Page 21

Chapter 21

Tobias

Good grief, I was so swept up by her I didn't even notice the dog wasn't here. Adjusting my shirt, I walk out into the shop. As soon as I clear the door, my inner critic—the one I've spent a lifetime listening to—launches its attack.

What the ever loving fuck are you doing? You sleep with her and there will be no going back. The whole town will know and then where will your career go? When she was starting high school, you were already Sheriff. You had your fun, gave her some pleasure, now enough!

The voice sounds suspiciously like my father's—rigid, uncompromising, obsessed with appearances.

Reaching the front door, I spot an older woman with a perfectly coiffed gray bob holding Joey, who's squirming excitedly. Her eyes widen dramatically when she sees me instead of Ruth.

"Hello," I say, unlocking the door. "You must be here for Ruth. I can take Joey for her."

"Sheriff Trenton?" The woman's eyebrows climb toward her hairline. "I... wasn't expecting to see you here." Her hand flies to her chest. "Oh my gosh, Ruth wasn't robbed was she? Is everything alright?" The panic is clear in her voice.

"No, no, she's fine, we're just following up on her security system installation," I lie smoothly. "Ruth's on the phone in the back."

"Oh good. I see," she says, though her tone suggests she sees far more than I'd like. Her eyes drift to my rumpled uniform. "Well, I usually hand pets directly to their owners, but Joey seems eager to see you."

The Chihuahua wriggles and whimpers to be free of her grasp. Our transaction complete, she hesitates, clearly fishing for gossip.

Joey licks my cheek. "He looks great," I mutter, then force a polite smile. "Thanks for bringing Joey back. I'll make sure he gets to Ruth."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," she says with an eyebrow rising to her hairline. Her accusing smile makes me want to crawl into a hole. "You have a good day, Sheriff." She winks and turns away.

I lock the door behind her, exhaling slowly. Joey wiggles enthusiastically.

"Damn it, that's going to be all over town by noon tomorrow," I pet him. The dog tilts his head, untroubled by the thought of gossip. Lucky bastard. I start toward the back room, but my feet grow heavier with each step.

No way are you going back to pick up where you left off. She's going to want more than just tonight. That means dating, being seen together in public.

I stop dead in my tracks, the reality of the situation crashing down on me. What would people say? The respectable Sheriff dating a woman thirteen years his junior? The whispers, the judgment, the speculation. I've built my entire life, my whole identity, around being the steady, dependable, by-the-book Sheriff of Whispering Pines.

"He should be focusing on his job."

"Did you hear who the Sheriff's with?"

"Another break in and where's our Sheriff? Gallivanting with a girl half his age."

Those busy bodies aren't going to get the details right. They're just going to talk and talk.

Ruth deserves way better than me. I'm a dangerous threat. Criminals, Michael, they find out about her and poof they use Ruth against me. I can't do that to her. For her own safety it's better for me to drop this now.

Yeah, that's what I have to do. It's the only responsible thing. My own happiness be damned, her safety is the primary here.

Joey squirms in my arms, eager to get to his owner. With a deep breath, I step through the back door.

Ruth stands exactly where I left her, still wearing nothing but that black lace bra, matching underwear, and those knee-high boots that will probably feature in my dreams for years to come. Her copper hair has fallen partly from its bun, framing her face in wild tendrils. She's never looked more beautiful.

My resolve weakens instantly.

"Hey, sweet boy!" Ruth exclaims, rushing forward to take Joey. The dog practically leaps into her arms, covering her face with excited licks. "Look at your pretty haircut! What a handsome man, yes you are!"

She cuddles him against her chest, and I experience a flash of jealousy toward a ten-pound Chihuahua. Get it together, Trenton. Remember her safety.

"I have to go," I blurt out, already turning toward the door.

"What?" Ruth's voice stops me. "Tobias, wait."

I pause but don't turn around. I can't look at her, not like that. Not if I'm going to do what I need to.

"I need to leave," I repeat, my voice flat.

"Leave?" I hear her set Joey down, followed by the sound of the heels of those damn boots. "What about... this?" I can imagine her gesturing between us.

"What about it?" The words come out harsher than intended and I immediately feel bad but I don't do anything about it.

"Are you serious right now?" Her voice rises with incredulity. "What do you mean, what about it? I'm practically naked here. Not five minutes ago you had your fingers inside me. Th-a-t's what this is."

I finally turn to face her, steeling myself against the hurt and confusion in her eyes. "I shouldn't have done that. It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" The color drains from her face, then rushes back in a wave of angry red. Her tone is a mixture of hurt and fury. "You're fucking joking, right?"

"Ruth, I'm sorry." I take a step back, maintaining distance. "I got carried away. It was unprofessional. I shouldn't have."

"Unprofessional?" She laughs, but it's a hollow sound. "That's what you're going with? I'm not one of your deputies, Tobias. This wasn't a damn performance review."

I glance at Joey, who's found a toy and is happily playing, oblivious to the storm brewing between his humans.

"Please, just let me go," I say quietly. "This was... it can't happen again."

Ruth moves with startling speed, planting herself directly in my path to the door. "No. You do not get to leave without an explanation. Not this time."

She raises herself to her full height, chin lifted defiantly, arms crossed over her black lace bra. The fierce determination in her eyes makes my chest ache. Part of me wants to gather her in my arms, confess everything—my fears, my insecurities, the truth about why I've been pushing her away. The other part of me says leave, leave now. Remember, to keep her safe is to care about her.

Instead, I choose the second option and fortify the walls around my heart.

"I apologize for my behavior," I say formally, as if reporting to a superior. "It was inappropriate."

"WHAT?" Her eyes narrow. "Why do you keep doing this? We get close, things heat up, and suddenly you can't get away fast enough. Why?" She glares at me. "What are you not telling me?"

"Last time I got called away," I pointed out weakly.

"After you'd already started pulling back," she counters. "Tobias, just tell me the truth. Are you interested in me or not?"

Yes. God, yes. Everything about her makes me feel alive and I haven't felt this in fifteen years.

"Ruth, please get dressed." I try changing tactics, averting my eyes from her.

"I don't give a damn about being dressed right now. Answer the question, Tobias." Her stance widens, chin jutting forward. "The number of times you've pulled this bullshit, you owe me an explanation. So?"

"I don't owe—" I stop myself. "Ruth, don't make me do this."

"Do what? Tell the truth? Is that so hard for the upstanding Sheriff Trenton?" Her eyes flash. "You know what? I never took you for a coward."

The word hits like a physical blow. I've been called many things in my life, but never that. My pride flares, momentarily overriding my caution. Before I can stop myself, the lie slips out:

"Fine, I'm not attracted to you."

Ruth steps back as if slapped. "Bullshit."

"I'm sorry, Ruth. I'm just not." I fix my gaze on Joey, unable to look her in the eye while flat out lying so blatantly.

"Then explain your erection," she challenges, voice tight. "Explain your fingers inside me. Twice. Explain why you locked the door and kissed me like you were dying of thirst." Her whole demeanor changes. "Did you do that just to prove you could? I told you my secret. Was this a male ego thing for you? Is that what this is?"

"No, Ruth, no not at all," I answered, hoping she would sense my honesty.

"Then what is it?"

I remain silent, scrambling for a response that won't sound as pathetic as it feels.

Her voice softens dangerously. "Tobias, I thought we had something. I thought you felt it too."

The vulnerability in her tone nearly breaks my resolve. It would be so easy to tell her the truth—that I'm terrified of what others might think, that I've spent my entire adult life crafting an image that doesn't allow for dating a woman thirteen years younger. I rehearse a sentence in my head about her not being safe with me. But it sounds so feeble I can't bring myself to say it.

I know the moment I admit it's about age, she'll argue against it. She'll tell me thirteen years isn't that much. She'll point out we're both consenting adults. She'll make perfectly reasonable arguments that I have no logical counter for.

And I'm not ready to confront that particular truth about myself. So instead, I let her draw her own conclusion from my silence. It's the coward's way out I know it is but since she said it, I might as well roll with it.

"I see," she says quietly, and the resignation in her voice cuts deeper than anger would have. "It's because I'm not thin, isn't it? You're telling me you're not attracted when clearly your body says different. Which means YOU can't admit you like bigger girls."

The hurt in her eyes is unbearable. I open my mouth to deny it. To tell her that her curves are perfect, that I've imagined my hands on them since the first time I saw her, but she cuts me off.

"Don't," she says, holding up a hand. "Don't lie anymore. Your silence has said everything." Her eyes shine with unshed tears. "I never expected this from you, Tobias. Never. I thought you liked me." She bends to retrieve her dress, her movements stiff with dignity. "Stupid me, I thought you liked my curves. I was completely wrong." She points at me, her dress hanging from her hand. "You're pathetic. You know what you like but I'd bet you can't allow yourself to be seen with a plus size girl on your arm."

This went the totally wrong way. "Ruth, that's not–" She cuts me off.

"GET. OUT." The words are quiet but firm. "Get the fuck out and don't ever, ever come back."

I stand frozen, knowing I should correct her misunderstanding but paralyzed by the consequences of the truth. Which is worse—letting her believe I'm shallow enough to reject her based on her body, or admitting I'm weak enough to let others' opinions dictate my happiness?

"I. SAID. GET. OUT!" Her voice breaks on the command, and Joey startles, darting beneath a nearby table.

It's the final push I need. Head bowed in shame, I turn and walk out, each step heavier than the last. By the time I reach the front door, I can hear her sobs from the back room. The sound will haunt me.

Outside, the evening air is cool against my burning face. I lean against my truck, the self-loathing so intense I can barely breathe.

Three mistakes in one night: touching her when I knew I shouldn't, lying about why we couldn't be together, and worst of all—letting her believe something horribly untrue about herself rather than admitting the truth about me. For a man who's built his life on rules and doing the right thing, I've just broken my own moral code in the worst possible way.