Page 37 of Ridin' Solo
“This conversation isn’t over,” I said quietly.
Wyatt didn’t even answer me, just stared out the windshield as we whizzed past farmland. See? This was exactly why I shouldn’t make decisions based on emotion and impulse. Passion was a fickle beast, making you do things you’d never do otherwise. And when the passion fizzled, which it always did, what were you left with?
Disappointment.
17
Wyatt
Oakley went so deep into the ice-queen mode with me today, I was afraid my nuts would crack and fall right off. Damn, the woman knew how to put the frost in a conversation. Sure, I’d botched her chat with the sheriff, and basically given her no reason at all to trust that I wanted more than a casual fuck, but did she have to ice me out like that before I had a chance to explain?
Thankfully, we stayed busy all day with calls, ending our shift right on time and without a chance for more awkward conversations about feelings I hadn’t had a chance to even comprehend, let alone articulate. I still hadn’t decided what to do with Oakley and my past and our possible future. No matter which way I twisted things, Oakley and I having a future was feeling less and less like a possibility.
Oakley climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut before I could get to my feet. She went to the trunk to get the fingerprinting machine that had failed to work yet again. One downside to working in a small county was the lack of resources for things like machines that actually worked when out in the field. I met her at the back of the car, feeling like I owed her one hell of an explanation for how I’d been behaving.
“Are we going to talk, or are you just going to—”
“Wyatt?” A female voice squealed from behind me. I turned, dread snaking up my spine. I knew that voice well.
“Emmeline?”
My sister, younger than me by seven years, came sauntering across the parking lot, her towering wedges, low-cut summer dress, and wide-brimmed hat looking all kinds of out-of-place out here in the country. She had a wide smile on her face, her hands clasped below her chin as her huge suede bag—probably worth more than the cruiser we’d driven all day—swung off her shoulder.
“Itisyou! Oh my God, let me look at you.” She moved around me in a circle, faster than I could gather my thoughts.
Oakley stood off to the side, her head tilted, watching my sister like you would an exotic animal from the zoo. Emmeline stopped in front of me, cutting off Oakley, and peered up with her face all scrunched up.
“You’re so cute in your little uniform, bubby,” she cooed.
Jesus H. Christ. She was using the nickname she’d given me when she was a baby. I heard Oakley snort while my balls shriveled up. Damn, the poor bastards had been frozen and leeched of their manhood all in the span of one day.
“Em. This is my partner, Oakley.” I took my sister’s arm and tried to move her out of the way. She nearly went down in her ridiculous shoes, but I steadied her. “Oakley, this is my sister, Emmeline.”
Oakley’s smile turned more genuine, and she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Emmeline’s shoulders came up to her ears, and she bounced on her toes. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to meet a real live lady cop! You are adorable. And quite badass. I’m so impressed.”
She threw her hands out wide, and I cringed. Emmeline flung her arms around Oakley’s shoulders and squeezed her tight, rocking side to side before Oakley could push her off, which she did lightning quick. Emmeline almost went down again, but I kept her upright. I was used to that being my job. The girl never wore appropriate attire, and it fell to me, as her brother, to watch out for her. I wondered who took care of her lately, now that I wasn’t around.
Oakley eyed us both like we weren’t to be trusted. The woman always had good instincts. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
Em’s bottom lip rolled out, and I knew the epic pout was coming. “What kind of brother doesn’t talk about his favorite little sister, Wyatt Clifford?”
Oakley let out another snort, louder this time.
I cut her off with a bark. “Don’t.”
Oakley’s hand covered her mouth and if my balls hadn’t already shriveled to nothing, they’d have died a silent death now that Oakley knew my middle name.
“You’re my only sister, Em,” I pointed out.
She instantly brightened and poked me in the arm. “I know. Which is why I’m your favorite, silly.”
Em swung around to grab Oakley’s arms before I could think of a way to separate these two. I couldn’t handle any further humiliation. Things were tense enough between Oakley and me without inserting my little sister.
“Hey, sis…you got biceps! It’s just so good to meet a coworker of Wyatt’s.” She smiled, and despite the humiliation, my heart had a tender spot for this over-the-top, well-meaning sister of mine.
Emmeline dropped her hands from Oakley’s arms, which was a good thing because Oakley looked ready to do one of her kung fu maneuvers on her. As much as she irritated me, I didn’t want my sister hurt. Faster than a baby finding something to jam in their mouths, Em poked Oakley’s Taser on her duty belt.
