Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

The sheriff had been a thorn in his side ever since that first visit, probing and questioning, always looking for something Joel couldn’t quite hide. By all rights, Dare Jensen wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He was well-respected and had earned his job as sheriff after serving several tours as a Marine. It made Joel hate him even more.

He’d covered his tracks well enough. The sheriff didn’t have proof of anything, or Joel would be staring at the inside of a cell right now instead of sitting here. And he wouldn’t miss this for the world.

He sat in his rental car, parked discreetly on a hill that overlooked the small, somber cemetery. The muted tones of gray and green blended into the overcast sky, creating a solemn backdrop for Tess’s funeral. From this distance, Joel could barely make out the faces of the mourners gathered around the freshly dug grave. But he didn’t need to see their faces to know who was there. His gaze had instantly been drawn to her familiar curves.

She stood near the grave, her shoulders hunched with grief. But that wasn’t what drew his attention. It was the man next to her. He wasn’t some chump she’d managed to sweet talk into helping her as he’d first assumed. No, the big man standing next to her was none other than Dare Jensen, the sheriff of Brookhaven.

This was a complication he hadn’t foreseen. Joel’s mouth twisted into a scowl. Fury rolled through him. It should be him down there next to Ainsley. She should have come back to him by now. Jealousy speared through him, hot and fierce, as Jensen wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest and bile crept up his throat as he watched her lean into Jensen, seeking comfort in his embrace. Ainsley’s head rested briefly against Dare’s shoulder, and a fresh wave of anger surged through Joel. He had once been the one she turned to for comfort, the one she leaned on when the world became too much. Seeing her now, finding solace in another man’s arms, was almost more than he could bear.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he watched them, the knife of betrayal twisting deeper in Joel’s gut. How dare that man touch her? How dare he think he could take Joel’s place?

Joel’s thoughts spiraled as he imagined them deep in conversation, cuddling on the couch sharing a bottle of wine. In his mind’s eye, he saw Ainsley confiding in Dare, opening her heart to him. He saw Dare comforting her, promising to protect her, taking her into his arms… and into his bed.

His stomach revolted. He couldn’t stand it. Ainsley was his. She had always been his, and she would always belong to him.

The other mourners slowly began to disperse, offering their condolences and quietly leaving the cemetery. Joel remained in his car, watching as Ainsley and Dare lingered by the grave. He saw the way Dare looked at her, the way his eyes softened with concern and compassion. It made Joel’s blood boil.

As the last of the mourners left, Dare and Ainsley turned to walk back to the parking lot. Dare kept his arm around her, and Ainsley didn’t pull away.

Rage coursed through him, and his hands clenched around the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white under the strain. He wanted to storm down there, tear Ainsley away from Dare and take her home where she belonged. But he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.

He needed to bide his time, find the right moment. He would get Ainsley back if it was the last thing he did. No one, especially not Sheriff Dare Jensen, would stand in his way.

For a moment, Joel fantasized about plunging the knife into the sheriff’s chest, just as he’d done to Tess. He would make Jensen beg and plead; he’d make him sorry for interfering.

Joel sighed, the daydream dissipating. He’d love to kill the man, but it would be far too risky. His death would raise far too many questions, especially after Ainsley disappeared, too.

As he started the car and drove away from the cemetery, Joel’s mind was already working, plotting his next move. Watching her with Dare had ignited a fire within him, a burning desire to reclaim what was his. And nothing, not even the law, would stand in his way.