fish a blank report from the contents inside, and leaned against the side of the SUV next to the opened door. He kept his focus on the form, even though the sight of Georgia’s bare legs beckoned. His fingers tingled and he clicked his pen a few times.
“You say you just picked up the car yesterday? Is it a rental?” If it was, it was a pretty specialized one.
“No, it’s mine.” Her fingers turned the water bottle this way and that. “First sports car I’ve ever owned. My purse is still in the car. My license. The registration. And my suitcase—”
“We’ll take care of that once Charlie pulls the car up. Where were you heading? Paseo’s not usually a person’s final destination. Too small. Not enough services. I can help you get to Amber Falls, though. Is there someone I can contact for you? Parents? Boyfriend?”
She bit her lip, looking in danger of crying again. “I was heading for Paseo, though. In fact, I was looking for the turnoff when—” She broke off, swallowing. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “My, uh, my oldest brother, Austin, is the best one to contact. He’s here with Felicity. His girlfriend. She’s lovely and actually is lightening up my brother. He’s way too serious, and...” She trailed off as if realizing she’d been rambling.
To a person, Pax knew everyone in town. The only Austin he knew of didn’t have a girlfriend and definitely wasn’t too serious. In fact, just last month he’d celebrated his third birthday with a party at Rosa’s Mexican restaurant. Pax had stopped in to say hello because he’d been filling his gas tank at the pumps in front of the restaurant, which also doubled as a grocery store. “What’s your brother’s last name?”
Her blue eyes peered at him from behind her wrist. “Fortune.”
Pax exhaled, stifling a curse.
Naturally, it would be Fortune.
He’d grown up in Paseo. Aside from the years he’d spent in Dallas, he’d lived here his entire life. And until a week ago, the only Fortunes he’d personally known were Jayden, Nathan and Grayson. And their mom, Deborah. Good, normal folk who’d had no connection at all to the famous Fortunes that made their homes elsewhere in the state.
Or so he’d thought.
Now, since Deborah was getting hitched to that eccentric billionaire who was connected and also happened to be the father of Deborah’s three sons, the area was overrun with all manner of people bearing that particular name.
And his peaceful little town had been turned upside down as a result. They’d filled up the little motel. And when that wasn’t enough, they’d set up a camp on his mom’s piece of land.
People like his mom and Rosa Hernandez, who had her whole family helping her provide enough food to feed the crowd at the makeshift campground, were benefiting financially, but Pax found it all a headache.
He clicked his pen a few times. “I should’ve known when I saw the make of the car,” he muttered. In the last few days, there’d been more luxury vehicles traveling this small stretch of highway than in the last decade. Before that, it had been semis and buses transporting all manner of things to his little spot of paradise.
What was usually his haven had turned into the worst kind of circus. Paseo. The newest playground for the rich and famous.
Which now included the NOLA girl.
Steeling himself against her appeal, he tapped the business end of his pen noisily against the form and its metal-backed board. “All right, then. Let’s get to it. Full name and date of birth—”
Georgia shivered as she stared at Pax, wondering where his gentle demeanor had disappeared to. The man who’d pulled her from the wreckage had made her feel safe. When he’d wrapped his arms around her, the blinding terror she’d felt had slid away.
A reaction to the situation? Undoubtedly. But she’d never ever forget that incalculable sense of pure and utter safety.
“Full name, ma’am,” he repeated brusquely.
Her rescuer still looked exactly the same. Except his eyes were no longer a soft, mossy sort of green filled with warmth and kindness. They were more like hard chips of emerald. Had turned that way the second she’d said the name Fortune.
He was the sheriff. He’d told her so, even though it said the word plainly enough on the gold badge pinned to the front of his torn khaki shirt.
“Georgia Mae Fortune,” she recited slowly.
“You’re one of those Fortunes, then.” The sheriff’s tone was even, but there was no question that he didn’t think very highly of “those Fortunes.”
Her nerves were too raw and she couldn’t help bristling. “I don’t know which Fortunes you’ve got a beef with, but my family comes from New Orleans. We just learned this year that we have a tie with the folks from around here. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“From what I’ve heard, your family has more branches on its tree than Carter’s got pills, and a scandal for every single one.”
“What bothers you more? The branches or the scandals?”
“The money you toss around like confetti. Date of birth?” His voice was clipped, too.
“January 1. And I don’t toss around money.”
“You bought that fancy car, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Year?” He arched an absurdly handsome eyebrow, considering how much dirt was caked on it. His hair had clumps on it, too, obscuring the dark strands. If he had any gray, she couldn’t tell. Not that it would detract from his looks. Men were always lucky that way.
She, on the other hand, had discovered a gray hair earlier that year. She’d promptly visited her hairstylist, who’d laughed it off and masterfully hid the culprit in a subtle weave of lighter shades of blond among her brown.
“Still waiting, ma’am,” the sheriff prompted.
She wanted to bare her teeth at him. She grudgingly supplied her birth year.
“Thirty’s not the end of the world.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the car, which was now being dragged up the hill by the heavy metal cable that the tow-truck driver had fastened to it. “Be glad that you’re going to be alive to see it when the day actually rolls around in a year and a half,” he reminded her flatly.
She shivered again, harder this time, and water spurted from the top of the bottle, splashing on her knee.
She felt his gaze follow and shivered even more.
Whether he disapproved of the Fortunes or not, she recognized interest in a man’s eyes when she saw it.
He didn’t wear a wedding ring. But then she knew plenty of men who didn’t. She’d even dated one for a few weeks before discovering he had a wife and a newborn baby waiting devotedly back home.
When Georgia had found out, she’d given
