Almost a Cowboy (23 page)

“You two aren’t married?” the policeman asked after he scanned their names.

“Not yet.” Utah’s slow reply filled Caroline with adrenaline. She bounced her knees, ready to run.

“Sit tight. I’m writing you a citation.” The officer took their IDs to the cruiser parked behind them.

Utah threw her an amused look.

“It’s not funny! This is going on my record.”

“It’s not any worse than a traffic violation, baby. And I’ll pay the ticket.”

She barely harnessed a roar of irritation. But when she thought about it, she realized she wasn’t annoyed with getting caught. She was angrier with the leap of excitement in her heart when he’d said, “Not yet.”

Staring through the windshield, she said nothing. Utah accepted two tickets from the officer and then drove away. The road stretched on. When they reached the Kentucky state line, she had her resolve firmly fixed again.

I won’t marry anyone again. Ever.

Utah parked the truck and leaned over the steering wheel, staring out at the vast city of Louisville. “This is Jefferson County?”

Caroline sighed. “Yep.”

“We’re never going to find him here. There must be three million people here.”

“Over four, actually.”

He swung his gaze her direction. “You’re not helping.”

“I haven’t really done a thorough Internet research of him in Louisville. Let’s hit a coffee shop with Wi-Fi, and I’ll look into it.”

She was gorgeous today, bright and fresh after sleeping like the dead in a halfway decent motel. He guessed the prospect of the motel not being infested with bedbugs allowed her to sleep soundly.

He wished he had. At two a.m. he’d been laying there, staring at the dingy ceiling, wondering what the hell his father had been thinking. In the past few days, this had become his obsession. After meeting five siblings and two of their mothers, he was no closer to understanding why his father had kept having children.

And to make things worse, Caroline was cool to him. Their last few hours together had been quiet, without lingering touches or smiles from her. Maybe she was stressed about her deadline, though she hadn’t confided in him. This was another thing—she rarely talked about herself.

“How the hell am I supposed to find a coffee shop in this place? It’s like ants in an anthill.” He couldn’t suppress his irritation.

“Well, let’s find a place to park on the street, and we’ll walk until we find one.” Her breezy tone riled him further, but he bit off his reply.

Why do you back away the minute you get close to me?

He started the truck and pulled out of the shopping plaza where they’d parked. Caroline’s thumbs flew over her cell.

“Two blocks down to the left. There’s a coffee shop called Steamers.”

“Pulling into traffic sucks,” he said after ten cars zoomed by. “I’d rather come up against a wounded bear.”

“Just calm down. We’ll get there. Patience is a virtue in cities.”

“I’m sorry, but I left my patience on that goddamned mountain.”

She shrank against the door, letting her hair drop over her face, concealing her from view. Remorse flooded him, but his annoyance raised another notch.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

“I don’t like when you’re bitching at me.”

“I’m not bitching at
you
. Just in general.” He swept a hand toward the city. A break in traffic meant he could finally pull out. But he drove all of ten feet before he had to slam on his brakes.

“I still don’t like it.” She didn’t look at him.

“Did he yell at you?”

She jerked her gaze to his. “Who?”

“Your ex. Jeremy. Did he yell at you?”

The steel curtain slammed behind her eyes, masking them so they looked lifeless. “I told you I won’t talk about him.”

“Sooner or later you’ll have to, baby.”

“Why would I have to?”

“If we’re together—” He broke off at her expression. The shadows and ache living in her beautiful features stabbed him deep. He touched her shoulder, and she flinched.

Actually flinched.

He put his hand back on the wheel and bit off a roar of frustration. He’d tried to give her space and time to talk to him about whatever ate at her concerning her failed marriage, but she was sealed as tight as a clam eating Super Glue.

He drove the two blocks and parked on a side street.

“This is a one-way street,” Caroline said tonelessly.

“Fucking hell.” He lit up the tires getting out of the parking spot, whipping in front of an oncoming car. They both swerved, narrowly avoiding an accident. The blare of a horn followed him down the street.

“There aren’t any one-way streets where I live.”

“You can go back there as soon as we finish this trip.”

His heart tumbled and skidded in the dirt between them. “Is that what you want?”

“Just get to the next street and park before you cause an accident, Utah. You’re in a bad temper.”

He noted her fingers clenched white around her cell. “Is. That. What. You. Want?” he asked through a tight jaw.

She finally swung her gaze to his. “No, I don’t want you to head
right
back into the mountains.”

That’s a good way of saying you do.
Dammit, did their time together mean nothing? Was it really just a romp and a road trip to her?

Chest burning, he parked and cut the engine. She shot out of the truck before he could blink.

She headed down the sidewalk toward the coffee shop, laptop bag thumping her hip and ass swaying with her hasty retreat. Utah caught up to her at the door. Small tables dotted the sidewalk, and red and white umbrellas shaded patrons sipping coffee.

He opened the door, and she passed inside without glancing at him. She ordered a double shot of espresso, and he got black coffee, though he didn’t want it. His stomach was sour, and their exchange had given him a bad taste in his mouth.

Caroline set up her laptop at a window table. He took the seat across from her, trying to block out the voices around him, the din from the street, and his general bruised feelings.

Once he found this other brother, he was probably in for more angst. They wouldn’t all be as easygoing as Camden. Sooner or later he’d find someone as hot-headed as Gunnison.

Thinking of his brothers raised a growl, which he bit off by slurping the too-hot coffee. Mouth scalded, he tried not to swear.

Caroline peeked at him over her laptop screen. “Couldn’t you tell how hot it is by the temperature of the cup?”

He picked up his cup again and deliberately took a big gulp. Swallowing it while keeping his eyes from smarting was another story.

She shook her head and silently worked for half an hour. He stared at the customers, wondering about their lives. Had any of them ever seen his father? Was it possible their paths had crossed? The world that had once seemed enormous was actually a farm pond.

And Hollis Davies probably populated most of it.

“I’ve got something.” Caroline’s voice sounded off. She bit into her lower lip. The crush of her square white teeth around the plump, pink flesh stirred something in Utah’s lower stomach.

She turned the laptop to face him. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. A photo of himself took up half the screen. He devoured the face in the photo. Undeniably it could be his twin. Under the picture was a caption:
Officer Jefferson Davies at the Police Charity Auction
.

He tried to scan the story but couldn’t focus.

“Looks as if we’re going to have another run-in with the law,” Caroline said.

His gaze ticked from the screen upward to hers. “That has your panties knotted?”

She leaned across the table. “They are not knotted! Now keep your voice down!”

“You’re upset about getting caught yesterday, aren’t you? I told you I paid the tickets. And no one will ever know. What happens in Missouri stays in Missouri.”

Her eyes hooded. “Don’t say that again. Please.”

“What?” Confusion locked his brows together.

“Missouri. It’s the way you say it—Missouraaa. It makes me melt.”

A grin plastered itself right across his face. He sat back in his seat and gave her a long, lazy look she couldn’t ignore. “That so? You liked it when I took you in a parking lot in Missouraaa.” He purposely drawled it.

Her eyelids fluttered. “Just shut up. Focus.” She pointed to the laptop. “We found your brother.”

“And I’ve found some ammunition.”

That made her smile. At long last, the sun parted the clouds and warmed him. “As if you need it.”

Still grinning like an idiot, he read through the article. A chuckle lifted in his chest. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can woo a lady. Officer Jefferson Davies put himself on auction at the police charity ball and got the highest bid.”

“Is that what it says? I didn’t read the article—I couldn’t get past the picture. He looks just like you.” Caroline slid her chair around to look at the screen. With their heads bent close and their thighs touching, they read the article.

She pointed to a line. “He works for this precinct. Let’s go.”

He immediately shook his head. “I don’t want to face him at work. We need to find him after hours.”

“Well how are we going to do that? I can bet his address isn’t posted for every person he’s ever arrested to see.”

“True. I’m going to send you into the station and find out where he spends his after-hours. At a bar, a gym.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re the reporter. Interview. Go undercover for the story.”

They finished their coffees in silent camaraderie and then headed for the police station. Utah didn’t even go in, too worried that his appearance would be mistaken for Jefferson’s. He didn’t want to cause his brother any more trouble than necessary.

Dammit, this wasn’t his mess. He was mopping up the mess his father had made. And because he was the bearer of bad news, he figured some of his siblings wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him.

As he waited in the truck, watching the minutes tick by on the dash clock, he dwelled on the fact that he wanted to know these sisters and brothers. He’d wasted too much time avoiding his family. When he got home, he’d make things right with Clinton and Gunnison too.

The truck door flew open, and Caroline bounced in. Her bright eyes and round thighs tormented Utah. He couldn’t resist pulling her into his embrace. “You found him?”

“Yep. I told the receptionist I was organizing another charity event, and since he pulled in such a good sum, I hoped to get him up on our auction block too.”

Utah released a laugh. “And you found out where he’ll be?”

“Yeah, he’s actually on duty now. He and his partner aren’t off until five-thirty. Then they usually hit this little bar for a drink.” She opened her palm to reveal a slip of paper bearing a name and address.

Utah stamped her mouth with a hard kiss. “Sweetheart, you’re amazing.”

“You could have gotten the same information.”

“Yeah, by causing a ruckus—telling everyone I’m his long-lost brother.”

“True.”

“We only have a few minutes until he’s off duty. What do you think about making out in front of a police station?”

She shook her head, sending waves of hair over his bare forearms. “I’ve had enough of making out in this truck. You take me to a proper hotel, and we’ll talk.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’d think a city of this size would have a pretty damn good room. Then I’m going to spread you out on the king-sized bed and kiss you until you beg me for more.”

“Yeah?” She was slightly breathless.

“Yeah. Then I’ll work my way down your body, kissing every inch. Licking it too. Maybe even nibbling.”

“Biting?” Her eager question and too-bright eyes gave him a sinking feeling. Was the biting like the spanking? Like the mind-blowing way she could suck his cock? God, he loved it but hated that he hadn’t been the one to teach her. Hated that the look she wore now was almost fierce.

He traced a finger over her cheekbone and down to her jaw, hoping she’d soften and be his old Caroline again.

“Maybe not biting,” he said gently.

She hummed in response, but what did that mean? She was okay with his decision or not?

He let go of their verbal play and ran his hands up and down her spine.

“Let’s find this bar.” She pulled free of his hold.

Some of the tension of earlier in the day mounted between them. He crowded close and brushed his lips over hers. “Thank you for getting the information. And for putting up with my foul mood.”

“Don’t forget the road rage.”

“That too.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

She pressed her thumb into his chin cleft. “Forgiven. Now let’s go.”

•●•