Page 37 of Waiting in Wyoming

She hummed and pressed closer. He wanted to get her naked as fast as he possibly could. Her fingers were in his hair, holding him closer.

Brandt’s hand slipped the blanket down and out of his damned way. He wanted nothing between them. She helped him.

He told himself not to act like a Neanderthal, not to rush her or do anything that she didn’t want. The rational part of his brain yelled at him to stick tothe plan. The part that had been in love with her for years was urging him to get rid of that hoodie and those flannel pants as fast as he humanly could.

The sound of a cell phone kept him from giving in to what he really wanted. He bit back a curse.

“The phone. I think it’s yours.” He grabbed her phone and handed it to her as another text came in.

“It’s Dahlia. She’s looking for me. She’s worried about something and the dining room is really busy. I need to…go. Back to my room. I need a shower. I was supposed to be off today, but I’m still on…call. I always check the kitchen when I’m off, and I didn’t today. I think that bothered her.”

“Tonight, you and I—I think we need to talk.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands. “I am tired of wasting time. No more waiting.”

“No more waiting.” Her hands wrapped around his wrists. “I don’t think we should wait any longer.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to see what can happen between us. I want to figure out why you make me feelthe way you do.”

Brandt just looked at her, trying to remember to breathe. As what she was saying sank in.

No more waiting. For either of them.

29

Dale was doingthe best he could. What had happened in Texas over the past several days had jeopardized everything. Everything.

The police had names now. Names that could lead right up to Masterson County, if careful digging took place.

Michelle’s cousin’s son Steven wasn’t going to recover. He was going to be in a coma probably for the rest of his life. Dale was thinking that was a good thing, though Michelle was understandably distraught. That boy just knew too much about everything—and the police knew he was involved now. It was better that Steven couldn’t talk now, couldn’t name names.

She had always been too fond of him, though Dale had never understood it. She had even funded part of his college tuition eighteen years ago. Said she’d felt obligated for what had happened to his mother when the boy had been a toddler, but she had never said what that was.

Now, Steven was in a Finley Creek hospital wasting away. And she was afraid to go to him, in case the connection was probed. Dale wasn’t stupid—Steven had nearly killed severalpeople, including a forensics tech related to a damned billionaire out of St. Louis.

And then there was Bruce Tyler.

Who wasenjoyingtoying with Dale now.

Tyler had sent Dale a photo of Sierra walking along the main street of Masterson, with a man he thought was that Dr. Paterson she had spoken about to him before. Paterson was far too old for Sierra, but it was the idea that Tyler, a man everyone knew had hurt his own children, had been that close to Sierra…

Dale was going to have to do something. Quickly.

To protect Michelle, somehow.

He just needed to figure out what.

She knocked on his door again. Dale just watched her; he loved her. More than anything. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for this woman. Anything.

Or the daughter they had created between them.

“Michie, what is it, darling?”

“I’m just worried. What if…we’ve made a mistake that comes back to haunt us?”

“We haven’t. I am making sure of that. Don’t worry. I will take care of everything.” And he would. Dale would do whatever it took.

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