Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

My shoes beat a path through the forested area skirting the city limits of Auburn Hill before coming around to a clearing with a guardrail and a steep drop to the ocean below. The view was breathtaking, so I stopped and zoned out for a bit, still no closer to deciding on what to do. A loud seagull swooped in and had me jumping back from the railing. Fucker almost clipped the top of my head in search of food.

A vibration in my pocket had me jumping again, my mind thinking I was under attack by another seagull, which wasn’t unheard of around here.

“Fucking seagulls…” I muttered, fishing the cell phone out of my pocket . “Oh, great.”

It was my mother texting me.

Mom: It’s been three hundred seventy-seven days since I’ve seen your handsome face. I’m starting to take it personally.

Wyatt: Mom. I’ve been settling into my new place and the new job. It’s not personal.

Mom: So you say. Sure would heal a mother’s heart to get a visit from her only son.

I gripped the phone tighter and blew out a deep breath. Yeah, she was right. I’d been a shit son, but I’d had my reasons. Didn’t help the guilt that bloomed in my chest, though.

Wyatt: I promise to visit very soon.

Mom: I’ll hold you to that. How about next weekend?

I rolled my eyes. Damn, that woman was a natural-born saleswoman. Always trying to close somebody.

Wyatt: I’ll check my work schedule and get back to you. Love you, Mom.

I put the phone away and started running back to my house, letting the burn in my legs and lungs distract me from the guilt of not visiting. Despite the increased pace that should have taken all my focus, just one thought kept pummeling me: did Oakley and I have what it took to make it long term? And if so, what was I willing to give up to get the girl?

15

Oakley

All week I’d suffered from what I could have sworn was a split personality. That had to explain why I’d go from dreamy teenager one second to having a full-blown panic attack the next. I’d worked alongside Wyatt, keeping things professional, even if I found him studying me when he thought I wouldn’t notice. The devil in me was enjoying having a streak of bad girl buried deep in an otherwise sterling reputation.

I placed the mobile fingerprinting unit on the desk of the maintenance man who’d worked for this department longer than I’d been alive. Poor guy was given a tiny corner space with a blinking fluorescent light, but he didn’t seem to mind. We kept a mobile unit in the car at all times for quick-checking car accident victims, but when I tested it this morning before heading out, it wasn’t working properly. The damn thing was always on the fritz, which was why I checked it almost daily.

“Hey.”

My stomach dropped to my toes and my knees went weak. I would know that whispered voice anywhere. Wyatt stood directly behind me, his eyes hooded when I glanced over my shoulder. He came closer, the heat of him scandalous considering we were out in the open. Okay, sure, we were off in a dark corner while the department was empty, but anyone coming in or out of the main office would see us.

I didn’t dare turn around yet, just focused on the unit I’d placed on the desk. I had to clear my voice before I could get words out.

“Wyatt…” I warned.

His hand came up, his finger tracing the line of skin on my neck showing above the collar of my uniform. I shivered, the caress just the tip of the iceberg of how I wanted him to touch me. But not here. Not now.

“You have the softest skin,” he murmured, his finger finding the shell of one ear. “The cutest ears.”

I silently demanded my knees to quit shaking. I’d faced down hardened criminals with more strength than this. “I’m not cute.”

He huffed out a breath I felt more than heard. “Tell that to your ears.” He flicked my earlobe before tracing back to the other side to pay equal attention to my other ear.

I closed my eyes for a moment and relished the feeling of a man finding me so attractive that even my ears turned him on. Knowing I could have stayed there forever, letting him touch me and croon in my ear with that gravelly voice, knowing we could be interrupted any second…well, it scared me. It scared me to think I’d risk my job for a simple caress that didn’t belong in the workplace.

My brain cleared, my knees straightened, and I spun around, sidestepping away from Wyatt. “Don’t, Wyatt,” I said firmly.

He held his hands up, looking hotter in his uniform than any cop had a right to. “Sorry ’bout that. I seem to lose my head around you.”

I was about to accept the sincere and sweet apology when he ruined it with a joke.

“Both heads, actually.”

I rolled my eyes and walked away, calling over my shoulder, “Good night, Wyatt.”

He ran after me, catching up and walking out to the parking lot with me. “I was going to see if you wanted to join me for dinner at my place. I’m trying out chicken cacciatore tonight.”

My brain skidded to a stop like a record screech. “You cook?”

Wyatt crossed his arms across his broad chest and scraped a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “Hell yes, I cook, woman.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “If you’d stayed longer the other day, I would have made you breakfast and you’d know that.”

I inhaled away the mental image of him fisting himself in the shower right before he’d turned me around and made me “spread ’em” like a damn criminal against the tiled wall. My nostrils flared, and I scrambled to think of something else. Was it getting steamy out here?

“Yeah, sorry. I have family dinner at my parents’