Temptation Trails (The Haven Brothers #3)

Usually I either packed a lunch or stopped at one of the restaurants downtown. But since we had leftovers at home, and Owen and I lived less than ten minutes from the sheriff’s office, I decided to run home and grab something. That was a benefit of small-town living, unlike the rampant gossip and nosy family members.

I finished the last part of my report and hit save.

“What’s up, slacker?” Kade Sheehan, one of my fellow deputies, paused next to the desk. Like me, he was in uniform—an army-green shirt and tan pants with his badge on the left side of his chest.

“Paperwork. What are you doing here? I thought you went home already.”

“Overtime.” He shrugged. “Got a call about ten minutes before my shift ended. Figured it wouldn’t take long. I was wrong about that.”

“I know what that’s like. I missed a date last night.”

“Oh, poor baby.” The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable. “Had to work past dinner on a day shift.”

My brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure where the snark was coming from. “Overtime on graveyard sucks, man. You should go home and get some rest.”

“Yeah, not everyone gets the luxury of a desk job.” He turned and walked off.

I watched him go, not quite sure what to make of him. He and I had started our careers at the same time, and, for a while, we’d been good friends. Years ago, I’d set him up with my sister Annika, but they hadn’t hit it off. She’d gone on to marry Levi Bailey, and Kade was married to a woman named Erin. There hadn’t been any hard feelings and he and I had stayed friends.

But lately, something was off. It was subtle, and if I hadn’t been in law enforcement for as long as I had, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. Kade had an edge to his voice, and he often seemed irritated—even angry.

Although maybe he was just cranky because he’d been on graveyard a lot lately. That could put anyone in a crappy mood.

I got up and left, nodding to a few people as I walked out. The early May weather was clear and warm. Nice time of year in the mountains. The snow had melted, the ensuing mud mostly dried, and the heat of summer hadn’t set in yet. Maybe I’d take Owen hiking this weekend. It had been a while since we’d done something fun together.

Since I wasn’t on patrol, I got in my personal car—a dark gray SUV I’d had for a few years—and headed home.

My house was on a quiet street, about a mile from my sister and brother-in-law, Annika and Levi, and my newly married brother Zachary and his wife, Marigold. Owen and I had lived there for several years and sometimes I wondered why I’d bought a house that was so big. It was a newer two-story, with four bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths, plus a three-car garage. We didn’t need that much space, but I’d gotten a good deal and it was a nice place to live.

I pulled into the driveway and parked, the sight of Owen’s bike leaning against the garage door making me furrow my brow. Hadn’t he ridden to school today? And if he’d walked, why was his bike outside?

I checked my phone, but the doorbell cam hadn’t registered anything. If Owen was home, he must have gone around to the back.

But he couldn’t have been home. He was supposed to be in school.

Maybe it was my instincts taking over, but I quietly stepped out of my car, as I would if approaching a crime in progress. I made my way to the front door—nothing out of the ordinary. Just the welcome sign my sister had given me as a housewarming gift when we’d moved in.

I unlocked the door and opened it—slowly. Stepped inside and shut it behind me without making a sound.

The house seemed empty. No noise.

I glanced toward the back of the house. From where I was standing, I could see the door to the backyard. Owen’s shoes were there, as if he’d kicked them off and left them where they lay.

Busted.

I crept forward from the entry toward the great room at the back of the house.

Owen sat on the couch, dressed in a blue hoodie and jeans, absently chewing something. He had a mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table, and it bothered me both that he wasn’t using a coaster—he always left drips—and that I’d come to a place in my life where I worried about things like using a coaster.

He’d always looked more like me than his mom. Same brown hair and blue eyes. Same nose and sharp jaw. As much as he’d grown in the last couple of years, all he needed was some more muscle and a bit of facial hair and he’d be my mini-me.

His phone was turned horizontally, and the way his eyes were glued to it probably meant he was playing that racing game he was so obsessed with.

I walked around to the front of the couch. He didn’t look up. Crossing my arms, I cleared my throat. Loudly.

His eyes met mine, widening in shock, and he spit crumbs all over the place.

“Why aren’t you in school?”