Coming Home To Crimson. Michelle Major
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She pointed at her ex-boyfriend. “You have a saggy butt.”
The valet snickered as Kevin’s mouth dropped open.
Cole turned to her, one corner of his gorgeous mouth twitching with amusement. His honey-brown gaze held hers for a moment. “You went there,” he muttered. “Really?”
“I deserve better than you,” she continued, moving around Cole to go toe-to-toe with Kevin. “I deserve better than how you treated me.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he said, and she wondered why she’d never noticed that when he smiled it looked more like a sneer. “If you weren’t such a stuffy prude, I wouldn’t have had to find another woman to warm the bed. This is your—”
His head snapped back as her fist connected with his nose. She yelped, as surprised by the fact that she’d punched him as she was by the pain in her knuckles. Kevin cried out, covering his face with his hands.
“You saw her. Assault and battery,” he shouted through his fingers.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cole promised. He gestured to the valet. “Get him a towel and some ice.” Then he grabbed Sienna’s arm. “I think you’re done here.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No more talking,” he told her, half leading and half dragging her across the street to his Jeep. “Let’s just get out of this town before you cause an even bigger scene.”
She stopped a few feet from the car. “Are you going to make me sit in the back seat?”
“I should after that stunt,” Cole said but opened the passenger door for her. “Get in. Your saggy bottomed ex has gone into the hotel. We should be gone by the time he comes out again.”
Neither of them spoke as Cole drove out of Aspen. The upscale shops and restaurants housed in historic brick buildings gave way to apartment complexes and other, newer structures and finally changed to open meadows as he took the turn onto the highway that led to Crimson. It was the third time today she’d driven this stretch of road.
As they passed a herd of cattle grazing in a field behind a split-rail fence, Sienna searched for the mama and baby she’d spotted earlier this morning. The young calf, which couldn’t have been more than a few weeks or months old, had been glued to its mother’s side as if that was the safest place in the world to be.
Sienna wished she could relate to that feeling.
“I don’t make scenes,” she said, finally breaking the silence.
Cole’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Then you do a great imitation of someone who does.”
“It’s not my fault he cheated,” she whispered.
Cole glanced over at her. “Say it like you mean it, sweetheart.”
“I do. I want to.” She clasped her hands tight in her lap. “He was right about one thing. My mother is going to be irked by this situation.”
“The part where he cheated or the part where you broke up with him because of it?”
“We were supposed to get engaged on this trip,” she said because she wasn’t ready to answer his question out loud.
“Then I’d say you dodged a bullet.”
She held on to that comment for a moment, cupped it between her hands—like a kid would with a firefly late on a summer night—and found she liked the light shining from it. So she tucked that light inside herself, the way she’d learned to do with anything that made her happy but would have disappointed her mother.
Sienna had learned early how to pick her battles with Dana Crenshaw Pierce, and most of them weren’t worth waging.
“Did you grow up in Crimson?” she asked, needing a break from talking about her own messed-up life.
It was a simple enough question but Cole tensed like she’d just requested he recount his first sexual encounter in graphic detail, then broadcast the story across his cruiser’s radio.
“No.”
“Somewhere in Colorado?”
“No.”
“Okay then.” When he didn’t add anything more, she threw up her hands. “I’m going to assume you’re some sort of super secret law enforcement guy and you’ve had your past wiped out by the covert government agency that basically owns you and if you breathe one word of where you came from or who you used to be, everyone in your family will die.”
“They’re already dead,” he said quietly.
“Oh.” She reached out a hand, placed it on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He swerved off the highway to the shoulder, braking hard. The Jeep’s tires crunched in the dirt and gravel. Sienna tried to catch her breath as she was jostled in her seat.
“Let’s get a few things straight.” Cole’s voice was as jarring as fingernails on a chalkboard. “I don’t need or want your pity.”
“I wasn’t—” she began, but he held up a hand.
“We’re not friends,” he continued. “We’re not going to be friends. You were a mess this morning and I was taking care of my friend by taking care of you. If the ex-boyfriend is any indication, you need serious help with your taste in men. Maybe you need help in general.” He jabbed a finger toward her, then back at himself. “I’m not going to be the one to give it. I’m dropping you off at the rental car agency, and we’re done. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” she said, feeling as if she had ice forming inside her veins. She straightened her skirt, wishing it were a few inches longer so her legs weren’t exposed to Cole’s gaze. She could feel him watching her, although she refused to make eye contact.
She sat tall, shoulders back, her posture impeccable—the way she’d been taught in the five years of ballet classes her mother had wrenched out of her after Dana had married Craig Pierce and had the money to reinvent herself. To recreate both of their lives—a do-over of monumental proportions and one Sienna had never wanted.
Eventually Cole blew out a long breath, then started driving again. Sienna didn’t so much as twitch until he pulled into a rental car parking lot that was part of a strip mall a mile past the Crimson city limits sign. The rental car place shared the space with a grocery store, a hair salon and a sandwich shop.
As soon as the Jeep stopped, she unfastened her seat belt and opened the door.
“Thank you for the ride,” she mumbled over her shoulder, because along with perfect posture, good manners had been drilled into her. Oddly, she felt almost as angry with Cole as she was with Kevin, which was stupid because the sheriff didn’t owe her anything. He’d done her a favor this morning, but they weren’t friends. He was nothing to her, so why had her chest ached when he’d told her exactly that?
“Sienna.”