Page 3 of Rode Hard


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"Is that what you do?" Luke asked me.

Why was he asking me?

"Nope, told you, don’t have time but I have a good hand which has me shooting when I feel the need." I had a feeling I was gonna be using my hand a great deal more once Luke moved in.

"Fuck! Don’t either of you have a filter? I agree to your terms and thank you."

I held my hand out to shake on our deal. I knew it was a fucking mistake the minute our fingers touched. How pathetic am I? Smitten with a man who I'm sure had women falling all over him and now I’d be forced to watch him parading them past me. This time my groan did escape and both Luke and Wendy gave me a strange look.

"If that's it, I'll bed Grifter down. It's Kyle's night to cook." Wendy led the horse toward the stables and we stood in silence watching her go.

"Stay for dinner?" I asked.

Why? Why…why…why? Why the fuck are you so intent on torturing yourself? I could have maybe avoided him for a couple of days before he moved in, but noooo, once again my mouth had gone off in auto. It really needed to get with the program my brain had in place. The more time I spend in Luke's company, the more my heart would ache for something I couldn’t have. My brain and mouth were going to have to start communicating better, or I would be in for a world of heartbreak.

I led Luke over to the house, arguing with myself every step of the way.

***

LUKE

When I'd first set eyes on Kyle, sitting high on his magnificent horse, I'd had to stop myself from jogging over, dragging him onto the ground, and crushing the ever-loving life from his gorgeous body. Yep, even sitting on the horse I noticed he had matured nicely. His checkered shirt pulled taut across broad shoulders and he had a slim waist. What I really wanted to view though, was his arse. Somehow, I managed to restrain myself as I waited for him to dismount and approach.

As Kyle strode over, I thought back to fifteen years earlier. I'd left the small town of Clearlea as an eighteen-year-old to study law in Brisbane. It was what my father expected no…demanded. At such a young age, I hadn't had the courage, or confidence, to argue with him.

After graduating, and passing the bar, I had the maturity to finally confront him and tell him practicing law wasn't what I wanted. When a friend joined the force, and began talking about the good that could be done out on the streets, I decided to follow his lead. I wanted to work law at the origin of crime, not the aftermath.

After numerous arguments, father accepted my decision mainly because he thought it was only a ‘phase’ I was going through. Unfortunately he was right. For six years, I loved being a cop on the coast, tracking down lawbreakers and bringing them to justice, but something was missing. I was thirty-three years old, and still hadn't settled because deep down, I was missing someone. From the moment I'd left town, I'd been haunted by a pair of gray eyes and a mop of chestnut brown hair.

I was a damn good cop and had moved up through the ranks fairly fast. After the incident, I heard on the grapevine that my hometown was looking for a new head of station. I threw my hat in the ring, leaving my record to speak for itself. I was accepted without opposition, not many cops wanted to be shoved away in an outback town.

My father—Edward Simon Luke Martin Kelly the Second…I was the third, was livid. He was convinced, that because the novelty of being a city cop had worn off, and I was looking for a change of direction, I would come to my senses and join his prestigious law firm. That was his plan. Mine was to get as far away as I could from stuffy society parties and the ‘would bes if they could bes.’

I was also sick to death of my mother pushing eligible society females at me. Not to mention my father was the biggest arsehole God put on Earth and I couldn’t stand being around him.

So, here I was, back where I now knew my heart had always been. It had just taken me a while to realise the fact. Now, I hoped like hell, the rumors about Kyle when we were back in school were true. I couldn't believe my luck when, unable to find anywhere suitable to rent, Mrs Henning had given me the perfect excuse for coming to the property. The huge sigh of relief I'd felt when Kyle said he wasn't married, or dating, had come close to escaping.

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