Page 73 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“What’s it going to earn me?”

“Take a shower and you’ll find out.”

I laughed, leaning over the arm of my chair and waving her closer. Then I fit my lips to the corner of her mouth before I left her on the porch and went inside to shower.

With a towel to my hair and wearing only a pair of jeans, I came out of the master bedroom and checked my phone.

I’d missed seven calls, and a dozen texts waited to be read. They were all from family members, and though I should find out what was happening, put out whatever fires had started today, I ignored it all and went in search of Winn.

I’d expected to find her inside, but through the glass windows in the living room, I saw her sitting in the same porch chair, rocking gently as her eyes stayed glued to the trees and the mountain peaks rising beyond.

She looked at peace. Maybe more at peace than she’d ever been, even in sleep.

My heart skipped. The towel fell from my hand. My hand came to my sternum.

She was perfect in that chair.

So beautiful I wanted this view every night.

Fuck. We were supposed to burn out. We should have burned out already. I needed it to burn out. My focus had to stay on this ranch. On my family.

Yet it didn’t stop me from walking outside, picking her up out of that chair and carrying her to my bedroom.

We would burn out.

Just not yet.

Chapter Thirteen

Winslow

“Did he give you any trouble?” Mitch asked.

“Not unless you count him crying the whole ride here.” I glanced through the jail cell’s steel bars to the man I’d hauled in for drunk driving.

He sat on the cot, his head in his hands, still crying. Dumbass. Maybe this would teach him a lesson.

Oh, how I hated the Fourth of July.

“Hopefully he’ll be the last,” I said.

Mitch sighed. “It’s still early. I bet we bring in one or two more.”

“But we’re out of space.” All five cells were occupied by other dumbasses.

“We’ll double up if we have to. Last year on the Fourth we had to triple a few cells.”

“Let’s just hope no one gets hurt.”

“Agreed.” He nodded. “But hey, on the bright side, no bar fights this year. Two years ago we busted up a brawl at Old Mill. That was a cluster. And last year we had six girls who got into it at Big Sam’s. That was even worse. Girls fight mean.”

I laughed, following him out of the holding area. “Yes, we do.”

The bars in town were closed. The rodeo was over. Now, hopefully, we just had to deal with the idiots who hadn’t gone home. The ones who’d decided to take the party elsewhere and cause trouble.

Mitch would be here to lock them up when the other officers brought them in.

The keys attached to his belt jingled as we walked. Of the officer team, Mitch was my favorite. His tall and stout frame made him an intimidating man, but I’d learned in my time here that he was gentle and kind.