Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (32 page)

“I knew you loved me all along,” he said gruffly after reluctantly pulling away. “It was just different hearing the words.”
 

“You’re so cocky.”

Trent grinned devilishly. “You like my cockiness.”

“Speaking of cock, what can I do to make you sleep better?” Cassie purred, pressing closer to him.

“Don’t do that,” he groaned as her core seared against his chest. “Damn. I can feel the heat of your pussy. I want to throw you on your back and fuck you into that mattress.”

She locked her legs around him, bringing him closer. “Do it.”

“No.” His voice was guttural with need. “Cassie, babe. Don’t. I can’t take you the way I want to.”

“Your loss.” She sighed in exasperation, unlocked her legs, flopped back on the bed, and yelped.
 

“What?” Trent was beside her in a flash. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Her eyes were pinched close, her face screwed in an expression of pain, and she was cradling her side. “Oh, fuck... my ribs. I think you’re right. No acrobatics for me for a few days.”

Or a goddamned month,
Trent thought, still concerned.

He settled her back in bed and tucked her to his side, careful not to trap her injured arm. “I won’t keep you in a cage, but you have to promise me not to act like you’re some goddamned action hero.”

“It’ll take some time, but I promise.”

“You’ll be more careful. No getting into bar fights and stuff,” Trent said to lighten up his request. He guessed he was learning to navigate the line between keeping her safe and letting her be who she was.

“Hmm, I heard the sheriff’s hot and I’d probably want him to arrest me.”

“Naughty girl.” Trent felt himself thickening again.
 

Injured, Stone. She’s injured.

“Is that your loaded weapon poking at my butt, Sheriff?”

“Yup. Now behave or that fucker is going to want some action tonight.”

“Yes, Sheriff.” Aaaand ... that made him harder.

 
“Jesus, you’re killing me.”

Cassie laughed softly, rubbing her butt against his erection, torturing him some more, and then promptly fell asleep.

It took Trent a few minutes to calm his dick down, but he relaxed into her, knowing she felt safe with him, and that was the last thing he remembered.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Cassie just finished putting Stella in her stall. She had not ridden her in a while and felt guilty. Cassie’s ribs still hurt, so riding was out of the question. She did walk the mare around the corral. It felt like therapy being around such a magnificent creature.
 

Almost ten days had passed since Piper died. John had been released from the hospital six days ago. The doctor wanted to keep him longer, but he was having none of it. He wanted to go home to Misty Grove and be around the people who understood who he was. He was temporarily staying at Montgomery ranch so Cassie could check on him during the day and Mac could keep an eye on him as well. They were a rest and relaxation place for injured agents after all.
 

John talked to her further about Ariana. Petro Stefani doted on his daughter and somehow shielded her from his less-than-savory business. It wasn’t that she wasn’t aware of her father’s mob life, but growing up in it, she was somehow desensitized. She’d been a normal girl, who’d gone to University to be a doctor. She didn’t used to be full of hate and revenge. Stefani’s death changed her, and somehow through her connections, she found out the rumors about the ES who took out her father. There were always consequences to their actions as assassins.
 

Millie came to visit often. Colt was still gone, although he would check in every now and again. He got eyes on Kate, but he was giving her space for now.
 

Lucas had not told her about that cryptic message the admiral had for Trent. It didn’t used to be so hard getting something out of her twin. Maybe she was getting out of sync with him or maybe it was because Trent was occupying a lot of her headspace nowadays. Her man was sleeping better, thank God. He was really her rock and she loved him for putting up with the craziness in her life and remaining sane. A lesser man would have given up a long time ago.
 

As she made her way back to the ranch house, she noticed a familiar vehicle parked behind her car.

Wyatt.

What was he doing here?

She had not seen him much in town after she chose Trent over him and was really surprised to see him at the hospital when John was shot.
 

He was waiting for her on the porch.

“Wyatt? John is in the annex. Did you come to see him?” Cassie doubted John was the reason for this visit, but what else was there to say between them?

“Your boyfriend is a manipulative son of a bitch,” Wyatt announced as Cassie came up the porch steps.

“That’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” she replied, mildly amused with Wyatt’s accusation.

“I always had your best interest at heart, Cassie.”

“Do you want to tell me what this is all about, because I think we’ve pretty much said all there is to say to each other?”

“You wound me, sweet thing.” He really did look hurt and maybe, just maybe, she felt a bit guilty.

“Someone by the name of Admiral Benjamin Porter paid me a visit at my home.”

“Oh shit,” Cassie whispered.

Wyatt’s lips twisted in a sneer. “I’ve seen him around Millie’s Diner.”

“He has been a visitor at Misty Grove lately.”

“The man shutdown my underground fighting business!”

“Oh... hohoho.” Cassie backed away and chuckled.

“Do you think I find it funny?”

“You don’t. I do.”
That means Lucas is off the hook, right?
 

“He had someone hack into my website and shut it down. He told me in no uncertain terms that I was done.”

“I’m surprised you let him intimidate you,” Cassie said, leaning against a porch post and crossing her arms. “Don’t you have government officials in your pockets?”

Wyatt glared at her. “Do you really believe that?”

She shrugged. “You blackmailed Trent. I’m sure that’s not your first attempt.”

“That admiral
is
a scary guy.”

Cassie continued chuckling. “That he is, but even so, I doubt you bellied up without asking for something in return.”

“Despite our differences, sweet thing, you know me so well.”

“That’s not a very admirable trait, if you must know,” Cassie retorted. “So what did the admiral offer?”

“He wants to lease my land.”

“For what?”

This time Wyatt looked wickedly pleased as he turned to leave. “I don’t know. I thought you did and you’d tell me.” Before he entered his vehicle, he added, “Ask your sheriff. He came along with the admiral.”

Her jaw slackened in surprise.

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Wyatt challenged, mock incredulity on his face.

Sometimes when she thought she could tolerate Wyatt again, he’d say something spiteful.
 

“When did this take place?” Cassie asked.

“Two days ago.”

Trent had said nothing to her. What were he and the admiral up to?

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t notice Wyatt drive away.

*****

The admiral was one pushy and persistent man. All Trent wanted was to give Cassie a normal and easy life, but Porter wanted to make it complicated. Trent agreed to accompany him to see Stratford the other day because he knew his woman wouldn’t be truly happy until her twin was in the clear of that man’s illegal fighting business. He had an idea what would happen if something happened to Lucas, and he was doing his damnedest to make sure Cassie would never lose her twin. He respected the bond they had, and Lucas was probably the only man Trent wasn’t jealous of when it came to the affection the twins shared.

Shit, he was very late. Cassie said she’d stop at Millie’s to help manage the dinner crowd. You would think a drug-instigated “biker war” would make people stay away. Apparently, people had become curious and Misty Grove was bustling with tourists. Meanwhile, poor John was laid up, but his employees were holding down the fort at the general store. The shop had a shit-ton of bullet holes that needed to be repaired, but other than the shattered windows that had been replaced, John decided to leave the other bullet marks alone. At least, that was what Cassie had told Trent.

He frowned when he saw a couple of bikers and their motorcycles parked in front of the diner. When he got a closer look under the diner’s lights though, he relaxed. They didn’t look like the hardcore motorcycle club variety and were simply weekend road warriors curious about the events that happened over a week ago.

When he entered the diner, all eyes swung his way. A flush crept up his neck. Unfortunately, the press had romanticized the “biker-war” showdown as the sheriff, his deputy, and the townspeople fighting back to protect their town. He and Brooks had been getting fan mail, and the ribbing at the sheriff’s department was wearing down on his patience. And now there was this.

“Hi, Sheriff Stone,” a diner customer called out.

“Is that him? He’s hot,” another said.

“I saw him first,” a third woman retorted.
 

Trent smiled and nodded when he could. He had never felt more self-conscious in his life. Walking through a mine field would have been less daunting. He was relieved to see Cassie standing by the counter waiting for him. She was smirking.
 

“Hey,” Trent murmured, sweeping his woman into his arms and kissing her squarely on the lips, ignoring the sighs and swooning behind him.

“You’re breaking their hearts,” Cassie murmured back when the kiss ended.

“Your heart is the only one I care about.”

“Good answer.” She flashed him that heart-stopping smile he loved so much.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes. I think Millie and her crew can handle it from here,” Cassie said. “Hey, Millie, you don’t need me for anything else, do you?”

The older woman grinned at them. “Nope, you two lovebirds head on home. Here’s some food Simon packed for you guys.” She handed him a big brown bag of what smelled like fried chicken. “You might want to use the back exit seeing that you have quite a fan club out there.”
 

Cassie made a growling sound, which surprised Trent. And instead of heading to the back, she intertwined their fingers and led him through the dining area. There was good-natured heckling from the Misty Grove citizens, who Cassie obviously knew, but there was one table of particularly loud women who crossed the line.

“Hey, Sheriff, if you grow tired of hillbilly Barbie, let me know.” The woman was obviously a tourist from one of the bigger cities like Atlanta, but Trent didn’t give a shit. No one put his woman down, male or female.

Cassie dropped his hand and put a palm on his chest. “I got this, Sheriff.” The fierce glint in her eyes worried him. Those women didn’t stand a chance if they decided to take her on physically.
 

The diner had grown quiet.

Shit, am I going to have to break up a cat fight?

Cassie approached the table of three women. “What makes you think you have what it takes to hold a man like the sheriff?”

“For one thing, I’d look better on his arm.”

Trent raised a brow. The blonde woman, who was insulting Cassie, was dressed in some country-club getup. White sleeveless shirt with collar, complete with a strand of pearls and short tailored pants—he believed they were called capris—that looked totally out of place in a diner deep in the heart of the south.
 

“Really?” Cassie looked over her shoulder and blinked innocently at him. “Sheriff, don’t you like me in my Daisy Dukes?” She wiggled her ass.

There was a burst of laughter in the dining room, including a couple of male customers who whistled.

Trent shot those male customers a quelling glare.
 

Cassie knew damn well he loved her ass, especially right now that they were encased in those ridiculously short denim cutoffs he was anxious to rip off her.
 

“Babe, you know I do,” Trent said shortly, but his eyes must have shown how much he liked them, because the answering flare in Cassie’s eyes had his balls tightening.
 

Turning back to the snobbish women, Cassie said in a low voice that only a few in close proximity could hear. “Your perfect hair, nails, and makeup may look good in pictures, but you don’t have what it takes to keep a man like the sheriff. Down, dirty, and deep is how he likes it. I don’t think you’ll survive without crying about a broken nail or a misplaced strand of hair.”

And his woman just ruined his reputation, but Trent had trouble keeping a stupid grin from stretching across his face. He coughed, feeling a resurgence of a flush creeping up his neck.
 

The blonde’s eyes widened and she was about to say something when Cassie cut her off. “So back off, bitch,” she warned for all the diner to hear as she tucked her arm in the crook of Trent’s elbow. “This sheriff is mine.”

“You tell them, Cassie!” someone said as a round of applause and hooting broke out in the diner.

“Ooooh, Cassie just claimed the sheriff!” someone hollered from the kitchen area.
 

“About fucking time,” Trent murmured, surprised by this role reversal, but strangely pleased that she had staked her claim in a very public way. “Come on, hellcat. I better get you home before you start a brawl and I have to arrest you.”

“Did you bring the handcuffs?”

Incorrigible. This woman was simply incorrigible, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

*****

“So what was that all about?” Trent asked as he dropped the paper bag of food on the dining table. He couldn’t get rid of that hum of lust that had gripped him ever since Cassie became territorial over him.
 

“I’m finding myself very possessive of you.” She shrugged and walked off to the bedroom. Cassie said it very casually, but the inability to meet his eyes told him she was struggling with something. He followed her to the room and found her rifling through the drawers.