The Bridal Path: Ashley (18 page)

“I do,” he reminded her. “Your father all but adopted me a few years later after my own father threw up his hands in defeat. If it weren’t for Trent, I’d probably still be trying to prove something by causing trouble.”

“Will you tell me how that happened?” she asked as the spit-and-polish sheriff emerged from his office, his anxious sergeant right on his heels.

The ex-Marine strolled toward them with a hard, judgmental expression on his face for Dillon. It softened somewhat when his glance fell on Ashley.

“Miss Wilde,” he said courteously. “How’s your father?”

“Maybe you ought to be asking Dillon that,” she said deliberately. “He’s seen him more recently than I have.”

“Is that so?” he said, scowling at Dillon. “Why would that be? You rob him blind?”

“No, actually I stopped by to give him a check,” he said. “A return on his investment, so to speak.”

Ashley stared at him and tried to hide her amazement. Fortunately, the sheriff had plenty of questions of his own. She hoped at least one of them would get her the answers she craved.

“You’re telling me that Trent Wilde gave you money?” he asked. “What sort of con were you running?”

Ashley watched as Dillon visibly fought to control his temper. When she gave his hand a supportive squeeze, he shot her a grateful look.

“He didn’t give me anything,” he corrected in a reasonably calm tone. “He invested in my company.” He plucked a business card out of his pocket and handed it over. “Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

The tough, no-nonsense sheriff stared at the tiny card as if he’d been confronted with a rattler. “You work for Security-Wise?”

Ashley gaped at the mention of the security company’s name. She was very familiar with it. Discovering that Dillon was somehow affiliated with it was a real shocker.

Dillon’s expression, however, revealed nothing as he said blandly, “I see you’ve heard of it.”

“They handled security when that big movie was being shot outside of town last year. Those guys knew what they were doing, no doubt about that.” He regarded Dillon with skepticism. “And you work for them.”

“Look again,” Dillon suggested.

The sheriff’s gaze returned to the business card. This time his mouth dropped open, much as the receptionist’s had earlier. “Says here you’re the president.”

Dillon nodded. “That’s right. President and owner. I’m delighted you were impressed with the men I had working here. They were some of my best.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the sheriff said softly, echoing Ashley’s amazement, if not her rapidly escalating temper. “If you’d asked me years ago how you’d turn out, I wouldn’t have given two cents for the chances of you being out of prison by now.”

“Your high regard was excellent motivation,” Dillon said sarcastically. “But actually I owe the turnaround to Trent. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. All it took was a shove in the right direction.”

“I’m glad for you, boy. I truly am.” To his credit, the sheriff sounded genuinely sincere.

“Then you won’t mind if I decide to move back here and set up shop,” Dillon said. “I’ve been thinking of relocating my headquarters.”

Ashley stared, astonished. Why hadn’t he mentioned any of this to her? she wondered. Or was this an impulsive statement designed purely to jerk the sheriff’s chain?

“I’ve never had a problem with legitimate business,” Sheriff Pratt assured him. “Just monkey business.”

Dillon nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

He clasped Ashley’s hand a little more tightly in a gesture she guessed was meant entirely for the sheriff’s benefit. Given the cool reception he’d received, Ashley couldn’t entirely blame him for it, though she had a few things she personally planned to get straight with him the minute they were away from here.

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he said.

They were almost at the front door when he turned back, halting Ashley in her tracks.

“No hard feelings,” he said quietly to the sheriff.

For the first time the sheriff’s tight expression eased. “No hard feelings.”

“If you ever get tired of your job, I can always use a man with your understanding of the law,” Dillon said. A devilish glint lit his eyes as he added, “There are a lot of women in Hollywood who would just love having a man like you as a bodyguard.”

The sheriff blushed all the way to the roots of his close-cropped white hair. “I doubt if my wife would go along with that,” he said, chuckling. The genuine amusement transformed his face. “But thanks for offering just the same. I suppose I’ll go to my grave fantasizing about it.”

Outside, Ashley stopped, planted her hands on her hips and glared at the man beside her. “Dillon Ford, you have one heck of a lot of explaining to do.”

* * *

Making peace with Sheriff Pratt had taken every bit of nerve he possessed, Dillon concluded. Even so, he wasn’t sure that was half of what he’d need to make peace with Ashley. She looked mad enough to spit nails. He supposed she had a right.

No, he corrected, gauging the fury in her eyes. There was no supposing about it.

“You seem upset,” he said mildly.

“Oh, that’s not the half of it, Mr. President of Security-Wise,” she said. “Do you know I actually hired one of your people for a shoot last year after there were some threats from an obsessed fan?”

“I know,” he admitted blandly. “He really liked you. Said you were a doll.”

“He was old enough to be my grandfather.”

“He was fifty,” Dillon corrected. “And very, very skilled. Had you been hoping for a young stud?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” she muttered. “It’s just that if I’d known…”

“That I owned the company,” he supplied. “What? Would you have gone to somebody else for protection?”

“No. Everyone I asked, including my sneaky, traitorous father, said Security-Wise was the best. I feel as if you lied to me somehow.”

“That’s absurd. You and I never even talked.”

“Which is precisely my point. When the job came across your desk, you knew about it, right?”

He’d expected her to figure that out eventually, but that didn’t make admitting it any easier. “Of course,” he said reluctantly.

“Then you should have called.”

Pleased that she sounded so miffed, he grinned. “Oh? Why is that? To pamper you? Did you expect special attention given our past history?”

“Of course not.”

“What, then?”

“Didn’t you even care that I needed protection?”

“Of course, I did. That’s why I sent Milt. He’s the best in the business. Nobody gets past Milt.”

“And what about you? Does anybody get past you?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Then why would you assign someone else to a case you should have taken yourself? Or are you too important to go into the field anymore? Do you just sit back in your fancy office…” She glowered at him. “You do have a fancy office, I assume.”

“Very,” he agreed. “Plush carpet and leather. The penthouse suite of a very impressive skyscraper, in fact.”

“How lovely. So, do you just sit there staring out at the skyline and let other men do the dangerous stuff?”

“Not usually. I take my share of assignments.”

“Just not me,” she said, looking surprisingly hurt.

“If you’d listen for half a minute, I’d explain.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Would you please shut up?”

She scowled, but complied.

“Okay, the truth is, you needed somebody to be on the alert every second. I wasn’t so sure I could be objective around you. I probably would have had a very hard time keeping my mind on business,” he admitted. “The past few days ought to be proof enough that I was right.”

That silenced her for a minute.

“I suppose you have a point,” she finally conceded.

“I usually do.”

She frowned. “You are a very smug man.”

“Irritating, isn’t it?”

“Damned irritating.”

“Do you swear a lot?” he asked. “It’s not ladylike.”

She shot him a look of disgust. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, this from a man who by all rights should have gotten a drunk-driving record at fourteen.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that. You’ll never let me forget it, will you?”

“Does Mrs. Fawcett know? Is that why she won’t get anywhere near that motorcycle of yours?”

“I believe she may have been privy to the reason for my absence from school that day.” He winked at her. “She thinks I’m cute anyway.”

“What does cute have to do with anything?”

“It seems to matter to some women.”

“Well, I’m not one of them. I’ve spent ten years surrounded by cute, gorgeous, sexy men. I was not impressed.”

“Then it must be my charm you’re falling for.”

“Charm?” she repeated incredulously. “What charm? And who says I’m falling for you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that part is plain as day. The only real question now is what the dickens we’re going to do about it.”

Color rose in Ashley’s cheeks, but wisely, she didn’t argue with him. He figured she feared he’d prove his point with another breath-stealing kiss right there on the jailhouse steps. That would knock the socks right off Ms. Sergeant, who was no doubt peering out the window at them at this very moment.

As if to prove his point, he heard the sheriff bellow, “Taylor, get the hell away from that window and get back to work!”

Despite her expressed irritation with him, Ashley started to chuckle. “We do seem to be attracting a lot of attention today, don’t we?”

“Everybody’s no doubt trying to figure out what you’re doing with the town bad boy after you had the chance to nab yourself a prince.” He watched her closely. “What is the answer to that, by the way?”

“The prince was a bore,” she said succinctly. “And despite some very irritating flaws, you, Mr. Ford, have never been boring.”

“I work at that.”

Before Ashley could utter the retort that was obviously on the tip of her tongue, Dani came charging down the sidewalk, shirttail flapping, hair mussed and a beguiling smudge of flour on the tip of her nose. She skidded to a halt before them and addressed her sister with fire in her eyes.

“Ashley Wilde, how dare you come into town and not come by to see me?” She glanced at Dillon as if he was an afterthought, then studied him speculatively. “Hello, Dillon. How have you been?”

“Darlin’, if I were any better, I’d be sinful.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s feeling smug, for some reason.”

Dani grinned. “I’ll bet I can guess why. The rumor mill is rife with tales of the two of you. Now, quit lollygagging here on the sidewalk and march right on over to my house. You’re staying for dinner. I’ve already called Sara and Jake. They’ll be here in an hour.”

Dillon chuckled at Ashley’s instantly rebellious expression. “Have you always been this bossy?” he asked Dani.

“Always,” Ashley confirmed with an air of resignation. “We might as well give in graciously. She won’t rest until we’re fed and she’s pumped us for every bit of information she can about why we’re in town together.”

“I do not intend to pump you for information,” Dani said indignantly. “That wouldn’t be proper. Of course, a few polite questions may come up.” She winked at Dillon. “Just giving you fair warning.”

“You don’t scare me,” he said. “I remember when I put glue in your chair in the fifth grade and the teacher had to cut your skirt off so you could get free.”

Dani stared at him. “That was you?”

“You never guessed?”

Ashley groaned. “Oh, Dillon, you idiot. If she’d guessed, do you think you would have made it out of fifth grade alive? If I were you, I think I’d be very careful about what I ate at her house tonight. The Wildes were raised not to get mad. We just get even. We’re very inventive about it, too.”

“You’re inventive about a lot of things,” he observed in a way that had Ashley blushing and Dani choking back laughter. He could tell from the amusement in Dani’s eyes that the only way she intended to get even with him was to push her sister squarely into his arms. Obviously she figured that would be torment enough for any man.

Dillon realized with a sense of amazement that he wholeheartedly welcomed the prospect.

Chapter Thirteen

O
nce Dani had extracted a firm commitment that they would be at her house in time for dinner, Dillon linked hands once more with Ashley.

“We’re going to have to work fast if we’re going to turn this town on its ear before dinnertime,” he told her.

“I thought we’d already done that.”

“Not quite. We’ve just made peace with a few people. There are a few more places I’d like to visit for old times’ sake, places I always wished I’d been with you.”

Riverton wasn’t exactly known for its hot spots, but over the next hour Dillon and Ashley blazed a trail from one end of town to the other, thoroughly enjoying the shocked reactions. In fact, Dillon hadn’t had such a good time in years.

Few people in town knew anything at all about the man he’d become with Trent Wilde’s encouragement and help. Fewer still cared. Old images died hard. For the first time in years, though, it hardly mattered at all. He realized that, just as he’d been telling Ashley, the only thing that really mattered was what he thought of himself. He knew the kind of man he was.

When he and Ashley walked into the general store, old Mrs. Gates beamed at Ashley and stared hard at him as if trying to decide whether she needed to pull out a shotgun to protect the cash register.

When Ashley caught the woman’s behavior toward Dillon, she reacted with such indignation that it brought a smile to Dillon’s lips. Sweet heaven, but she was good for him. Despite the nagging doubts she expressed from time to time, he believed with everything in him that she trusted him instinctively. That gut-deep reaction was more important by far than all the reasoned assumptions someone else might make. Next to his faith in himself, hers was the most important.

And oh, how he wanted her. The fierce longing he had felt as a teenager had matured into a powerful need over the past week. The future that had once seemed so impossible glimmered now as a dream that was very much within reach. If he’d believed in love, he would have believed with all his heart this was it.