Page 1 of Protected by the Sheriff (Magnolia Falls #2)

Olivia

A fter being here for almost six months, I still love the drive to work.

The scent of pine and damp earth hangs heavy in the air as my beat-up Subaru coughs its way up the final incline into Magnolia Falls.

Nestled deep in the Tennessee mountains, the town clings to the slopes like a stubborn weed.

Its older but neatly maintained buildings, painted in faded pastels, seem to whisper stories of simpler times.

Emerald valleys and craggy peaks blur past; a breathtaking panorama glimpses through my car windows. This truly is an idyllic place. It’s reminiscent of the postcards with small towns decorated at Christmastime that people use to send. The town is breathtakingly beautiful.

On my way to work, I decide to stop and grab coffee at one of the few places to eat locally.

The Greasy Skillet is the local diner that is the go-to breakfast spot in town.

As I walk in, the bell on the door jingles, alerting the staff of a customer entering.

The clicking of my heels on the cool tile floor makes everyone in the diner turn their heads, eager to see who is making all the racket.

Not only is The Greasy Skillet a great place to eat, but it’s also where the locals hang out and gossip, especially the older, retired members of town.

They smile and wave while leaning in to whisper to the other people sitting at their table.

My quirky appearance means I naturally stand out, but I can’t imagine what they are saying about me.

The thing is, I wear my colorful clothes, makeup, and hair as armor, but it attracts a lot of attention. This constantly feeds the busybodies in town, who love nothing more than to gossip about everything and everyone.

As I take the last few steps to an empty table in the corner, I feel a hard, muscular body hit mine. Looking up, I lock eyes with the local sheriff. He’s a pain in my ass but also my best friend Savannah’s brother-in-law.

His large hands catch my upper arms and stop me from stumbling to the floor. “Watch where you’re walking, Crayola.”

“Crayola?”

“Well, you look like a walking crayon box with all the”—he waves his hand towards me—“color.” As he finishes his sentence, he flinches, as if he knows how offensive his words are.

“If you don’t like my colorful personality, then don’t look at me.” I smirk before walking the last couple of steps to my table and taking a seat.

Sitting at my table, I ignore the behemoth standing over me, looking down at me. He’s an asshole. From the moment we met, we’ve hated one another but have to pretend to get along for Savannah and Declan’s sake. We just ignore one another as much as possible.

The problem is that when I moved here, I bought a house.

There was one neighbor on the mountain that it’s located on.

ONE FUCKING NEIGHBOR. Of all the people in the world who could have been my neighbor, it’s Mason fucking Walker.

I signed the contract on my house before finding out who lived in the house next door.

Had I known the asshole was the homeowner, I would have found a different place to live.

Since purchasing the house, Mason has made it his priority to make my life hell.

He’s constantly making smart remarks, trying to piss me off.

The worst part is the fucker is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

Tall, at least six and a half feet. The combination of his dark hair, brown eyes, and short but rugged beard is so enticing that whenever I see him, I clench my legs and rub my knees together.

I can’t reveal how effortlessly he ignites a fire within me with just a glance.

He would mock me relentlessly, his words sharp as knives, and think I was a fool.

While I act like I’m looking over the menu unnecessarily, I hear someone clear their throat. Looking up, I see Declan. “Olivia, how are you this morning?”

“Declan, hi. It’s good to see you. I’d be okay if people would watch where they are walking and say excuse me.”

As I glance over at Mason, who is standing beside his brother, I notice his face turning an intense shade of red. “If Crayola paid attention to where she was walking, I wouldn’t have to keep saying excuse me repeatedly.”

Declan’s gruff laugh fills the air. “I was just checking to see how you’ve been doing. Savannah misses you, so don’t be a stranger, alright? The kids have been asking for you.”

“You know I can’t wait to spend time with Kenzi and Ashton, and now that I have Branded up and running, I will have more time to spend with them.”

“Good, because Savannah loves having you here. Maybe soon you can watch the kids while I take Van away for a vacation?”

“Of course. You never have to ask.”

“Mason here can stay the weekend with you to make sure you guys don’t need anything and to give you a hand.”

“Declan, that’s unnecessary. I can handle the two kids alone.”

“We know you can, Olivia, but we don’t want to put too much stress on one person.

Kenzi is a handful, and Ashton is still so little he’s a lot to handle.

He’s at the stage where he wants to be held all the time.

We wouldn’t want you to be overwhelmed by them.

Now I just have to convince my wife to leave the kids for a weekend.

Try to talk her into it for me, will ya, Liv? ”

Looking down at the menu again, I frown. When I said I’d watch the kids, no one told me the asshole had to be there. It wouldn’t matter because I’d never tell Declan and Savannah no when it comes to spending time with my niece and nephew, but still. It’s the last thing I need.

Even though I keep my eyes down on the menu that I’ve memorized ten times over, I can see Declan’s smirk out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes I swear he’s trying to push me to murder his brother.

After the guys leave, a pretty redhead appears to take my order. She gives me a sweet, shy smile. “Can I take your order?”

“Yeah, can I get four coffees to go and give me a breakfast burrito with those, please?

“Of course. We have a new bakery coming to town, and the owner has dropped off pastries and donuts for breakfast. The name of her bakery is Sugar Mama. We’re selling them until she can get her store set up. Would you like to try something on her menu?”

“Donuts?” I ask as my mouth waters.

She nods. “Freshly made this morning.”

“Let me have four.” I hand the waitress back the menu that I never needed to begin with, and she takes off. My hands tremble as I fidget, waiting for my order. All I can think about is Mason Walker. Why does he affect me so much when we hate each other?

He’s so freaking sexy in that uniform, and I’ve never been a woman affected by men in uniforms. Cops have never been my flavor either, but every time I’m in his vicinity, I leave wet and quivering. It makes no sense.

When the waitress reappears, she has my four coffees in a cup carrier, and the donuts are in a beautiful box with the upcoming bakery’s logo on it.

It’s really cute, and this is why I love living in a small town because this diner is willing to help the new bakery sell its products.

They aren’t in competition but help one another out. Small town life is amazing.

My shop, Branded by Olivia , is in a beautiful old building that sits on a plot of land near a glistening lake.

With the last four months dragging on for an eternity, I’m just happy Branded is finally up and running.

The extra space makes it possible for me to expand in the years to come.

I’ve spent every day for months designing and decorating the inside of my shop to get it perfect.

The hot pink walls, accented with deep purple, are a vibrant backdrop to the purple tattoo chairs and the art hanging on the walls. Dominating the lobby, the front reception desk showcases many tattoo catalogues, offering a wide selection for customers or the option of a personalized design.

Walking in, I greet my receptionist, Hadley. She’s a tiny young woman with black hair, covered in tattoos and even has gauges in her ears. Beautiful, with a perky personality. Hadley reminds me of a pixie.

I drop her coffee and donut off before heading into the piercing room where Piper is cleaning and setting up for the day.

Piper looks up and smiles. “Good morning.”

“It started out that way.” I sigh.

“What happened?” Piper frowns, waiting for me to respond.

“That damn Mason Walker happened. He never fails to do shit that pisses in my cornflakes. Fucking called me Crayola this morning. What the hell kind of nickname is that?”

Piper giggles. “It’s kind of cute, actually. I don’t think you two hate each other as much as you say you do. You guys should just fuck it out.”

A shriek comes out of me. “Piper! Don’t say such a thing, woman. There is no way in hell I’m ever having sex with Mr. Sheriff, who has a stick up his ass. Also, here is your donut and coffee. I’m never buying you breakfast again, twatwaffle.”

I lay the food down on her table and walk out, her chuckles following me. Rolling my eyes, I try to remember she’s become my friend, and I’d miss her if I ran her over with my car.

As I walk to the last chair in the shop, Knox looks up, giving me a chin lift.

He’s not much of a talker but would melt the panties off any woman who looks his way.

He’s huge, muscular, and covered in tattoos.

At first, I would blush every time he looked my way, but as I got to know him better, I realized there was no attraction there, and he’s become as much of a friend as Piper and Hadley have.

“Morning, Boss.”

“Knox, I brought you breakfast. There’s a new bakery coming to town. They have a deal with The Greasy Skillet to sell their products until they’ve set up in their own space. I figured being a newer business in town, we could give them some support.”

“Thanks. I’m starving.” The sexy motherfucker winks at me, and if I were any other woman, my panties would dissolve midair.

“You’re always starving,” I giggle girlishly.

“It takes a lot to keep this bod of mine going.” He pats his stomach and rubs it, even though there’s not an ounce of fat on it.

My cheeks burn because I can’t help but look down his body and remember how rock hard his abs felt the last time he gave me a little hug.

Chuckling, I walk away from his space and into my own, where I sit down, take a deep breath, and start sipping the life water that is my coffee. I’ve always had trouble functioning without caffeine.

Knox is hot, but not in the way that affects me like Mason. I don’t get it. Of all the men who melt my panties off me, it has to be the one that gets on my last nerve. Yes, I blush at Knox, but my pussy weeps when I’m around Mason like a whore in church.

I bite into the donut, and it melts in my mouth. A moan escapes me. These have to be the best donuts I’ve ever tasted.

Note to self: Next time get extra.

After setting up for the day, I hear the doorbell, alerting us that our first customer is here.

Tattooing is therapeutic for me, but I realized quickly that if I kept getting them, I was going to run out of places to put them.

That’s what drove me to work on other people.

I get the same therapeutic, calming effect without having to find more real estate on my own body.

I love my job, and I love creating beautiful art that people can carry with them for a lifetime.

When I was young, I loved to draw and was good at it.

After working as an intern at a biker-owned tattoo shop and eventually becoming a licensed artist, I felt it was time to open my own shop.

The owner of the shop took me under his wing when he learned that I was planning to start a business of my own and quickly taught me what he could.

In the time I was working there, I gained invaluable experience, but it was time for me to move on.

I’m not complaining; the staff at my former workplace were fantastic. They may have been rough, but they looked out for me, defending me against the disrespectful and overly familiar guys.

The move to Magnolia Falls has been great. Having Savannah and her family close is amazing. I even love my house, but I don’t love my neighbor. If it weren’t for him, everything would be perfect.