Free The Sheriff's Surrender by Marilyn Pappano Page A

permanently. She’d eased a bit of the tension when Reese spoke and the mere sound of his voice brought it racing back.
    â€œDo you need some aspirin?”
    She felt the tautness as her faint smile formed. “I need a new life—a normal life, where the people who say ‘I wish you were dead’ are generally talking out of anger or rebellion and aren’t really intending to plant a pipe bomb in your car or redecorate your bedroom with bullet holes. But since a normal life doesn’t seem likely at the moment, yes, aspirin would help.”
    He went to the cabinet next to the sink, then came back with an open bottle. He shook two tablets into her palm, then sat again. After she’d washed the pills down with pop, he quietly asked, “Did Forbes do that?”
    For a moment she considered not answering, but those were quite possibly the only non-accusing, non-bitter, non-hostile words he’d spoken to her. Besides, she was hiding in his house. If Forbes found her, the next car bombed might be Reese’s, the next house shot up, this one. It was only fair that he know.
    Managing another tight smile, she nodded. “The verdict’s not in on the bomb yet—whether it malfunctioned or their timing was simply off—but I wasn’t in the car when it exploded. As for the shots in the night, I was lucky. The first one woke me up and I managed to crawl to safety. But don’tworry. They say the third time’s the charm. Then I’ll be out of your life for good.”
    His features darkened into a scowl. “I don’t want—” Clenching his jaw on the denial, he dragged his fingers through his dark hair, then gave a shake of his head, as if he knew he was wasting his breath. “Look, we’re stuck here until Jace makes other arrangements, and God only knows when that will be. If we don’t start acting like reasonable adults, it’s going to be the most miserable time of our lives. We can either stay in our respective corners, or we can negotiate a truce.”
    Staying in their corners hadn’t worked very well so far, Neely admitted. She felt as if she’d gone five rounds with a much better opponent and couldn’t possibly survive another five. Compromise was the only reasonable action, though it held risks of its own. If Reese quit attacking her, if he let her forget for one moment that he despised her, she could be foolish enough to fall for him all over again. He was more handsome than ever, surely—with others, at least—as charming as ever, and she’d always been so susceptible. She’d built such fantasies around them.
    But he’d despised her so much more—and so much longer—than he’d ever loved her, and he wouldn’t forget, or let her forget. He was offering to compromise on his behavior, not his beliefs. That damning look in his eyes, the one that shadowed every other emotion he was feeling, would probably never go away, no matter what.
    â€œSo what do we do?” she asked. “Agree that certain topics are off-limits?”
    Reese shrugged.
    â€œThe Miller case?”
    â€œYour noble profession.”
    Ignoring the sneer underlying his words, she smiled. “Your narrow-minded, damn-the-law-and-the-lawyers pigheadedness.”
    He opened his mouth to refute her statement, then almost smiled. It had been so long since he’d smiled at her that she stared and made silent, fervent wishes that he would let thesmile form. He didn’t. “At least we agree that we don’t think much of each other professionally.”
    â€œYou’re wrong, Reese. I always thought you were the best thing that ever happened to the Keegan County Sheriff’s Department…until you became just like the others.”
    â€œI was never just like them,” he denied a little too quickly and too vehemently.
    â€œCareful there. A person might think you find being compared to your former fellow