Wyoming Cowboy Justice

Laurel frowned. “I don’t need your help, Grady. This is my job.”

“And if everything Clint says is true, that relative of yours was in some shady business that got him killed.”

Laurel’s frown deepened. She hated that he’d put that together, even if it was easy enough. Grady had good instincts, and she didn’t want to have to compliment him on them. Or anything.

“And, baby, you don’t know a thing about shady. But I do.”

“What are you going to do? Eavesdrop at the bar? Beat a few answers out of people? This is a police investigation.”

“I can be subtle.”

She barked out a laugh. “You’re as subtle as a Mack truck. One that nearly broke my nose.”

Grady quirked one of those smiles that, if she wasn’t careful, could make her believe there was some softness in this man. But that was utter insanity. Grady was and always had been the opposite of subtle or soft.

“I can listen. I can put out a few feelers. I can do it all without anyone raising an eyebrow. It’s the beauty of owning a saloon.”

“Bar,” Laurel muttered. But she didn’t get the rise out of Grady she expected.

“This is my brother we’re talking about, Laurel.”

Her first name. Not princess, not Delaney. Just her first name.

“Okay,” she said carefully, because even though she knew she shouldn’t let it get to her, it did. If the positions were reversed, if one of her siblings were in trouble... Well, she’d probably break a few laws. Who was she to think Grady couldn’t uphold a few to save his brother? And Bent. “But you’d have to promise me, really, honestly promise, that we do this my way. If there’s a murderer out there, I have to be able to build a case on him. One with evidence, and no questions as to the validity of that evidence. Or a murderer gets away.” She refused to entertain that thought, but Grady had to.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t smile or joke or do anything except nod. Then hold out his hand.

“You have my word.”

Laurel could not have predicted this turn of events in a million years. Working with a Carson... It was insane, and risky, but maybe if the town saw a Carson and a Delaney working together for the truth, they’d be able to find something of the same.

She took his outstretched hand and shook, firmly. “So. We’re in this together,” she said, because she couldn’t quite believe it.

“Only until my brother is cleared and to save Bent from another wave of feud crap.”

“I thought you believed in the feud wholeheartedly.”

“I believe in enemies. I believe in history. I believe in Delaneys mostly being so high on their horses they don’t see anything.”

Laurel tried to tug her hand away, but Grady held it in his, his large hand grasping hers tightly.

“I believe violence is sometimes the answer. Just like I can believe in the feud, the importance of that history, and think not all Delaneys are scum of the earth.” His mouth curved into that dangerous thing. Dangerous and feral and so completely the opposite of arousing.

She wished.

“But mostly, Deputy Delaney,” he said, holding firm on her hand and even tugging her closer. Close enough she could feel his breath mingle with hers, close enough she could see that the vibrant blue of his eyes matched the blue of the fall sky above them.

“I believe in Bent. And I believe you do, too. So, we’ll do this your way until we have the murderer behind bars.”

“And after that?”

“After that, I’ll go back to doing things my way, princess.” The curve of his mouth morphed into a full-blown grin. “So try not to fall in love with me.”

“Such a hardship,” she muttered, and when she gave one last tug of her hand and he didn’t let go, she let her temper take over a little bit. She moved quick and clean and managed to land an elbow to his stomach that had his grasp loosening enough for her to free herself.

“Next time you hold on to me like that, you’ll let me go the first time I pull away, or that elbow to the gut will be a knee to the balls.”

Grady made a considering noise. “I like that you plan on there being a next time I hold on to you like that. Desperate for another touch?”

“I don’t know how you’ll hear anything shady going on in that bar of yours over the infernal buzz of your outrageous ego.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

And the irritating part was, she was quite positive he would.

* * *

GRADY HAD CONSIDERED, for a moment or two, hauling her over his shoulder as payment for the elbow to the gut. Maybe he’d even slap that pretty ass of hers for good measure. It was a fantasy with some merit, but it would have to stay a fantasy.

He’d heard enough bedtime stories about a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old feud to know that Carsons and Delaneys getting mixed up in each other’s asses was never, ever a good thing.

Besides, he needed to focus on Clint, which meant figuring out this case. A lot faster than the police would. He got that Laurel had some of the same concerns he did, and he got and respected the fact she knew what she was doing.

But he didn’t have time for bureaucratic red tape, or following all leads. His goal wasn’t so much the truth as it was making sure his brother didn’t get wrapped up in this. Laurel could do her police work, focus on her job, and Grady could focus on Clint.

It made them something like the perfect team. Which made it something like amusing to follow her to her car and get in as a passenger. She tossed her bag in the back, and got into the driver’s seat as he stretched out in the passenger’s.

“Can’t say I’ve ever sat in the front seat of a cop car before.”

“And I’ve never been pushed into the back of one. Such different lives we’ve led,” she returned dryly, turning the keys in the ignition.

She drove away from the Delaney spread, a monstrosity of glitter and shine, the antithesis of what it should be in Grady’s estimation. You built a name for yourself, you ought to give some nod to the past platforms you built yourself on. But the Delaneys liked it slick and new. And if he was being honest, at least part of the appeal for the Carsons was finding joy in the old and patched-together.

“You guys really hire all your ranch work out?” Grady asked, more because he knew it would make her stiffen than because he didn’t know.

“Dylan helps some. Cam might when he comes home. Being a navy SEAL keeps him busy.”

Grady made a humming noise he knew would irritate her. “Seems a bit of a misnomer to call it the Delaney ranch, then.”

“If you insist,” she replied, and though she clearly tried to use cop tone on him, some of her snap crackled through.

Grady grinned. Laurel always gave a hell of a snap. “Where exactly are you planning on letting me out?”

“Rightful Claim,” she replied matter-of-factly as she maneuvered her neat, sparkling car down the winding road back toward the town’s heart.

“So, you’re going to drive through town, for all and sundry to see, and then drop me off at my bar to do the walk of shame?”

Her head whipped to his for a brief second before she returned her concentration to the road. “No one will think that.”