Page 33 of Sin With Me
“Yep, that’s me.” I tip my cowboy hat with my usual lopsided grin.
“Hey, I’m Molly. I was wonderin’ if I could get your number? Or I can give you mine?”
Her question takes me off guard because there were no signs she was interested in me that way. We’d talked a little, but there was no flirting, at least on my end.
“Unless you’re married, of course.” Her gaze falls to my left hand. “But I didn’t notice a ring.”
I lick my bottom lip, trying to figure out how to respond. The last thing I want to do is make her feel bad or ruin the rest of her vacation.
“Uh, no. Not married. But sorry, I don’t have time to date right now either.”
Unless she’s five-foot-five, blond, and responds to Delly. Then I’d make all the time in the world for her.
Right now, she’s currently blowing up my phone with messages—probably insisting she can’t go to dinner tonight for some bogus reason—but we have a strict no-phone policy whenwe’re with the guests. I’ll have to wait until I’m alone at the barn or in my truck to respond.
“Oh, because of the community service hours you have to do now?” she sasses.
I furrow my brows. How the hell does she know about that already? I only got out of court three hours ago. The small-town gossip mill is fast, but notthatfast.
“Excuse me?”
Her entire demeanor changes and she whips out a recorder. “Could I get a statement for The Creek Chronicles about your charges? Perhaps shine some light on how you continually get away with breakin’ the law?”
I step back, growing more pissed the longer she talks. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“This is you, right?” She taps on her phone screen a few times and then holds it up for me. There are a couple old photos of me looking drunk and stupid, with her name printed below the headline:
Power and Privilege Prevail: Wilder Hollis Avoids Serious Punishment After Assaulting Officer, Sparks Public Outcry About Sugarland Creek’s Popular Ranch & Equine Retreat
“You wrote this?” I grab her phone and scroll through the article. Paragraphs about the injustice from Judge Roberts about my “weak” punishment and how Officer Wesley Townsend is a victim who deserves justice. She even name drops Delilah as the witness who Wesley pulled over. Then it continues on about how my bad behavior and breaking the law are patterns and how I never have to pay any consequences. Itencourages the public to boycott the ranch and retreat unless I get fired since I have a criminal record and should be in jail.
As if that’s not bad enough, it praises Wesley as a heroic officer, but there’s nothing about him getting suspended for his multiple issues—while in uniform.
“This is fuckin’ bullshit.” I smack her phone into her palm. “Ain’t sayin’ shit to you.”
I walk in the other direction toward the barn.
“This is your chance to defend yourself…” She rushes to my side with the recorder in her grip. “Tell your side of the story.”
“You his girlfriend or somethin’?” Because I know she’s not his wife and only someone sleeping with him would believe a word that moron says.
“No, just a reporter after the truth.”
“Pfft. Yeah, right. He knew his ass was already on the line, so now he’s draggin’ mine even though he’s the one who started it.” I huff, shaking my head at the ridiculousness. “Call my lawyer if you need a statement. For now, get off my property.”
I nearly sprint to my truck so I can get the hell out of here. My parents are going to flip their shit when they read that.
“Wilder, wait!” She jumps on the running board and holds on to my door through the open window. I squeeze the shifter, ready to bolt. “Off the record…”
“What?” I grind out between my teeth, but I’m trying my damnedest to hold it together.
“Wesley’s hired me and others to run a smear campaign to ruin your name and plant doubt in people’s heads about supportin’ the retreat. If you don’t respond or share your version, he wins. And your family loses. Can you live with being the reason their business plummets?”
Fuck, she’s shady.
But Wesley knows where to hit me for the biggest impact. Screwing with me is one thing but bringing the retreat and myfamily into this is a low blow, and I’d love nothing more than to tell her about the true Wesley outside of the one the locals idolize.
However, one of the conditions of my parole was not talking to the press since Wesley’s an officer and also being investigated for whatever shit he’s been doing off the clock. So the fact he’s doing this to me is comical. He knows pointing the finger at me will keep the attention off him when he inevitably gets busted.
