understand why I didn’t have a vision about Sara’s murder. Why did I see Carol’s death and not Sara’s? Why wasn’t I able to help save Sara? Not to be judgmental or anything, but why was I able to save the murderer and not the victim?” Ty shrugged. “Don’t ask me—I’m the psychic newbie, remember?” That made her smile. “So you don’t think I’m insane anymore?” “I never really did,” he admitted. “I knew that you would drive me insane, but—” Ty broke off, laughing, when Cassie punched him in the stomach. Sobering quickly, he held her face gently in both hands, his expression intent. “What?” she finally asked after several seconds of weighted silence. “You can never leave me,” he told her. Cassie dropped her eyes from the intensity of his, trying to break the tension with a teasing smile. “I do have to go feed the horses in the morning.” Sliding his hands from her face to her shoulders, Ty gave her a gentle shake. “I’m serious. Tonight nearly killed me. After you called—” he broke off and cleared his throat. “No more,” he started again, his voice determined. “No more climbing on roofs, no more flirting with my deputies—no.” He held up a hand when Cassie opened her mouth to protest. “I’m not finished. No more dropping by kitchens where homicidal women and violent, bereaved husbands are facing off. No more running after clues like a half-baked private detective. You come to me, tell me the clues and I run off halfbaked, do you understand me? No more—” It was Cassie’s turn to interrupt him by pressing her lips to his, effectively shutting down his tirade. The kiss lengthened, deepened, until they were both lost in its depths. Ty tipped her chin up and touched his lips to the underside of her jaw, making Cassie shiver. “I’m still pissed at you,” Ty murmured, nuzzling her ear. “Mmmhmm,” Cassie agreed, concentrating on the electric current running across her skin. His lips were so clever, so beguiling, that she hardly felt it as, with a few deft movements from Ty, the rest of their clothing fell to the floor. His body nudged her back, further and further, until his bed pressed against the backs of her legs. With unconscious ease, Ty lifted her up and tossed her onto the bed,
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turning her in midair so she landed on her front in the billowing softness of his comforter. “Have I ever told you that I love your ass?” he growled, making Cassie giggle and then gasp as his hands gripped the round globes, fingers massaging the giving flesh. “You might have mentioned it a time or two,” she managed to squeak out before his marauding hands robbed her of the ability to speak. Ty knelt on the bed between her sprawled thighs, grasping her hips to pull her to her knees. When she moved to push herself up on her hands, his heavy palm between her shoulder blades kept her down. She accepted the position and relaxed, resting her cheek against the covers, her back curved to offer her bottom to him. With a satisfied grunt, Ty moved his restraining hand, following that suggestive line of her spine to tease the shadowed crevice at her tailbone. Using his knees to nudge hers further apart, he opened her to his hungry gaze. Cassie shook as she felt the heat of his eyes burning into her sensitive flesh. When his fingers followed his gaze, she shuddered in relief, desperate for his touch, even if it was just a teasing graze of his fingertips along the groove that separated her bottom. She arched her back to press toward Ty, seeking his attentions. To her disappointment, he pulled away instead. Cassie’s face was turned away from the bedside table, but she heard what sounded like a drawer opening. Her muscles tightened in excitement tinged with a hint of fear, sending ripples of pleasure radiating outward from the center of her pussy. Her exposed position allowed cool air to tickle the damp curls between her legs, making her shiver, but from heat, not from cold. The mattress moved as Ty reclaimed his position behind her. Although she was expecting his touch, Cassie jumped when his fingers grazed her bottom. Expectation had driven her need to such heights that just that light brush against her skin brought a wild rush of pleasure. His fingers had delved into the crevice between her cheeks again, cool and slippery with lube, while his other hand found her clit, rolling the swollen nub into desperate stiffness. Both of his hands teased her sensitive flesh, overwhelming Cassie with lust and excitement and impatience. She pressed back, trying to drive those too-gentle fingers into her, but Ty just chuckled and continued his torment. “Patience is a virtue,” he murmured wickedly, circling her clenching back hole with a slick fingertip. “Fuck patience,” Cassie gritted, making Ty laugh. Furious, she thrust her bottom toward him again, making a futile attempt to end his maddening teasing. “I’d rather fuck you,” Ty growled, plunging two blunt fingers into her pussy at the same time that he invaded her ass with a digit from his other hand. Cassie cried out with sheer relief as he filled her, front and back, pleasure and pain weaving together in an overload of sensation. Her rear opening clenched around the trespasser, unaccustomed to the stretching pressure. 92
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Ty pulled his fingers back, almost sliding free, and Cassie felt only a second of aching emptiness before he plunged back in, her natural wetness and the lube allowing him to slip easily inside her. Her body adjusted, softening and giving in to the double intrusion. A second finger worked its inexorable way into her anus and Cassie groaned. “Okay?” Ty stilled as he waited for her response. Bombarded by the new sensations, Cassie didn’t answer until he took her silence for a “no” and began to gently withdraw. “Don’t stop—I’m okay, I’m okay,” she hurried to reassure him, anxious and worried that he would leave her empty and hollow. “Sure?” he asked, but his invading fingers were already working, moving together in synchronized thrusts. Cassie pushed back, matching his rhythm, the movement abrading her stiff nipples against the comforter, adding another point of pulsating pleasure to the maelstrom. As his fingers moved faster, so did her body, driving her higher and higher until she could feel her climax approaching. Ty pulled his hands away. Cassie was left hanging for only a few moments before she felt another pressure against the now-hungry opening of her anus. The hard, slippery tip of his cock demanded entrance, relentlessly stretching the tight ring of muscle. With a guttural groan, Ty lodged himself deep inside her ass. He paused, allowing her to adjust to the incredible feeling of fullness. Cassie could feel a pulse, whether his or hers, she wasn’t sure. Her whole body throbbed—with lust, with excitement, with pain, with fulfillment. Tentatively, she pressed back against Ty, amazed that he was actually inside of her there. Not only was he cock-deep in her ass, she marveled, but she was pretty sure that she was enjoying it. Ty moved inside of her, breaking her train of thought. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in, allowing her muscles time to give in to him, to relax and yield. “Faster,” Cassie begged, impatient for more. “Harder.” She heard Ty’s breath hiss between his teeth before he slammed into her, filling her so completely that she felt as if he took all of the space inside her body. Dropping into a sudden climax, Cassie’s breath was snatched away. Her teeth sank mindlessly into her own clenched forearm as his hand slid between her legs to squeeze her clit, catapulting her into the fiercest orgasm she had ever experienced. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her as Ty drove into her again and again, his fingers digging into her hips as he hammered into her. He exploded and she felt his hot juices filling her ass, triggering her final, shuddering peak. Cassie went limp, her legs sliding out behind her as she collapsed onto her stomach. Ty followed her down, his enveloping mass covering her completely. It would have been claustrophobic if it hadn’t been Ty, Cassie thought muzzily, before heavy sleep sucked her down.
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Chapter Fifteen Something wasn’t right, Cassie thought, her brain blurry and begging for more rest. The room was lit with the bright morning sun and Ty was wrapped around her like an octopus—seriously, how many limbs did this man have?—but something was nagging at her brain, not letting her fall back into oblivion. Nothing’s wrong, she tried to reassure herself. Everything’s quiet and peaceful and—that was it. If her arm hadn’t been pinned to her side by Ty’s heavy bicep, Cassie would have slapped her own forehead. The quiet was the problem—no horses yelling for their grain. She made a halfhearted attempt to move out of bed, but Ty grumbled in his sleep and pulled her closer. She eyed her abandoned jeans—so close, yet so far away—before she realized that her cell phone, instead of resting snugly in her jeans’ pocket, was lying where Scott had chucked it last night. Last night. Everything rushed back in a stomachcramping flood. Shoving the horror-filled memories to the back of her brain, Cassie concentrated on her most immediate concern—getting her horses fed. She worked one arm free and reached for the phone on the bedside table. As she moved around, small twinges of discomfort reminded her of Ty’s explorations during the night and she felt a blush heat her face. Pushing that memory back to join the others in the pile marked “deal with it later”, she dialed Dan’s number. No one answered. “Sure, he’s there whenever I don’t want him to be,” Cassie grumbled under her breath, glaring at the unhelpful phone. Dan didn’t have a cell—he considered cell phones to be high-tech handcuffs. “You really don’t want me to sleep anymore, do you?” Ty asked. Her blush returning, Cassie smiled at the phone. “Sorry. I’m trying to track down Dan.” “Why?” His voice was dry as he pulled her more tightly against him. “Do you have a bet with him too? Because I’m pretty sure that this qualifies as insider trading.” Untangling one of his arms, he used his newly freed hand to brush her hair to one side so he could kiss the back of her neck. With a shiver of pleasure, Cassie felt her eyes glaze over. “Wait,” she protested, shaking her head to clear it and to escape the drugging touch of his mouth. “Why?” His lips followed her motion and resettled against her skin. “Horses,” Cassie managed to squeak out and Ty relented. 94
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“Fine,” he sighed dramatically. “Try Ginger’s—if he’s not home, he’s probably there.” “Smart man,” she complimented him, impressed. “Well, I am the sheriff,” he explained. “If Dan ever committed a crime, I’d know right where he would be.” He went still behind her and Cassie knew that he was thinking about the events of the night before. “Ty—” she started, but he nudged her. “Call,” he interrupted. That made two of them not ready to discuss it yet, Cassie thought, and called Information to get the number for Ginger’s diner. “’lo?” The brusque response came after several rings. “Ginger?” Cassie asked. “Cassie, honey, is that you? Hey, everyone, Cassie’s on,” Ginger yelled. Cassie winced and held the phone a little away from her ear. “We were all watching you on TV just a little while ago,” Ginger continued. “Well, pictures of you, at least—you sure were a goofy-looking kid.” “I—what?” Cassie was baffled. “No harm done—you turned out okay. Besides, it builds a kid’s character. Nothing worse that a pretty girl thinking that she can get by on just her looks.” Cassie pulled the phone away from her face so she could stare at it. “What?” a curious Ty asked. “I don’t know,” she told him, putting the phone back to her ear. “Ginger, what do you mean I was on TV?” “You were on TV?” Ty’s voice overran Ginger’s explanation and Cassie elbowed him into silence. “—see all of the reporters here,” Ginger was saying. “Every one of the Twin Cities’ stations. That cute Matt Laster even—although he’s a lot shorter than I imagined him. I’m going to have to kick them all out, though—this place is already hopping with locals trying to find out what happened last night. Can you believe that it was Carol who murdered poor Sara?” “No—wait—what?” Cassie didn’t know which part of Ginger’s monologue to address first. Ty pulled the phone from her numb fingers. “Ginger, it’s Ty. What’s—” Cassie wriggled around to face him so she could watch his expression as he talked on the phone—actually, he did more listening than anything, just inserting a terse question occasionally. “Thanks, Ginger.” He finally hung up as Cassie waited, almost bouncing out of her skin with impatience. “What’s going on?” she asked as he reached over her to put the phone back. 95
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“Seems like the word’s out about your…” he waved a hand around, searching for a word. “Advance knowledge of the murder, or attempted murder. I guess Carol is already thinking ahead to a book deal, so she was running off at the mouth to anyone who would listen about your psychic abilities. Combine that with the story about what really happened to Sara and pretty much every reporter in the tri-state area is trying to get a booth at Ginger’s diner. That and your elementary school pictures were dug up and are being plastered all over the morning news as the early years of a small-town psychic. I guess they couldn’t find a more recent picture.” “Oh,” Cassie said in a very small voice. “Well…shit.” “Well said. Oh, and Dan said to tell you that he saw you didn’t come home last night, so he figured you had stayed with me and he’s already fed your horses this morning.” “Oh,” she said again. “Well, I guess that’s good, then.” Ty cupped her face in his hand. “You okay with that?” he asked, watching her closely. “Well, sure,” she answered, puzzled. “I was going to ask him to feed them anyway.” “No, not that. Are you okay with everyone knowing about the whole psychic thing? I know you asked me to keep it quiet,” he clarified. Cassie shrugged, looking away. “Not much I can do about that now.” Forcing a smile, she looked back up at his serious face. “Except hide. If it gets too bad, I’m getting really good at moving.” “No.” Ty’s hand fell away from her face as his entire body stiffened. “That is not an option.” “Running away is always an option,” she stated, bitterness seeping into her voice. Sitting up, Cassie swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to Ty. “Sometimes it’s the only option. I’m not going to spend my life as the local freak.” “You are not leaving.” She didn’t have to see Ty’s face to know that he had full-on sheriff face. Pushing herself off the bed, Cassie started for the bathroom. “I’m showering—want to join me?” she tossed back over her shoulder in as close to a casual tone as she could manage while naked and near tears. “Did you hear me, Cass? You are not leaving,” he repeated, a thread of panic twisting through his words. Pausing in the doorway, she looked back at Ty. Her helpless anger fizzled out when she saw him, sleep-rumpled and pugnacious, trying to glare her into submission. “We’ll see,” she said quietly, attempting a smile, and turned back into the hallway. She heard the thud of Ty’s feet hitting the hardwood floor as he got out of bed to follow
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her. Cassie slipped into the bathroom—her time alone in his home the previous evening had at least acquainted her with the location of the house’s sole bathroom. “No, there will be no seeing,” grumped Ty, leaning one massive shoulder against the bathroom doorframe. “Can we discuss this later?” Cassie asked, limited sleep and a full bladder making her just a touch disgruntled. “Like when I don’t have to pee?” When Ty didn’t move except to deepen his scowl, Cassie sat on the toilet, trying to ignore how small the bathroom seemed when it had an extremely large, cranky man in it. Although she refused to look at him, she finally heard him heave a long-suffering sigh before turning on the shower. The water was lovely and warm by the time Cassie stepped into the shower, but she only had a few seconds in the unimpeded flow before a hard, hairy chest blocked the spray. “There are some disadvantages to your size, I’m learning,” she told Ty, poking the unyielding muscle between her and the warm stream of the shower. Wrapping his hands under her ribcage, he swung her around so that the water pelted her. “Better?” he asked, his hands straying downward. “Much,” she murmured, relaxing into the warmth of the water against her back and shoulders and the hot slide of his hands down her hips. Rivulets ran against her scalp as she tilted her head back and let her eyes drift shut. Cassie shivered as his tongue slid against her exposed throat, licking the droplets of moisture from her skin. The red darkness of her closed eyelids magnified the carnal need growing in her belly. No matter how many times they made love, she thought, Ty could bring her to life with a single touch. As he tugged her against him, she had to smile at the pressure of his erection burning against her stomach. At least it went both ways, she mused. Ty scraped his teeth lightly against skin and her smile fell away with a gasp. When his mouth abruptly left her neck, she frowned and peered up at him. He was watching her, his eyes burning with their heartbreakingly familiar blue flame. Stop it, her brain commanded. She was already thinking as if she were leaving. Nothing was certain, she told herself. Maybe it would be different this time—her neighbors would forget, the reporters would give up and go away, she wouldn’t be besieged by hope-stricken parents and siblings and spouses, all of them desperate enough to try anything to find their missing person. Even as she tried to convince herself that it wouldn’t be the same as Tampa or Denver or, please, God, Chicago, a melancholy wave washed over her. It wouldn’t be the same—it would be worse, she realized, reaching up to brush away water droplets beading on Ty’s closely cropped hair.
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Although she didn’t say a word, Ty read her mind. “Knock it off. You’re not leaving and that’s final,” he told her gruffly. “You can’t just waltz in here, make it so I can’t live without you and then walk away. You just can’t.” “You don’t know how it gets,” Cassie told him. “After two weeks of reporters and freaked-out Napping residents, you’ll be helping me pack.” “Never.” He massaged the cheeks of her bottom. “I would miss this really, really nice ass way too much.” Cassie laughed and punched his arm. “Is that all you’d miss?” she mock-pouted, wriggling against him. His half-smile was back, his eyelids heavy as his fingers tightened their grip. “You know it’s not,” he growled, but then pulled back a little to eye her curiously. “Actually, do you know?” “Well, I assumed it wasn’t,” she told him, a little bemused by this interruption of their sexy teasing. “No, I mean—do you just know?” he clarified, although Cassie was still confused. “Do I know what?” she asked. “What I’m thinking.” Oh. Right. She pressed back a smile and considered the fun she could have with that idea. “Of course. Every single thought.” “Really?” he asked, looking worried and skeptical at the same time. “Don’t be a dumbass. If I could read your mind, don’t you think we would have been in bed together a lot sooner than we were?” She shook her head. “I’m psychic, not telepathic.” “Isn’t telepathic where you can move things with your mind?” he asked, obviously relieved. “That’s telekinetic, I think.” “Oh. So what’s the one where you can talk to ghosts?” “Television.” “What about being able to change the weather with your mind?” “That’s called being one of the X-Men. What am I, some kind of superpower expert?” Cassie demanded. Ty grinned at her. “You’re the closest thing I know to one. When did you figure out that you could see the future?” “When I was eight and had a vision of my mother’s current boyfriend being hit by a car. He laughed when I told him, but three days later—boom.” She smacked her hands together in reenactment and Ty winced. “Was he killed?”
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“Nope. He was in the hospital for a few weeks. We used to go to visit him every day until we walked into his room and caught him getting an unauthorized sponge bath from a candy striper,” Cassie told him. “Oops. Bit of an asshole, then?” Ty summarized neatly. “Yeah, although not the worst of my mom’s picks by far.” Rolling her eyes at the memory of the parade of losers who had tramped in and out of her life when she was growing up, Cassie missed Ty’s suddenly serious expression. “What did ‘the worst’ do?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow at the return of his growl. “Not much. That was kind of their thing—just to laze around and be supported by my way-too-tolerant mom.” Cocking her head as the realization of what he was asking set in, Cassie hurried to reassure him. “Oh, there weren’t any mean ones—my mom wouldn’t have stood for anyone knocking us around. She went for the pretty and useless ones.” “What about your dad?” he asked, sliding his palms across her damp lower back. Distracted by his roaming hands, Cassie murmured “hmmm?” before the question registered. “Oh, he disappeared when I was a baby. I figured that the psychic thing freaked him out. It sure sent the hit-by-a-car guy running—well, as soon as he was off crutches,” she amended. “My mom forgave him the candy striper, but he left anyway.” “So you never met him?” Ty glided his hands up her back beneath the wet curtain of her hair. Looking at him quizzically, Cassie said, “Of course I met him—oh, you mean my dad. Nope. It used to bug me a lot as a kid, but you can’t really miss something that you never had.” “I don’t think that’s true,” he told her thoughtfully. “I always felt something was missing, until I…” He broke off, his cheekbones tinted dark red. Grinning at him, Cassie prodded, “You…what?” Although his face grew even redder, he met her eyes directly. “Until I was inside you.” The familiar sensation—one she had been feeling a lot lately—swam through her. It was the impression of the ground falling away from beneath her, leaving her scared and exhilarated and helpless, all at the same time. She laid her hands against his chest to steady herself. It was too much. Clearing her throat, she brought the conversation back to a topic she had never thought would be the easier subject to discuss—her father. “Well, I don’t think about him very much anymore,” she muttered, realized that she was unconsciously kneading his chest and dropped her hands hastily. A shiver ran across her back, this one caused by the rapidly cooling water and not by Ty. She eagerly grabbed on to the distraction.
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“Okay, down to business,” she announced, looking around for the soap. Peeking up at him through her lashes, Cassie was relieved that he didn’t look irritated with her hijacking the conversation. Far from being upset, Ty was grinning at her suggestively. “No, not that business,” Cassie scolded, although an answering smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, “Unless you can make it snappy, ‘cause the water is getting colder by the second.” Although he gave her a sadly disappointed look, Ty did indeed get down to business, washing them both in record time. In fact, Cassie was a little put out at his efficiency; his fingers hardly lingered, even in the most linger-worthy places. Even with his speed, the water was freezing by the time they were clear of soap and out of the shower, and Cassie was shivering intermittently, like a wet puppy, as Ty toweled her off. “D-d-do you think the r-reporters will be at my house y-y-yet?” she asked, her chin quivering with cold. Ty laughed at her chill-induced stutter, wrapping her in a towel and pulling her against him to share his body heat. “I highly doubt that they’ll be able to find it.” She looked up at him, doubt written across her face. “Everyone in town knows where I live—you don’t think that someone is going to give it up for a quick twenty bucks?” “Let’s get you dressed. I want to show you something,” Ty non-answered. “Sure, I know what you want to show me,” she told him with a sly smile. “But I think I’ve seen it before.” His arms tightened around her until she squeaked with the need for air. At the sound, his grip loosened, but only enough to pull the towel away and swing her up into his arms. “I didn’t mean that,” he told her as he carried her back into his bedroom, “but now that you mention it, it’s a pretty good idea.” She gave a giggling shriek as he tossed her on the bed. Rolling away as he followed her down, she scrambled off the edge of the bed when he grabbed for her. Ty’s eyes narrowed and her laughter died as they both froze into place. A thick tension fell between them. Swallowing hard, Cassie watched his mesmerizing gaze. She could feel her center melting. Suddenly, Ty lunged at her and she darted away, around the other side of the bed. They stared at each other for another heartbeat. Every muscle in Ty’s body was predator-tight and his cock was enormously erect. Cassie couldn’t take her eyes off the swollen, angry spike. Instead of flying toward the door, which had been her intention, she hesitated just long enough for Ty to move between her and escape. He stalked her, slowly advancing as she retreated. Cassie could tell that he knew she was trapped—he was just drawing out the chase. Finally, the cool wall pressed against her naked back, contrasting with the molten heat that was bubbling inside her, sliding wetly from her pussy to slick her inner thighs. What was it, she wondered, about being chased that made her desperate for him? 100
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She made a last-ditch effort to duck around him, knowing even as she did it that it was futile, and Ty caught her easily. Tossing her squirming body over his shoulder, he slapped her bottom with one broad hand, the spank sending shudders through her. This time, when he dropped her onto the bed, he straddled her thighs immediately and caught her wrists, pinning them against the mattress above her head. “I like how you play,” he rasped. “Just when I think that I can’t get any harder, you do something to blow the top off my head.” Cassie glanced skeptically at his erection rising from its nest of blond hair. “Your head looks un-blown to me,” she told him, hiding a smile. His laugh was more of a groan. “Not for long,” he threatened, and stopped any response she might make with a hard kiss. Cassie’s bones melted as he held her captive by her wrists and thighs, fiercely eating at her mouth. When she shifted, trying to move closer to him, her upper thighs slid against each other, lubricated with her eager moisture. Although she tried to open to him, Ty held her legs closed, his own hard thighs trapping hers. Switching her wrists to one large hand, Ty trailed the fingers of his free hand down her arm. When he touched a ticklish spot on her ribs, Cassie jerked a little, but she wasn’t able to move far in his unyielding hold. His hand moved forward, brushing against the curve of her breast. Her nipple reacted, pulling into an almost painfully tight point. Ty allowed his palm to barely touch the tip, letting the straining nub draw a burning line across his hand. Cassie gasped in a breath at the fiery caress and let it out again in a low moan as his mouth left hers to find her throat. His teeth lightly scored a taut muscle at the side of her neck, running down to her collarbone and flattening his tongue in the hollow. As his mouth explored the frantically beating pulse at the base of her throat, his fingers pinched her nipple, hard enough to shower sparks through the sensitive flesh. Desperate to be filled, she twisted her hips, trying to thrust her hungry, empty pussy toward his cock. Ignoring her wordless pleas, Ty had worked his clever lips down between her breasts while his fingers tugged and squeezed, reducing her breathing to short pants. He licked the hypersensitive underside of her breast, tracing wet lines along the curve. “Please, Ty,” Cassie gasped. “Please what?” His words puffed against her damp skin and her nipples hardened, almost unbearably tight. Her back arched as she panted, “Please…suck it.” He did, pulling the nipple into his mouth with a tight suction, and Cassie cried out with relief and need. His tongue felt slippery and rough at the same time as Ty used it to play with her captured nipple, pressing it to the roof of his mouth and then catching it with his teeth.
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As her head tossed from side to side, Cassie strained against his grip pinning her hands above her head—not to pull free, but to release the almost unbearable tension building inside her at his suckling mouth and his tugging, pinching, teasing fingers. Those tormenting fingers left her breast as he shifted, nudging her thighs apart until he was kneeling between them. Ty’s lips pulled free of her swollen nipple with a pop, but before Cassie could even open her mouth to complain the loss, he found her other breast with his tongue, wetting the tip of the heavy mound with a torturous lack of speed. His teeth closed carefully on the rigid nub, tugging against the swollen weight of her breast before sucking the nipple into his hot mouth. While he played with her breasts, he was moving her legs, one at a time, over his shoulders, folding her in on herself. Ty positioned the broad head of his cock at her slippery entrance, releasing her nipple so that he could watch Cassie’s face as he nudged inside. Her pussy accepted the tip of his erection easily, hungrily, and Cassie saw sheer bliss wash over Ty’s expression as he pushed into her, inch by agonizingly slow inch, stretching her to accept his thick cock. As he entered her, his shoulders pressed her knees toward her chest, opening her even further, offering him her most hidden depths. Even as rapturous pleasure gripped Cassie, her vulnerable position poked pinholes of fear. Ty’s eyes never left hers, boring into her soul with white-blue heat as he filled her completely. She felt exposed, as if he could see her inside and out—every petty act or spiteful thought was there for Ty to examine. Panicking, she struggled against him, but he subdued her easily, even gently. “Cass, Cass,” he soothed, stroking her hair back from her frantic eyes. He kissed her, a light kiss, and her heartbeat slowed. “I love you, Cass—more than anything.” Her fear faded as he kissed her again. Ty released her wrists to brace his hands by her shoulders, but she didn’t use her newly freed hands to push him away. Instead, she latched her fingers around his wrists, finding security in his strong, heavy arms and the love in his eyes. “I love you too,” she told him, her voice rough with emotion. “Now fuck me.” Cassie saw his eyes dilate at her words and his face grew tight. “Happily,” he grunted, withdrawing so he could plunge into her again, her position allowing him to fill her more completely than seemed possible. Watching Ty, intense and taut, multiplied her pleasure until the ecstatic tension building in her ruptured and Ty, along with the rest of the world, disappeared in a swirling red fall. Vaguely, she felt his shuddering peak as Ty found his own climax, but Cassie was lost in the dreamy aftermath and barely noticed when his considerable weight flattened her into the bed. It felt nice, she mused hazily—nice and safe. Even his rumbling snores were comforting, like being loved by a dragon. She almost smiled at the image, reveling in his heat and weight as she let sleep fall over her.
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Chapter Sixteen “You’re crazy.” It wasn’t the first time she had told a certain stubborn sheriff that exact thing on the way over to Ginger’s diner. In fact, she had mentioned that piece of information so many times that he didn’t even respond to the accusation. Obviously, Cassie thought in frustrated ire, he was a little slow, mentally speaking. “The problem is,” she told him again, speaking slowly so his tiny brain could absorb her meaning, “that you’ve never dealt with a full reporter onslaught before.” Ty looked affronted. “Sure I have. Every year, the Swift County Fair is a media circus. TV, newspapers—okay, newspaper—” Stopping in her tracks, Cassie folder her arms over her chest and waited for Ty to stop and turn around to face her. “You are not taking me seriously,” she told him. “Sure I am,” he said, closing the gap between them with a few long strides. Smiling at her mutinous expression, he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. Cassie jerked away. “No,” she said, hating the quaver that had snuck into her voice, “you’re not. You haven’t been there. You haven’t felt—” She broke off when her voice cracked and left her. Glaring fiercely at Ty’s neck, she knew that if she met his eyes, she would cry. He circled her nape with a wide hand, but Cassie kept her eyes down, determined not to start bawling like a baby in the middle—okay, on the side—of Main Street. The gentleness of his touch almost broke her. “Trust me,” he said softly, tipping his head down until his forehead pressed against hers. “I would never do anything to hurt you.” Finally meeting his eyes, Cassie blew out a breath. “Fine,” she conceded grudgingly. “But if I punch a reporter, you’re the one going on the evening news to explain it.” Ty grinned. “Deal. Now, come on.” Grabbing her hand, he towed Cassie the rest of the way to Ginger’s diner. As they passed the news vans crowded in the parking lot, Cassie let out a little groan. “It’ll be fine—watch,” Ty assured her, tugging her through the door. Her heart sank at the sight of so many strangers filling the booths. Everyone looked up at her and Ty’s entrance and Cassie braced herself for the onslaught of microphones and questions and cameras. Oh God—cameras, she thought, glancing down at her jeans and t-shirt, very much worse-for-wear after the excitement of last night. Cassie mentally rolled her eyes at her female vanity. She was about to be mobbed by reporters and townspeople, and she was worried about how she would look on TV?
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“Gladys!” Ginger’s booming voice echoed around the diner, filling the hush that had fallen at Ty and Cassie’s entrance. Who was Gladys? Cassie wondered, looking around. Had Ginger already made friends with one of the reporters? Confused, she saw that Ginger was headed straight toward her. “Hey, Gladys, um…Norman.” Now standing in front of them, Ginger’s face was contorted in what looked like what was supposed to be a wink. “Hey, Ginger,” Ty answered without pausing, tossing an arm over Cassie’s shoulders and steering her toward the only open seats in the place—the stools at the bar next to Jim and Tom. The two men were grinning as Ty and Cassie approached. “Jim, Tom,” Cassie greeted them warily. “Hello, Gladys,” Tom said loudly, his words as stiff as if he were in a junior high drama production. “Hello, um…” He stared at them, panicked, obviously not remembering Ty’s fake name. “Hi, Norman,” Jim chimed in, elbowing Tom. The diner had regained its usual level of noise, so Cassie risked leaning in toward Tom to hiss, “Why are you calling me Gladys?” “I don’t know if you noticed,” Tom whispered back, “but you’ve become a bit infamous. We figured you didn’t need a pack of reporters following you around if you came in for a bite, so we thought you needed an alias. Seems to be working—we were hoping that they didn’t have any pictures of you all grown up.” His eyes were bright with glee; obviously, Tom was enjoying himself. “Oh.” Cassie considered this. “And ‘Norman’?” “That was Ginger’s idea. She said they’d be pestering the sheriff too. Since he’s in his civvies today, why not? Besides,” he grinned, “it’s just fun to call Ty ‘Norman’.” “That it is,” Cassie agreed, the beginnings of a grin curling her mouth as relief warmed her stomach. She turned to Ty and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Norman, sweetie,” she cooed, “buy me a piece of pie?” Ty’s smile was a little fixed. “Sure, Gladys.” Cassie just giggled, not at all offended; in fact, she was almost euphoric with relief. The reporters and their crews drank their coffee and talked amongst themselves, oblivious to her identity. As she ate her piece of peach pie, the locals made a point to approach her, greeting her as “Gladys” in loud voices. Cassie smothered a smile—the townspeople were obviously not masters of espionage. Mrs. Blake even called her “Beatrice”. Overhearing this, Ginger hissed, “Gladys!” “I know perfectly well what her name is,” Mrs. Blake huffed. “I just didn’t agree with it.”
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Ginger rolled her eyes at Cassie, who just laughed. Pushing back his stool, Ty stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he said, tugging Cassie’s braid affectionately before heading for the bathrooms in the back. Cassie noticed that quite a few of the out-of-towners were watching him. A mixture of possessiveness and pride filled her. Even without his uniform, in just an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he was a beautiful man—and he was hers. Joy bubbled within her at her reception at the diner. None of her friends and neighbors had looked at her with that dreaded combination of fear and fascination. None had avoided her gaze. In fact, they were going out of their way to shield her from the reporters’ notice, to protect her from the curious eyes of the world. Happy tears crowded in, blurring her vision as she realized that she wouldn’t have to choose between moving and being the town pariah. “Gladys! Hey, Gladys!” Jim was yelling at her. “Sheesh, Jim—she’s two stools away. She can hear you just fine.” Tom shook his head in exasperation. “I know she can hear,” Jim told him defensively. “It’s just when our friend Gladys gets all dreamy over Norman, she doesn’t pay attention to anything.” “I do too,” Cassie protested, sniffing a little. “I heard you just fine. You were talking about…um…” She trailed off as the two men exchanged knowing looks. “Okay, I give. I was dreamy. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m in love—” She clapped a hand over her mouth. Too late. Tom and Jim were already whooping with glee. “She’s in looo-ve,” Tom singsonged. “She’s in love with the sher—” He broke off when Jim nearly shoved him out of his chair. “On’t-day ay-say eriff-shay,” Jim muttered, and Cassie stared at him with an awed grin, forgetting her own embarrassing admission in the face of Pig Latin. “What?” Tom just looked confused. Jim’s attention had already moved to something across the diner. “That pretty reporter is talking to Norman,” he announced, and Cassie’s head snapped around. A dark-haired woman was indeed talking to Ty; in fact, she had just laid a flirty hand on his forearm. “Excuse me,” she muttered between her teeth. “I’m just going to fetch my darling Norman.” She hopped off her stool, leaving Tom and Jim snickering. As she stalked toward the chatting pair, she noticed the reporter was wearing a beautiful cream-colored suit—probably a size zero, Cassie thought grumpily, glancing down at her own full curves. The last time she had tried to wear something white, Moose had left a trail of grass-green slobber across her front. Cassie snaked an arm through Ty’s. He looked down with a smile, but didn’t stop talking. The reporter didn’t even glance at her, but scribbled on a notepad, intently focused on what Ty was saying.
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“Then take a right on County Road 16, go about a mile and a half and then turn right again at the red mailbox. It’s a pretty long driveway, but stay on it and you’ll see the farm. She’s usually out in one of the barns, so you might have to look around.” Ty finished the directions with a bland smile. “Great,” the reporter breathed, her husky, sexy tone annoying Cassie to no end. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Norman.” “Anytime,” he said, blinking innocently. As the reporter hurried away, Cassie cocked a curious eyebrow at Ty. “Why did that reporter want to go to the McMurties’ farm?” she asked, her voice low. “She didn’t. She wanted to go to yours,” he told her, giving the reporter one last wave as she and her crew left the diner. “I figured it would keep her occupied for a while, wandering around those hog barns.” Cassie looked up at him. “You are a genius, you know. Did you see her shoes?” she asked in admiration. “Yup. Figured they might get a little dirty.” His half-smile curled up at the thought. “An evil genius. I like it.” She squeezed his arm. “All this talk of getting dirty is making me hot. Want to get wild behind the alley again?” His eyes glowed electric blue as he hauled her into the back hallway. Pressing her against the wall, he moved in, stopping just short of kissing her. “Yes, I do want,” he said, his breath touching her lips, “but there are too many damn reporters roaming the town. I don’t want a shot of your ass—as great as it is—on the evening news.” Cassie shrugged. “It’d be pixilated,” she laughed. “Pixilated or not—no one else is seeing your ass,” he growled. “So, are you glad I dragged you in here?” “Into the hallway?” she giggled. “Into the diner.” Ty gave her a mock-reproving look. “Yes. Although I did think some very nasty words about you on the way in,” she admitted. “Everyone seems to have taken the whole psychic thing in stride.” “Ginger told me that no one was talking—about you, about where you live or anything, so I knew everyone would protect you. They kind of like you around here, I guess. Not sure why,” he drawled, pressing back a grin. Cassie smacked his arm. “You’re the president of my fan club and you know it.” “Well, yeah,” he conceded, kissing her lightly. “We have a theme song and everything.” Ty kissed her again. “Really?” she murmured, distracted by his wandering lips. “You’ll have to sing it to me sometime.” “Can’t a man even take a piss without all this lovey-dovey crap?” a cranky voice interrupted them. Cassie looked around Ty to see Dan standing with his arms crossed.
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“Hey, Dan,” she greeted him. “You’re just mad that you missed all the ‘Gladys’ and ‘Norman’ chatter.” “Well, it was my idea,” he grumped. “Least you could have done is waited for me.” “It was a good idea,” Cassie told him, and his scowl eased a little. “Ty just sent one of the reporters to the McMurties’—told her that it was my place.” “Huh,” Dan grunted, almost smiling. “Maybe McMurtie will shoot someone.” His voice was hopeful. Ty laughed. “They’ll probably just wade around for a few hours, knee-deep in mud and manure.” “Her shoes will be ruined,” Cassie said, with a touch of glee. “She’d probably rather be shot.” Dan nodded. “Well, glad it worked. Those reporters thought they could just walk into Napping and we’d tell them whatever they wanted to know about you. Even tried offering me money,” he told them in disgust. Cassie’s eyes filled. “I can’t believe everyone did that for me,” she said. At the quaver in her voice, Ty wrapped an arm around her and tugged her against him in a hug. “Have you asked her yet?” Dan asked. “Asked me what?” Cassie pushed away from Ty so she could look back and forth between the two men. “Shut the hell up, Dan,” Ty gritted from between his teeth. Dan ignored the implicit threat. “Guess not. What’s the hold up? You have the ring and everything.” “Dan, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I’m going to have to kick your ass,” Ty warned, glancing at a wide-eyed and open-mouthed Cassie. “I’m going, I’m going,” Dan muttered, moving toward the door to the men’s room. “No need to get hostile. You know, if you were a little better at this sort of thing, I wouldn’t have to—” He quickly ducked through the door as Ty took a threatening step in his direction. “Come on,” Ty ordered, pulling her by the hand through the back door of the diner into the alley. Having recovered somewhat from her shock, Cassie looked back at the door. “You should get to have your name on that door, you use it so much. Maybe a nice plaque.” “Very funny.” Ty’s growled voice was much lower—vertically speaking—than normal, and Cassie looked around, surprised to find him on one knee next to her. “What are you doing down there?” she asked. “Did you trip?” “No, I didn’t trip,” he said, exasperated. “I’m doing this by the book, okay?” He fished in his jeans pocket and pulled out a ring. Even though Cassie had been warned
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by Dan that this was coming, her hands still shook. The diamond flashed blue and white, a match to Ty’s eyes. “Marry me?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion and nerves. “I’d be a terrible wife,” she stammered, her eyes fixed on the ring in panic. This wasn’t a moment she had planned for—she had never expected to even get a proposal. “Is that a no?” “It’s just that I…well, I only clean when I’m nervous and I make jokes instead of discussing things seriously and there’s the whole visions thing—” She broke off midbabble when Ty grabbed one of her hands. “I love you. The rest will work itself out,” he reassured her. “Now, do you want to give me an answer here? I’m not sure what I’m kneeling on, but it’s something damp.” That made Cassie laugh and tug at his hands. “Yes, okay, now stand up!” “Really?” Ty’s face lit up with a huge grin as he surged to his feet, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her off the ground. “You’re serious?” “Yes, although you’ll probably regret it,” she warned. “Never,” he told her confidently, placing her back on her feet so that he could slide the ring onto her finger. Cassie stared at her hand, bemused by the turn of events. Just a short time ago, Ty was the sheriff she lusted after from afar, Sara was alive and Knights were, outwardly at least, a happy, normal family. Turning her face up to his, Ty kissed her deeply, driving all thoughts of rings and marriage and murders from her head. “He actually did it.” The stage whisper broke them apart. The diner door was ajar, and curious faces peered through the crack—Tom, Jim and Dan vying for the best view of the alley. “What, are they kissing? Did she say yes?” Ginger’s irate voice came from behind the three men. “Would you three big lugs move so I can see?” “The next person who interrupts us is going to get shot,” Ty barked, and the back door slammed shut, although Cassie heard laughter from inside. “They didn’t sound too worried,” she told Ty. He shrugged, grinning down at her. “They know I don’t have my gun with me. Feel like going somewhere a little more private?” “I don’t know,” Cassie said, glancing around. “I’m kind of fond of our make-out alley. The dumpsters, especially, just give it that special—” She broke off with a laughing squeal as Ty lifted her off her feet and carried her toward the street. She looked up at his face, at the familiar blue eyes, warm with laughter, and was sobered by a wash of emotion. “I do love you, you know,” she said.
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He glanced at her, still smiling. “I know. How could you resist me? I’m very lovable.” “Seriously.” “I am being serious.” He kissed her nose. “I love you, you love me, we’re going to be crazy happy forever and that’s just how it’s going to be.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Probably with an emphasis on the crazy part.” And Cassie didn’t have to be psychic to know that what Ty said was going to come true.
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About the Author Katie Allen grew up in the Midwest with a horde of sisters (five) and one beleaguered brother. After an enjoyable four years working on her creative writing/art degree, and two not-so-pleasant years struggling toward her MBA, Katie somehow ended up as a mechanical engineer in Denver, Colorado. When she’s not writing or working to pay for her unfortunate equine addiction, Katie rides horses, reads (of course), paints and is learning to knit (having completed one slightly deformed sock so far). She also enjoys exploring Denver with her Lab mix, especially when their walks pass the neighborhood fire station…the firemen are always an excellent source of inspiration for her stories. The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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