A SEAL's Salvation. Tawny Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ he considered both worth whatever price he was about to pay.

      Teeth clenched, he eyed the shotgun. It was gonna be one helluva price, too.

      “I’m gonna kick your ass,” Sheriff Reilly growled, fury radiating off the guy in waves.

      Brody braced, feet planted firm and fists loose at his side. His body was wired tight, ready to dive to either side. He’d spent most of his life facing one attack or another. He figured at least he’d earned this one.

      He didn’t wait long. The sheriff was on him in a flash. The guy was a lot faster, and in better shape, than Brody’s old man. They flew backward, trapping Brody against the wall right next to where Genna had stripped down and blown his mind.

      “Daddy!” Genna jumped forward, grabbing on to her father’s arm and tugging. She was a tall girl, but as slight as a wish and no match for her muscular father when he shook her off. She fell backward, stumbling over Brody’s bike and sending the Harley crashing to the floor. It barely slowed her down, though. She was back and grabbing on her father, tugging and demanding that he let Brody go.

      Apparently unable to effectively threaten and deal with his daughter at the same time, the sheriff spun with a roar, grabbed his daughter by the shoulder, swept the shotgun off the floor where he’d thrown it before his dive. He shoved Genna toward the door.

      “Get the hell in the car, Genna Yvonne. Now. I’ll deal with you later.”

      “You’re not going to hurt Brody. You can’t. He didn’t do anything.” Tears soaked her cheeks, but Genna didn’t budge from her position between her father and Brody.

      “Don’t you dare tell me what I’m going to do,” her father growled, his face contorted in fury.

      The cop raised his fist in the same move he’d pulled on Brody. Would he follow through? Rumor was that Genna was a pampered princess. Joe would have gladly outed his old man if the guy hit her.

      Still...

      “Don’t.”

      That’s all Brody said. He wasn’t getting in the middle of family drama. He’d spent enough time in his own to know that bystanders were safer on the sidelines, and participants never appreciated interference. But he’d be damned if the guy was gonna get violent with Genna. Not in front of Brody, not later in private, not ever.

      “Shut your mouth and sit down, Lane,” the sheriff barked, confirming Brody’s take on bystander interference. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

      “There’s nothing to deal with. I didn’t break any laws, you have no reasonable cause to be here and this is private property,” Brody pointed out quietly.

      “You were in here with my daughter.”

      “When did a kiss become illegal?”

      “When she’s my daughter,” Reilly growled, lunging again. Brody grimaced, knowing this time the guy was going for more than intimidation.

      “Daddy! Stop or I’ll call 911.”

      Genna’s horrified cry was like a bucket of water over the man’s head. It only took a blink for the rage to clear from his eyes and the cop-face to fall back into place. Brody didn’t take a lot of comfort from that. He’d been kicked around plenty by cops wearing that same neutral look. But he wasn’t worried about getting shot any longer.

      “You touched my daughter.”

      Expressionless, Brody returned the dead-eyed stare, but didn’t say anything. Why bother? The sheriff had walked in on them together. Lying was pointless and admitting it was probably admissible in the ass-kicking court the guy was convening.

      The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up to the point that even Brody was shifting uncomfortably. He hated inaction. Kick his ass or get the hell out already. He managed—barely—to keep that suggestion to himself, though.

      Finally, Reilly gave a grunt. He shouldered the shotgun, took his cuffs from his belt and gestured with his chin for Brody to turn around.

      “You arresting me?”

      Reilly’s gaze shifted from Brody to Genna, then to the bottle of beer on the workbench.

      “We’ll discuss it.” He lifted his hands, the cuffs dangling from one finger. “Turn around.”

      More intimidation. He had nothing. The beer was warm enough by now that it could have been Brian’s, left there before the old man had gone to work his shift in the bar. Getting hot and heavy with Genna was stupid, but not a criminal offense. Fine. Brody sighed, then turned around. Let the guy cuff him and play hard-ass.

      “Dad—”

      “You say another word and it’ll be on his tab,” Reilly warned Genna, his icy glare making it clear the bill was already more than Brody could afford.

      Whatever.

      “Let it go,” Brody murmured. Not that he expected her to take his advice. Hell, they didn’t even know each other. But there was no point in her making it worse for either of them. Let it go and move on, was Brody’s motto.

      “I’ll be right back,” the man promised, giving the cuffs a smack that ricocheted painfully through Brody’s arms.

      “I’ll be here.”

      Shifting his shoulders, trying to find an angle that didn’t hurt like a son of a bitch since the guy had hooked the cuffs around the steel grip on a huge toolbox. To, what? Keep him from running away? Brody silently cussed up a storm and watched Reilly drag his daughter out of the garage.

      The last sight Brody had of Genna was the tear-filled apology in those big blue eyes.

      Damn, she was pretty.

      He should regret it.

      She wasn’t his type, and she came with an insanely high price tag.

      But the sweet taste of Genna was still on his lips. His fingers still tingled with the memory of her silky skin, the soft weight of her hair. Yeah. She was a mistake. But, even as he shifted again trying to ease the pressure on his shoulders, he couldn’t regret making it.

      “Took your time,” he snapped when Sheriff Reilly sauntered back into the garage. Thankfully without the shotgun this time. He didn’t look any happier, though.

      “You in a hurry?”

      “I have things to do.” More importantly, he’d like to get this over before the old man was off shift. Nothing pissed him off more than hearing Brody had been in yet another scrape with the law.

      “You’re gonna have to reschedule.”

      “Why? You’re seriously hauling me in?” Brody wanted to laugh. Another black mark on his record wasn’t going hurt, but it was gonna irritate. Worse, it was going to disappoint his gramma. And he’d been trying hard the last few years to stop doing that. Irene Lane had this crazy belief that Brody could build a good life. Could be the kind of guy she could tell her friends about, could brag on and be proud of.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ