Two to Tangle (A Tangle Valley Romance #2) - Melissa Brayden Page 0,110

you, though? Are you going to be okay? I could feel that tonight was hard on you.”

“I keep thinking things will get easier with time. That’s not happening. She doesn’t deserve it, but I can’t stop thinking about her, missing her.”

“Well, maybe there’s something to that.”

Gabriella balked. “No way. You saw them tonight, cuddly and cute.”

Madison shifted her weight and looked like she was debating whether to say something more. She opened her mouth and closed it again before finally going for it. “If you want my opinion, what we saw tonight was a show. Manufactured. Those two didn’t go together at all. Notice Ryan never really participated and kept stealing glances at you every other minute.” She shrugged. “For what it’s worth, anyway. ’Night, Gabs.” She turned and headed off down the path.

Gabriella watched after her, trying on what Madison had described to see how it fit, not sure it even mattered. The idea did make her feel a tiny bit better. She bit the inside of her lip, frustrated that the relief felt like a much-needed salve. If only it hadn’t eventually worn off, leaving her tossing and turning throughout what felt like a very long, very warm night. She’d thrown the covers off early that morning and wound up here on the porch, in the dark, nursing a now cold cup of tea.

She sighed and scrolled her phone to see what the rest of the world was up to. Her breath caught when a photo from the Biddies’ account showed Ryan in—wait, were those handcuffs? She scrolled back. At first, she thought it had to be a joke and scanned the caption which simply read, Uh-oh. She dove into the comments to learn it wasn’t a joke at all. Ryan had apparently gotten into it at the Scoot with some rando. What in the world? Worry hit. Then anger. Finally, unable and unwilling to sort through more of her warring feelings, she threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed the keys to her damn Jeep, and headed straight to the jail.

* * *

Jail was not that far off from what Ryan had seen on television. She’d started the night in a cell with three other women, two of whom were drunk as hell and one who stared silently at the wall. Then two hours later, Ryan was moved to a cell of her own where she’d spent the night leaning against the concrete wall, closing her eyes when she could. Had it not been so late, she’d have called Billy or her mom, but the idea of dragging either one of them out of bed to this kind of news hadn’t seemed like the kind thing to do. Plus, she had no idea how she would face her mother after this. Small-town scandals tended to linger. She expected a metaphorical smack to the back of her head in the form of a long lecture, probably with visual aids and finger wagging. She deserved it.

“Hey, Ryan, you’re sprung.” Austin Tyler, the twenty-four-year-old who used to occasionally crew for her before signing up for the police academy, opened the door to her cell. “Sorry about all this.”

“So you guys see the error of your ways? I was literally just trying to keep the guy from hurting my friend.” She was so tired it was almost hard to argue at this point.

“That’s not for me to decide,” he said. “But your bail’s been posted. You’re free to go after you sign some paperwork. The charges will be reviewed, and we’ll be in touch.”

“They’re gonna stick?”

“Between you and me? I doubt it. But your ride is just through those doors.”

Dammit. Her mother probably heard what happened and drove to the station in humiliation and anger. Guilt engulfed Ryan, heavy and thick. How much furniture could she make over the course of one weekend to make it up to her mom?

She followed Austin to the front of the police station, signed the necessary paperwork at the window, and turned. Gabriella faced her with her arms folded. She wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and a navy-blue hoodie that looked so soft Ryan wanted to collapse into it. Her hair was down with gentle waves past her shoulders, and after the night she’d had, Gabriella looked too good to be true. She also looked really, really angry.

“What are you doing here?” Ryan asked, bleary and wondering if she was hallucinating.

“You don’t get to ask the questions, Rocky. I posted bail, so