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

body froze as I digested this unwelcome news. “Hell no,” I stated, the first thought that came to mind.

Sheriff frowned, his gray eyes heating in a way we all feared. Don’t get me wrong, the sheriff was fierce and gruff and a little scary, but he was always fair and an all-around good boss. We felt free to talk plainly with him, but he always made it clear when he was done negotiating.

“Yes, you do,” he said, enunciating every word. “You’ve been in here three times asking about a partner and now I got you one.”

My mind instantly rebelled. “Yeah, but that was just…” I stopped, realizing telling my boss I’d only asked because my daddy asked me to would make me look juvenile. And as a short, blonde officer, I have spent my entire career so far making people take me seriously.

His eyes cleared, and I knew that he knew what I was going to say, anyway. “And he’s right.” He nodded and his expression went soft. “You need a partner out there, Lee. Every one of my officers should have one, so this is not saying anything about you personally. His name’s Wyatt Smith, and he’s a lieutenant transfer from San Jose. I trust you’ll train him right.”

He broke my gaze and started clicking around on his computer. That was that. I’d been dismissed, and I now had a new partner. Just what I wanted to do today: babysit some asshat lieutenant who thought he knew better than me because he was from a big city. I swung the door open and may have let it bang against the wall as my final thoughts on the subject. The sheriff grunted from behind me and Betty’s eyes went wide again. She hated confrontation, which always made me shake my head at her occupational choice. All we did all day long was confrontation. You’d think she would have fared better as a librarian or something.

“Smith!” I hollered to the room at large, not bothering to sort through the officers standing around and slugging coffee before they got to work. If this guy wanted to be my partner, he better be willing to work for it.

I hit the front door to the office before I heard boots squeaking behind me, trying to catch up. The door flew open at my shove and I walked through, already headed for my cruiser.

“Good morning, Captain,” came a deep voice to my right.

I glanced over out of the side of my eye, seeing a man in the same uniform I wore, but wearing it entirely different. I hated myself for it, but I did a double take, needing that second glance to take in the fine form of a heavily muscled, tall, dark-haired officer who’d forgotten to shave that morning. He wore a heavy black watch on his tanned wrist, and he had the audacity to smirk at me. Deep blue eyes sparkled in the morning sunshine, and it pissed me off.

“Something funny?” I asked, stopping at the trunk of my cruiser.

His smirk dialed back a notch, and I rejoiced at the tiny win.

“Sorry?” He leaned in, as if to catch what I’d say next from such a great height was only possible with the crouch one does with a small child.

“Based on the smile on your face, Lieutenant, I asked if there was something funny you’d like to share,” I bellowed.

He snatched his face back and lost the grin entirely. I may have been small in stature, but I made up for it with my voice. Never, not once, had I ever been told to speak up. It was like I’d been born with a megaphone in front of my mouth, which I loved as it usually caught people off guard. As it had with Lieutenant Smith here.

Although my first question to him had been on the breathy side. In my defense, it was only because I’d been caught off guard by the sight of the handsomest male I’d seen in a long time. Partners shouldn’t be handsome. They should be capable. Dependable. An extension of one’s self. Jesus Christ. This guy was the one they called up to be in a cop calendar twirling a pair of handcuffs on his…but I digress.

Smith shook his head. “Nothing funny at all. Just happy to be here and excited to be your partner, Captain.”

I nodded, begrudgingly accepting that he showed some respect. The sheriff was all of our bosses, but as of now, in this partnership, I was his boss. And I wouldn’t let him forget it.

“Hop in. We can go over protocol while we wait for the first call to roll in.” I stepped back, needing some distance from all that maleness that seemed to pulse out into the airwaves.

He leaned forward and his hand shot out like he meant to grab the handle of my car door. Like he meant to open it for me. Like he thought we were on some kind of freaking date.

I reared back in horror. “Hut!” The weird noise just burst out of my mouth, and we both froze.

He snatched his hand back and walked around to the other side of the car, shaking his head while he looked at the ground. I almost felt bad, because while I actually enjoyed those gentlemanly gestures on a date, we were working. He and I were partners now. He had to trust that I could handle myself just as much as I trusted him. We didn’t open doors for our partners.

I slid behind the wheel and ignored the heavy silence, waiting for him to buckle up before I pulled out of the parking lot and headed on my normal route through the major county roads.

The crackle of the radio eventually came to life, saving us from actual conversation.

“We have a ten-ninety-one on Butte Canyon Road behind the prison.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d heard this exact call before and could just about guess what we were dealing with and who. I radioed