Page 17 of Starting Over

“And now one of their widows just happened to decide to move here?” Colt asked. “I’m with the sheriff. This seems awfully coincidental.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” I asked.

I was trying to keep my temper contained.

I wanted to flatten Blade for putting my daughter at risk.

“About two months ago. The call went exactly like it has every other time.”

“Does my daughter know all this?”

“Everything but the phone calls. I didn’t want her worrying.”

“Asshole,” I muttered.

“Alright, Dec, enough. This isn’t his fault.” King sighed heavily and looked at Cash. “Go get Maureen and bring her in here.”

“You brought her here?” I yelled. “Did you fuck her?”

King jumped from his chair and stood toe to toe with me.

“Watch your fucking mouth. You may be the sheriff, but you’re my brother first, and I will lay you out if I have to.”

Gunner stepped between us, a hand on each of our chests. “This is not the time or the place for a pissing contest.”

We stood there glaring at each other for a few minutes before the door opened and Maureen walked in.

She was gorgeous last night, but this morning?

I didn’t have words to describe this woman.

She had piled her silver hair high atop her head and was glaring at me with her striking green eyes. She was fucking stunning, despite looking like she just crawled out of bed.

The question was, whose bed did she crawl out of?

I stomped over and stood looking down at her. My mouth opened before I could catch the words and keep them from being released.

“Did you fuck him last night?” I growled.

The widening of her eyes and the gasp that slipped from her lips caught me off guard.

Her right hook was even more shocking.

“Fuck you,” she barked and turned toward the door.

Colt was standing in front of it, preventing her from leaving, with a proud, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Declan!” King shouted.

He rushed over, getting between Maureen and me.

Looking at Blade, my brother ordered, “Call your old lady.”

Shit.

“Don’t you dare,” I warned, pointing my finger at my soon-to-be son-in-law.

“I take orders from King.” He smirked, placing his phone to his ear.

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