The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [251]
“I’ll sit in back,” she offered, hoping she sounded merely casual, not concerned.
Jordan narrowed his gaze on her. “You’ll ride up front. I want to talk to you.”
He appeared determined and unrelenting, so she looked past him to see the sheriff. “Excuse me,” she said, and Morgan Hudson turned his head to look at her, then lifted one black brow. “I’d prefer to ride in the back like any other criminal being arrested.”
Morgan opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when she yelped. Jordan’s hands were secure on her waist as he literally tossed her into the front seat and climbed in beside her too quickly for her to do anything about it. He looked at his brother and said, “Drive,” and with a slight, barely suppressed chuckle, the good sheriff did just that.
3
GEORGIA STEAMED she was so angry. At herself as much as at the two outrageous, oversized men. They’d driven a few minutes in silence when she finally couldn’t hold it in any longer and growled, “I don’t like you.”
Jordan started, evidently surprised that she’d spoken after being quiet for so long. And Morgan grinned. She’d already decided that the sheriff was either frowning or grinning—there wasn’t much middle ground.
“Which of us are you talking to?” Morgan asked.
She was just disgruntled enough to bark, “Both.” Unfortunately, Jordan seemed unfazed by her pique and Morgan was amused.
She was still pondering what to do and how to get everything done tonight when Jordan gave Morgan directions to her home, telling her without words that he was indeed familiar with the old farmhouse she’d bought.
But more important than that, she realized they were taking her straight home, rather than to the station.
“Excuse me,” she said, giving her attention to the sheriff while doing her best to ignore Jordan pressed up against her side, “but if you’re only going to take me home, why did I just leave my car at the bar? Do you realize what a nuisance this will be now for me to get it?”
Morgan shrugged. “Don’t worry about your car. We’ll take care of it in the morning. Isn’t that right, Jordan?”
Jordan made a noncommittal sound that she wasn’t interested in deciphering. “I don’t want you to take care of it!”
Jordan stared out his window. Morgan glanced at her, then back to the road. “Not much choice, now. There was a lot going on. I figured it’d be easier this way, rather than hassling with the arresting sheriff. He wanted you two taken off, so I took you off. And as to that, I suppose I should give you a ticket or something.” She watched the sheriff rub his thick neck, as if pondering a difficult predicament. “You see, the thing is, Jordan said you weren’t to blame and I’ve never known him to tell me a pickle. But I gotta say, I am curious as hell as to why you were picked up, why you were there in the first place, and why you’re dressed that way.”
He leaned around to see Jordan, and added, “And what the hell you’ve got to do with it.”
Though she knew the sheriff was only trying to distract her, Georgia stiffened. “He has nothing to do with me! But he did attempt to intervene…well, sort of…”
Jordan made another exasperated sound and interrupted. “I don’t need you to explain for me, Georgia.”
She shrugged, stung by his biting tone. “Fine.” Crossing her arms, she leaned back in the seat, silent again.
Morgan began to whistle. After a moment, he said thoughtfully, “I think I have it figured out.”
“Morgan,” Jordan said by way of warning.
“You’re a dancer at the bar, right?” At her stiff nod, he continued. “And Jordan here got a little too enthused over your…skill. Understandable. Although Jordan is a little slow on the uptake sometimes, at least where women are concerned—”
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
Georgia listened, fascinated despite herself.
“You see,” Morgan said in something of a whisper, leaning toward Georgia, “in the last few years my brothers and I have all tied the knot.