The Braddock Boys: Colton

“Go home to your wife.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself.”

“But I’m going to.” Colton met his brother’s gaze. “This is my fight, not yours. You know that.” While they’d all suffered thanks to Rose, Colton had suffered the most. He’d lost everything and he would be the one to make her pay.

Brent looked as if he wanted to object, but then he nodded. “If you change your mind about tonight, we’ll be at my place.” In the blink of an eye, he was gone and Colton settled back in his seat to keep watch.

At least, he tried to settle in. But his nerves were wound too tight, his hands clenched, his gut tense.

Not because of Rose. Brent was right about one thing—she wasn’t even close. Colton could sense other vampires and while he felt the steady hum from his brothers and the others in Skull Creek, that was it. No prickling up his spine. No tingling in his limbs. No spike of anger in his gut.

Yet.

But she would come eventually and he would have his pound of flesh. That would be the end of it.

The end of him.

Because this wasn’t just about defeating Rose. It was about punishing her for what she’d done, and then paying the price himself for not preventing it in the first place.

That’s why he’d come here.

Skull Creek would be the end. Of Rose and of the damnable guilt that ate away inside of him.

Until then …

The scent of ripe cherries teased his nostrils. His mouth watered and his gut twisted and he stiffened.

He was in for a long night.

SHELLY WAS ON HER third donut when Bobby arrived with a tall, tanned blonde in tow.

“I wasn’t soliciting,” Honey Gentry said as the deputy steered her into a chair. “I was advertising.”

Although well into her late thirties, the woman didn’t look a day over twenty-five. With long, dark blond hair and a figure that would make any Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader insanely jealous, Honey was the sort of woman who turned heads when she walked into any room. Especially wearing skimpy Daisy Duke shorts that accented her long, endless legs and a red tank top that outlined her perfect breasts. Add a pair of red cowboy boots and it was no wonder she’d caused a riot at the Sac-n-Pac.

“Thank God. Finally I can talk to someone who doesn’t think with his crotch.” Heavily lined cornflower blue eyes shifted to Shelly. “This is all a big misunderstanding.”

Shelly arched an eyebrow. “I thought you promised Judge Myers that you were going to turn over a new leaf if he let you off with probation last year?”

“I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“Not yet.” Bobby handed over a hot pink flyer. “I caught her just in time. She was handing out these. Gave one to the mayor’s wife. She’s the one who called it in.”

“Pinkie Hamilton is as nutty as a squirrel turd. She’s just mad ‘cause her husband is one of my best customers.” Honey beamed. “He loves my honey buns.”

“You might want to keep that info to yourself until you talk to a lawyer,” Shelly warned.

“I was just advertising my product. That isn’t against the law.”

“It is if the product is a sexual favor.”

“It’s not a sexual favor.” Honey beamed. “I’ve expanded from breakfast pastries,” she indicated the basket that Bobby had plopped on Shelly’s desk, “to cupcakes. It’s my new business. I’m a cupcake caterer.”

“Yeah, right.” Bobby snorted and glanced at the pink flier. “You’re trying to tell us that Decadent Thunder Down Under is the name of a cupcake?”

“One of my top sellers.” Honey flicked her long mane of hair. “And it’s the mayor’s personal favorite which is why his wife hates my guts. She can’t cook a lick.” She motioned to the basket. “I’ve got a half dozen to deliver to him. He got stuck in a late meeting so I thought I’d do a little advertising at the Sac-n-Pac until he finished.” She motioned to the basket of sweet-smelling goodies. “It’s my granny’s recipe.”

“Cupcakes, huh?” Shelly eyed the list. “Chitty Cherry Bang Bang and Lickety My Banana Split,” she read out loud and her gaze shifted to Honey. “Don’t you think those names might be misconstrued?”

“It’s called suggestive branding. I learned it on the internet.” The woman shrugged. “It ain’t my fault if this whole town’s got their minds in the gutter. I’m just trying to beef up my business.”

“Well you’re out of business for now,” Bobby informed her as he slid behind his desk and reached for an arrest sheet.

“For soliciting?” Shelly asked the deputy.

Bobby shook his head. “When I told Pinkie I couldn’t arrest someone just because of a flyer, she got the owner of the Sac-n-Pac to file charges for loitering.”

“But that’s not fair,” Honey protested. “I wasn’t loitering. I was an actual customer. I even bought a large sweet tea and a bag of Doritos before I started handing out flyers.”

“Tell it to the judge.” Bobby reached for his fingerprint kit while Shelly barely resisted the urge to put a stop to the nonsense.

“I’m sure Judge Meyers will throw it out in a heartbeat,” she told Honey. “But we have to go through the motions when anyone presses charges.”

“This sucks.” Honey blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m going to miss Lost.”

“Maybe not.” Shelly made a mental note to get Bobby to move the small television from the back room into Honey’s cell. Yes, it violated about ten different rules, but this was a small town and these were trumped up charges. Tit for tat.

She gave Honey an encouraging smile and settled down behind her desk to finish up her own paperwork.

Her thoughts kept going to Colton Braddock and the all important fact that out of all the men who’d crossed her path that day, he’d turned out to be The One. Also known as the answer to her sexually frustrated prayers. Which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing except he wasn’t here because he wanted to have a little fun. He was here to do a job.

And he was coming back tomorrow.

She stiffened and eyed the basket sitting on the corner of her desk. Icing clung to the edge of the lid and the warm scent of sugar and vanilla teased her nostrils. The trio of donuts she’d had hadn’t come close to touching the hunger that gnawed inside of her. She needed something more filling.

She needed him.

Shelly shook away the sudden thought and leaned forward. Her hand was an inch shy of the basket when the door buzzed open and a redhead wearing a pair of oversize sunglasses rushed inside.

“Hide me,” said Shelly’s younger sister.

“Sunglasses? Really? It’s seven o’clock in the evening.”

“I don’t want to be recognized.” As if that would ever happen. At twenty-three, Darla Lancaster was tall and leggy with a killer body and enough sex appeal to have all the men in town chasing after her. She’d slowed down long enough to let one in particular catch up, only to leave him at the altar three days ago with no explanation. She’d been avoiding him ever since.

“Billy Spoon saw me coming out of the Iron Horseshoe about ten minutes ago,” Darla said, breathless. “I’m sure he’s on the phone right now blabbing to Tom.” Tom was the man she’d stood up at the altar. He was also a high powered lawyer and the mayor’s son. Translation? He had connections. Lots of them. “I’m not ready to see him yet.”

“You left him high and dry in front of a church full of people. You left me high and dry in front of a church full of people.” Wearing the worst dress ever, she added silently. “Don’t you think you owe him an explanation?” While the wedding planner had told everyone that the bride had had a family emergency, there’d been no further details as to why the lavish event had been cancelled. Nothing but an “I’m sorry” and “Be sure to pick up a slice of cake for the road.”

“How can I explain what happened when I don’t even know?” Darla rushed to the window, slid the sunglasses down her nose and peeked past the blinds. “He’s rich. Handsome. Nice. Perfect.” She turned a confused expression on Shelly. “I left the perfect man at the altar. What’s wrong with me?” Before Shelly could respond, she added, “He sent me flowers today. Imported Italian tea roses. Only the best for the best.” Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s what the card said. Talk about a great guy, right? Tom can give me everything I’ve ever wanted. Even the sex is good.” Her gaze collided with Shelly’s. “So why don’t I love him?”

“Love is overrated.” Shelly had learned that firsthand after watching their mother fall in love over and over again. “Settle for good sex and consider yourself lucky.”

“I can’t marry him if I don’t love him. But if I blow him off, he’ll get really mad and then he won’t want to marry me. Then what if I change my mind and decide I do want to marry him?” She shook her head. “I just need to stay out of sight while I try to figure things out. That way I keep my options open.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Even more ridiculous, it made sense. At least where Darla was concerned.

Shelly and her sister had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks with little money and few choices. With their mother out kicking up her heels every Saturday night and most nights in between, they’d been left to fend for themselves. Alone. Scared. Uncertain.

Shelly had overcome that uncertainty by working her way through the police academy and joining the Sheriff’s department. Her baby sister had done it with makeup and hair extensions. While Shelly could outshoot any man in Skull Creek, Darla could have him eating out of her hand with one sultry smile.

“My shift ended a few hours ago. Bobby can stall him if he comes in while I drop you off on my way home.” She motioned to the rear of the jail. “My car’s out back.”

Darla grinned. “You’re the best big sister in the world.”

“Remember that the next time you’re tempted to force me into a hideous bridesmaid’s dress.”

“That dress was straight off a Paris runway, not that you would know that, since the last time you actually went dress shopping was—I don’t know—never. Speaking of which—” She eyeballed her sister. “—since you’re going to bite the bullet and find yourself a man, you might want to fix yourself up a little.” She stared at Shelly’s starched brown cover-everything-up uniform. “Your wardrobe needs sexing up in the worst way.”

“My wardrobe is just fine the way it is and the newspaper made a mistake. It wasn’t my ad.”

Darla smiled. “I knew it! I told Mom that it had to be a misprint, but she thinks you’ve finally lightened up and are now following in her footsteps.”

She glared at her sister. “Just meet me out back.”

5

SHELLY WASN’T SURE what bothered her more—seeing Colton Braddock still parked outside the jail at midnight when she’d come back after dropping her sister off. Or the zing of excitement she felt at finding him there.

He sat behind the wheel of his black Ford pick-up, his window down, his hat tipped low, his attention fixed on the building directly across the street.

She eased her Mustang up behind him and killed the engine. A few seconds later, she leaned into the open passenger window of his truck. “Nice night.”

He didn’t so much as glance at her. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on the jail. “Nice enough.”

“You usually start most of your assignments with a stakeout?”

“I like to get a feel for a place before I go in.”

“And what’s your feel for this place?”

He shrugged one broad shoulder and she had the same sense of déjà vu that had come over her when he’d first stepped inside the jail.

As if she’d seen him somewhere before.

Duh. You’ve seen his brother. There has to be a family resemblance.

Probably.

“Typical small town set-up.” His voice killed any further speculation and drew her full attention. “Front office. Rear containment area. Two or three cells at the most. Good when it comes to a few drunks and the occasional bar fight. Not so good for a prisoner like Holbrook.”

“You’re here because of him, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Either you are or you aren’t.” She watched him watch the building. “So which is it? Did the county send you in because they don’t think we can handle it?” That I can handle it? “Or is this all just a coincidence?”

Her instinct was telling her it was number one. Still, she couldn’t help but hope she was wrong.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to put her out of her misery. Seconds ticked by before he leaned across the cab and grabbed the door handle. The latch clicked and the door opened.

“Get in and I’ll tell you.” Challenge gleamed hot and bright in his gaze.

Shelly had never been one to shy away when called out. That, and she suddenly couldn’t help herself. While her brain told her to run like hell, her hormones were like heat-seeking missiles and Colton Braddock was a blazing inferno. She climbed in.

Leather shifted as she settled on the seat. Hinges creaked and the door closed with a thud. The rich aroma of sexy male surrounded her, pushing and pulling at her already tentative control. The urge to slide across the seat and cozy up nearly overwhelmed her. It had been so long since she’d felt a man next to her.

Even more, she’d never felt one like Colton Braddock.

An air of sensuality clung to him, as if sex was as natural to him as breathing. The musky scent of leather and male filled the cab, teasing her senses and making her heart flutter. The air between them crackled with electricity.

The chemistry was potent, but she wasn’t about to give in to it. The last thing she needed was for him to report back to the county that she was anything but professional. This was her job. Her future. And so she gathered her strength and her composure.

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