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

law enforcement in the first place. To think I’d been so wrong about my personal life was making me doubt myself in general, and I didn’t fucking like it.

A car door slamming had me grabbing my towel to wipe the dough and flour from my hands. I pulled apart the blinds to see Chief Waldo escorting Oakley into her house, his hand on her elbow. She tossed her hair back and laughed, the joy on her face hitting me harder than her frowns and biting remarks. Then she tripped over a sprinkler head by the walkway to her front door. Chief just rolled his eyes and hustled her into the house.

Was Oakley Waldo, Miss Perfect, drunk? The thought had my lips pulling into a smile. A few minutes later, Chief came back out and got Oakley’s Grom out of the back of his truck, wheeling it under her car porch before heading out.

Pretty sure it wasn’t fair to approach Oakley when I knew she was inebriated, but I also figured this might be my only chance to get a genuine conversation out of her. Sober, she’d just yell at me or freeze me out.

I glanced at my pasta, seeing that it needed a bit longer to dry before I could finish cutting it. Perfect. Just enough time to go over and check on my neighbor. I didn’t give it much more thought than that. The door was closed behind me and I was walking across our yards before I could talk some sense into myself.

It took at least a full minute after I knocked for Oakley to pull the front door open. She swayed on her feet, drowning in an old sweatshirt over leggings. Her high ponytail sent a bolt of lust right to my dick. I wanted to tug on that hair and see her eyes drift shut as I slid into her tight body.

“Wyatt?” Oakley’s face scrunched up, bringing me back to the present moment.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?”

Like a bastard, I didn’t give her time to say no. I just stepped inside and she tilted her head back to look me in the eye. Hers were hazy, but not so gone she wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow.

“No,” she said defiantly, jamming her hands on her hips.

I looked down at my feet, which currently stood at least a yard inside her house. “I’m inside already.”

“Listen, Loot—leiutent—Wyatt. I don’t want you here.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling at her stumbling words. “I know, sweetheart, and I want to fix that.”

Her nose went in the air, and even drunk, she could morph back into Captain Waldo in a split second. “So you’re ready to tell me everything and be honest with Sheriff Locke about us?”

“That’s the thing, Oakley. Is there an us? Seems to me we should date for a bit before telling the sheriff. One of us transferring out seems a bit extreme when we don’t even know if we’re compatible. I want to tell you about my background, but that happens after dating for a while, not the first date. Plus, I can’t imagine riding out without you.”

I knew it as soon as I said it that I was feeding her a line of bullshit. I already knew we were compatible. It was why I was scared shitless to tell her about my past. Her judgement held weight, and I didn’t want it to crush me. Not when I was just making the life I’d worked so hard for.

Oakley looked down at her feet. She let go of the doorknob and swayed a bit before righting herself. I thought I heard her mutter, “What the hell was in that Boochcraft?”

She raised her head, and the sadness in her eyes made my gut clench. “It’s the right thing to do. Period. And the fact that you won’t do it is a deal breaker for me.”

I reached out a hand, wanting to touch her. She flinched back, and I froze. My arm slowly fell back down to my side.

“There’s just so much in my past I’m still trying to figure out myself. I need the time to do that.”

“So, why don’t you tell me? I can help you sort through it, Wyatt.”

She was throwing me a lifeline. A way to let her in. A way to still be together. I should take it. I knew I should take it and run with the offer because I wouldn’t get a better one.

“I come from a wealthy family. I grew up doing things I’m ashamed of now.” I shifted on my feet, feeling uncomfortable even admitting that.

Oakley frowned. “That’s it? You shoplifted some craft beer and now you feel bad?”

I tilted my head. “No, that’s not it. There’s a whole bunch of shit that you don’t know about, Oakley. And I don’t want to go into all of it right now, okay?” I plowed my hands through my hair.

Oakley’s face went rigid and I could practically feel the icy armor going back into position. When she opened her mouth, her volume had increased substantially. “I don’t know about it because you won’t tell me. That’s your fault for not trusting me, which is pretty pathetic because we’re partners. You’re supposed to trust me with your life, and yet you don’t. So where does that leave us, Wyatt? Don’t you see? There is no us. There can’t be because you won’t be honest.”

I threw my arms out to the side. “I’m trying to be honest, but you can’t ask a guy to flay himself open on the first date, Oakley! Give me some goddamn time, would you?”

Oakley stepped closer, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. “No! I won’t give you time because I know you won’t use it. I already gave you a week to get your shit together and absolutely nothing’s changed.”

Nobody poked me in the chest, not even Oakley. I grabbed her hand and tugged until her body fell into me. She smelled like mint and