LITMIR.BIZ

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adorable until she opens her mouth. And boys don’t have those hormones affecting their emotions.”

      He chuckled. “It’s different, but I think the torment is the same.”

      Now she chuckled. He liked the sound. It was soft and genuine.

      “How long has it been since you left Honey Creek?” he asked.

      “Fifteen years.”

      That sparked his interest. “You were around when Mark Walsh was supposedly murdered.”

      “Yes. I remember that.”

      Some of the gossips said she’d slept with him, too. He saw her lips tighten and she adjusted her grip on the steering wheel, almost as if she were preparing herself for questions; or maybe she wondered if he thought what most others thought and didn’t like it.

      “When was the last time you saw him?” he asked, watching her.

      She gave him a warning glance. “Are you wondering if I knew where he went instead of dying like everybody thought?”

      “I’ll try anything if I think it might help me find his killer.”

      “The last time I saw him was at the post office with his wife, about a month before he died … or everyone thought he did.”

      “He never contacted you after that?”

      “No.” Her voice sounded sharper. She knew why he’d asked that question. The rumors. Could she blame him? He had no way of knowing unless he asked.

      Before he could explain that, she added in the same sharp tone, “And just for the record, I didn’t sleep with him.”

      He almost smiled at her defensiveness. He’d bet his badge that she was telling the truth. When some people lied, their defensiveness gave them away. But Lily’s was driven more by vulnerability. He wondered if she knew that about herself. that she protected her vulnerability with defensiveness.

      The way his interest kept intensifying the longer he spent with her made him check himself. He believed her about Walsh, but how much of the other rumors were true? There were a lot. He didn’t want to involve himself with a Jezebel. But if the talk was exaggerated.

      “Is it true you danced naked in front of the market on your twenty-fifth birthday?” he asked, making sure he sounded teasing.

      She gave him two quick looks as she drove, without smiling. “Trying to find out if all the gossip is true?”

      “What if I was?” He was serious now, because he really wanted her to tell him.

      “I’d want to know why.”

      “I think you know the answer to that.” He looked at her suggestively. He wasn’t asking in the capacity of sheriff.

      She concentrated on driving. He waited for her to reply, but she didn’t. Maybe she didn’t like it that he’d asked. Maybe she wondered if he was like many others in Honey Creek, buying all the talk. He never took rumors to heart, but right now he wanted the truth.

      “Aren’t you going to answer my question?”

      “Yes.”

      “Yes, you danced naked in front of the market?”

      “And I went sailing for two weeks with a man I met in Vegas. Two of his friends went with us. I jumped from airplanes. I went on a safari in Africa and survived a hurricane in Barbados. I raced dirt bikes. I got in fights with other women. I even tried mud-wrestling.” She stopped talking and he found himself absorbing everything she said. She’d left a couple of things out. “Oh, and I drank a lot of whiskey, smoked pot and broke up a couple of marriages.”

      Wes knew that one of the women whose husband she’d taken was still angry and not at all happy she was back in town. “The quilting group had a lot of fun with the sailing thing,” he said. And the rumors were X-rated.

      Lily rolled her eyes. “I heard about that group.”

      “Quilting’s just their excuse.”

      He liked how that made her smile. But she didn’t say any more.

      “Not going to comment on the sailing thing, huh?”

      “What do you want me to say? It’s all true. Is that what you want to know? Is that why you’re asking me all these questions? Yes, I went sailing with three men.”

      He stared at her. The rumors hadn’t been kind. She’d gone sailing with three men and had sex with all of them. More than once.

      She looked over at him, her expression matter-of-fact. She wasn’t denying anything, nor did she appear ashamed. But he was pretty sure that was a cover-up. She wasn’t proud of her early adulthood.

      “How did the quilting group find out about that?” he asked.

      “I was friends with your sister Maisie back then.” She sent him a challenging look.

      His older sister could get a little overbearing sometimes. “She does love a good tabloid tale.”

      “She tried to turn me into one.”

      “Sorry, but she didn’t have to try very hard.”

      “I’ve changed since then,” she said, sobering.

      “I’m starting to see that,” he said, making sure she saw he meant it.

      Soft satisfaction made her eyes glow warmly and she resumed her concentration on driving.

      “Why did you do it?” he asked.

      “What? Behave that way?”

      “Yes.” He didn’t want to hear any more about her sailing trip.

      “You didn’t grow up in my household.”

      Her father was a minister and her mother didn’t work. “Too strict?”

      “Strict. Judgmental. Relentless. Yeah. Nothing I did was good enough. So I thought it’d be neat if I showed them what bad really was.”

      He heard the regret in the form of sarcasm in her tone. “You wish you hadn’t done the things you’ve done?”

      “Not everything. The safari was a great experience. So was rock-climbing and jumping from planes and even sailing, except for the company I had.”

      Her hands adjusted on the wheel again, and now she seemed to be getting upset. He didn’t want to upset her, especially since he was enjoying this, and her. He didn’t question her further.

      Looking ahead, he noticed they were almost at the outskirts of town.

      “Will you just drop me off at the sheriff’s office? I have a Jeep I use for work there. I can drive that until I take care of my SUV.”

      “Sure.” A few minutes later, she pulled to a stop in front of his small office, a redbrick building with white trim and a sign that said Honey Creek County Sheriff.

      “It’ll be interesting explaining this to my deputies,” he said, more to keep her from leaving before he could ask her out on a date.

      “If any rumors start that I had a tryst in Deer Lodge, I’ll know where it started.” She smiled, but he could tell she didn’t want that to happen.

      “No deputy of mine would do that, and I certainly wouldn’t. I’ll just stick with the truth … I met this beautiful woman at Montana State Prison….”

      She started laughing. Once again, the sound reached into him, this time strumming a stronger infatuation.

      “Yeah, that would stir up a few questions.” She grew somber as she said it.

      “Nobody needs to know we met there. I’ll just tell them you totaled my SUV.”

      He loved the flirtatious glint in

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