“Pushes you how?”
“It’s like he understands the way I operate. And he enjoys shifting me away from my comfort zone.”
“Which is being in charge.”
“Exactly.”
“And you let him.”
“Well, not necessarily let. He sort of, I don’t know, made it worth my while that he be the one in charge. I could have stopped him.”
“But you didn’t.”
She sighed. “No. And I think what was happening between us was as much a new path for him as it was for me. At least he said as much. I think I believe him.” She laughed. “I’m not making any sense at all, am I.”
“More than you think, sweetie,” Nat said, all quiet and pondering again. “More than you think.”
“What in the hell does that mean?”
“It means this sounds familiar. He’s a rush, but confusing, scary because you want him really bad but you know it’s probably really wrong to give in to it because it’s supposed to just be about pleasure, and it is about that…but then he makes you look at yourself in a new way, and you know it could be about a whole lot more. Doubly scary given where you are in your life. Totally different from me, but yet a lot the same. Possible same outcome.”
Now Liza laughed, but it wasn’t the confident “yeah-right-sure” snort she’d intended. “Me? End up married to a small-town sheriff? I don’t think so.”
“Hey, watch it. You’re talking to a small-town lawyer here.”
“I know, I know.” She gave a long sigh. “This isn’t about falling in love, though. It’s not like you and Jake, Nat. We’re just…exploring. Things.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds exactly like me and Jake, at least in that we swore that sex and pleasure was all it would ever be, could ever be. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be exactly what you both want. Whatever that might be.” She blew out a breath and half laughed. “I can’t believe I’m telling you to go for this. Like you need to be encouraged to be incorrigible. But…well, I don’t know, Liza. Something about the way you sound…it strikes a chord in me. The new married-and-in-love me, anyway. As long as you think you have a handle on things—”
Liza snorted. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? Every time I think I have the upper hand, he flips things around until I don’t know what end is up.”
“And?”
Liza didn’t say anything for a long moment. “And, maybe, I like it. Well, not like it,” she added quickly, “but I don’t want to leave it yet, either. He wants to push me and I like to push back. We weren’t done pushing at each other yet.”
“Because of the fire.”
“Yeah. He was called to the scene and, well, I checked into a hotel.”
“You must have some control if you’re in a hotel and not waiting for him on his kitchen counter.”
“Ha ha. But that’s just it. He pushes and retreats. It’s a hell of combination. And he offered, but I said no.”
“But you’re staying in town because of…?”
“Breakfast. And okay,” she added impatiently when Natalie snorted. “Because we’re not done yet. I don’t know what done is, but we’re not there. Yet.” There was silence on the other end, and it dragged on long enough that Liza finally said, “Do you think I should just skip town and put this behind me?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I’ve been to enough therapists as a child to never answer a question with a question.” They both laughed. “I want to know what you think I should do.”
“Will you regret it if you leave now?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I think you have your answer then. You didn’t say ‘maybe’ first. Your instincts are usually dead on.”
“Except where stupid-ass soap actors are involved.”
“We both know that wasn’t about Conrad. That was you figuring out that maybe you’re hardwired more like the rest of us than you thought you were. He was just the man in your life when you came to that conclusion. Square peg, round hole. It was never the right fit and you know it.”
“You’re right. But it doesn’t make this any less confusing. I’ve made so many changes recently. It’s hard to sort out exactly what feels like the right thing to do.”
“Well, I met Jake and then the changes came right in the middle, and we had to deal with that and sort them out. Maybe your changes had to come first and you met him right in the middle.”
“You make this sound serious.”
She heard the smile in Natalie’s voice. “Honey, when you call me at this hour to talk about a man—a man you haven’t slept with yet—it is serious.” And while she let that little bomb of wisdom detonate and sink in, she added, “I love you. And I’ll love you no matter what you do. Just make sure you stay safe.”
“I’ve met the man’s mother. No way is he going to do anything nefarious with me.”
Nat laughed. “I still want to hear that story. And I wasn’t talking about physical safety.”
“Yeah,” Liza said softly. “I know. Thanks, Nat. Sorry I interrupted, but not really. I’m glad you were there.”
“Let me know how it goes, okay?”
“I will.”
There was a muffled noise, then a giggle, then a man’s voice on the line. “Nat has to go to bed now.”
Liza smiled. “Hi, Jake. Bye, Jake.”
“Good night, Liza.” There was another muffled laugh, then a small shriek, then the line went dead.
Liza hung up and rolled to her back, still clutching the pillow. Nat was right. She was hardwired more normally than she’d thought. Because she wanted that. That easy intimacy, that easy banter.
That going to bed with the same man every night.
She’d known before leaving L.A. Had become more sure of it after spending several weeks with Nat and Jake in Wyoming. But she could never attach an image to the desire.
Well, she could now.
“One hell of a detour you picked for yourself, Liza.”
11
“IT WASN’T AN ACCIDENT.”
Dylan glanced at what had now been classified as crime scene pictures, then back up at Tucker. “I know.”
Tucker hitched his hip onto Dylan’s desk. “I know you know. I think you knew before you even got to the scene.”
“A scene I only knew about because Avis called me,” he reminded him pointedly, then waved his hand. He’d knocked heads with Tucker since their high school football days. Nothing much had changed since and he doubted it ever would.
Tucker, golden boy and gridiron hero, had stayed in Canyon Springs and become a real hero, charging into burning buildings, saving lives, shrugging it off with his million watt smile…but letting the ladies fawn over him nonetheless. He could have been the youngest fire chief Canyon Springs had ever had, but decided instead to turn toward the investigative part of things, and wound up fire marshal. Dylan, town renegade and gridiron bad boy, had left Canyon Springs and become an unknown hero, scraping slime off the streets of faraway Vegas. He could have been the youngest captain on the force, but no one would ever know that. Instead he’d come home and run for sheriff. He didn’t court the spotlight and hated being fawned over by anyone.
Naturally, the town loved this dichotomy between its two high-profile heroes. Tucker enjoyed the status, comfortable with his well-earned mantle. Dylan paid no attention to his, vaguely uncomfortable with labels. He just went about getting the job done. Their rivalry was more a town thing than a personal thing, except Tucker enjoyed tweaking him with it whenever possible. Dylan only sunk to his level when he couldn’t help himself. Which was a bit more often than he’d like to think it was. He supposed the saying “boys will be boys” was coined for good reason.
“I had the scene under control,” Tucker responded, as Dylan knew he would. “You’d have had my report on your desk first thing in the morning.” He grinned and helped himself to Dylan’s coffee. “Instead of hashing this out at 3:00 a.m. But hey, this is what we live for, right?”
“This is what you live for. I’ve had my share of this, remember? I’d be perfectly happy home in bed right now.”
Tucker’s eyes flashed. “Oh yeah, that’s right.” He pulled a face. “Poor Liza. Losing her man to the job, just when she’d finally gotten him where she wanted him.”
If you only knew, Dylan thought. And he’d thought about it a lot. It didn’t help that she was less than a block away, tucked in bed. All warm curves and contrary nature. He stifled a smile and pushed at the photos on his desk. “Any word back from the hospital yet? How’s Payne?” The end three units of the strip motel were little more than a charred shell. The rest of the building had suffered both water and smoke damage. Luckily the few guests staying there had raced outside when the whole sprinkler system had been triggered by the one burning room.
Fred Payne, the night manager, had been taken away for smoke inhalation. He’d tried to fight the initial blaze with a fire extinguisher, then a hose, but it had quickly grown beyond his control and he’d retreated to wait for the fire department, which had shown up moments later.