Defiant Heart (Starlight Cove Book 1)

I GAVE IN.

But really, what choice did I have? With the way Brady had stared down at me, all tight jaw and fierce eyes, shoulders big enough to make me feel like I was cocooned in safety even amid the storm, I wasn’t about to be held responsible for what would happen if we’d stayed. Not to mention that I’d been lulled into complacency by the heat emanating from his body and how nice he’d felt all firm and solid against me…

He’d hypnotized me with all his dumb man juju.

So now, I sat in the passenger’s seat of his patrol car—at least he’d let me sit up front this time—feeling all kinds of mixed-up, not to mention soaking wet, as Brady drove us toward his house. I’d intended to bask in the rain and enjoy the storm for a bit before stripping down in my van and curling up under a blanket with a good romance novel until the sound of the rain lulled me to sleep.

All my good intentions were thwarted by a pissed-off grump of a man who was, for some unknown reason, dead set on ensuring my safety. If it weren’t so frustrating, it’d be kind of…sweet. And so utterly different from what I was used to. Who knew he had it in him? And who knew his mantrum—a man tantrum, natch—focusing on my safety would be my particular brand of kryptonite?

If I’d come across Brady McKenzie years ago, I might have been swept up in all his posturing, but after a lifetime of relying on myself, I’d learned to trust my instincts. And they hadn’t failed me yet.

Trouble was, my instincts seemed to be on the fritz when it came to the sheriff. One minute, I wanted to strangle him, and the next, I wanted to climb him like a tree and see what all that pent-up aggression would feel like in the bedroom. Obviously, neither of which was a smart choice. The first would mean decades in prison, and I wasn’t made for life in heavy-duty lockup, despite how often I’d been arrested. There was no way they’d accommodate my locally harvested organic vegetarian meals, and I doubted they’d allow me to bring in my crystal collection.

And the second? Well. Brady wasn’t the kind of guy who had impromptu sex with a woman who didn’t have a 401(k) or even a set day of the week she went grocery shopping. He’d pair better with someone meek and docile. Someone who sat by quietly just waiting to please him, a softer, prettier version of a yes-man. Someone he could fit in a nice, neat little box, and that sure as hell wasn’t me.

That didn’t mean it was easy to ignore the potent sexual chemistry between us. Even now, as we sat next to each other in the car we’d been in plenty of times before, I couldn’t deny it. The tension pulsed between us like a living, breathing entity. And if we didn’t get out of this too-small space, I was afraid it’d swallow us both whole.

Thank God he was just dropping me off before heading back to the station. Some separation would do us good. Give us time to cool down and get our heads on straight.

“You have a change at the station?” I asked, my gaze tracking over him.

He white-knuckled the steering wheel, his jaw set while he glared at the roads as if they’d personally affronted him. Rainwater still slicked his forearms, his uniform plastered to him like a second skin. His hair was wet, a shaggy, rumpled mess that was so out of place on him, I nearly pulled out my phone to take a picture so there’d forever be proof of his dishevelment.

“What?” he asked, darting his gaze toward me before snapping it back to the road. Didn’t matter, though. That second of eye contact was all it took for this tension between us to build even higher.

God, how could I be so attracted to this man who was completely unbending, so consumed by control he couldn’t let go for even a second?

“You’re soaking wet,” I said, leaving off the fact that he wasn’t the only one… “So I just wondered if you have another uniform at the station to change into or if you’ll change at your house.”

I hoped to God he had something at the station and this would be a quick drop-off scenario. There was no telling what’d happen if we had to spend even more time together. We’d either rip off each other’s heads or clothes. No telling, really.

He grunted, his eyes sweeping the roads. “I’ve got a backup at the station. And I’m not sure what I’ll come across between my house and there, so I’ll wait to get changed, in case I need to be out in this again.”

The thought of him outside in this mess made my belly jump with nerves, but I wasn’t about to examine that too closely. It was admirable, really, how he’d do whatever needed to be done to make sure others were safe. But who looked after him? Who made sure he was safe?

Starlight Cove was a ghost town as Brady drove us down Main Street. No one was out walking along the sidewalks; no cars were in the various parking lots we passed. Garbage cans were overturned thanks to the wind, and branches littered the streets.

A mile or two from the resort, Brady pulled onto a gravel road that I would’ve missed entirely if I’d been driving. No streetlights shone on the path, the only light illuminating our way the car’s headlights as we bumped along the road. A thick cropping of trees loomed on either side of the gravel trail, closing us in, and there wasn’t a house in sight.

“Did it finally happen?” I asked.

“Did what finally happen?”

I turned toward him, tucking my left leg under me as I twisted in the seat. “You snapped, and you’re dragging me out to the middle of nowhere to murder me, aren’t you?”

He huffed out something that sounded awfully close to a laugh, but that was impossible. I’d never seen the man so much as smile. “Not today.”

Was he being…flirty? It was so far off our usual repertoire, I nearly didn’t know what to do with myself. Nearly.

“Oh good,” I said with a smile. “Maybe tomorrow, then. I’ll warn you, though…I’m a screamer.”

He pulled up in front of a cute Cape Cod home—the only one on this whole stretch of road—the car’s headlights revealing light-colored shaker-style siding with dark shutters. The porch light was on, but the rain was so heavy, I couldn’t see much past the steps leading down from the front door.

He slid his gaze to me, something dark and…heated?…hiding in those depths that had me shifting in my seat. “I’ll have to test that statement some other time.”

I shrugged as if I hadn’t picked up on the tempestuous undercurrent between us. As if it wasn’t making my pussy even wetter and my nipples even harder. “Just let me know. I’ll make sure I’m wearing panties. Don’t want to give anyone a heart attack when they find me.”

He froze for half a second, then turned to me, a single eyebrow raised, and yeah. I definitely wasn’t imagining the heat in his eyes. “You have to plan to wear panties, lawbreaker?”

I lifted a single shoulder, suddenly feeling incredibly naked, even though all my bits and bobbles were covered by my clothes, wet as they were. What would he do if he found out today wasn’t one of those planned days? “You have to get crafty when you don’t have consistent access to a washing machine.”

I could’ve sworn I heard him swear lowly under his breath, but a loud boom of thunder drowned him out, the flash of lightning through the sky highlighting his harsh, tight features for a second before plunging us back into darkness. He pulled his phone from his pocket, navigated to an app, and then a second later, his garage door opened.

Stacks of chopped wood lined each side, enough that he wouldn’t run out for a solid three years. Did he chop that himself? Of course he did. He’d love the predictability, the rhythm of it. I, for one, would love the sweatiness of it. Did he have a wood chopping uniform, or did he do it shirtless…maybe while wearing some low-slung jeans or—heaven help me—gray sweatpants?

He pulled inside the single stall—though the effort was pretty much useless now since we were both soaked to the bone—then shut off his engine. He cleared his throat into the suddenly silent space. “I’ll show you around, get you something to change into, and then head out.”

Oh shit. I hadn’t even thought of a change of clothes. Or shoes, actually. Or my purse. So I had only what was on my back and my phone that’d been tucked into my pocket when he’d found me. I’d been so dumb struck by Brady’s insistence on getting me out of there that I’d left without thinking. So what else was new.

I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for the door handle. “That’s awful gentlemanly of you. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“And I didn’t think you’d actually get in the car unless I hauled you in over my shoulder, so I guess we’re both full of surprises.”

I stepped out as he did the same and met his gaze over the roof, my head cocked to the side. “Do you feel like the handcuffs were less demanding than carrying me over your shoulder would’ve been?”

Thankfully, he’d had to unlock those cuffs before we could get in the car since crawling over the center console with all his sheriff gear would’ve been near impossible, but he’d only done so after he’d crowded me into the car, his big body blocking my way and giving me no other choice. He seemed to think I was an idiot, but I wasn’t, and he’d made good points. I’d been fine there…until the tree had come down. And by that time, it’d been too late. I hadn’t been able to leave anyway, so what else was I going to do but make the most of it?

Brady grunted out some semblance of an answer as he led the way up the couple steps and into his home. He unlocked the door, then held it open for me, gesturing me inside in front of him. I walked past, our skin brushing as I went, and forced down the shiver that worked its way up my spine at his nearness.

My skirt dripped with every step I took, and I cringed at the puddles of water I’d already caused on his wide-planked pine floors. Freezing in place, I pointed to the spot I stood. “Do you want me to just…?”

He stepped up right behind me, so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, and pressed his hand to my lower back, urging me forward. “I live on the ocean, lawbreaker. These floors have seen water.”

“Well, color me surprised,” I said over my shoulder, the single hall light on in the house casting shadows over Brady’s face that only accentuated the harsh lines—his fierce brow, carved cheekbones, and jawline sharp enough to cut glass. The man really was a work of art. “The rigid, rule-following sheriff who likes things just so is okay with a little mess once in a while?”

He stopped just inside the kitchen and stepped around to face me. With gentle, slow movements, he reached up and pulled a tiny twig from my hair before brushing the sodden mass behind my shoulder, the soft brush of his fingers over my collarbone eliciting a trail of goose bumps in its wake. Then he leaned forward so his lips were right next to my ear, his mouth brushing the shell with each word. “When it’s warranted, I’m more than okay with it.”

My breath got caught in my throat, and I froze. Oh Jesus. Was he talking about sex? He was totally talking about sex. And I was standing there, completely pantiless and drenched—in all definitions of the word—while this walking, talking wet dream of a man loomed in front of me. So fierce and protective. So solid and sure. So very Brady.

“Noted,” I said, planting my feet firmly on the floor so I didn’t do something stupid like run away. Or jump into his arms and climb him like a tree.

He pulled back, his gaze dipping to my mouth, and I held my breath, too afraid to burst the bubble of this moment. He swiped his tongue along his lower lip, and I tracked the movement with rapture. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’ll just grab you something to wear and then head—”

His radio crackled to life from where it was secured on his chest, the sound so loud and harsh in the otherwise quiet space, I startled. “Sheriff, can I get an update on your location?”

He maintained eye contact with me as he reached up and pushed a button on the radio. “I’m just getting a few things settled at home, and then I’ll be on my way in.”

“Afraid you won’t. We’ve got reports of a downed power line on Lincoln, which means you’re blocked in. Mother Nature’s spoken, and it looks like she wants you off the clock like you’re supposed to be.”

Oh shit. This was bad. This was so bad. I’d come here thinking I’d have solitude. That I wouldn’t be forced to be in Brady’s presence and that we’d have a little space from each other to cool down. That usually worked when things heated up between us.

But the problem was, this wasn’t the usual form of heat. It wasn’t the first time he’d turned me on, no, but something was different tonight. Whether it was the undercurrent of danger, the wrecked and ravaged look he had to him, or simply the fact that my dumb ass hadn’t worn panties today, but it was different.

And now, there was no escape.

Brady’s jaw ticked as he stared at me, and I wondered if the same things were going through his head that were going through mine—namely, which flat surface to get naked on first.

He held the button on his radio, his eyes locked with mine. “Keep me posted.”

“Roger that, Sheriff.”

And then there was nothing but silence in the space surrounding us. Though the weight of the tension between us might as well have had a heartbeat of its own, the pulse thrumming so harshly through my body, I swore I could feel it. I wasn’t so sure that Brady’s and my entire acquaintance thus far hadn’t been one big foreplay session. Because as I stood in his house, surrounded by his things and his scent and him, I wanted nothing more than to pull his face down to mine and kiss him again.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me, Sheriff.” I cocked my head to the side and bit my lip, trying to tell myself I did not find it attractive as I watched him shed his gear methodically. How that focus would feel directed at me. “How ever will we fill our time?”