Page 24 of Seducing the Sheriff (Charming Butte #2)

Billy looked at me with a pleading expression, like he thought I’d intervene on his behalf, but I said, “You heard what Destiny said. Out!”

“But, but…” He shuffled toward the door, turning with one last look, as if Destiny might change her mind.

“Sorry about that,” Destiny said brusquely when the door closed behind Billy. “I don’t take that kind of language in here.” Then she grimaced. “Billy’s always had a big mouth, even when he was a kid.”

I was still in the middle of my freak-out, and Destiny was being so nice and matter-of-fact to me.

“Would you mind taking his mom her order. I know that was what Billy was in here for and she’ll skin him alive if she doesn’t get her macchiato.”

“I’m not sure who I should be more worried about. Billy or his mom,” I said.

Destiny waved her hand. “Billy’s all mouth. You know what young guys are like. They never think with their upstairs brain.”

And right then, I was back to the previous night. I hadn’t been thinking with my upstairs brain last night.

“I’ll make one for her and a hot chocolate for Rosie. Then no one will shout at you.”

This was going to be an expensive quick call to the coffee shop.

“The drinks are on me,” Destiny continued. “You shouldn’t hear that kind of language in here.”

Now I felt guilty. I made sure I stuffed several notes in the tip jar so she knew how much I appreciated her support.

“You’re not responsible for someone else behaving like that,” I assured her.

She nodded, but I wasn’t sure she was convinced.

I left juggling three cups, and various treats, because Destiny threw in an extra two for the ladies. I sat in my car and downed half my coffee in three large gulps. I felt I’d earned it after the past fifteen minutes.

I rubbed at the bristles on my chin. I hadn’t had time to shave this morning as I’d snuck an extra five minutes in bed with Greg.

Had throwing Billy out of the coffee shop been the right thing to do?

Or would that just fuel his resentment against queers?

The last thing I wanted was him taking it out on other gay and lesbian residents in Charming.

I’d seen this happen elsewhere in the county and I didn’t want it to happen here.

I’d keep an eye on him. Maybe I should warn Greg. It wouldn’t take much to send his home up in flames. I reached for my phone, then hesitated. Now I was using any excuse to call him. I needed to get back to the office and do my job.

Rosie greeted my offering of hot chocolate with delight and a scolding about making her put on weight. Mainly delight. I noticed she didn’t refuse it.

Then, with some trepidation, I went in search of Joan, Billy’s mom. She was a police officer, who worked for the police chief.

She smiled at me as I approached her desk. “Sheriff! I see you come bearing gifts.”

“It’s from Destiny,” I said. “A macchiato.” I handed her the drink.

Joan furrowed her brow. “I sent Billy out for that nearly an hour ago. Did you see him?” Then she caught sight of my expression. She gave a long-suffering sigh. “What did he do now?”

“Upset Destiny with some inappropriate language. He’s been banned.”

Joan cursed under her breath, using words I’d only heard from a distant cousin in the Navy. “I’m going to kill him. What kind of language?”

I winced. “He made a comment about queers.”

Now it was her turn to flinch. “I’m so sorry, sheriff.”

I waved it off. “You don’t need to apologize, Joan. Billy is an adult. He can make his own mistakes. But Destiny didn’t want you to miss out on your drink.” I dug in the bag and handed her the macaron. “And a sassy saucer.”

Joan stared at it, then shook her head. “Destiny is such a sweetheart.” She eyed me for a moment. “I am sorry, sheriff.”

I understood. She was apologizing without us having to drag out an awkward conversation.

“As long as Billy apologizes to Destiny, we’re good,” I said, smiling at her to show I meant it.

“Oh, he’ll apologize all right,” she said grimly.

For a brief moment I felt a little sorry for Billy. Just for one moment.

I headed back to my office, promising Rosie I would be available for a meeting in twenty minutes. I needed time to decompress and finish my rapidly cooling drink.

“Don’t forget to call Mr. Harding,” she cooed.

I shut the door on the world with a sigh of relief. Then I tucked the bag containing Greg’s buttermilk bar in the top drawer of my desk and sat back in my seat with my own, swilling it down with the last mouthful of the coffee.

I needed a moment.

The phone on my desk chose that moment to ring.

I picked it up with a huffed out, “Lawson.”

“Sheriff, it’s Rosie.”

As if I didn’t know that.

“Just to remind you again to call Mr. Harding. I expect you’ve forgotten about that in the excitement.

Excitement? What excitement? Drinking my coffee? A young man with a big mouth? But only the mention of Greg’s name and I felt panic in my chest start up again. What if someone spotted me leaving his place this morning? The whole town will know it by the end of the day.

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t ignore Greg, but I had to focus on my work. I’d visit him later.

“Thanks, Rosie.”

I left it at that. She huffed as she put the phone down. I had no idea what the problem was. Not for the first time, I decided I didn’t understand women at all.

I bit my lip. She’d keep nagging me until I called him, wouldn’t she?

I scrolled down and hit his number. It was right at the top of my list.

“You’re kinda late for lunch.” His rich chuckle warmed me to my toes.

“Sorry about that. It’s been a busy day.”

“No worries. You said you were gonna be busy.” Greg didn’t sound offended thankfully.

“You can always call me on my cell,” I said. “Unless you want to talk to Rosie.”

He gave a rueful chuckle. “True, but I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“You could never bother me, Greg,” I assured him.

I meant it, and from his sigh, he understood.

We chatted for a bit longer but then my desk phone trilled. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

“No worries. Catch you later.”

Before I could respond, Rosie burst in, “Sheriff, a woman has been assaulted in Santa Maria.”

“Go, go,” Greg said in my ear.

I disconnected our call and answered my desk phone. I’d just sorted that out when there was another call.

“Sheriff, there are sheep running down Main Street in Townsville.”

And another.

“Sheriff, there’s been an attempted breakout from the county jail.”

Sheriff. Sheriff. Sheriff.

My whole afternoon was one phone call after another.

I meant to call Greg back, I really did, but my day ran away with me and before I’d finished it was dark outside. I sat back in my chair. I. Was. Done. So done. I needed something to eat and my bed.

I groaned as my cell rang. I was ready to ignore it, but then I saw it was Greg.

“Unless you’re promising dinner and a beer—” I started.

“How about you bring take-out, and I provide a mystery.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve found another skeleton in your closet.” I did not have it in me to play cop tonight.

“Nope. You are dead body free, sheriff. But I might have a clue regarding my previous inhabitant.”

“Oh?” Now my interest was piqued.

“Bring takeout, your choice, and I’ll provide the mystery and the beers.”

“You’re on. I’ll go via home to change. I need to get out of this uniform. See you in an hour?”

“See you then,” Greg said, and my toes curled at his warm voice.

I shut down my laptop, tidied my desk, picked out the buttermilk bar for Greg, and made sure everything was locked away. By the time I left most of the day shift had gone home. I checked everyone left in the office was okay and then I walked, no ran, to my car, ready to leave this day behind me.

All I wanted was a dinner, beer, and a hot man. And the mystery too.

My belly growled as I pulled up in Greg’s drive, the paper bag of tacos and burritos filling the truck cab, slow torture for a hungry man.

I hoped to hell he liked them, because I wasn’t about to get anything else.

From the way his nose twitched and his chest expanded on that first deep inhale when he opened the door, I figured that was a solid yes.

“Food or mystery?” he asked, shutting the door behind me with a soft click that felt more like sealing us off from the rest of the world.

I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I stepped close, slid my hand to the warm skin at the back of his neck, and tugged him forward.

“First,” I murmured, “a kiss.”

The low and needy sound he made went straight to my balls. His mouth met mine, lips parting eagerly, tongues tangling in a slow, decadent duel. He tasted faintly of beer and cinnamon gum, but mostly he tasted like Greg—familiar, grounding, and addictive all at once.

It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t frantic. Just enough heat to remind us both of what simmered beneath the surface, of how badly I wanted this, him, us.

When I finally eased back, breath warm against his cheek, I caught his dazed grin and couldn’t stop my own. “I needed that. Now, how about we eat, and you tell me about this mystery over dinner?”

“Perfect,” he said, voice rougher than usual. His eyes sparkled as he added, “I’ve been waiting hours to open the box.”

I froze, burritos suddenly forgotten.

“Box? What box?”