Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) (17 page)

Jaw cracking under a face-swallowing yawn, Annie hefted the
last box onto the cart. Signed, sealed, and tomorrow they’d be picked up and
delivered. She rubbed her aching shoulders. Hours bent over the lap desk had left
her feeling even more like the famed hunched bell tower dweller. Her eyes felt
gritty under the press of her palms. All she wanted to do was curl up in CJ’s
arms and go to sleep. If only that were possible.

She glared at her purse. Not one beep from her phone since
dropping him at the airport. Remembering how pathetic she’d been while waiting
for an answer from him when she’d returned to Michigan, she’d purposely left it
in her purse. Figuratively dangling the device in front of her nose like a
carrot, she’d vowed to finish signing the books before starting her repetitive
checking. It hadn’t kept her from listening. 

Rolling her neck, she dug for her phone. She frowned. Setting
the bag back on the counter, she tilted it toward the light and searched the
depths fruitlessly again. A surge of panic made her stomach roll. Hands
shaking, she emptied the contents onto the island. No phone. Checking the
zippered pockets and her coat produced the same results. Frantically scanning
the living area, she mentally retraced her steps. It should be there.

Glad her aunt had insisted on a landline, she picked up the
phone and dialed the familiar number. Wandering through the apartment, Annie
strained her ears, listening for the tell-tale ringtone. Nothing. She tapped
her lips with the cordless’ short antenna. Returning to the living room, she
turned in a slow circle, thinking. She’d taken it off the charger beside her
bed this morning, and she thought she’d put it in her purse before leaving with
CJ.

Her heart sank thinking of her chaotic exit of the airport and
fumbling for her keys. Had she dropped it, or set it aside while she was
digging? Shit! She wasn’t one of those people that couldn’t live without her
precious mobile device, but it was the one place she had CJ’s number. Biting
her lip, she grabbed her keys out of the pile of purse clutter. Shoving her
feet in battered stars and stripes Converse, she headed for the elevator. If
she was lucky, maybe the phone had fallen out in the Jeep.

Bouncing in impatience as the floors fell away, Annie literally
crossed her fingers.  Childish or not, it couldn’t hurt. She chewed on her
thumbnail. Maybe CJ had already called or texted and was wondering why she
wasn’t answering. Dropping her hand from her mouth, she sighed. Ok. So, he
probably wasn’t over analyzing the whole thing and getting paranoid, but it
would be nice to know she wasn’t the only one that waited on pins and needles
for the next contact when they were apart.

Missing someone, other than her deceased parents, was a new
feeling. The thought, and resulting comparison, made her knees weak. Leaning
against the railing circling the elevator car, she closed her eyes. Maybe it
was no big deal to a lot of people, but letting someone in meant she was
vulnerable again. It might sound crazy, most things about their relationship so
far had, but she was in love with him. She blinked. The words sank in slowly.
She didn’t just like him. She was in love with CJ Barrett. Her tummy flip-flopped.
Admitting that, even to herself, was big. Now, could she tell him? Not if she
didn’t find her phone.

The elevator hissed to a stop. Gripping her keys, she jogged to
the Jeep. She sent up a silent prayer as she unlocked the vehicle. It had to be
here. A visual scan of the console and dash came up empty. Running her hand
between the center console and seats also yielded zip. Glancing over her
shoulder to make sure she was still alone, she bent over to look under the
driver’s seat. Nothing. The back seat where she’d stashed groceries, also came
up empty. She bit her lip. Usually, her purse rode in the passenger seat.
Slamming the door, she circled to the other side.

Her phone clattered out onto the concrete the moment she opened
the door. Sweeping it up, she hugged it to her chest with a sigh of relief. There
would be no humiliating phone call to the airport lost and found or CJ’s
mother. She checked for damage and more importantly message indicators. Her
heart leapt. She had multiple. A car she didn’t recognize cruised by in the
quiet garage. Grimacing, she shut the passenger door and engaged the lock on
the key fob before hurrying for the relative safety of the elevator. The car
stopped, its taillights seeming sinister in the gloom. Grisly scenarios
jockeyed for dominance in her mind. She broke into a jog. Sometimes having a
vivid imagination sucked.   

Squeezing between the opening doors, she peeked back at the
car. It was backing up. She stabbed at the elevator buttons and didn’t breathe
until the doors shut and she felt the floor lift beneath her. Imagination or
not, a lot of horror stories existed because the world was terrifying. Sure, she
was
probably
overreacting, but better safe than sorry was a great motto
for people that wanted to live.

She checked the hallway when she stepped out on her floor. A
neighbor nodded politely, as if her Mighty Mouse pajamas and hoody were
business casual. They were for an author. Unlocking her door, she stepped
inside and slumped back against it. Saving the best for last, she checked texts
first. She had three.
Made it to the Mile High City…Long layover. Just
landed in Sheridan…Home. Miss you.
God, she missed him too! Dialing up the
voicemail, she closed her eyes as his voice washed over her.

“Hey, beautiful. I’m driving home thinking of you. I wish you
were here. As soon as I get done with these Hollywood guys, we’ll make plans. I
had a lot of time to think on the plane and realized there’s some stuff we need
to talk about to make this work. Hope you’re just busy signing books and not
too mad at me. I…I miss you. Talk soon.”

She slid down the door and played it again. He’d hesitated at
the end. She was almost sure he’d started to say ‘I love you.’ He’d said it in
her bedroom before they’d cleaned up the results of her fashion meltdown. Did
he regret that? What had changed? Was it because she hadn’t said it back? Her
hands shook as she pushed the buttons. They needed to talk. Weren’t those words
usually a kiss of death in relationships? In her books they were. Once those
words were uttered either the story ended or the couple self-destructed.

Tapping the phone against her forehead, she listened to the
message again looking for the positives. He’d called her beautiful. She smiled.
Somehow, he made her feel that way. He was thinking of her. He wanted to make
future plans and make things work. That didn’t sound like a brush off. Why did
the words ‘We need to talk’ sound so ominous? They’d done a lot of talking.
What had they missed? Why was this different? She sighed. There was only one
way to find out.

Annie looked at the clock. Ten-thirty. She frowned. Was it too
late to call now? They were in different time zones. Her face scrunched up as
she forced her brain into gear. The sun sets in the west, meaning it was
earlier on the West coast. There was a two or three-hour difference. She could
never remember which. So, it would be seven-thirty or eight-thirty at the
worst. Totally okay to call. Damn. No excuse there.

Slowly pushing her way back to her feet, she checked the door.
If this was going to be a long conversation, she wanted to be somewhere more
comfortable than her foyer floor. Toeing her shoes off into the closet, she
flipped off the lights and headed for her bedroom. She paused in the doorway. The
covers were still tangled from her morning with CJ. Changing the sheets would
kill another fifteen or twenty minutes. She was such a coward.

Plopping onto the bed, she tugged the top sheet, blanket, and
comforter into some semblance of order and looked at her phone. She wanted to
hear his voice so badly, and yet she was scared to death to hear what he had to
say. Hugging her fleece cuddle blanket, she pushed the button and waited.
Anxiety levels ratcheted up with every ring.

“Hey. You’ve reached CJ Barrett. Leave me a message and I’ll be
sure to get back to you.”

The beep sounded shrill in Annie’s ear. She fumbled the phone,
words sticking in her throat. Disconnecting the call, she dropped the phone in
her lap. She was so pathetic. What did she say? She hugged the purple fleece
tighter. If she didn’t leave a message CJ was going to think she was mad at
him. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone and dialed again. She
counted the rings. The easy confidence of his message made her miss him all the
more.  

“Hey. It-it’s me. My phone fell out of my purse in the Jeep and
I just now found it. Sorry I missed your call and messages,” she stuttered. “I
umm…I miss you too. I do want to talk. Call me back when you can. I ... be
safe.”

Ending the call, she flopped back against the pillow and
screamed into the wadded fleece blanket. She didn’t have to listen to that
message over and over to know it sounded stupid and weak. What was wrong with
her? She was going to screw up potentially the best thing that had ever happened
to her. Or had she already? There was no denying their couple of days in
Michigan hadn’t had the same…she struggled for the word…ease, or the same vibe,
as Wyoming.

She rolled over, burrowing her nose in the pillow. It smelled
like CJ. The sandalwood of the beard oil blended with the crisp outdoors that
she now associated with him. Closing her eyes, she breathed it in. God, she
missed him. Where had it gone wrong? The sex had still been amazing, but even a
romance writer knew there had to be more. She frowned. Angie’s snide comments
had annoyed both of them. Aunt Viv’s visit had put him on edge. He’d said that
her family didn’t trust him. Trust him to what? CJ made her happy. Wasn’t that
what her family wanted for her? What more could they ask for than a man that
made her laugh and feel safe?

Why was her family such a pain in the ass? Her dad would’ve
liked CJ. Annie flopped onto her back. Where had that thought come from? It
didn’t matter. She knew in her heart it was true. There were things about CJ
that reminded her of her dad. More than just the beard. She smiled in the dark
and wiped away a tear. They said girls looked for a man like their daddy. CJ
had the same quiet strength that eased her fears and tension. This was one of
those times she really missed her parents. One of them would’ve had just the
right advice.

Listening to the voicemail again, CJ frowned. Annie sounded
shaky and uncertain. A lot of people weren’t comfortable when leaving a
message. Was that all it was? He needed to talk to her. Glancing at the clock
on his dashboard, he grimaced. As much as he wanted to hear her voice tonight,
it was almost midnight in Michigan. The itinerary Cami had forwarded to his
phone showed she was scheduled for three events tomorrow and his Annie sounded tired.
She needed some sleep.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Cami had been
anything but happy he’d come home to Wyoming. The text accompanying the
document could be described as terse at best, accusatory if he wanted to be
blunt. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. As much as he wanted to be there
to support Annie and help ease her anxiety, the publicist’s glib comments about
money rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t like Annie being treated like a cash
cow, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one pushing her to do more
promotion to line people’s pockets. The last thing he wanted was for Annie to
think the money was important to him.

The house looked dark and uninviting as he rolled up the drive.
Until he’d met Annie this place, and his business, had been everything. Now, he
wanted to come home to her. He understood his parents’ concerns. Besides the
home he’d worked so hard to build and the business, he’d be moving away from
them too. The Barretts were a close knit family. That wouldn’t be easy, but
Annie’s family was in Michigan. With the loss she’d already had in her life how
could he ask her to leave them? He couldn’t.

He didn’t bother to turn lights on as he walked through the
house. Upstairs, he changed into pajamas and logged onto the computer. Pulling
up the information Bill had emailed him for the job, he read through the
client’s needs and started a list of potential locales to show them. The phone
ringing made him jump. It was the house phone. Crossing to the bedroom, he
picked up the receiver from beside his bed.

“Barrett,” he said, without looking at the ID.

“Hey. Were you sleeping?”

He hesitated, brain shifting gears at the unexpected voice. 

“No. I was working. What can I do for you?”

“Working at ten-thirty on a Sunday night? Don’t you ever take a
break? All work and no play will give you blue balls, baby.”

CJ rolled his eyes and started back to his desk. “What do you
want, Teresa?”

“Come find out,” she said, a rhythmic rap echoing through the
dark cabin.

His head whipped toward the top of the stairs. God, he wished
Annie were here, and he was so glad she wasn’t. He stared down at the carved
front door. Teresa snickered like she could see him. “It’s late. You need to go
home.”

“It’s not even ten-thirty. Stop being such a stick-in-the-mud
and let me in,” she cajoled.

Shit. Was her speech slurred? He pinched the bridge of his
nose.

“Teresa, I have to be up early in the morning. I don’t have
time for your games.”

The knocks became more persistent.

“You know I can still see your calendar, right? You don’t have
a client tomorrow. I’m not going away.”

He groaned and made a mental note to change all his passwords.

“They were Bill Mallard's clients. Michelle was in a car
accident. So, he’s sticking close to the hospital with her.” He hesitated. “How
wasted are you?”

“Why are we still talking on the phone when I’m standing on
your porch? Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

She fumbled the phone, humming the classic stripper Na-Na. CJ
had a sinking suspicion whatever she was wearing, she wouldn’t be for long. The
temperature was in the low thirties. What in the hell was he supposed to do
here?

“It’s freezing outside, Teresa. Don’t let the alcohol overrule
your common sense and your body thermometer.”

“How about you come out here and warm me up?” she asked,
something brushing across the phone causing loud static.

His fingers gripped the post at the top of the stairs. The last
time he had turned down her drunken sexual advances, he had ended up sitting in
the back of a squad car. She drummed against the heavy wood door, punctuating
her humming tune. He was running out of time and arguments. If she was really
stripping down out there it wasn’t safe for long at this temperature.

“Where’s Austin?” he asked, praying the mention of her son
would sober her up.

“He’s with my parents. I told them I needed a little grown-up
time. You remember how much fun grown-up time can be, don’t you?” 

The words muttered under his breath weren’t ones he used in
mixed company. She was singing now. The song was raunchy, and painfully out of
tune. He headed back to the desk for his cell phone. This was bad. One of the
mechanics at the airport had told him this afternoon that his crazy Ex had been
asking questions. It seemed finding out he was moving on had thrown fuel on the
flames of Teresa’s jealous streak. Adding alcohol was a recipe for disaster. She
was a mean and manipulative drunk. Muting the house phone, he dialed the
Sheriff’s department on his cell.

“Boone, this is CJ, I’ve got a big ass problem out here.”

“What’s up?”

“My crazy Ex is pounding…” He winced as the thumps grew louder.
“Make that kicking, my front door. She’s drunk as a skunk and wanting a booty
call. If I answer the door it’s just going to get ugly and the last thing I
need is a repeat of that bullshit last year.”

“If she pulls that shit again, her ass is going to jail,” Boone
said with an edge to his normal drawl. “As amicable as you’re trying to keep
things for the kid’s sake, she can’t go around filing false reports and wasting
this department’s time.”

“I get that. Right now I need you, or someone, to get out here.
I’m serious, Boone. She’s stripping and this really isn’t the weather for it.
If I let her in, I’m leaving myself open to whatever bullshit lies her bruised ego
makes up this time. If she leaves, I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself or someone
else,” CJ said, wincing at the descriptive stream of filth that was coming out
of the house phone. Was that supposed to be sexy? “Thank God I don’t have
neighbors.”

There was heavy silence on the other end of the phone.

“I’m serious. Don’t do this to me.”      

“Sorry. I was checking on things on this end. Don’t worry.
We’re taking this seriously, CJ. Mendoza is close and I’m on the way. Roger’s
here. Keep the call open. We’re recording.”

There was a rustle of clothing and then the slam of a door as
Boone left the station.

“I’m here, Barrett.”  

“Stop smirking, Roger.”

“Who said I was?”

“I can hear it in your voice.”

“Maybe that’s just disappointment that she’s not on my front
porch.”

“Maybe she was going alphabetically down the list of saps she’s
dated. You should be safe for a while, Walden.”

“Damn. The name always screwed me in school too,” the deputy
muttered.

The thumps and drunken monolog downstairs grew louder.

“Talk to her. She’s feeling ignored.”

Re-focusing on Teresa, CJ winced.

“…ride you raw, fat boy.”

Lucky him. This was all being recorded for posterity. The boys
at the station were going to have a field day. She pounded on the window,
making him jump.

“I know you’re in there. Come on, baby. That little butter ball
you were with the other day can’t turn you on like I do.”

CJ’s jaw clenched.

“I’ve spoiled you, baby. You can’t go back to the chubsters,
now that you’ve felt the burn.”

“Come on. Talk to her, Barrett,” Roger urged. “Mendoza is
almost there.”

Grinding his teeth, he unmuted the phone. Keeping this civil
was not going to be easy. He wasn’t going to let her belittle Annie.

“Annie is a beautiful woman, and she has class. You should try
it.”

“Aw! Isn’t that cute? That’s like saying she has a great
personality.” Teresa taunted.

“She has that too. We’ve been over for a year and a half. If
you’re so great, why haven’t you found someone else?”

“I’ve found plenty of someones. The kid chases them off,” she
said, the blunt bitterness in her voice turned CJ’s stomach.

“If they don’t accept Austin, then they’re not the kind of man
you want anyway,” he said softly.

“Says the man that dumped me for a short, fat nobody. What is
wrong with you?”

“Annie is not fat,” he snapped, then took a deep breath.
Getting loud with a drunk wasn’t going to accomplish a thing. He lowered his
voice. “Why do you feel the need to run other people down to make yourself feel
better? Annie is curvaceous, bright, and beautiful on the inside and out. She’s
sexy as hell. I love her.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

Teresa’s voice broke with a plaintive tremble. 

“If you really want to know, you’re self-centered and
manipulative. Everything has to be about you. Even your precious feel the burn clients
think you’re a bitch because you talk down to them instead of lifting them up.
Some of those women would sell their soul to look like you, and that’s a shame.”

“Screw you!” she screeched, indignant fury chasing her short-lived
introspection away. 

“That’s not happening.”

“I could have any man I want!”

“And yet you’re stripping on my porch in February.”

“That bitch doesn’t get to take you away from me!”

“Don’t you get it? No one took me away. You didn’t want me.”

Red and blue lights flickered across the front windows.

“You could’ve kept your job and done your stupid hunting on the
weekends like everyone else. You were making damn good money, baby.”

The whining endearment and the mention of money made his temper
flare.

“That’s all a man is to you, a fucking paycheck. When we were
together, I busted my ass to make you and Austin happy. When you wanted to turn
the old five and dime into a yoga studio, I supported your dream. I helped you
renovate that place while working sixty hours a week and guiding on the
weekends. I even got my friends to pitch in when needed for nothing more than a
promise that I owed them. There’s more to life than money.”

“See what I mean? We’re good together, baby.”

“This is what I’m talking about. It’s all about you. When I
wanted to follow my dream, all you wanted to think about was how it affected
you. Relationships are a two-way street, Teresa. The sooner you figure that out
the sooner you’ll have a shot at actually being happy with someone.”  

“It’s a little chilly to be out here without any clothes on
isn’t it Ms. Owens?”

CJ’s shoulders relaxed at Deputy Liv Mendoza’s lilting voice.
Thank
God.

“I’m so glad you’re here. My boyfriend locked me outside
without my clothes,” Teresa said, her voice cracking.

CJ growled at her manipulations. He could picture her turning
on the waterworks.

“Aren’t these your clothes here on the chair?” Mendoza asked
with forced patience.

“Oh. Umm…he must have thrown those out too. I didn’t see them. I-I’m
not thinking clearly. I’m scared. He can get violent when he’s mad.”

CJ snorted. Violent? He could count on one hand the number of
times he’d even raised his voice to her, and have fingers left over.

“Have you been drinking, Ms. Owens?”

“I-I had a few drinks earlier, but I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Do you know why I’m here?”

“I guess someone called in a disturbance. I’m sorry. It’s
nothing serious. Couples fight.”

The call ended. Putting the handset on the newel post where
he’d remember to hang it up, CJ lifted his cell to his ear.

“She hung up. I’m going downstairs to let your deputy in.”

“Careful, she’s a feisty one,” Roger said, the grin evident in
his voice. “Boone should be there shortly.”

Descending the stairs, CJ rubbed the back of his neck. Teresa
was playing games again. He’d count himself lucky if this night didn’t end with
him sitting in a cell. Turning the locks, he swung the front door open. He
squinted against the glare of a high-powered flashlight. The Smith and Wesson
just under the light was an attention getter. He slowly moved both hands into
plain sight.

Teresa shrank back, making a show of cowering behind Mendoza.
He had to unclench his jaw to speak.

“Good evening, Deputy. Thank you for coming out so quickly.”

“Good evening, Mr. Barrett. Ms. Owens says that you threw her
out of your home half-clothed. That doesn’t match the original complaint. Can
you shed some light on what’s going on here?”

A sudden gust of wind made his flannel pants whip around his
legs and he shrugged a shiver away. Mendoza flipped up the collar on her duty
jacket. There was no reason for them all to freeze their asses off. Flipping
the switches next to the door CJ lit up the porch and house behind him before
stepping back from the doorway.

“Absolutely. You’re both welcome to step inside while we clear
this up.”