Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Beau Elliott wiped the soot from his hands, a grim sense of satisfaction settling in as the last of the smoke curled up from the charred remnants of the barn. The fire was out, the barn was a loss, and his work here, at least for now, was done.

He gave one last glance toward the group of ranch workers huddled near the fence, their faces lined with exhaustion and worry. He could tell they weren’t sure what to make of the situation, but it didn’t matter to him. This was the job—the fire was out, the horses were safe, and that was all that really mattered.

Walking toward his car, Beau felt the familiar weight of a job well done, one of those rare moments where he knew his experience had guided the team through a dangerous situation, no fanfare required. It could have been a hell of a lot worse, but it was in and out—just the way he liked it.

He opened the passenger door of the sheriff’s truck when a sharp voice cut through the air, bringing him to an abrupt halt.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Beau turned slowly, already feeling the irritation rising in his chest. Of course, it would be her. Of all the people who could’ve shown up to interfere, it had to be the one who made his blood boil in ways he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

Abbie Carter stalked toward him and came to stand with one hand on the pickup door, the other on her hip, eyes flashing with an intensity that made the heat of the fire seem like nothing. He ran his gaze over her, not for the first time, taking in the sweat-drenched face, her ponytail loose and messy from the chaos. Even covered in grime, there was something about her that stood out. Something that got under his skin. That was both very, very good and very, very bad.

“I asked you a question. Where are you going?” It didn’t make him any happier to hear it the second time.

“No, actually you asked me where the hell did I think I was going. I know where I’m going. I’m heading back to town,” Beau replied, his voice low, a hint of exasperation threading through the words. “The fire’s out. The barn’s a goner. Nothing more to do here except maybe call your insurance company.”

Abbie’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, her lips tightened into a hard line. “That’s it?” she snapped, disbelief clear in her tone. “You’re just going to leave?”

Beau arched an eyebrow, a little surprised by her bluntness. There was something about the way she confronted him—head-on, without hesitation—that made his pulse quicken, but also set his teeth on edge. He wasn’t used to his decisions being challenged, if you didn’t count the new chief, especially by someone not even in law enforcement. What the hell did she know about being a detective?

“Where else do you think I should be going, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He noticed the slight flinch in her eyes at the word, and a small part of him couldn’t help but enjoy the effect it had on her. There was something incredibly satisfying about ruffling her feathers.

“I would assume,” she bit out, her voice like ice, “you would hang around long enough to do your damn job. Aren’t you a detective? Aren’t you supposed to be investigating how this happened? Asking questions? Figuring out how the fire started? Isn’t there some kind of procedure you’re supposed to be following instead of whatever this is you’re doing?”

Beau’s stomach tightened, his jaw set. He wasn’t used to being talked to like this. Not even by Janet. But something about Abbie, her fire, her boldness—she both frustrated him and intrigued him.

Most of the women he was used to flirted their way around authority either trying to get out of trouble or get into trouble. Either way, they attempted to use charm as their weapon. But this woman didn’t bother with charm. She had a sharp edge and didn’t hesitate to use it.

He stepped back out of the doorway of the pickup and turned to face her. His movement forced her to take a step back and he could admit it gave him a certain amount of satisfaction to watch her retreat. “Just to be clear, Miss Carter, I don’t owe you a step-by-step explanation of my decisions on how I do my job, but just so you can sleep tonight,” his gaze dropped to her boots and he cut a deliberate path up her body halting a half second on her full lips before slowly capturing her angry stare, “I promise, I’ll come back as soon as I can,” his voice low and filled with sexual innuendos.

When her eyes rounded in shock and then quickly squinted in retribution, he knew he’d hit the mark. But he wasn’t worried so he kept going. “And just to keep that curious little head of yours satisfied, the barn is a pile of red-hot embers at the moment. Not one fireman or cop or investigator can get close enough to examine the evidence today. And, unless the fire department’s investigator thinks arson’s involved, my services won’t be needed.” He reached up and pulled the door from her grasp. “And as far as procedures go, well... they’re for the inexperienced.”

“Or a professional who cut corners,” she shot back, stepping even closer now, the heat of her anger sizzling between them.

Beau’s breath caught, his annoyance mixing with something he did not want to feel. So, he pushed for a fight. He gave a small, humorless laugh. “First of all, I don’t cut corners,” he said, his voice steady but edged with challenge. “Do I think and act outside the box? Ah, yeah, I do. That’s the reason I usually catch the bad guy. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head back to my place and get settled in. That is if that’s all right with you, Miss Carter .” If he’d hoped she’d go toe to toe with him, he was not disappointed.

Her eyes flashed with something dangerous and he didn’t even try to hide his grin. “If you mean thinking outside the box means you’re ad-libbing as you go, then no, it’s not all right with me. How exactly are you going to find the culprit who set the barn on fire?”

Beau couldn’t resist the smirk that tugged at his lips. She was persistent, he’d give her that. And as much as he hated it, that persistence was starting to make him a little—interested.

“First of all, we don’t know this fire was due to arson. There’s a hundred reasons an old structure like that could’ve caught fire,” Beau replied smoothly. “And second, what you’re calling ‘ad-libbing’ is actually experience at play. Something you’d know if you weren’t so busy with your nose in a rule book.”

“I call bullshit, Detective,” Abbie retorted, stepping closer, and this time Beau felt the electric tension of her presence in places he had no business feeling anything for this hot shot know-it-all female. Her words were sharp and pointed and she didn’t hesitate to stab him with them, but the way she stood, the way her eyes burned with challenge—it was like an electric ignitor trying to set off a pile of gas-soaked wood. That much combustion couldn’t be ignored.

“You’ve got a hell of a mouth on you, you know that?” Beau said, his voice low and thick as something he could no longer classify as irritation started to creep in. Something he wasn’t entirely ready to admit he was even interested in.

The woman didn’t flinch. Instead, she met his gaze head-on. Unblinking. Stubborn. Her intensity was enough to make him want to shake some sense into her—and maybe kiss her at the same time. She was all sharp edges and fire, and damn, if it didn’t make him want to get burned.

“And you’ve got a hell of a nerve,” she shot back. “You’re a detective. You’re supposed to care about things like this. You’re supposed to care about people like my grampa and the losses they?—”

“I do care,” Beau interrupted, stepping even closer to her now, his body almost touching hers. The air between them was so thick, it was almost suffocating. “I care about a whole lot of things that you aren’t privy to know about. Just because I’m not obeying your demands, doesn’t mean I don’t care, Miss Carter .”

For a heartbeat, she didn’t say anything. Her breath hitched just slightly, and Beau couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze flickered to his lips. It was like a jolt of electricity passed between them. He felt it, and judging by the way her chest rose and fell in a quickened rhythm, she felt it too. The tension, the pull, the heat, it was undeniable.

“I’m just asking you to do your job, Detective,” she said finally, her voice softer, but no less determined.

Beau narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a smile that felt a little too sharp. “And what exactly have you determined my job to be, ma’am?”

Abbie glared at him, but there was something in her expression that betrayed her. Something too close to what Beau had been feeling all along—something that made him want to see just how far this would go.

Before he could say anything more, Abbie turned on her heel, her jaw clenched in locked irritation, and marched toward the group of firefighters. Beau couldn’t help but watch her go, his eyes lingering on the way she moved—stiff and angry, but undeniably alluring.

“Quite the firecracker,” Sheriff McMasters muttered beside him, making Beau jump slightly. He hadn’t even heard the man approach.

“Yeah, quite the wildfire, for sure,” Beau agreed, a half-smile tugging on his lips.

“Do you think it’s time to call her off the help?” McMasters asked with a chuckle, watching Abbie with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Probably,” Beau muttered. “I was just waiting until she lets off steam a bit.”

McMasters laughed under his breath. “I’ve learned that lesson the hard way myself. Can’t be too careful around a woman with a head of steam.” Beau laughed at the sheriff’s comment.

Abbie spun around, storming back toward them, her eyes fiery with anger. “Excuse me?” she snapped. “Do you find this situation funny?”

Beau raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not even the messenger,” he joked, but when she glared at him, he shrugged and nodded his head toward the sheriff.

He kept his distance because he knew what he was about to say next would send her to the moon and she might be tempted to remove his head. But he had to admit, he loved pushing this woman’s buttons.

“Look, sweetheart,” he was certain her eyeballs were going to explode at that comment, but she kept her control, so he kept digging, “maybe your time would be better used at baking a pie or something. You really should leave the professionals to ask the questions.” And then he added the blow he knew would make her lose her shit. “Now, run along, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll buy you something pretty.”

Her fingers twitched and her face was an unusual color of red. Beau braced himself. She was about to explode, and he couldn’t decide if he was ready for it or if he wanted to push her even further. Either way, he was gonna enjoy this.