Detour (The Getaway Series Book 5) Read online

  While we were stopped, Wyatt turned to look at me, questions bright and sharp in his gaze. “Why did you ask Ten about me? Why did you pull strings with your friend to get me in for a consultation? We aren’t friends. We hardly know each other. I can’t figure out your angle, Sheriff. Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

  Pulling forward I muttered, “I’ve told you that we have more in common than you think, Special Agent. I understand pretty much every single struggle you’ve been through on a soul-deep level.” I arched an eyebrow and turned to look at him. “We’re two of a kind.”

  A thick, weighty silence settled between us as I left Wyatt to chew on my words and come to his own conclusions. Other than outright telling him I was interested in him, or grabbing him and kissing the ever-living shit out of his handsome face, I’d given him more than enough clues to put together that I was interested in him on another level, a physical level.

  Once we hit Sheridan, it only took a few minutes to get to the small house off the main street that Miranda had converted into her rehab center. It was still early, so the typically sparse traffic was nonexistent. Driving through the deserted town made it feel like it was only the two of us in the entire world. That feeling was short-lived when a petite woman with curly white hair suddenly appeared on the porch of the building. Miranda waved at me, flashing a familiar, sad smile in my direction. Before my CO had taken his own life, she’d had wild red hair. It seemed like it went white overnight, taking a big chunk of her fiery personality with the color. She was a wonderful woman who’d lost more than she should have. She’d done more to help disabled and injured vets than any VA clinic I’d ever been to.

  I hopped out of the SUV and went around to the passenger side to help Wyatt hop down. The other man gave me a look that might’ve killed a weaker man, but eventually he let me help him. He glared at me as I handed him his cane, his fair head jerking up when Miranda’s soft chuckle drifted through the early morning air.

  “What’d you bring me to play with, Sheriff?” She’d never lost her soft Texas drawl, a melodic tone I always found charming.

  “Multiple gunshot wounds. Shattered ribs. An invasive infection that did some damage to his internal organs. Wrecked shoulder and blown-out knee. Pretty much every single part of him has some sort of battle scar except that pretty-boy face. You got your work cut out for you, Doc.”

  Wyatt couldn’t hold back a gasp as I rattled off his laundry list of injuries. When I told him I was worried and curious about everything about him, he should have believed me. I spent more hours than I would ever admit prying information out of his little brother and Ten.

  He introduced himself to Miranda in a quiet voice, looking slightly embarrassed.

  Miranda clicked her tongue and reached out to shake Wyatt’s hand. “I wish you had another reason to visit. You’re right, ya know, he is too pretty to be dealing with all of that.” She turned her attention back to me and gave me a hard look. “You owe me a dinner date. It’s been too long, Rhodes.”

  I groaned when she used my real name, scowling at Wyatt when he burst out in a howl of laughter, “That’s what Rodie is short for? I always wondered.”

  My mother gave me the name because she was young and thought it sounded dignified. I hated it. It was one more thing that made me stand out from everyone else when I was younger.

  Before the conversation about my name could go any further, we were interrupted by another female voice. This one was sultry and seductive… or at least trying to be.

  “Sheriff. I’ve been trying to track you down for days.” I tried not to flinch when Delaney appeared out of nowhere. Her manicured fingers latched onto my arm and pulled me away from where I was hovering closer than appropriate to Wyatt. “Let’s grab breakfast and have a chat since you’re in town so early.”

  I wanted to refuse and tell the persistent woman to take a hike. I saw the puzzled look cross Wyatt’s face as he took in the overly familiar way she handled me and spoke to me, but I didn’t get the chance.

  Miranda squeezed Wyatt’s hand and pulled him toward the steps of the building. She moved slowly and steadily to accommodate his uneven steps. “Let’s get you checked out, Special Agent. You can fill me in on your past rehab, and we can go over any area you’re particularly struggling with at the moment. I’ll run you through some exercises and do some tests to see where you’re at. Can’t have one of Rhodes’s brothers-in-arms fall apart on my watch.” Miranda’s kind eyes flicked over to me as I tried to subtly resist Delaney’s pull on my arm. “Give me a couple hours with him, and bring breakfast for both of us when you come back.” She flashed me a wink. “And I’m serious about that dinner date.”

  She helped Wyatt up the stairs, and my back teeth ground together watching them. I really wanted to be the one helping him.

  The woman next to me scoffed and I felt her nails dig into my forearm. “What was that all about? You don’t have something going on with that old woman, do you? Is she the reason you keep playing hard to get?”

  It was all so ridiculous that all I could do was swear under my breath and tug my hat down lower on my forehead to hide my disappointed and annoyed expression.

  “Fine, let’s get this over with, Ms. Hall.” The quicker I was done with her, the quicker I could get back to Wyatt.

  Wyatt

  “You really are quite the mess, aren’t you, Special Agent Bryant?”

  Miranda Connelly’s voice was soothing and calm, as was her overall demeanor. She was cool and efficient, her questions direct and to the point. There was an innate sadness about her that made her seem older and more weathered than she actually looked. No matter how kind her smile was, it never reached her eyes. And regardless of how friendly and welcoming she sounded when she spoke, there was a hollow note in her tone, one I recognized from the worst part of my old job. I always hated having to notify a family that they’d lost someone. That empty echo in the physical therapist’s voice came from having a huge chunk of your heart and happiness ripped away from you.

  “Some of the damage is old. I worked undercover for a good portion of my career. Took a hit or two I should have taken better care of along the way.” I forced a grin. “You know the military and the government train us to think we’re invincible, so we play the part. It’s expected.”

  The tiny woman scoffed and motioned for me to put my shirt back on. “You and Rhodes are cut from the exact same fabric. I told him there was no need for him to get into another career where he was bound to catch a bullet, but he didn’t want to listen. Being in danger was more comfortable than having a sense of safety.”

  I cleared my throat as she bent her silvery head to scribble something in the chart she’d started for me. “Well, I’m sure you can tell I’m not in any position to get in the way of bad guys and bullets ever again. The DEA put me out to pasture, and I have no desire to go chasing after another badge.” I was getting too old, and I was honestly too tired. I didn’t know what was next for me, but I knew for sure that protecting and serving the public was no longer on the agenda.

  She lifted her head and gave me another sorrowful smile. “I don’t think you’re as bad off as you think you are. If you commit to some pretty intense therapy and are open to alternative treatments, I think we can get that limp under control and most of your mobility and range of motion back. Fortunately, you are in excellent physical shape and aren’t overly reliant on medications for pain management.” She sighed and tapped the chart with the tip of her pen. “Often the hardest part for my clients is the detox from the endless drugs they’ve been given instead of focusing their recovery on actual care.”

  It was true. It was hardly a secret it was easier to medicate than to offer long-term treatment for serious injuries, be they physical or mental. With my mother’s history of addiction and drug abuse, I very rarely let anything stronger than an over-the-counter painkiller into my system, and hated that I’d been forced to pop pain pill after pain pill the last couple of months.

/>   The small woman turned to look at me with raised eyebrows. Her expression turned from thoughtful to curious as she gave me a suddenly unprofessional once over. “You really are very pretty. No wonder Rhodes called in a favor for you. I was surprised to hear from him last night. He always tries to check up on me at least once a week, but he’s been so busy the last few months, I haven’t seen very much of him.”

  Weirdly nervous at the inspection and weight of her words, I rubbed my hand across my jaw and looked down at the floor. “My younger brother has practically been adopted by the Warners. I’m sure Rodie called in the favor to keep the peace with them. I know things have been rocky between him and the family since he arrested Sutton last summer.”

  The older woman snorted and reached out to pat my good knee. “Honey, Rodie doesn’t bend over backward for anyone. That boy is more stubborn than the oldest mule on any farm. His head is harder than titanium. If he felt like he was doing the right thing, there isn’t a force on this Earth powerful enough to make him bend to someone else’s will. He called in a favor because he was worried about you and he wanted to help.”

  I stiffened and felt the back of my neck heat up. The entire ride into town I’d been picking up different vibes from Rodie, and I couldn’t get my mind off the way he’d blatantly checked me out when I opened the door. I’ve been around the block a time or two, so I knew what sexual interest from another man looked like. But I was confused as hell as to why Rodie Collins was looking at me that way.

  Miranda patted my knee again and rolled away on her little chair. “Don’t worry about the viper in the stilettos. She’s been barking up the wrong tree for months. Eventually she’s going to figure out she doesn’t stand a chance in hell with our sheriff. That she-devil will never be his type.”

  That was a loaded sentence. There were a lot of reasons the pretty brunette might not be Rodie’s type, and I didn’t want to read too much into them. It felt safer to keep playing oblivious when it came to all the complexities surrounding Rodie. It was easier to treat him as a forbidden fantasy, rather than a reality I might be able to experience outside of my dirty imagination.

  Maneuvering off the examination table, I reached for my cane and told the older woman, “I think you might have the wrong idea about me and Rodie. We’re hardly even friends. I think he’s just sympathetic to my situation because he’s been there himself. I’m not concerned with whom he chooses to spend his time.”

  If I bothered being honest with myself, I had to admit I didn’t like the way the brunette handled Rodie like he belonged to her. I didn’t enjoy watching her run her painted fingernails up and down his arm, or the proprietary way she ordered him about as if she expected him to obey. I refused to acknowledge the feelings taking over my mind when I thought about the two of them together might hover pretty close to jealousy.

  The therapist cocked her head and gave me a smile that finally lightened her eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, as well, Special Agent Bryant. Like I said, cut from the same cloth.” She chuckled under her breath and rolled herself over to her computer. “I’m going to put together a comprehensive rehab plan for you. I’ll email it over in the next day or so. Even if you decide not to stay in Wyoming, I’m going to advise that you look at long-term care. If you don’t want to do it with me, find someone you trust, and plan on having a regular routine. Your recovery will not be quick and easy, but there is definitely room for improvement.”

  I nodded. “I’ll do that.” I had no idea where I’d be once Webb and Ten finally decided to buy or build a house. I kept telling myself I was only here until my brother finally settled down. Only, Webb didn’t seem to be in any hurry to make those big choices, and since I had nowhere else to be, all my future plans were up in the air. I liked Miranda, and I secretly liked that Rodie went out of his way to set up this appointment. It made me feel special and cared for, two things I hadn’t felt from someone other than my brother in longer than I could remember.

  Miranda was walking me out the front door, reminding me to do a series of stretches every day to help loosen the muscles in my lower back and strengthen my shoulder and leg, when Rodie appeared at the base of the stairs. His cowboy hat was tilted low on his forehead, so I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell by the stiff set of his broad shoulders that his early morning meeting with the brunette woman had not gone well. Irritation rolled off the big man in waves.

  He held up a brown paper bag in his hand and almost growled at Miranda, “Breakfast.”

  She clicked her tongue and waved me toward Rodie. “Feed him. I’m fine. I have another client in a few minutes. It was good to see you this morning, Rhodes. Don’t you dare forget our dinner date.”

  Rodie’s wide shoulders slumped slightly and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll call you when I get a free hour or two. Thanks for getting my boy in so quickly.”

  I froze mid-step, head snapping up and eyes locking on Rodie’s. He did not just call me his “boy” … did he?

  I stuck a finger in my ear and wiggled it around to make sure I wasn’t hearing things. Balanced with my cane and one foot, I nearly toppled down the last few steps. Rodie caught me effortlessly, something I realized he’d done with increasing frequency since my arrival in Wyoming. I muttered an embarrassed thanks and went to move away, but was brought up short when he set a warm, steady hand low on my back.

  “I hope you like breakfast burritos.” He started to guide me toward his marked SUV. “I tried to grab something that would be fairly easy in the car.”

  Man, he was considerate. Far more so than I’d been toward him. “Anything is fine. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  He grunted as he pulled open the door for me. “I dragged you away from the ranch before Brynn could feed you. I can’t bring you back with an empty stomach; she’d have my head on a platter.”

  Once I was settled in the passenger seat with the bag of food on my lap, Rodie made his way around to the other side of the vehicle and climbed in. He tugged off his hat and tossed it in the back seat before starting the car. As if my hand suddenly had a mind of its own, my fingers involuntarily reached out to lift the reddish-brown strands that had flattened to his head under the weight of the hat.

  His hair was super soft and looked even redder when it wasn’t smashed against his skull. We both made a shocked sound when we realized what I was doing and I jerked my fingers away like his head was on fire. Blushing furiously, I quickly looked away and stammered out an apology.

  “Um, oh fuck, sorry about that.” I didn’t have an excuse for the action, so I simply refused to meet his eyes and hoped I hadn’t crossed a line or made him uncomfortable.

  Rodie sighed heavily and, out of the corner of my eye, I watched him ruffle the rest of his hair. Now that I knew how nice it felt to the touch, my fingers tingled and I had to fight the urge to reach out and replace his hands with my own. Damn, I’d definitely made things uncomfortable.

  Rodie started the SUV and asked, “How did things go with Miranda?”

  I fidgeted with the bag of food on my lap and answered truthfully, “Yeah, uh, she’s great. She was honest about what could and couldn’t be improved. There’s a loss of musculature no one can do anything about, but she thinks she can get my limp under control and full range of motion back in my shoulder if I commit to treatment.” I shrugged slightly. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be in Sheridan, but while I am here, I think I’ll make the effort to go see her.”

  “That’s good news.”

  I thought Rodie was going to be more excited about the positive prognosis, but he seemed distracted, his tone was almost flat.

  Setting the food on the floor between my feet, I twisted in the seat as much as I could and faced him.

  “Rodie, are you okay? Did something happen during your breakfast meeting with that woman?” I didn’t realize it until right then, but I’d gotten used to the intensity of his attention when we were together. Usually, I felt like I was the only thing he could
see, and that all of his focus was on me when it was just the two of us. I hated that it totally rubbed me the wrong way that he wouldn’t even look at me right now, even though I was speaking directly to him.

  It took a moment for him to reply. When he did, his voice was low and raspier than normal.

  “Delaney informed me the mayor is actively looking for someone to run against me.” He snorted and rapped his hand on the steering wheel. A sour expression crossed his face as he muttered, “She offered to run interference for me, but only if I agree to sleep with her. It was an uncomfortable, unpleasant conversation all around. I’m not happy I’m suddenly in the middle of the mayor’s games. I don’t like having my job being dangled in front of me like a carrot.” He turned his head to look at me. “But I am glad you got good news from Miranda. I knew if anyone could patch you up, it would be her.”

  I went still, and my next words sprang out of my mouth before my common sense could catch up.

  “If the job means that much to you, why don’t you just sleep with her? She was attractive enough, if you like that type.” It was a knee-jerk reaction, a defensive maneuver to keep Rodie firmly in the do-not-touch category. I should’ve known better. This was not a man you challenged lightly.

  The SUV jerked to the side of the road. No big deal since the traffic was minimal and we were far enough out of the city limits as we headed toward the Warner ranch. Dust flew up and surrounded the windows as the man next to me went stone still for a second before suddenly exploding into motion.

  He clicked open my seat belt as he leaned closer to me, almost crowding me into the door.

  One of Rodie’s hands locked on the front of my shirt and the other landed on the side of my neck. I prayed he couldn’t feel the way my pulse kicked to life under his palm. However, I knew there was no hiding the way my breath caught or the way I shivered.