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  Before I could tell him there was a conflict of interest, and that I was not a good fit to represent my high school nemesis, Becca Lawton was sitting in front of me airing years of dirty laundry between her and Case. She wanted to bury the poor man. She wanted everything he had. And she really, really wanted to break his heart by taking away his son. She did have some valid points. Case worked too much. Drank too much. He had an unpredictable temper, and his immediate family was a volatile mess. She also insisted he was unfaithful, but there was no proof of it. Mostly, she was tired of pretending to be happily married when she was anything but. She claimed she wasted her youth on Case, and her resentment was evident.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her I couldn’t represent her. Sure, Case had issues, but nothing worthy of separating a father and son permanently. But then she looked me dead in the eye and told me she was willing to ruin him in court. She was willing to tell the judge that one night after binge drinking, Case admitted to her that he knew for a fact his father manipulated evidence in many of the cases that passed through the sheriff’s office. She claimed Case was racked with guilt over one particular case, involving a young married couple that eventually led to tragedy. The young wife came to the sheriff to report long-term abuse. She was battered, had a broken arm, and was terrified. Case arrested the husband, but his father let the man go the same day, claiming there wasn’t enough evidence to hold him. Not long after his release, the husband, who also happened to be a highly visible member of the local church, went on to stalk his young wife. He kidnapped her, assaulted her, and then killed himself right in front of her, all because Sheriff Conrad Lawton didn’t do right by her.

  Becca claimed that everything that happened to the woman weighed heavily on Case. He was feeling helpless, angry at the world. But one night, when he was drunk, he admitted to knowing that his father “misplaced” the damning photos of the woman’s injuries and the doctor’s statement that her physical examination showed signs of long-term abuse. According to Becca, Case caught his father in the middle of manipulating the facts and evidence, and he knew Conrad accepted a payment in order to protect the churchgoing husband. But Case never said a word, never told the town or the young woman’s family the truth.

  The story made my blood run cold. I was almost sure she was lying, but she was vindictive, and the story sounded believable. Everyone knew Conrad Lawton was a dirty cop, and if what she said came out in court, Case would not only lose custody, but also his job and possibly his freedom. He would be guilty of being part of a cover-up. A less scrupulous attorney would take Becca and her story and run with it, because all an attorney needed was suspicion. Just the hint of Case doing something illegal would be enough to derail his custody plea. I couldn’t let that happen. I remembered how much Case hated his father, and I knew deep down that Case would never cover for him, particularly in a case this horrific.

  Reluctantly, I pushed every reservation I had down and promised Becca I would get her everything she wanted. I told myself I could do it without completely ruining Case’s image and dragging his name through the mud, because without implacable proof, I refused to believe he was following in his father’s footsteps. Becca agreed to keep Case’s drunken confession quiet as long as I stripped Case of literally everything he held dear. I think she liked the idea of forcing me to ruin my former crush’s life, almost as much as she delighted in watching him squirm before the judge.

  By the time we went to trial, Case foolishly had hired an old football buddy, an attorney I knew relied more on charm and flashy theatrics, rather than on any actual skill. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. If he hadn’t smirked at me like his victory was guaranteed the first day. Instead, we battled it out for months and months, and in the end, it was Case’s father who finally swayed the judge to give Becca everything she asked for.

  It seemed Sheriff Lawton thought he could use his usual intimidation tactics on the presiding judge. Threats were made, weight was thrown around, and for once, the patriarch of the Lawton clan ran up against someone who wasn’t scared of him. The judge was concerned about young Hayes being under the influence of such a morally questionable man. He advised Case to take a good hard look at his life choices over the next year, and the case was closed.

  At least it was supposed to be.

  I should’ve known a guy like Case Lawton wasn’t going to let such a catastrophic loss go without a word.

  When I noticed he was waiting in the hallway, I foolishly hoped it was for his former spouse. When Becca breezed by him with a tiny wave and a wink, his entire face flushed and his back went ramrod straight. I ordered myself to keep moving, my job here was done. He didn’t remember me, and now I was sure he really wanted to forget all about me.

  His massive arms crossed over his wide chest, and his eyes cut through me like twin lasers.

  “Are you happy? Do you feel good about what just happened, weird girl?” His words were cutting and blunt. I wanted to kick him in the shins for once again throwing out the taunt Becca had used in high school to alienate me. Back then he had told her to knock it off, but now he was using the words as a weapon against me.

  I cleared my throat, tightened my hand on the handle of my briefcase, and refused to flinch away from the absolutely murderous look in his eyes.

  “I told you to get a good lawyer, Mr. Lawton.” I kept my voice calm, but the sarcasm in my tone was unmistakable. In court I wasn’t a woman prone to sass, but outside of the courthouse, I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind, and I no longer let others’ opinions make me feel badly about myself. He was the one who initially made me realize I should matter, and it was a lesson I had taken to heart.

  Case growled an ugly string of swear words in my direction and leaned forward. With his towering height, he loomed over me, and I had to suppress a full body shiver and the urge to shrink away.

  “You ruined my life, Aspen Barlow. Everything that matters to me you’ve just ripped away. I would give what little I have left for you to have never stepped foot in this town. You better hope to God our paths don’t cross anytime soon.” He gave me one last scathing look before marching off down the hall, rage evident in his stride, completely unfazed that he openly threatened me.

  I obviously no longer knew who Case Lawton was, and I didn’t want anything to do with the angry, shortsighted man who just stormed away from me. Because I was suddenly having no problem seeing him as a person who would look the other way while his father tampered with evidence—even though he wore a badge and claimed to hate everything his father stood for.

  After that day, it was common knowledge that Case and I were enemies, adversaries, rivals. I went out of my way to avoid him, and he made it a point to make my life a living hell whenever the opportunity arose.

  If there was anyone I didn’t expect to lean on when my own house of cards went up in flames a few years later, it was the newly appointed sheriff of Loveless, Texas, Case Lawton.

  Chapter 1

  Aspen

  Nine years later

  Do you have any enemies who would do something like this?” The question was practically snarled at me as I repressed an eye roll.

  My office was trashed. Every drawer in my desk was open and the contents flung from one wall to the next. Both of my filing cabinets were tipped over and had dents where it looked like someone had tried to pry them open. All the pictures and degrees that decorated the walls had the frames smashed and the inside contents shredded. My computer was now only a mangled husk of wires and broken glass, and there was scarlet red paint splattered all over the plush Berber carpet and white walls. Ugly words were scrawled across all the windows, and again I wondered how no one passing by on the street had noticed anything amiss when the destruction was occurring. My office was right in the middle of Main Street. Granted, Loveless was no bustling metropolis, but Main Street always had a steady flow of foot traffic coming and going, and I was pretty close with the young couple who ran the coffee shop across the street.
How had no one seen anything?

  I crossed my arms defensively over my chest and narrowed my eyes at Case Lawton. When it came time to elect a new sheriff, I didn’t regret casting my vote for him—anyone was better than his father—until right this moment. In all the years following his explosive divorce, and rude, threatening behavior afterward, we’d managed to maintain a proprietary distance from one another. It was a delicate dance we both knew all the steps to, but tonight, he was the one who showed up when I hysterically called to report the break-in and vandalism. When I first caught sight of him, I wondered if he’d shown up just so he could gloat.

  My heart and my head had always had a very complicated battle going on when it came to Case Lawton.

  My head liked to remind me that he was the only person who’d ever made me waffle in my convictions—and look the other way when the law was possibly compromised. I’d never done anything with the information his ex-wife handed over, not just because I couldn’t prove it, but also because deep down I didn’t believe it. Since taking over the sheriff’s job from his father, Case had been nothing but law abiding. He was a stern yet fair enforcer of the law.

  But my heart—the squishy, too soft thing—begged for me to make the first move, to mend fences and shift the dynamic between us if he ever gave me an opening. My heart never seemed able to fully let go of the memory of the young man who made such a difference when I was so alone.

  “Aside from you? No. I don’t have any specific enemies I can think of off the top of my head.” But I was an attorney, and I did handle a lot of divorces and custody cases. Unfortunately, that meant there were often spouses and parents who felt like they were getting a raw deal on the other side of the courtroom. Not unlike the large man prowling around my office. Why was it still hard to breathe when I was this close to him? Shouldn’t I have shaken that particular quirk loose by now? It’d been almost a decade since we’d said a civil word to each other.

  “What about your husband? I heard you were separated. Is it an amicable split?” Case moved toward a particularly large puddle of paint on the floor. Crouching down he touched it with a tip of his finger. His hand came away smeared with red. “It looks like you just missed whoever was in here. The paint didn’t even have time to get tacky.”

  I huffed out a sigh that sent my dark fringe of bangs dancing across my forehead. Case was the last person on the planet I wanted to discuss my impending divorce with. In fact, I didn’t want to talk about my failed relationship with him at all but realized my soon-to-be ex-husband was bound to be a suspect. Sadly, David was not a man prone to acts of passion or rage. He was unfailingly calm, wholeheartedly steady, endlessly kind, and the divorce had been all my idea, not his. He was still stalling over signing the papers, even though I’d filed for divorce over eight months ago and moved out of our shared home in Loveless’s only gated community over a year ago. David was still holding out hope I’d have a change of heart, even though I knew all the way down to my bones I wouldn’t. We were done, but that didn’t mean he would trash my office.

  “Yes, the split is amicable. David would never do anything like this.” In the nearly twelve years we were together, the man had raised his voice to me only twice. Once when I told him I was done with the emotional turmoil of trying to conceive, and the second when I walked out our front door.

  “You recently left the law firm he runs with his father and uncle. Is there any bad blood there?” Case asked the question matter-of-factly, but I felt like he was digging, trying to find a sore spot to push on. I knew somewhere inside he was thrilled my first few steps of independence were being sabotaged in such a graphic, unmistakable way. When I failed, he considered it a win. He’d proven that fact over and over again when we’d clashed in court during the last several years.

  I bit back another sigh and fought the urge to tap the toe of my pointy, high-heeled boot. “The Barlows didn’t want me to leave. I’m good at my job, and starting my own practice means competition in court and a fight for clients’ money. They know many of my clients are going to follow me to my new practice. But we’re family. They supported my decision.” Well my father-in-law did, even if he didn’t fully understand it. David didn’t want me to leave the practice any more than he wanted me to leave our marriage, but my choice wasn’t about him.

  Opening my own practice, taking on cases I wanted to handle, working with clients who really needed me—not just the ones who could afford me—were all steps I needed to take to no longer simply be known as David Barlow’s wife. Somewhere along the line, well after I’d become a Barlow, I’d forgotten exactly who Aspen Keating was and all about the things she was determined to accomplish. I was desperate to find the old Aspen again.

  Case grunted a noncomment and walked over to the window, where a collection of offensive slurs were painted. The red paint started to drip, making the glass look like something out of a horror movie. He cocked his head to the side, and I ordered my eyes not to trace over the broad lines of his back and the way his tight backside delightfully filled out his too-tight jeans. Now that he was the sheriff, he no longer had to wear the all-tan uniform. He still had on the ugly shirt, but the rest of his outfit was casual, jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black Stetson. He still managed to bleed authority and control in just a partial uniform, and I hated how he seemed to take up all the space in the room. It was completely illogical to still harbor an unkillable attraction to a man who made it abundantly clear he could barely stand the sight of me. In fact, David had cruelly thrown my fascination with Case in my face the day I left him. It was the one and only time he’d ever mentioned what I thought was my secret crush on the sheriff, but it was enough to make me double my efforts to keep Case out of sight and out of mind.

  “These words have any merit? Were you seeing someone on the side? Does your husband have a reason to be jealous?” Case looked at me over his shoulder while waving a hand at the ugly words dripping garishly down the glass.

  I arched an eyebrow in his direction and lost the fight to impatiently tap my foot. I also gave up on the battle to keep from rolling my eyes at his perpetually condescending tone. “Ex-husband. And no, our relationship didn’t end because either of us was unfaithful.” Though I had to silently admit there were occasions when I had no clue where David was. Those times had increased with frequency in the last few years, making my decision to leave even easier. “I told you, David has nothing to do with this. I have no idea who could be behind it.”

  “Why did you come back to the office so late tonight?” His turned and looked at the toppled filing cabinets. “It looks like you may have interrupted whoever was in here when you showed up.”

  I felt like he was accusing me of something, so I automatically bristled. “I told you, I forgot a file I wanted to go over before going in front of the judge tomorrow. My mother called when I was leaving for the day, and I got distracted. I spoke with her, decided to make myself dinner, and when I sat down to go over my notes realized I had left the file in my office. When I got here, the front door was open, and I could smell the paint. I called your office and waited until you showed up before coming inside.” I knew enough to not go inside. I didn’t want to give Case, or any of his deputies, cause to accuse me of tampering with a crime scene.

  Not that I believed Case was a dirty cop like his father. He may have been under Conrad Lawton’s thumb for too many years to count, but after his father cost him the custody of his son, Case was done with everything having to do with Conrad Lawton. He’d made it his mission to get the patriarch of the Lawton clan out of office, a task that took several years, but Case had accomplished it. Now he was working his ass off, day in and day out, to undo all the damage his father had done while using the sheriff’s office as his own personal playground. However, Case still resented me, loathed me, blamed me. He might believe wholeheartedly in justice and law, but I wouldn’t put it past him to use whatever small mistake I made against me.

  “I keep client files in there.
I suppose someone could theoretically want them if I’m representing their spouse in a separation. Divorces can get ugly, especially in a small town.” Everyone knew everyone else’s business, which was why I wasn’t surprised Case knew about my impending divorce and the fact that I’d left my previous practice. There were very few secrets in Loveless. Even fewer of them when you stood out like a sore thumb.

  “Any of your current cases nastier than the others? Have you been getting threats? Or has anything unusual happened that you may have written off as part of the job?” He rubbed his thumb along the line of his chin and turned sharp, arctic blue eyes in my direction.

  It wasn’t fair. He really shouldn’t have been allowed to age as well as he had. It would be much easier to hate him back if he’d ended up haggard and slightly thick around the middle like his father. Instead, I’d watched from afar as Case got better and better over time. He was harder, more rugged and masculine than he’d been in high school, and more broody and moody than when he’d returned from the military. He even looked good with the very faint hint of silver starting to thread through the stubble on his chin and in his neatly trimmed sideburns. The rest of his hair was thick and jet-black. It was a striking combination with those bright blue eyes of his. He’d always been a bit of a heartbreaker, but now he was something beyond that. A heart destroyer, or maybe even a heart annihilator. He crushed the delicate things without even trying. I knew it well. Mine had been one of his first victims.