Going Down (3 page)

Annoyance had Tyson’s smile tightening. Usually the fact that Todd flirted with anyone with breasts amused him, but thinking about his younger brother dropping by Ellie’s place wasn’t quite as funny this time.

“Don’t know much about her. But I’m planning on remedying that,” Tyson admitted.

Trevor lowered his coffee mug as his brows rose. “Interesting. I do believe our brother just staked claim on the new chick.”

“Suck it, Trevor. I’m just saying—”

“That you think she’s hot and we should back the hell off. We got it, bro,” Todd inserted before taking a huge bite of his cupcake.

Tyson stared at them in disbelief, heat stealing up his neck. Staking his claim on Ellie? Hell, he didn’t even know her. All he knew was she was a stranger in town who ran from law enforcement. Which was
not
a good sign.

“Shit, you guys are impossible,” he grumbled. “Let me know if you hear anything about her.”

Then he turned to leave the shop and head back to his patrol car to see what dispatch had discovered.

Chapter Three

Ellie sat at the small table in the kitchen while waiting for her steaks to broil. She offered another mutinous glare at the computer in the corner and kicked her foot against a chair leg.

“You can’t tempt me,” she muttered. “You’re probably dial-up Internet anyway.”

But dammit, the computer
did
tempt her. She was addicted to her email—could barely go a few hours without refreshing it. And it had now been
how many
days
since she’d last checked her inbox?

It was just too risky, though. She’d watched enough thriller films to be slightly paranoid about that kind of thing. The police knew she was missing now and might be checking her email and cell phone activity. Which was why she’d left her Blackberry in her apartment too—she simply couldn’t trust herself not to give into the temptation to use it.

Oh, God, her Blackberry… Her fingers flexed, itching with the familiar urge to send a text. A groan of self-pity built in her throat as she stood up to check on the steaks.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, Blackberry, someday we’ll be reunited,” she muttered and then nodded at the steaks.

Medium rare. Perfect. One for dinner, and she’d keep the other for lunch tomorrow, saving her from having to cook again. Although, cooking had somewhat become her source of entertainment.

She grabbed a potholder and pulled the steaks from the oven. As she began to set them down a sharp rap came at the door.

Jumping with a curse, she dropped the pan fully onto the stove and placed a hand over her pounding heart.

Really? Again?

She moved toward the window, experiencing a sense of déjà vu, which only doubled when she spotted the sheriff’s car outside.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” She shoved a strand of hair from her eyes, ignoring the way her pulse quickened.

And she knew it wasn’t just from the possibility that he’d discovered she wasn’t who she claimed to be.

She considered putting on a sweater, since she was still in the thin tank top and pants she’d worn to do yoga in. But then another knock came and she muttered under her breath, moving to answer it.

“Sheriff Wyatt.” She forced a pleasant expression as she swung the door open. “Something I can help you with?”

Tyson leaned against the doorjamb, a disarming smile on his face and a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Thought I’d drop by and see if you wanted to have dinner.”

Ellie blinked, opening her mouth to reply, but then closed it again. Was the sheriff hitting on her?

“Oh, well, I just cooked some steaks…” she protested lamely.

“Great. Steaks. Plural. As in enough for two?” His smile widened as he straightened and stepped through the doorway. “Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

It hadn’t been an offer, dammit! She bit back the words and gave an uneasy laugh. “Umm—”

“I promise to return the favor, Ellie,” he murmured with a wink, shutting the door and taking a step toward her. “Tomorrow you can come to my place and I’ll cook. I make a mean lasagna.”

Oh, yeah, he was definitely hitting on her.

Ellie unconsciously backed away from him, completely thrown off balance by his directness. Her butt bumped against the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and she came to an abrupt halt.

Tyson took another step forward, until his hips brushed hers, pressing her back against the wooden shelf. The smell of soap and woodsy cologne immediately tickled her senses. He’d changed out of his uniform and through his jeans she could feel the thickness of his cock and the heat of his hard body.

Her mind screamed at how absolutely bizarre this was. She didn’t trust him—didn’t trust any law enforcement officer right now. And yet, having the sheriff’s muscled body pressed up against hers sent awareness sizzling through her. Tightening her nipples and creating a throbbing ache between her thighs.

What was it about him that made her want to do all kinds of raunchy, naughty things that would probably have gotten her kicked out of Catholic school eight years ago?

“You know, Ellie, we’re neighbors.”

“Are we?” And
why
did her voice squeak?

“Yeah. I’m just a couple minutes up the road.” His gaze met hers, the pupils in his clear blue eyes dilated. “So if you need to borrow a cup of sugar, or…something, all you need to do is ask.”

Ellie swallowed hard and gave a quick nod. “I-I’ll remember that.”

“You do that.” He set down the bottle of wine on the shelf, his face drawing even nearer to hers. “You know what else?”

Mutely, she shook her head, not even about to guess what he was going to say next. Her mouth watered and it had nothing to do with the steaks in the kitchen.

It had been months since she’d had sex, and right now she was on the verge of grabbing the back of his head and kissing the hell out of the slightly loony—or maybe just drunk—sheriff.

He lowered his head, until his mouth was just a breath’s away from hers. “I had your name run.”

And just like that, her arousal vanished. Drying up as fear closed off her throat. She couldn’t reply, even if she’d wanted to. Just lifted one brow and made a small gurgle of sound as she exhaled.

“You were right. Twenty-four-year old from Brooklyn,” he murmured, tracing her jaw with the backs of two fingers. “But you weren’t entirely truthful, were you, sweetheart?”

Her knees buckled, threatening to give out.
Oh no. He’d figured it out.

Caught by his hypnotic blue gaze, she found her head moving back and forth.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, as his thumb made a slow glide over her bottom lip. “But I can see why didn’t want to tell me.”

“You don’t understand.” The words erupted from her in a husky plea.

“Oh, no, I do, Ellie.” He gave a soft laugh. “An indecent exposure charge is probably something you don’t want to brag about.”

Ellie blinked, her heart thundering in her chest.

“Indecent exposure,” she repeated, relief slamming through her. He hadn’t figured it out. “Right.”

“I mean, I suppose I can understand. It was Mardi Gras and you probably didn’t realize that bus was full of senior citizens when you flashed them.”

Holy crap, what had her cousin been smoking?

“Yeah…something like that,” she muttered.

“You’re a fascinating gal, Ellie.” He pulled away and grinned, grabbing the bottle of wine again and heading toward the kitchen. “Do you need some help with dinner?”

Ellie wanted nothing more than to slide down to the floor and bury her head in her hands. Instead she settled on silent scream and face scrunching, since his back was facing her.

“No, it’s pretty much ready,” she finally answered, her voice surprisingly steady as she moved after him.

When she entered the kitchen, Tyson was already grabbing two plates from the cupboard.

She pulled a drawer open to retrieve silverware. Casting him a sideways look, she couldn’t resist muttering, “You’re a very…forward guy. Do you realize that?”

“I do.” He cast her a wry look over his shoulder. “My whole family seems to have the habit. Sorry if it offends.”

Shrugging, she set the table. “I didn’t say it offended. It’s just different. I don’t think I even know my neighbors’ names in Chicago. I mean, having the sheriff of town just dropping by for dinner—”

“You mean Brooklyn?”

Ellie froze in the midst of laying down the forks next to the plate.

Fuck.

“Right,” she said slowly. “Brooklyn. Sorry. I grew up in Chicago and sometimes I just mix them up in conversation.”

“Understandable.”

His reply was said lightly, so she hoped he hadn’t been too concerned with her mistake. Still, her pulse quickened. She’d let her guard down for one moment, got a little too comfortable, and then slipped.

Forcing a smile, she gestured toward the wine. “Is that a white or red?”

“Red. Do you have an opener?”

“I do. And I think there’s even some wine glasses around here some place.”

“There should be. The Bakemans are wine people.”

Ellie hurried back to the cupboard, swinging it open. She spotted the wine glasses on the top shelf and scowled, stretching on her tiptoes to reach them.

Tyson watched her for a moment, before he decided to help her.

“Here let me.” He stepped forward and reached past her, grabbing them easily.

“Thanks.”

He watched the flush of pink in her cheeks and his gut twisted with disappointment. She was definitely hiding something.

Hell, after getting the reports this afternoon, he’d been relieved to discover she’d been telling the truth about who she was.

Because in a town the size of Wyattville, Ellie was uncharted territory. She was a new body. A
nd damn, what a body it was
. She was like a brand new toy. And he couldn’t wait to figure out what wound her up and what got her gears moving.

Ever since he’d been home, none of the girls in town had managed to catch his interest very long. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t dated a bunch of them in the past—hell, of course he had. He’d been your average horny teen, lusting after any girl with a pretty smile. His brothers had been the same way.

Fortunately, he and Trevor had grown up a bit. Now Todd, on the other hand, was another story.

He’d come here tonight hell bent on seduction. Her record was clean—well, almost, but it could’ve been far worse than
indecent exposure
—and he hadn’t missed the arousal in her eyes earlier today in the bathroom.

But now, seeing the tension in her sexy little body and the way she averted her gaze, he knew this little bombshell wasn’t telling the whole story. Something just wasn’t right. And his gut told him that her little Chicago/Brooklyn slip up was at the heart of it.

He located the corkscrew and then opened the bottle, pouring them both a glass of wine while watching her load up their plates with food.

“Do you like steak sauce?” she asked, a little too brightly.

“No, thanks. Just a little salt and pepper will do me fine.” He sat down at the table next to one of the settings.

“Great, because those I have. Steak sauce, not so much.” She leaned over him, setting a plate down.

For a moment, the smell of steak mingled with roses, and Tyson got a glimpse of the pale curves of her breasts above the neckline of her tank. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

A breath slid silently from between his clenched teeth as his cock twitched beneath his jeans.

Damn
. He might not trust her fully, but he sure as hell wanted her.

Ellie had changed out of her denim shorts and tank top, and was now wearing what seemed to be some kind of workout outfit. Though she didn’t seem the least bit concerned by her attire, even if he found it was surprisingly sexy.

The loose-fitting black bottoms fell over the slight curve of her hips, and the skin-tight tank top with thin straps was almost the exact shade of green as the flecks in her hazel eyes.

She moved to sit across from him, reaching to take a sip of wine. “So, Sheriff Wyatt, do you make it a habit of inviting yourself to dinner with all the new ladies in town?”

“I’m out of uniform,” he said with a small smile, and picked up his knife and fork, cutting into the steak. “Feel free to call me Tyson.”

She set her wine glass down and nodded. “All right. Tyson it is.”

“And only the pretty single ones.” His smile faded. “Actually, no. To be honest, this is…a first for me.”

Ellie watched him for a moment and in her gaze he saw a flicker of awareness, watched her breasts rise and fall a bit quicker.

“So, tell me more about your family. You’ve mentioned them a couple times.” Her request was overly bright and an obvious diversion tactic.

“My family. Well, I’ve got two brothers.”

“Older? Younger? Maybe you’re a twin?”

He laughed and shook his head, spearing a piece of steak. “Not a twin, sorry. I’m the middle.”

“Ah, you’re the middle? I guess I’m not surprised.” She took a bite of rice and then asked, “What do they do? Police stuff as well?”

“No. Todd, the youngest, is a firefighter. Trevor, the oldest, has been in the army for fifteen years now.”

Her fork stilled as she stared at him, her lips parting slightly. “Seriously?”

He finished chewing his bite of steak and cast her a puzzled glance. “Yeah. Why?”

“It’s just…” She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze. “Never mind.”

“No, now you’ve got me curious. What were you going to say?”

“I…well, just that that you’re all in careers that are notably sexy and attractive to women.” She gave a nonchalant shrug, but the slight pink in her cheeks belied her indifference. “And if they look as sexy as you, I’m guessing the Wyatt brothers are pretty popular in town.”