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30 Cole
It’s taken Langford a week to work his Las Vegas police department contact, but finally, I have answers.
I exit my truck at the same time Delilah climbs out of her cherry-red Pinto. She went into town to handle some business with the launch party, and to stock up on extra supplies for next week’s Fourth of July celebration, while I met Langford after hours in the tasting room. We meet in the middle between her house and mine.
“Darlin’.” Before I touch her, I brush my dusty hands off. I don’t want any dirt to get on her.
“You don’t have to do that, cowboy,” she says in an admonishing tone, stepping close. “I like you just the way you are. Mean, grumpy, and everything in between.”
Like gravity, my hands move to her hips. “Talked to Langford. No one’s lookin’ for you. At least not in an official capacity.”
Her pretty brow furrows. “But Belle said…”
“Belle’s a liar.” The muscles along her spine pull taut. I move my hands, massaging out the tension. “There’s no APB, no warrants. The cops aren’t looking for Sammy either.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means his death was never reported. It means you’re in the clear.”
“That’s good, right?” She looks relieved, but I’m not. Belle lied to her for a reason. The woman she thinks she can trust can’t be trusted. Worse, Belle knows where Delilah is. And even if the cops aren’t looking for her, someone less-than-legal could be.
If you don’t run, Delilah, you are next.
“It is good.” A white lie so she doesn’t worry. So Langford has time to dig in deeper. “But it means you still lie low.” I touch her chin, lifting it to my eyeline. “And don’t text Belle anymore.”
Her eyes widen. “But—”
“Darlin’, hear me on this.” All I can say. She’s too damn innocent for this shit. I don’t have the heart to tell her the people you trust with your entire heart and soul can turn on you on a dime.
“Okay. I hear you.” She glances at me, her expression hesitant, almost shy. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?”
“I’m sure.” Even if my brothers aren’t.
“You’re safe here.” I run my hands up her arms. I don’t want her to be afraid or to worry. “Nothing changes. You still have a job. The Creek House. Stay. As long as you need.”
She nods dazedly, like the reality of the next few months is slowly settling in. Then she gives me a bright beam of a smile. “I’m glad you said that because on my trip into town today, I kinda, maybe, sorta did something.”
My eyes narrow at the sly, mischievous crook of her lips. She steps closer, presses up on tiptoe to kiss me. “Are you ready, cowboy? You can’t be mad.”
Her heat leaves me as she drifts toward her Pinto and opens the passenger side door.
Lying on the floor is a cream-colored calf. Its big black eyes stare up at us. Delilah coos. At the sound, its tail flicks back and forth like a puppy.
I groan. “Delilah, you didn’t.” It’s no surprise. She loves the cows. I’ve caught her more than enough times sneaking out to feed Otis and Neon Star.
Her chin tips out. “Her name’s Waffle.” She crouches to scratch the calf’s head. “Isn’t she just the prettiest little baby you’ve ever seen?”
“Waffle?” Goddamn, she named her. I try to frown, even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “Where’d you get her?”
“At one of the ranches in town. They had a sign on the side of the road.” Standing, she edges closer to me, hope lighting up her face so beautifully that I lose focus for a second. “I thought she could stay here.”
I rub a hand over my jaw. “She can’t stay in the pens with the bulls.”
“Do I have to give her back?” Her huge brown eyes own me instantly, completely.
“No.” I’d buy her nine hundred of the little bastards if it’d make her happy.
I lift my hat, run a hand through my hair. “Hell, guess I’ll build a pen.” Just like that, my entire afternoon sideswiped. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
