Page 58 of Brewbies
Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.
“Is this about McGarvey wanting to take me out?”
“It’s not,” he said a little too quickly.
“Then what’s the deal?” Darby asked in exasperation. “Because whatever this is, it needs to stop right now. I’m not a toy you can just set on a shelf when you’re finished playing.”
Ethan whipped around to face her. “Look, it’s none of my business who you talk to—”
“You’re right,” she said, parking her hand on her hip and narrowing her eyes at him. “It’s not.”
“But Trent is…is—”
“Is? The suspense is killing me, truly.”
The muscles in Ethan’s jaw bunched. “Never mind.”
Darby stepped on the length of extra rope with the callused sole of her bare foot. “Oh no you don’t.”
“I really need to get going.”
“You really need to tell me what you were going to say.”
Ethan’s eyes sank to the gnarled roots of the tree. “McGarvey is a new hire.”
“And?”
Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed on a swallow. “And he’s still earning the town’s trust. Learning how things work around here.”
Darby felt the corner of her eye begin to twitch. The way everyone talked about Townsend Harbor like it was someone’s maiden aunt in need of sheltering from life’s seedier details drove her absolutely batshit.
“And you’re afraid that his fraternizing with the local slattern would impede his gradual transformation into a close-minded Townsendite?”
The sole of Ethan’s boot scuffed at a patch of grass they’d gouged during the course of their senseless frenzy. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
He glanced over his shoulder, toward the road that led to the hamlet in question. “There’s a certain distance I like to keep between my private life and my civic responsibility. Deputy McGarvey is part of the civic responsibility. If you’re going to see him socially, I only ask that what’s between us stays between us.”
Darby blinked at him, her mouth in imminent danger of becoming a moth cave if she didn’t remember how the hinge of her jaw worked.
“I literally have your DNA drying on my ass cheek, and you’ve got your testes in a twist thinking that I’m going to out you to your own deputy over a bowl of cioppino?”
Ethan’s ears had turned the color of a ripe tomato, effectively answering her question.
“Jesus, Ethan.” Darby shook her head, turning away from him and running a hand through her passion-tangled hair. Treacherous tears welled behind her eyelids, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She needed to get rid of him, and fast.
“This isn’t why I—”
“Get off my property,” she said through gritted teeth.
Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped his tools into the wooden box and made for his truck. As the taillights disappeared through trees, Darby kicked at a nearby rock with such force that it ricocheted off a tree trunk with an audible thud before disappearing into the darkness of the night. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something.
She wanted…
She wanted to rewind the last five minutes and slap a piece of duct tape across his mouth before he could ruin a perfectly good postcoital cuddle.
Despite her simmering rage, Darby could still feel the imprint of his body against hers, could sense the heat of their passionate embrace still lingering on her skin.
