The Bad Boys' Reluctant Woman(12)
She turned to stare at him. He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes. Her walls came up firmly in place. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the ride.” She brushed past him, and in the next second she’d disappeared into the crowd.
“Wow, what did you do to her, Connor?” Brent asked.
“I’m not giving up, and it’s pissing her off. Have either of you two heard of Bill?” He stared at his two friends.
They both shook their heads.
“What’s up?”
“I was coming out of Zoe’s apartment over near the trailer parks. A guy was waiting for her. I don’t like him. He stinks of awful shit.”
“Maybe he just needs a shower?” Jake said.
Connor didn’t rise to the bait of the joke. “I don’t think so. I didn’t get that vibe from him.”
Cheryl came out of the shop followed by Noah and Drew. Connor watched as both men embraced her before she walked off to where she worked. He wanted that. He wanted Zoe to visit him with a smile and treats and be happy to be their woman.
Connor rubbed his chest as an ache began to fill him.
“Go and ask the sheriff. I’m sure he’ll know something if that’s the case.”
He nodded then made his way back to work. The sound of the giggling school kids was driving him crazy. Zoe filled his mind, and all he thought about was the frustration of the fact he didn’t have her.
If he didn’t catch her soon, he was going to lose his mind.
****
Several days later
Brent sat at the bar watching Zoe work. Connor and Jake were at home. Connor had fallen asleep after being awake for nearly forty-eight hours. When he started with the insomnia, Jake and Brent let him sleep whenever he could. Brent was under no illusion that he’d be out watching Zoe during the night.
Vicki handed him a beer. “Why are you alone?” she asked.
“The others have left me,” Brent said, never once taking his eyes off the woman at the far end of the bar. Since the moment he’d taken his seat, she’d made sure to stay as far away from him as possible.
“Are you three still determined to have her?”
“That’s none of your business, sweetheart.” He handed her some money.
“I just think you’re wasting your time with her. She clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
“Shut up, Vicki.”
“You’re all panting after her like lovesick puppies. Is that why you’re still here?” Vicki asked.
Brent glared at her. He saw she didn’t mean anything bad by what she was saying. “It’s none of your business.”
“Zoe intends to leave Law Castle in the next couple of weeks. I heard her talking about it the other day.”
That was news to Brent. He didn’t like it. “Thanks for the beer.” He remained in his seat.
She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. The Dugout was busy once again. Tristan Carmichael, the local Sheriff and all around bad-ass, took the seat next to him. The guy had more tattoos than Brent did. Tristan was forty-five years old with a heart made of stone. He’d declined to be part of the Law Castle Bad Boys. Brent had a lot of respect for the Sheriff. He kept the town clean, at least most of it.
“Connor came to see me the other day,” Tristan said, raising his hand to get the attention of the barmaids. Brent smirked when he saw Vicki purposefully be busy and send Zoe over instead.
“What can I get you?” Zoe asked. Brent knew she’d never seen the Sheriff. Tristan rarely came into The Dugout. He had more particular tastes.
“Zoe, I’d like you to meet Law Castle’s finest Sheriff, Tristan Carmichael.”
The two shook hands. “What can I get you?” she asked again.
There was no change in her attitude. Zoe didn’t like law enforcement either.
“A beer would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
She disappeared.
“Is that the girl I’ve heard so much about?”
“If you mean to ask, is she the girl busting mine, Jake, and Connor’s balls, then the answer is yes.”
“Here’s your beer.” She handed the beer, took the money then placed the change on the counter without touching Tristan.
“She doesn’t like you.”
“Criminals or runaway foster kids don’t,” Tristan said.
“Zoe’s not a criminal.”
“I know.”
“She’s a foster kid?” Brent asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
Brent sat down staring at the guy next to him. Tristan was a strange guy. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’ve looked at her file. Zoe Howard is her name. She’s got some interesting facts about her, and no, she’s not a criminal, but she might be a runaway foster kid.” He watched as Tristan tipped the bottle and took a long swig.