“Fuck you,” I say. “I won’t be blackmailed into anything, you sleazy little—”
He cuts me off. “Oh you will, orI’llbe leaking this info to the public, and trust me I have my proof.” He blows out a whistle. “And that proof paints your bride in a very unbecoming light. I’m not afraid to drag her and her father’s name through the mud, just for the clout.”
The fucker shrugs and makes atsking sound.
“Laurel Creek’s sheriff, already the most notorious—how should we put it?—bachelorin town,” he says. “Goes to Vegas, gets drunk, and on a whim marries the congressman’s daughter? Then there’s me, the stand-up guy that swooped in and took in your ex when you left her so you could whore around with half of Kentucky. Whowillthey choose?”
He has it all ass backward, and we both know it. Gemma is the one who slept with every available guy in town after we split up, including this fucker. My mind reels as he continues his fiction.
“Might not be enough to lose the confidence of the fussytownsfolk,” he purrs in a low voice, “but it sure wouldn’t look good for our stand-up congressman or his daughter. Not to mention I doubt Mabel would want to hear her dad got married to hernanny.”
That fucking does it. I push Brent in one movement into the corner of the room against the paneling, away from the crowd. His soft body flops backward and I fist his shirt, ruining his tie in the process.
“If you threaten to hurt my wife or my daughtereveragain, I’ll fucking gut you like a fish, and I’ll enjoy every second of it,” I seethe.
Brent shifts underneath me, trying desperately to escape my hold. But he’s no match for the fury coursing through me. His confidence wanes under my hold but he does his best to appear strong. He holds his chin up and I smell the whiskey on his breath.
“Iwillsend it to the press. Anonymously. I should’ve won anyway.” He spits the words out the way a ten-year-old would. Like a sore loser. Actually, fuck that. A ten-year-old would have more class than this guy.
I chuckle. “Oh yeah, and why is that, you piece of shit?”
“I’ve been a cop longer than you, and the only reason you won is because you’re an Ashby,” he says. “Everyone in this town loved your pa and now you’ve got a hockey hero in your family. Not to mention you walk around flashing that shit-eating grin everywhere you go.”
“You’re wrong, Brent,” I retort. “You didn’t win because you’re fake, impulsive, you drink too much, and the town knows I’m the better man for the job.”
I push him back into the wall but then let him go as a few bystanders notice us struggling. I turn, refusing to let him think he has any kind of effect on me.
“You have until tomorrow night,” he calls out after me. “Ifyou haven’t stepped down by then, this will be tomorrow’s paper along with my proof. Photographic proof.”
I flinch.Fuck.
I disappear into the crowd, no direction in mind, just knowing I need to get away from Brent before I do something really newsworthy like pummel him. He’s right in a way—it wouldn’t bode well for Ginger or her father if the town found out about our drunken mistake. And I would never want Mabel or my family to discover our secret from anyone but me.
I realize that I’m searching for Ginger as I make my way through the crowd. I head down a hall where I assume she’ll be waiting with her father beyond the stage.
I stop before I round the corner, hearing their voices, and freeze, not wanting to eavesdrop but wanting to make sure she’s okay.
“It would have been nice if you had let me get ahead of it, Ginger,” I hear Edward say. “I could have prepared something in my speech to welcome the sheriff and his daughter. You know I don’t like surprises.”
I grit my molars and flex my fists to stop myself from moving.Let her handle it. She’s got this.
“I didn’t know they were coming,” Ginger says quietly, and I ask myself why this strong woman that doesn’t take shit from anyone takes this crap from her father.
“Well. that is just unacceptable,” Edward presses on. “I didn’t back him for sheriff, so how do you think it looks—”
“You know what, Dad, for once, I don’tcarehow it looks,” I hear Ginger say, a little louder this time, with a laugh. It’s enough to stop Edward from speaking. “This is mylife! Until five minutes ago I was happy, surprised that Cole cared enough to come and support you, support me. It’s a pretty romantic gesture if you ask me. But allyoucan think about is how you can spin it to make yourself look good.”
“In my line of work there can be no surprises,” Edward offers. “And heavens, Ginger, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not about romance. This is about optics. His past is less than favorable where women are—”
“That’s just it, Dad.” I hear her voice shaking and it takes everything in me not to go to her. I have to let her hold her own. She needs this, but more than that, she’s got this. She doesn’t need me to fight her battles. “For once, just once, I wish you thought of how I feel, my happiness, what I want instead of how it makes you look. I don’tworkfor you, I’m your daughter,” she says defiantly.
“What does that mean? Being a part of this family means bearing a responsibility, Ginger—” Edward tries to reason but she stops him in his tracks.
“There’s no need to rewrite your speech. You’d be best to leave Cole and Mabel out of it. They are here forme.” She sounds as though she’s about to cry. I can hear it in her voice but I’m so fucking proud of her right now, so I stay where I am.
She starts talking again. “Oh, and by the way, I’ve been really fucking happy these last couple months. Cole is incredible and he’s finally made me feelseen. In case you’re interested, which clearly you aren’t. Maybe you just shouldn’t call me until you are, Dad.”
With that, I hear her heels click down the hallway.