Page 5 of Beneath the Blue Moon

***Casey***

Thank God he’s okay. I glance back at him, fast

asleep in the back of the sheriff’s car. The sheriff. I shift my gaze to him,

and for the first time tonight, I really look at him. He’s tall—long

legs, broad shoulders, muscular arms. With every turn of the steering wheel, his

shirt sleeve pulls tight against his muscles. His skin is smooth and perfectly

tanned, his hair dark and wavy, and that square jawline could probably chisel

granite. Not bad for a small-town sheriff. He’s quiet, though—strong, silent

type? Or maybe he’s just uncomfortable. He looks uncomfortable. Probably had

better things to do tonight than drive me around town looking for Daddy. Oh,

well.

“I thought your name was Casey?” he asks.

“It is.”

“Your dad called you Katy.”

“Katy’s my mom,” I answer quietly, looking down at my hands

in my lap as I fight to control my emotions. “She died eight months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

No, it’s not. I’m dying inside. I want to run away and hide

from the world, but I can’t. I have responsibilities. Daddy is my priority, and

I can’t let anything get in the way of caring for him. Nothing.

Back at his office, the sheriff helps me get Daddy into my

Prius. Turning to him, I extend my hand. “Thank you, Sheriff McKenzie. I really

appreciate your help.”

He takes my hand, and my skin burns with a charge of

electricity. My insides quiver and my mind goes blank. I stare into his eyes—gorgeous

chocolate eyes that I would swear flashed yellow for just a second. They looked

almost canine. His long lashes, straight nose, and full lips complete quite a

handsome, over-six-feet package. Smiling at me, he reveals white, even teeth.

He seems to have traded the discomfort for a quiet air of sophistication and

confidence. He stands erect, shoulders squared, looking every bit like the man

in charge. I like this side of the sheriff.

“Ethan,” his voice snaps me back to the moment. “And don’t

mention it.”

His deputies walk up behind him, and I stare at all three in

awe.

“Miss Bryan, these are my deputies, Charlie Rowan and Brick

Castle.”

“Brick Castle?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

He smiles as he takes my hand. “Yeah… My folks have quite a

sense of humor.”

“Nice to meet you both, and thank you for your help,” I say

as I shake Charlie’s hand.

They tip their hats, and I look from left to right at all

three men. Brick and Charlie are about the same height, maybe two inches

shorter than the sheriff. They’re smaller, too, but still defined. Funny,

though—they all have the same eyes, tanned skin, and dark hair. They could

easily pass for brothers. Three scorching-hot brothers. Quite a threesome. Threesome,

hmm… Ugh, stop it! Now I know it’s been too long when thoughts like that

enter my head. I glance back at the sheriff. There’s just something about him, some

force emanating from him. Something formidable… dominant.

“I must say, if all the men around here look like you three,

it’s gonna be fun living in Canid.”

For that, I get three bashful smiles and three pairs of

averted eyes. How sweet. The men here are a far cry from the ones back home. My

phone vibrates, pulling me out of my haze, and I fish it from my pocket. It’s

my best friend, Sandra.

“Excuse me,” I tell the men.

“No, go ahead,” the sheriff replies.

I smile at him and push the call button. “Hey, Sandy.”

“I’m going crazy here, Case… Please, tell me you found him.”

“Yes, I found him. He’s fine.”

“Oh, thank God! Where was he?”

“Sitting on a park bench. I had the help of three very

handsome officers, though.”

“Three? Girl, save me one. Since you saw ’em first, I’ll

give you dibs.”

I glance over at them, and my eyes settle on the sheriff. Dibs.

“Deal. I’ll call you later when I get home.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hang up and give the men a grateful smile. They all look a

little flushed. I guess it was because of my handsome comment.

“Thank you again for your help, gentlemen.”

“No problem, Miss Bryan,” all three reply.

They even talk in sync. Wow. “Casey, please. Good night.”

“Good night, Casey.”

Again, in sync.

The sheriff walks me to my car and opens my door. Quite a

gentleman. I glance down at his left hand. No ring. We’re in business.

“Would you like me to escort you home?” he asks.

“I’m fine, but thanks for the offer.”

He nods in acceptance. “Drive safely.”

“I will. Y’all should stop by The Round-up sometime. Drinks

are on me.”

Waving good-bye, I hop in my car and drive away.