When the Dead Speak Bailey Bradford (books on motivation txt) 📖

running. “She was the only person who believed me when, as a child, I tried to explain that I could hear the dead speak. If she hadn’t been able to convince my parents not to follow the psychiatrist’s suggestion, I would have spent my teenage years, at the very least, in a psychiatric facility. Fortunately, Grandma was intimidating, and the fact that she held the purse strings didn’t hurt, either.” God, he just couldn’t shut the hell up. “She was good to me, believed me about all this.” Sev gestured with his other hand, finger twirling circles in the air.

“Was she the only one?”

Sev didn’t want to go there, but he didn’t want to argue, either—and he wanted to get out of the hospital. “Of the adults, yeah, but she was enough, she really was. My brothers and sisters don’t treat me like a freak.” Mostly.

A grunt was the only reply he got, along with a last, lingering brush of fingers against his skin. Those touches had chased away the residual chill from his body, though he still felt somewhat shaky.

Laine grabbed the bag with Sev’s clothes in it. He put on his Stetson and tossed the bag to Sev. “We’re out of here, Severo.”

“Sev.” He turned and winked at Laine. “I mean, all things considered, I think you can call me Sev, huh?”

Laine’s laugh was a barely audible huff. “Sure, Sev.”

* * * *

The more distance Laine put between them and the hospital, the more Sev seemed to relax. By the time they were on the outskirts of McKinton, he was sleeping, his head tipped down and thick, dark lashes resting on his cheek. Laine had bitten his cheek in the hospital to keep from asking Sev about his childhood. There’d been a reluctance in the man’s countenance, despite his nervous ramblings, that had intrigued Laine. That intrigue had been quickly quashed—there was no reason for him to delve into Sev’s history, was there?

Laine pulled into his driveway and left the truck running, hoping the rumble of the engine would let Sev continue sleeping while Laine studied the man. With his head down and those thick, dark lashes resting against his cheek, Sev looked incredibly sexy and innocent. Laine had no problem acknowledging the first, but the second he’d have to be a fool to believe. Everything about Sev seemed to scream fun and sex, and Laine had a feeling Sev was a firm believer in both.

This posed a problem for Laine, as he found himself inexplicably drawn to Sev, and Laine wasn’t exactly a sunshine and good time type of guy. He’d never indulged in one-night stands. In fact, what had happened between him and Sev this morning was, for Laine, out of character enough as to have him questioning his sanity all over again. And yet, he hadn’t hesitated to bring this tempting man home—

Sev grunted and blinked his eyes open, giving a slight start when he saw Laine. Sitting up straight, Sev looked around, stiffening somewhat when he saw the house. “Where am I, Sheriff?”

Laine tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips and hoped for the best, though he wasn’t sure if that would be Sev agreeing to stay or demanding to leave. “Brought you to my place.” He shrugged when Sev whipped his head around, mouth dropped open in shock. “Didn’t know what to do with you. I couldn’t take you back to the hotel, and leaving you with Brendon and Zeke is out, so…”

Sev looked at him like he was crazy. “And you don’t think this”—he waved his hand at Laine’s house—“is a bad idea at all? Jesus, you gotta be worried about what people will say.”

Laine bit down on his temper. Yes, he’d thought about what people would say, but when it came down to it, the fact was he wanted Sev here. He wasn’t going to examine the reasons why. “Are you planning on packing up and leaving?”

“No, I…” Sev cleared his throat and looked away. “I have to be here. Conner—”

“Then you’re staying here. The only people I would trust are Brendon and Zeke, and I won’t put them at risk of being frozen to death.” Laine’s heart clenched at the thought of Conner hurting anyone, but he’d seen it, hadn’t he? Had felt Sev’s icy skin. And he’d felt the awareness, the presence of Conner as surely as if the man had been standing there in the flesh. “Are you sure that was Conner? He wasn’t a cruel man, not at all. I don’t understand how dying would make him into something he wasn’t.”

Sev reached for Laine’s hand where it gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white with the force of his hold. “It was Conner, and I’ll explain it, but… Laine, you could lose your job, maybe even worse, if I stay here, you know that, right?”

Nodding, Laine couldn’t bring himself to look at Sev. He was too afraid Sev would see that Laine was more concerned with the immediate risk of losing his heart to a man who wouldn’t be sticking around.

“Are you sure you want to take that risk? Why would you take that risk? I don’t understand it.” Sev’s confusion permeated his voice.

“It’s my job to take care of everyone, keep them safe. I can’t see as how leaving you alone somewhere to be turned into a Popsicle is doing my job—” Laine’s explanation stuttered to a halt as Sev slid his hand up Laine’s arm and cupped Laine’s cheek. He tugged until Laine was forced to turn and look at him.

“What else, Sheriff Laine Stenley?” Sev studied him with those eyes Laine found so fascinating. “I don’t think you’re being honest here, and it’s screwing with my image of the honorable small-town sheriff I’ve always fantasized about.”

Laine took a deep, shaky breath, blew it out and did it again. He hadn’t counted on Sev calling his bluff, but then again, he didn’t really know the man, did he? Laine didn’t know how to play