Rebecca Zanetti - Under the Covers

Juliet leaned forward. “Wow. She can really sing.”

“Yeah.” Sophie grinned. “The guys hate her singing in a bar. Jake keeps trying to get her to sing more in church.”

Considering his little sister was wearing tight jeans and a black half T-shirt that showed very smooth skin, Juliet imagined none of the brothers like it much. Her gaze caught on a man across the bar watching Dawn with heated green eyes. “When did Hawk get back to town?”

“Last night. He’s on leave for a week.” Sophie turned as Colton plunked down a beer in front of Hawk. “Oh, great. There’s our babysitter.”

Juliet waved. “Don’t be silly. He’s here to hang out with Hawk and watch his sister.”

Sophie frowned. “Colt can multitask, believe me. Damn protective Lodge-Freeze men.”

“I miss my husband.” Anne hiccupped. She motioned to the waitress. “Another round, Millie.”

Juliet’s eyes widened. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I went into my purse to give Quinn the false identification stuff I bought in New York, and it was gone. I have a terrible feeling my lawyer did something he shouldn’t have done.”

Sophie snorted and reached for her newly delivered plate of nachos. “That was me, girlfriend.”

Juliet gaped. “Destroying evidence is illegal.”

“So my rather angry husband explained in great detail when I told him what I’d done.” Sophie reached for the bowl of pretzels. “Though, he kind of looked relieved, too.”

“He yelled at you?” Anne gasped.

“Nope. I’m all pregnant and delicate, you know?” Sophie grinned.

Juliet shook her head. “You broke the law.”

Prove it.” Sophie’s smile turned a bit lopsided. “No proof, no crime.”

Anne took another shot and sputtered. “Remind me not to tick you off.”

Sophie nodded. “Yeah. Don’t tick me off. I know stuff.”

For some reason, all three women thought that was ridiculously hilarious. Their laughter brought interested looks from both Colton and Hawk. Sophie gestured toward them in what could only be called a smart-assed wave.

They laughed harder.

…

Juliet sighed deeply right around midnight. “I think I’m too sad to get drunk.”

Sophie sighed heavily. “Not me—I miss drinking.”

“I’m not drunk.” Anne rubbed her nose. “But I can’t feel my nose.”

Sophie patted her hand. “You don’t need your nose tonight.”

“True.” Anne nodded wisely. “So true. But when Charlie gets home next month, I hope I can smell him. He always smells so good.”

Juliet sighed and scooted out of the booth. “I think it’s time for water.” She headed over to the bar and skidded through sawdust. Regaining her balance, she stopped short as a woman stepped in front of her. “Amy?”

Amy Nelson nodded, her gaze sweeping Juliet’s jeans and boots. “Nice outfit, career killer.”

“Thanks.” Juliet glanced down at Amy’s short skirt and vested top. “You look like a high-priced hooker.” Oops. Maybe the alcohol had affected her.

Amy put both hands on her ample hips. “Why are you still in town? Time to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re already ruined Quinn’s chance of being sheriff again.”

Juliet struggled to maintain a polite smile. “I don’t think so. Quinn will still win.”

“No, he won’t.” A fierce smile split Amy’s face. “Which is all right and in the plan. With all his money and all his charisma, the man could go much higher than sheriff, if he had the right partner directing him.”

Juliet snorted and then covered her mouth in embarrassment. Taking several deep breaths, she clasped her hands. “Quinn doesn’t take direction from anybody.”

“I admit I’ve had to be careful. But now that he’s out of the sheriff race, he can enter the Senate race next year. I’d love to live in DC.” Amy frowned at Sophie and Anne as they laughed back at the booth. “But I’ll have to get him out of this podunk town and away from his family. They are definitely holding him back.”

Anger danced spots in front of Juliet’s eyes. “Wait a minute. You’re the one who alerted the Billings paper?”

“Yep.” Malicious glee danced in Amy’s eyes. “I can’t tell you how helpful you’ve been.”

“This conversation is over.” Juliet lifted her head and turned to sidestep Amy.

The woman dug sharp nails into Juliet’s arm. “Get the hell out of town before I destroy you farther.”

“Let go of me.” Juliet used her most regal voice.

Amy dug deeper and then shoved.

The world disappeared. Temper roared through Juliet so quickly she staggered. Clenching her fist, she swung and nailed Amy right in the jaw. The woman flew into the bar and slid down to the floor.

The front door opened to reveal the sheriff.

Juliet’s eyes widened. Fists bunched and slightly drunk, she stood over the sheriff’s ex-lover after having just clocked her one.

Oops.

Quinn had stuck Juliet in the same jail cell as last time. The wool blanket on the one cot shifted as she settled against the concrete-block wall. The damn man had taken one look at the scene in the bar and handcuffed both Amy and her. Handcuffed!

About an hour had passed before Quinn appeared on the other side of the bars. Even with anger warming her chest, her gaze ate him up. Tonight he’d donned faded jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved, dark green T-shirt. He’d tucked his gun at his waist, and the deadly weapon looked right at home. A deep shadow covered his jaw, and pure irritation shone in his black eyes.

She lifted her chin and refused to talk first.

“How’s your hand, slugger?” he asked.

She crossed her arms. “Fine.”

“Good. Amy Nelson has decided not to press charges.” Quinn wrapped his hands around the bars.

Juliet lifted one eyebrow. “Really? That’s surprising.”

“Not after I explained that witnesses saw her push you before you laid her out, and that if I arrested you, I’d have to arrest her, too. I doubt the governor would appreciate bad press right now.”

“Good.” If the floor would open up and swallow Juliet, she’d be fine. “So I guess I am free to go?”

“Maybe.” The sheriff didn’t twitch, apparently in no hurry to allow her out of the cell. “When I asked you to help out Anne, I didn’t mean to get her drunk and then get into a bar fight.”

“I’m aware of that fact, Sheriff. I do apologize for my part in the disaster that became our night out.” She stood. “Now, unless you feel I deserve more jail time, I’d like to go home.”

His eyes darkened. “What you deserve is a good walloping that keeps you from sitting for the next week.”

Her head jerked up. Nails bit into her palm when she clenched her already aching fist. “I do beg your pardon.”

“Oh, you’d beg.” He stepped closer to the bars. “Enough of the nonsense, Juliet. I don’t have time to chase you all over town, break up bar fights, and drive home drunk women who cry the entire time because they miss their husbands. Either promise you’ll behave, or I’m leaving you in the cell for the night.”

Her spine straightened one angry vertebra at a time. “While I know you have no reason to believe me, most of those issues weren’t my fault. Now either let me out, or allow me to call my attorney.”

He kept her gaze, and she fought the very real urge to step back. Finally, with an irritated male sigh, he unlocked the door and slid the bars open. “I’ll drive you out to Jake and Sophie’s. They’re waiting for you.”

“No, I—” Her protest caught in her throat at the flare of anger in his eyes. “That would be fine. Thank you.” Frankly, she didn’t want to go home alone.

He escorted her out of the station and to his black truck, waiting until her seat belt had been fastened before pulling out of the parking lot. They drove in silence through town and toward the reservation.

The moon caressed his rugged face, enhancing his hard jaw and full mouth. Every once in a while, his Native heritage stood out in primitive relief. Tonight was one of those nights.

Her glance caught on his large, capable hands on the steering wheel. “Sorry you have to drive me home.” His grunt in response had her rolling her eyes. “Your sister is an amazing singer.”

“Humph.” Quinn glanced out at the clouds rolling across the moon.

Fine. The sheriff didn’t want to talk. Juliet shoved hair out of her way and glanced at the darkening forest outside as the moon disappeared. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The sky crackled and opened up. Rain pelted the truck.

Quinn flipped on the windshield wipers with a flick of his wrist. “Are you warm enough?”

“I’m fine.” She hugged herself with her hands and chastised herself for not wearing a coat.

A cop’s gaze raked her head to toe. Without saying a word, he increased the heat. “Stop being stubborn.”

“Me, stubborn?” She glared at him. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

His cheek creased.

Suddenly, he veered the truck toward the trees. Swearing, Quinn hit the brakes and yanked the wheel. Only his quick reflexes kept them from hitting a huge lodgepole pine. They rolled to a stop. Quiet descended.

He eyed her. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Except her heart might’ve been bruised from beating so hard against her rib cage. “What happened?”

“Deer. I want to make sure I didn’t clip him.” He jumped out of the truck and into the rain.

Clunks sounded from the back. Quinn shone a bright light into the forest. Juliet released her seat belt, leaped from the truck, and hurried toward the sheriff.

Quinn looked over his shoulder. “Get back in the truck.”