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Her mother, upon seeing the ravishes of tears on her daughter’s face, rushed across the room and sat on the bed next to her, the question of what’s wrong dying on her lips as her very strong child flung herself into her arms and burst into tears. “Oh, mom; how could he?”
Celia was doing her best not to bang her head against her desk. First, once she’d gotten over accepting congratulations on her new engagement from everyone in the building and things had settled down, she’d busied herself with the reports Pete had downloaded for her. At some point, her hair, which she’d strategically placed along her neck and throat to hide the massacre Riley had left there and refused to let her cover, had slipped out of place, revealing said massacre aka love bite.
She heard the whispers and chuckled but paid no mind, thinking one of the guys from tech had come over to share some stupid NSFW thing he’d found on the Internet with Pete as usual. There were really only four or five of them in the building at any given time, though the mayor was making noise about hiring a few officers straight out of the academy who didn’t mind small-town life since we’d been hit with two murders back to back.
Of course, he wasn’t saying that Detective Sparks and Officer Bailey weren’t good at their jobs, but he thought maybe some added manpower was in order, just in case. Not that anyone was expecting their peaceful little town to be overrun with crime, but better safe than sorry; his words of wisdom.
However, it was only minutes later when she picked her head up and stretched that she realized the men, which include Pete, the old desk sergeant and yes Andy from tech along with one of the liaisons from the D.A’s office who’d been in town deposing witnesses and had decided to come by.
“What?” Celia stopped with her arms halfway back in place at their grinning stares. “That’s some mark you’ve got on your neck there, detective. Almost as big as that rock you’re sporting. Old Riley, don’t waste no time.” Celia slapped her hand over the offending mark and muttered an expletive as she reached for her bag and the compact mirror she kept there.
She was busy checking the evidence when the stranger walked in. One look, and she didn’t have to ask. “Detective Branson, I gather.” The handsome man who she pegged to be late thirties walked over and held out his hand. “And you must be Detective Sparks.” Celia reached her hand out with the thought that Riley was not going to like this.
Not only was Branson not old, but his face was also very far removed from a scared mackerel. Not as gorgeous as Riley, of course, but no chopped liver either. As if reading her thoughts from miles away, who walked through the door the second, she touched hands with the detective? Of course, Riley! And the reason she was trying not to bang her head against the desk? The pissing contest that started as soon as the two men saw each other.
Riley hadn’t been able to concentrate on his duties for shit. The third time his foreman asked him what the hell he was doing, he knew he wasn’t going to get shit done. He’d never been the jealous type before, not really. He and Valerie had started young and had been comfortable with each other as friends and then lovers, and somehow it just never was a thing for him.
Now with Celia, he feels like a fucking dog in heat half the time, and when he’s not thinking about fucking her, he’s obsessing about ways to keep the rest of the male population away from his woman. Having never dealt with the shit before, Riley was having trouble telling his head from his ass.
He stomped away from the fence where he was in danger of chopping off his damn fingers with the sheers he was using to fix the damn thing, muttering under his breath as his men chided him playfully in English and Spanish. They all seemed to think he’d gone nuts since hooking up with his beauty. If he heard the words jefe loco one more time, he was going to shoot somebody.
He guessed there must be some truth to what they were saying because no sooner had he made it back to the house than he was on the phone calling up Constance and Lenore to give them another job. It was a weird alliance the three of them had, but it worked for them. A couple hours later, the case of whiskey they’d asked for in payment paid off when they called him with the news of the newcomer heading into town.
Now here he was at the station sizing up this douchebag who was looking at his woman like she was on some secret to-do list of his or some shit. Not today, asshole. Riley gave a pointed look at the two clasped hands as Celia shook Detective Branson’s proffered hand and knew she didn’t miss his look by the way she dropped the asshole’s hand.
