Chapter 2

Chapter Two

NEIL

I'd almost kissed Connor.

I'd almost grabbed him and lost myself in a passionate kiss right there in the middle of town, crossing that final bridge between attraction and lust all because I was angrier than I'd ever been. He'd pushed me too damn far.

The tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed wannabe Superman had been a thorn in my side since he'd rolled into town. The first time, he'd visited as a PI on the hunt for people who didn't want to be found. Then he'd come back, the next time working for our resident millionaire, Quinn. What was supposed to be a temporary stay had become a permanent fixture, much to my constant frustration, because he was chaos one moment and icy focus the next, and I didn't know where I stood when I was with him.

I lacked control in everything to do with Connor Mason, and I hated it.

He was everywhere, getting involved with everything, from minor disputes to major incidents, and it seemed like every time I arrived at a scene, there he was, getting in the way. His intentions might have been good, trying to fix things and watch out for Quinn, but this was a quiet town with little crime, and his execution often left much to be desired. He was Rambo when situations called for diplomacy and a softer touch.

He was my nemesis in every possible way. Whenever I tried to handle a situation, he acted as if he were still on a mission in some foreign theater of war. He couldn't let me do my job, often making things more complicated than they needed to be.

No, I didn't need to arrest the kids who'd defaced the grocery store wall. I needed to work with families, the community, and their schools to develop plans to stop the defacing of private property.

No, I didn't need to go in guns blazing to the shack on the far reaches of Lennox property when I knew from checking that it was just old man Browne who liked to spend weeks in isolation up there.

No, I had no grounds to take away Abraham Wild's rifle—unassailable rights and all—unless I had actual grounds and witnesses.

Connor didn't know Whisper Ridge like I did.

When the town faced a problem, he would dive in headfirst, sometimes without fully understanding the local dynamics or the best approach. It was maddening—his relentless need to fix things that didn't need touching, his inability to stand down when it wasn't his place, and my being stuck between upholding the law and managing the chaos he so often brought with him.

"Fuck," I cursed loudly, kicking the fence. I compressed all my anger and lack of self-control into a small ball I could manage, breathing through the frustration.

And the lust.

It was infuriating to feel this way about someone who constantly got in my way and messed things up for law enforcement. The man was exasperating, yet the thought of him consumed me.

Touching him.

Kissing him.

More.

Lusting after Connor was a betrayal of my principles, a maddening twist of fate that left me questioning my judgment. How could I want someone who made my job more difficult, threw everything into disarray, and thought heading in with metaphorical guns blazing was always the right decision? I had a constant battle between my responsibilities as sheriff and the undeniable attraction simmering beneath the surface. Each encounter with Connor was a struggle to maintain control, focus on the job, and not act on the heat that flared whenever he was near.

Did I want him because he caused chaos?

Did I admire him?

"I don't want to kiss him!" I added to the fence and then steeled myself to go inside.

My phone vibrated, and I yanked it out of my pocket—Mom.

"Is everything okay?" I answered instead of exchanging pleasantries.

Mom wasn't the best at calling, more of a face-to-face talker, and I'd already checked on her and Dad when the storm started. Their house was sheltered, and last I knew, they were hunkering down for the night and taking things easy.

"Your dad…" she began. "Can you come?"

"What happened?"

"He's in the yard and…" Mom sniffed, and I could hear the tears in her voice. "I tried, Neil. I'm so sorry."

"I'll be there in five," I confirmed, then drove to them through the rain, reaching my parents' place in less than five minutes.

The rain fell in sheets, and thunder rolled in the distance as I parked and then vaulted the small fence surrounding the property and went into the backyard. Dad was easy to spot in nothing more than pajamas, soaked to the bone, talking to the empty air. My heart sank as I slowed and sauntered over to him as if this were nothing out of the ordinary, taking off my coat and covering him up, the cold rain soaking my uniform instantly.

"Dad?" I shouted, trying to be heard over the storm.

He didn't notice me or the coat over his shoulders, continuing to ramble.

"It was thundering, and I didn't know what to do," he said, trembling. "The lights went out, and everything was so dark. I couldn't see… I couldn't see anything."

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dad, it's okay. Let's get you inside."

He looked at me, confused, as if seeing me for the first time. "Neil? Why are you here? Why are you all wet? Where is your coat? Idiot boy!"

"We need to get inside," I said, gently .

He resisted for a moment, his eyes searching the stormy sky. "But the lights … the lights went out."

"We'll take care of the lights once we get inside, okay? Come on, let's go in," I said, leading him back towards the house.

Mom met us at the door, her expression a mix of worry and relief. Together, we managed to get Dad into dry clothes and settled in front of the TV. He blinked at the screen, the confusion leaving his eyes as an old rerun of M*A*S*H played.

I sat next to him, trying to steady my racing heart. "Is this the one where Hawkeye and Trapper sneak a jeep into the camp?" I asked, hoping to anchor him with a familiar memory.

He stared at the screen, then back at me, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I don't remember," he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.

My chest tightened, but I forced a smile. "That's okay, Dad. It's a good one, though."

"Why are you wet, Neil?" he asked again, glancing at me with genuine bewilderment.

"Got caught in the rain, Dad. It's all good now," I replied, squeezing his shoulder. I headed upstairs, swapped out the wet uniform for a spare one I'd left at their house in my old room, bundled up the wet one for laundering back at mine, and then headed downstairs.

Mom and I exchanged a glance, locking the doors to prevent any more nighttime wanderings. "I meant to lock the back door," she said.

"I know, Mom. "

"Thank you, Neil," she whispered, her eyes reflecting her gratitude and exhaustion.

I nodded, giving her a quick hug. "Call me if you need anything."

As I drove back to the office, my mind was split between the storm outside, the chaos at home, the unknown waiting for me at work, and Connor. I still couldn't forget Connor.

It was going to be another long night.

As I walked into the sheriff's office, Solomon was waiting with a pinched expression, and I was getting a headache. Solomon Wild had been with the department longer than I'd been alive, even working with my dad when he was sheriff. He was a good, honest, hardworking guy, but he was also Abraham's brother, which complicated all the family dynamics.

If only Connor had left things alone.

I was dealing with it all and had the situation under control. I'd spoken to Abraham's wife. I was working with the family, putting things in place to help Abraham look for work and getting him to see a counselor, and then Connor had to get involved.

Connor was protecting Lucy Wild, stepping up for her against a husband shouting at her. Drunk. Dangerous.

Connor was trying to be a hero.

"Evening, sheriff," Solomon greeted, his voice heavy with concern.

"Evening, Solomon," I replied. "Reports on the storm?"

"Two trees blocking the corner of Elm and Aston, minor flooding, and Emmet Carson's car is stuck in the middle of Locust Tree brook after flash flooding. Wyatt's on scene with Engine 11. Lewis is cut off from town after the creek broke its banks, but he's making his way in as best he can, only it will be a while."

"Tell Lewis to take care getting around the mountain." My senior deputy was only a short while from retirement, and the last thing I wanted was for him to get washed away.

"Will do. He says not to worry. Uhmm… We've had reports of rumbling on the west side, possible landslide. That's it for the storm." He took a deep breath, and I braced myself for the rest of what I knew was coming. The connection to Abraham through my dispatcher made everything so complicated. It was a tightrope walk between duty and personal ties, wearing on both of us.

Solomon didn't waste any time. "I heard about the latest incident with Abraham," he said in a low voice. "I wanted to reassure you that Lucy's fine, and she wants to thank Connor for stepping in. Abraham won't be pressing charges."

"Connor's an idiot," I muttered.

"That's as may be, but Abe isn't doing so well, and he knows he crossed a line. He's sobering up, and I'll check in on him later tonight. Lucy's at ours, and my wife is looking after her." He said all this in a rush, his embarrassment and anger evident.

I nodded, and relief washed over me. Lucy and Abraham married forty years ago and had two grown kids who had moved away. I'd never had any trouble with that family until Abe had lost his job, hit the bottle hard, and then had a DUI, which I'd had to pull him up on. His life had spiraled, and he needed to get his pride back and be in control. "I'm glad to hear that."

Solomon shook his head, frustration etched into his features and his eyes filled with sorrow and determination. Then he got all concerned. "And your dad? Your mom called here first."

"He's okay," was all I would give him, and I changed the subject. "So, talking of Emmett and his car, he said he had part-time work at the garage and thought Abe might be a good match."

"He sure would."

"Okay, I want to speak to Lucy tomorrow. I'll visit her at your house. Get Abe to come in and make a statement." I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes briefly, my headache worsening.

Solomon rifled in his desk drawer and handed me Tylenol and a bottle of water. I swallowed the pills, hoping they worked fast. I needed a miracle to clear my head because this storm was fierce, running through town, trapped behind the mountain, leaving chaos in its wake, and I was over it already.

With a final nod, I headed to my office, my mind still swirling with the night's events. The storm outside seemed a fitting backdrop for the disorder inside. Connor's words echoed in my head, his frustration and anger mingling with mine. The town of Whisper Ridge was my responsibility. With the cost-of-living crisis hitting town, local politics, developers pricing out locals for housing, and the recent scandal involving Pastor McKenna, plus a new deputy, I felt as if I was holding my life and career together with sheer willpower alone .

Then there was Connor.

Sitting at my desk, I couldn't help but think about the man and his determination to protect, his stubbornness, his … everything. He was infuriating, but he also had a point. Sometimes, the system wasn't enough. Sometimes, you had to take matters into your own hands.

But I had to find a balance. Even when it seemed impossible, I had to be the law in this town. I also had to deal with my feelings for Connor and our unresolved tension.

For now, though, I needed to focus on keeping Whisper Ridge safe, one storm at a time.