Page 15 of Midnight & Mavericks

“I don’t trust him either,” Abbie admitted, surprising herself with her honesty. “But I don’t know what his angle is. Why would he want to own our ranch? He’s not a rancher type.”

“He did say he had wealthy clients who were interested in investment properties, but I don’t think that’s it. I mean who is going to offer more than a piece of property is worth? Not a very sound investment to me unless there’s something we don’t know,” Beau said, standing and draining the last of his coffee. “We’ll figure it out. Between the two of us, we’ve got a leg up on the competition.”

Abbie looked up at him, her breath catching slightly at the determination in his eyes. “The two of us?” she repeated, her voice softer than she intended.

“Yeah,” Beau said, his tone serious now. “I sense you operate a lot on instincts and so do I. I think between the two of us, we’ll figure this whole thing out.” She thought he didn’t like people in his business, or at least he didn’t like women in his business. Maybe she’d misjudged him.

For a moment, Abbie didn’t know what to say. She just nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions. As Beau turned to leave, she felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that he was giving her space, and disappointment that he wasn’t staying.

“Beau,” she called out before she could stop herself.

He turned back, his hand on the doorframe, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

“Thanks,” she said simply, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beau’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and for the first time, Abbie felt like she was seeing the man beneath the sarcasm and bravado. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart.”

She didn’t even have the energy to argue with him about the nickname. As much as she hated to admit it, Beau was right. About Teddy, about the ranch, about everything. And maybe he was right about her too.

Abbie watched Beau stride out, his broad shoulders brushing the edges of the doorway like he owned the place. There wassomething maddening about him, something infuriatingly self-assured that made her want to claw her way past his calm exterior just to see if she could rattle him.

Abbie straightened, her jaw tightening with determination. That line of thinking couldn’t continue. She had no time for distractions, especially one as potentially lethal to her equilibrium. So, she put her mind to work, to plan ways to deflect, to distract, and to distance herself from his infuriating attitude and sexy-as-hell body.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. She’d come back to the ranch for one reason—to fix her grandfather’s financial mess and make sure he could keep the place running. That was it. A short trip, a quick resolution, and then she’d be back in Manhattan, back to the world where she was in control.

Because that was where she belonged. In control. Flying solo. Steering her own ship without anyone else getting in the way. That was how she liked it. How she needed it.

Abbie closed her eyes, willing herself to focus. A few days, tops. She’d dig into the ranch’s financials, smooth out the wrinkles, and make sure her grandfather had what he needed to keep things afloat. That was the plan. The only plan. And yet…

Detective Elliott was infuriating. Too cocky for his own good, always ready with a smirk or a smart remark designed to set her off. And yet… there was something else there, something that made it hard to dismiss him outright. She hated that she even noticed it, but she did.

The way his eyes softened when he talked to her grandfather. The way his tone shifted from teasing to serious when he thought no one else was paying attention. The way he seemed to see right through her defenses, no matter how high she tried to stack them.

It was maddening. She couldn’t afford to lose focus now. Not when there was so much to do, so much riding on her abilityto untangle the web of financial strain her grandfather had somehow kept hidden from her.

And certainly not when there was a man like Beau Elliott lurking around, ready to poke holes in her carefully constructed armor with a single look.

She set her coffee cup down with more force than necessary, the ceramic clinking against the tabletop. No. She wasn’t going to let herself be distracted. She’d dealt with tougher situations before, harder battles, and she’d come out on top every time.

Beau might have a knack getting her attention, but that was as far as it went. He was a distraction and nothing more. All she had to do was keep her mind on her grandfather’s problems until she could leave, and she was very experienced at keeping men away from her heart.

Chapter Ten

The next morning, Beau sat at his desk in the Jessup Peak sheriff’s office, the faint hum of the ancient computer’s hard drive drowning out the spit and sizzle of the equally ancient coffee pot. A half-empty cup of coffee sat beside a notepad cluttered with his shorthand observations, along with the beginnings of a profile he’d been piecing together on Teddy Van Meter.

Despite the quiet, the tension in his shoulders hadn’t eased since sunrise. He couldn’t seem to get Abbie Carter out of his head, especially after their meeting yesterday. Something had changed between the two of them and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He would like nothing better than to pursue a romantic entanglement with Abbie, but he wasn’t ready for a long-term commitment, and he had found over the years, commitment and a white picket fence were most women’s end game.

The knock on Beau’s office door came so hard and sharp that it startled him. He barely had time to mutter a gruff "come in" before the door swung open with a force that made it slam against the wall. And there she was—Abbie Carter, eyes blazingand jaw set, her determined energy filling the small room like a storm rolling in.

“Good morning to you too,” Beau drawled, leaning back in his chair. He didn’t bother to hide his smirk. He’d been expecting her, but not this early and not with quite so much fire, especially after their softer good-bye yesterday. “What can I do for you?”

“You can start,” she snapped, her voice clipped and her hands on her hips, “by explaining why I haven’t heard a single word from you about the investigation.”

Beau sighed, dragging a hand over his face. He should’ve known this was coming. He set his pen down on the cluttered desk and gestured to the chair across from him. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I don’t want to sit,” Abbie shot back. “I want answers.”

Beau arched an eyebrow, amused despite himself. There was something about the way she stood there, all righteous indignation and fiery determination, that made it impossible for him not to poke the bear. “Answers to what exactly? Because unless you’ve forgotten, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since we last spoke. Not much has changed since then.”

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