Page 10 of Paws and Claws (Saltwater Grove Romances #4)

10

TABITHA

T abitha slipped out of the bar behind Dominic. The summer night air hit her face, a welcome relief from the stuffy bar atmosphere, but it did little to calm her nerves.

"My place isn't far," Dominic said, his jaw tight. "We need to talk this through somewhere private."

Her stomach did a little flip at the invitation. "Your place? What would the neighbors think of you bringing home such a troublemaker?"

"They'll survive." He placed his hand on her back, guiding her down the sidewalk. The touch sent sparks through her body, reminding her of how his hands had felt on her waist during their dance. How solid and warm he'd been against her.

"You're being awfully quiet," he said after a block of walking.

"Just thinking about how you actually have a house. I figured you lived at the station."

"Funny." But his lips twitched.

They walked several more blocks until they reached a modest craftsman-style house with a perfectly manicured lawn. Everything about it screamed order and control, just like its owner.

Inside was exactly what she'd expected - and somehow not. The furniture was sparse but comfortable looking. Everything had its place, from the perfectly aligned coasters on the coffee table to the methodically arranged books on the shelves. But there were also surprising touches - a soft throw blanket draped over the couch, family photos on the mantle, and a collection of vintage records in the corner.

"This is very... you," she said, running her finger along a spotless shelf. "Do you color code your sock drawer too?"

"Only on Tuesdays." He shrugged off his jacket, and she couldn't help but notice how his shirt stretched across his shoulders. "Want something to drink?"

"Got any witch's brew?"

"Water or coffee."

"Such a wild man." She flopped onto his couch, deliberately disturbing the perfectly arranged throw pillows. "Coffee then."

As he disappeared into the kitchen, Tabitha hugged one of his pillows to her chest, breathing in the scent of him that clung to the fabric. She'd never admit it, but being here, in his space, felt oddly right.

Tabitha watched Dominic return with two steaming mugs. The aroma of dark roast filled the air as he handed her a mug before settling into the armchair beside her. His presence filled the small space, radiating that alpha energy that made her want to simultaneously roll her eyes and lean closer.

"So," she said, blowing on her coffee. "Going to share exactly what you overheard?"

Dominic's jaw clenched tight. "Those bastards. Bruce said, and I quote, 'These paranormals think they can just live among us like they're normal. It's disgusting.'"

The coffee suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth. "Charming guy you work with."

"Then Roy responded with 'That's why we're here. To restore the natural order.'" Dominic's green eyes flashed, a reminder of the predator beneath his controlled exterior. "In my town. They're planning this in my town."

A chill ran down Tabitha's spine despite her attempt to keep things light. "The Hunters don't exactly have a great track record with peaceful solutions." She'd heard the stories - whole communities of paranormals driven out, some disappearing entirely. "Remember Haven City? They were supposed to be untouchable."

"No one's touching my people." His voice dropped to a growl that made her magic spark in response.

"Your people?" She arched an eyebrow. "Getting possessive there, Sheriff."

"They're my responsibility." He leaned forward. "And they're trying to frame you to start trouble."

"Yeah, well, I'm used to being blamed for chaos." She tried for a smile but knew it fell flat. "Though usually it's actually my fault."

"This isn't a joke, Tabitha."

"You think I don't know that?" Her magic crackled, making the lights flicker. "They're trying to use me to hurt everyone I care about. To hurt my home." She met his intense gaze. "I may be a troublemaker, but this is my town too."

The look he gave her was different from his usual disapproving stare. Something warmer, almost appreciative. "Then let's make sure they regret ever setting foot in it."

Tabitha set her coffee mug down. "The bar has to have security footage of Bruce meeting with an actual Hunter. That's more than enough to nail him."

"It's not that simple," Dominic said. "One meeting isn't enough to prove conspiracy."

"Are you kidding me?" Her magic crackled and the lights flickered again. "He's working with people who want to hurt everyone in this town. Your town, remember?"

"Which is exactly why we need to be smart about this." He leaned forward, his shirt stretching across his broad chest. "If we move too quickly, we'll only get Bruce. The Hunters will disappear, regroup, and come back stronger."

She stood up, pacing across his immaculate living room. Her boots left slight scuff marks on his pristine hardwood floor. "More people could get hurt while we wait."

"I won't let that happen." The growl in his voice made her pause. When she turned, his eyes had that predatory gleam that reminded her he wasn't just some rule-follower. "Trust me."

"Trust you?" She laughed, but it came out shakier than intended. "The guy who's given me how many tickets?"

"All of which you deserved." He stood, closing the distance between them. "But have I ever been unfair?"

She wanted to say yes but couldn't. Despite everything, Dominic had always been frustratingly fair.

"Fine." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "One month. If we don't catch them red-handed in one month, we do this my way."

His lips twitched. "Giving me deadlines now?"

His fingers wrapped around her hand, his grip warm and gentle. Her magic sparked beneath her skin at the contact.

"I accept your deadline," he said, his voice a low rumble that made her stomach flip. "And your help."

Tabitha's heart thundered against her ribs. She pulled her hand away, trying to ignore how cold it felt without his touch, and settled back onto his couch. The leather cushions creaked as he sat beside her, close enough that his thigh brushed against hers.

"So," she said, focusing on anything but the heat radiating from him, "the Hunters need somewhere to lay low. Somewhere public enough not to draw attention."

"Makes sense." His shoulder pressed against hers as he leaned back. "Any ideas?"

"A few places come to mind." She twisted a strand of purple hair around her finger. "The Red Door downtown - they're not exactly picky about their clientele. The Rusty Nail too, though that place is more shifter territory."

"You seem to know a lot about the seedier side of town."

"Don't act so surprised." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "Some of us actually know how to have a good time."

His lips curved into that rare half-smile that always made her magic dance. "Is that what you call it?"

"Better than alphabetizing case files on a Friday night."

"I organize them by date, actually."

The scent of his cologne wrapped around her, woodsy and masculine. Combined with the warmth of his body and the way his voice had dropped to that deep, intimate tone, it was making it hard to concentrate.

"We should check The Underground first," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's perfect for people who don't want to be found."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Maybe." She turned to face him and found his face much closer than expected. His eyes were dark and intense, fixed on her with a predatory focus that made her breath catch. "I might have hidden there once or twice when someone was being particularly persistent about giving me a ticket."

"Is that so?" His arm stretched along the back of the couch, not quite touching her but close enough that she could feel it. "Should I add that to your file?"

The air between them felt electric, charged with something that wasn’t due to her wild magic. His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back up.

Tabitha's heart hammered in her chest as she stared back at him. The warm light from his lamp caught the sharp angles of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, and suddenly she couldn't think straight. When had the uptight sheriff become so damn attractive? Her magic tingled, urging her to lean in, to find out if those lips were as soft as they looked.

"I should go," she blurted, jumping to her feet. "It's late and I've got... things. Art things."

Dominic rose in one fluid motion. "I'll drive you."

"I can walk."

"At this hour? With Hunters in town?" His voice dropped to that commanding tone that made her knees weak. "Not happening."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes to hide how his protectiveness affected her. "But I better not get any lectures on the way home."

He led her through a side door into his garage, flicking on lights that revealed something completely unexpected - a cherry red 1967 Mustang, gleaming like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

"Holy shit." Tabitha circled the car, running her fingers along its pristine paint job. "Sheriff Stuffypants has a muscle car?"

"Everyone's allowed one vice." His lips curved into that dangerous half-smile.

The interior smelled of leather and something uniquely Dominic. She sank into the passenger seat, watching him slide behind the wheel with practiced ease. The engine purred to life, and she couldn't help but notice how natural he looked there - powerful, in control, and sexy as hell.

The drive was too short. When they pulled up to her house, Tabitha reached for the door handle, but Dominic's voice stopped her.

"Tabitha." His hand covered hers, warm and strong. "I won't let them hurt you. Whatever they're planning, whatever game they're playing - I'll keep you safe."

Her throat tightened. She wanted to make a joke, to brush it off like she always did, but the intensity in his green eyes made the words stick.

"My hero," she managed, but it came out softer than intended.

Maybe he was rigid and rule-bound, but there was something incredibly appealing about his unwavering sense of duty and his fierce protectiveness. It made her wild magic hum with awareness and made her wonder what it would be like to be the focus of all that intensity.