Page 49 of Easton’s Claim

His eyes gleamed with hunger as he smiled at her. “You love it.”

Okay, yeah. She did.

Looking all too smug at her lack of retort, he tugged on her hand and they continued out the back door of the barn. Thin clouds drifted over the half moon and a damp, dew-scented breeze ruffled her hair.

The shed was painted to match the barn, situated a stone’s throw from the back entrance. It housed gardening tools and the ride-on lawnmower, as well as all her remaining clothes and the few pieces of furniture she’d packed away with the boxes.

As soon as they stepped out onto the gravel path that connected the barn and shed, Sarge pushed himself to his feet where he’d been napping against the barn. The old basset hound set his front paws out in front of his long body and gave a mighty, shuddering stretch, his butt and tail pointing skyward, then trotted after them.

Easton undid the padlock holding the door shut and flipped on the light. The twenty-by-twenty shed was stacked to the roof with her things. “Where are the ones with your clothes?” he asked, maneuvering his way through the stacks of cardboard boxes.

“I don’t remember but most of them should be labeled.” In her haste she hadn’t been as careful or organized as she normally would have.

“Of course they are,” he murmured.

She shot him a look. “Just look around until you find them. I’ll start here.” She stepped up to the closest one and ripped the packing tape off.

“Here. Try this.” Easton leaned over a stack of boxes to hand her a wickedly-sharp military-style blade, handle first. “Careful with it. It’s like a razor.”

She took it, blinked at him. “Where did it come from?” He was only wearing jeans and a T-shirt, plus his holster. The sheath must be hidden under one of the legs of his jeans.

His eyes held a mischievous twinkle. “I’ll let you search me later and find out.”

“All right, I’m game for that.” Smiling to herself, she sliced through the tape without any effort, and carefully set the knife on top of another box while she opened the first one. Towels, her pretty soaps and other toiletries met her gaze. “Nope. Not this one.” She folded the flaps together to lock them in place and set it aside, shook the next one to test for weight. The quiet clink of dishes answered what was in it.

Easton was already working his way through a stack of boxes on the other side of the shed. “Think I’ve got something here. Oh yeah,” he murmured, holding up a fistful of ruby red lace.

She blushed and opened her mouth to tell him to put it back but he shook it out and let the sexy chemise dangle by the straps from his hand. “You can wear this while you’re searching me,” he added, looking pleased with himself. “I wonder what else you’ve got in here?” He ducked his head and rummaged through the box some more. “Oh, man. I’m so glad I didn’t know you had a lingerie obsession all these years. It might have killed me.”

“You’re such a dork,” she said on a laugh and opened the next box. She finally found one containing something to wear over her lingerie hoard and dug through it to find some warmer items.

Sarge was sniffing around near her feet. She stepped out of his way and he disappeared through the maze of boxes to go search along the side of the shed, where all the furniture was.

“You find anything?” When Easton didn’t answer, she heard a softwoofand looked up. He was staring at something she couldn’t see, presumably Sarge, and the intent expression on his face made her pulse quicken. “What is it?”

“Look at him,” he said, pushing boxes aside to make a path for himself.

Piper hurried to do the same. After clearing enough room to squeeze through, she stepped around a stack of boxes and found Sarge sitting at the foot of one of her grandmother’s pieces. He was perfectly still, gazing up at Easton. “He’s not doing anything.”

“I think maybe he’s alerting. Get Wyatt.” Easton bent to examine the small chest of drawers.

Her eyes widened. Sarge was a retired narcotics and tracking dog.

Whirling, she rushed out of the shed and ran to the house. “Wyatt,” she called out as soon as she threw the back door open. “Easton thinks Sarge is alerting him about something in the shed. Can you come check?”

He was there in moments, jogging with her back to the shed. Easton was stretched out on his belly with a small flashlight out, studying the back of the chest. He looked up at Wyatt. “He was sniffing around, circling it, then just sat all of a sudden and woofed once. He hasn’t moved away from this spot.”

“Let me see,” Wyatt said, easing past her to squeeze in beside his brother. “Sarge. Search,” he said, pointing at the chest.

The old basset came to life before her eyes, tail wagging as he snuffled at the back of the piece of furniture, then sat, back ramrod straight, and looked up at Wyatt.

“Yeah, he’s got something.”

Piper stood off to the side and watched them work, hands on her cheeks. Oh God, had Greg hidden drugs in there all this time? What kind and how many? Her heart beat faster as she waited for them to find it. Just another disappointment when it came to her ex.

“I’ll be damned,” Easton muttered.

“What?” she asked, moving closer. Wyatt was crouched down beside his brother, eyes glued to something at the back of it.

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