“Honor? Honor are you listening?”
“Yes, unfortunately I can still hear you, Dr. Daniels.”
“Good. That means I’m still getting through to you. Honor, I’ve already called my friend, Shay, and had her pull your items from her stock. All you’ve just got to do is drive up there and tell her who you are. I won’t even ask that you peruse the store on this trip.”
“On this trip?” Honor echoed suspiciously. “You say that like you think I’ll be making more than one. Bree, after this, I’m never darkening your friend’s door again.”
“Never say never, Honor. That’s just asking for trouble,” Bree said with a smile as the timer on her desk buzzed. “Well, that’s our session. I’ll see you on Friday, Honor.”
“Not if I figure a way out of it first,” Honor grumbled under her breath as she bent and collected her purse from the floor next to the sofa.
“What was that?” Bree asked pleasantly, her green eyes twinkling.
“I said have a nice week,” she lied sweetly as she waved at the doctor and closed the door behind her.
~***~
Honor was jarred back to the present by a horn blaring loudly behind her. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed an irritated driver behind her. Seeing the irritated face of one of her regular customers, Big Mike Danson, staring daggers at her bumper, Honor groaned. There was no doubt the local insurance agent would report to Zeke that she’d been driving distractedly, holding up traffic this morning. Hopefully she could coax the guy into keeping quiet with a piece of one of the chocolate silk pies she’d made for the lunch rush when she’d arrived to work just after dawn this morning.
It had been a stroke of luck that Zeke had even let her drive herself to her appointment today. Usually, he or one of his deputies escorted her, but with a couple of his officers on vacation, the department was currently understaffed and everyone else had other business to attend to this morning. Throwing up an apologetic hand at the still honking driver behind her, she quickly steered her car into the gravel parking lot of the café she ran with her sisters and aunt as Big Mike gunned past, still blowing his infernal horn.
“Jerk,” she muttered as she glared at his big white diesel truck, her nose curling as it emitted a stinky black puff of smoke. Purposefully putting Big Mike and his impatient lead foot out of her mind, Honor’s small smile was automatic as she pulled into her normal parking slot beside her ancient aunt’s newest impulse purchase, her shiny red sports car. Glancing at her oldest relative’s new ride, she groaned out loud as she remembered last night’s dinner conversation with Zeke when he’d come in the back door from work.
~~***~~
June 26, 2015
7:20 pm
Hearing the back door open behind her, Honor turned from where she stood in her bare feet at the stove, stirring a pan of simmering pasta sauce and watched as an unsmiling Zeke let himself into the house. “Hey,” she said carefully, gauging his mood. Well over half an hour later than his usual time in arriving home, the sheriff had looked both disgruntled and exhausted as he stepped inside the kitchen. “Bad day?” she asked when he tossed his Stetson on one of the pegs that hung by the back door.
“You could say that,” Zeke growled. “You’re probably gonna get a phone call in a few minutes, but in my defense let me just say that she had it coming.”
“Who had what coming, Zeke?” Honor asked, quickly flipping off the stove and removing the hot pan off the heated burner. “Oh, God, is Patience in jail again for not paying all those blame parking tickets? I told her a dozen times that the city wasn’t gonna back down and her taxes do NOT count as dues for parking meters! Judge Simmons finally just put out a bench warrant for her arrest, didn’t he? She’s married to an attorney for heaven’s sake. I swear, she’s Abel’s problem now,” Honor fumed, wiping her hands on a dish towel before dropping it beside the sink. “Of course, she does have three little babies so if you could see it in your heart to conveniently leave her cell unlocked so she could…”
“Oh, it’s not your sister. At least not this time,” Zeke returned with a long-suffering sigh. “Although, that bench warrant may not be far off. Remind me to talk to Abel about those tickets.”
“Then what?”
“It’s your batshit crazy aunt,” Zeke retorted grumpily, running a hand through his thick black hair. “That damn woman’s determined to either kill herself or somebody else in that tin can on wheels she’s drivin’ around like it’s her own personal lethal weapon! Seriously, patrol clocked her going ninety in a forty-five around a fuckin’ CURVE, Honor.”
“Oh, my,” Honor murmured.
“Oh, it gets worse. Your insane kinfolk then proceeded to lead two of my deputies on a five mile high speed chase! The old woman actually thought she could OUTRUN them. And when she finally decided to give up and pull over, do you know what she asked my men? Do you?”
“No,” Honor denied with a cringe. “What?”
“She said, and I quote her directly, ‘Did y’all have as much fun as I did? How ‘bout we go do it again?’”
Hanging her head in defeat, Honor fought a hysterical laugh. “Oh, Lord. What happened next?”
“Oh, I had them arrest her for reckless driving and attempting to evade arrest.”
“What?!” Honor’s head jerked upright as her widened gaze found Zeke’s.
“I briefly considered charging her with assault of a police officer, too, since she took a swing at me with her pocketbook when they finally got her into the station, but then I remembered how much I love YOU and decided against it.”
“Zeke, so help me if you left my positively ancient auntie in the pokey after all she’s done for me…” she began to threaten as she nailed him with a panicked look. Thinking of her seventy-five year old second mother sitting on one of those filthy narrow cots behind solid metal bars was enough to send her nearly through the roof.
Rolling his steel gray eyes, Zeke crossed his arms over his chest. “She had it coming, Honor! On the open road, that woman’s a menace to the residents of Paradise!”
“Ezekiel Kinkaid Monroe,” she began sharply, “That is my favorite Auntie that you’re slandering.”
“It’s not slander if it’s completely true. It’s just a statement of fact, Honor Grace McKinnon! Besides, Miss Orla is completely safe and sound. I didn’t have the heart to lock her up. At least not yet. I just dropped her off at home and had the deputy following us park that damn Camaro in the barn, where it should stay until such time as you and your sisters convince her to part with it. That’s what took me so long. In lieu of jail time, I managed to get old Judge Simmons to do me a favor and suspend her driver’s license until such time as she gives up that damned sports car. But so help me, woman, if I see her in it again, I WILL lock the crazy bat up and throw away the damn key.”
“You let her go home?” Honor questioned softly, uncertain she’d heard him correctly, her heart softening when she saw his answering nod.
“I let her go home. But if I see that car anytime soon, bad things are gonna happen,” he warned before pressing a kiss to Honor’s forehead. “Now, what’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
~~***~~
The I Don’t Care Café
10:30 am
Seeing her obviously insane aunt’s gleaming sports car sparkling underneath the rays of the morning sun, Honor hotfooted it in the back door of the café, her eyes already darting around the hot kitchen to locate her aunt. “Aunt Orla!” She called out as she smiled a pleasant hello toward Edgar, one of the fry cooks that had worked for them for years as she reached for her pink apron hanging beside the back door.
“Right here, m’dear,” Aunt Orla declared with a wide smile and twinkling eyes as she bustled through the swinging kitchen door, her arms laden with dirty plates. “Oooohhhhwweeee! But we’ve had a busy morning. The football team came into eat before heading out to their first practice of the year. The coach was payin’ so those boys put it away like men, I tell
you!”
“Aunt Orla, WHAT is that sports car doing in our back parking lot? And please for the love of buttered biscuits, tell me that you did NOT break the law AGAIN by drivin’ in here today! I know you came in late, but I assumed that Uncle Jethro was going to bring you in here in his truck! You KNOW Zeke is gonna put you under the jail if he catches you out and about in that thing, and I don’t care how fond he is of me, that won’t save you!”
Orla blew a raspberry at her niece before putting her hands on her ample hips and frowning. “I don’t know WHAT has that sheriff of yours in such a dither. I was just going a few miles faster than I should.”
“Yeah, actually it was 45 miles. You were goin’ double the speed limit, Auntie!”
Orla snorted. “If you ask me, Zeke’s got a nightstick wedged right up his tight….”
“Auntie!” Honor said sternly, facing her kin with a hard look of her own. “First, Zeke’s not mine. Second, I wouldn’t mention his nightstick to him at all if you don’t want him to club you over your hard head with it,” she warned. “Now, tell me you didn’t drive here!”
“Yes, please tell her,” a deep voice ordered from behind Honor’s back. “Otherwise, you’re going to get very acquainted with the feel of handcuffs, Miss Orla.”
“You’re lucky you look good in those old Levi jeans of yours, Sheriff, otherwise there’d be nothing to enjoy at all about seeing your tight ass,” Orla criticized, crossing her arms across her plump middle.
Honor watched as Zeke bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, but she couldn’t suppress her own tiny giggle.
Arching one inky eyebrow, Zeke’s gaze drifted to Honor. “Oh, you find that funny, do you?”
Swallowing her laughter, Honor shook her head quickly and schooled her face into a suitably chastised expression. “No, of course not,” she returned smoothly.
“Uh huh,” Zeke grunted, turning his attention back to the aged woman. “Alright, Miss Orla. Tell the truth. You get behind the wheel of that deathtrap?” Zeke grilled her stoically.
“No, she did not,” another voice breezily announced. “She called me this morning and asked me to drive her. I wanted to take the Camaro so that I could see what all the fuss was about,” Maggie Winstead announced, her heart shaped face staring at the sheriff through the order window. “It handled like a dream. Totally thinking about buying myself one of those pretties now.”
“Oh, God,” Zeke groaned. “Maggie, you’re worse than Aunt Orla behind the wheel! You need a Camaro like I need a hole in my head,” he informed the red-haired wealthy woman gruffly. “I swear to Christ, you women are all trying to collectively kill me,” he accused, offering each woman a reproving look.
“We ain’t broke none of the po-po’s laws today, so you can just shove your shackles where the sun don’t shine, Sheriff,” Orla challenged. “Just take your gun and grumbles and go someplace else,” she informed him reproachfully as she finished sliding the dirty dishes into the sink and wiped her hands on her apron before glaring at him and shuffling back out to the dining room.
“You’re in trouble,” Maggie chided, wagging a finger at Zeke as Edgar pushed an omelet into the heated window.
“You will be, too, if I catch you jetting around my town in Orla’s car. I mean it, Mags. Speed limits aren’t just suggestions. They’re the law.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Maggie mocked, grabbing her omelet and offering Edgar a grateful smile. “I’ll see you later, Lawman.”
Laughing softly as Zeke shot Maggie an unamused look as she turned her back on him, Honor murmured, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought y’all were short staffed this week?”
“We are, but I wanted to swing by and check on you after your appointment. I just got sidetracked for a minute when I saw your aunt’s damn vehicle in the lot,” Zeke explained as he dropped one hand to her hip. “You got a minute to talk about something?”
Honor stared up at him. As usual, Zeke’s face remained impassive and completely unreadable. “You and that cop face. One of these days, I’ll learn to read you,” she murmured before jerking her chin toward the back door. “It’s pretty out. Let’s go out to the picnic table,” she suggested. Seeing his nod, Honor led the way back outside.
Barely after ten in the morning and already hot and muggy, the sun beat down on their heads as they made their way across the lot to sit at one of the two wooden table under a cluster of oak trees. “It’s still hot, but at least we’re in the shade now,” she remarked as she dropped to one of the benches. “What’s going on?” she asked as he sat down beside her and stretched one long arm out behind her to cushion her back against the hard edge of the table. When Zeke still didn’t say anything a few moments later, Honor turned to study his profile. Today, he seemed grim, his lips set in a straight line and his jaw hard. Her stomach twisted with dread. “Zeke, you’re starting to scare me,” she worried aloud, shifting her body toward him. “What’s going on?”
Licking his lips slowly, Zeke turned his eyes toward her. “First, tell me about your session today,” he encouraged her gently. “I wanna hear something good.”
“I didn’t give into the urge to impale Bree on her own letter opener when she gave me an asinine homework assignment today.”
Zeke grinned. “That is good. Visiting you in the state pen would suck. I know they say life is short, but getting slapped with twenty to life would feel like an eternity.”
Honor returned his smile. “I don’t care what y’all say. I think that woman is trying to kill me with some of these field trips that she keeps sending me on in the name of homework. The one last month to that newfangled yoga studio that opened beside Hooks and Books was bad enough. I should have namaste’d my butt at home. And you can’t say you don’t agree about that one,” she said, pointing her index finger at his nose as she narrowed her eyes. “That whole thing had disaster written all over it from the start. From Aunt Orla’s insistence on participating with me in full yoga regalia to the altercation I had with the instructor when that man put his hand on my rear end to try to correct my downward dog posture, it was a nightmare from start to finish and not even God himself will convince me that I’m wrong on that!”
Zeke’s grin widened. “Hand to God, I don’t know what was worse about that afternoon…watching your elderly aunt squeeze into those yoga pants or nearly coming unglued when that idiot put his hand on your ass. Lucky for me, my girl had it under control and I didn’t have to do a damn thing. That elbow to the throat you gave the moron made me proud, Kitten. Those self-defense moves I taught you paid off in spades.”
“Don’t remind me,” she moaned. “I’m lucky that poor man didn’t sue me.”
“No, he’s lucky he didn’t have to have my boot surgically removed from his asshole after putting you in that position in the first place.”
Honor remained silent mostly because Zeke was right. The guy had been lucky because Zeke had been furious. Whatever that yoga instructor might or might not have said to her, she would never know since Zeke had sent the man scurrying with one single dangerous look that afternoon. It was one of the things she adored most about the protective man; he didn’t tolerate fools well, lightly or often – and his reputation preceded him everywhere he went. “At any rate,” she finally shared after a few seconds, “I’ve got to go over to Gatlinburg and pick up a few things that Dr. Daniels insists I need. She’s already ordered them for me.”
Zeke scowled. “Gatlinburg? What things, exactly?”
Honor felt pinned underneath the weight of Zeke’s serious gaze. Tapping her foot nervously, she waved a hand in the air. “Oh, just a few items that I need to get in order to do some homework before my Friday appointment. I’m booked prepping food for catering jobs when I’m not baking for the café the remainder of the week. This is my only free afternoon to make the drive over.”
Zeke shook his head. “Babe, I can’t get away nor can I spare a deputy, and there’s no way you’re
going alone.”
“What about if I got Maggie to drive me. You know she’s got a permit to legally carry concealed because of her father’s nasty nature. She’s always packing and she’s a crack shot. It’d just be a quick trip. Straight there and back.” She could tell Zeke didn’t like it, but she also knew he would rather cut off his arm than do anything that interfered with her therapy. “Please?”
Zeke ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Fuck.”
Blinking at his rough curse, Honor froze. It wasn’t that she’d never heard Zeke swear; he did, regularly. It’s just that particular epithet he reserved for especially crappy days and situations. “Zeke?”
“I want a man in the car with you, too. I don’t care which…”
“Zeke, I’d really feel more comfortable if I could keep this little outing confined to a girls only sort of trip,” Honor begged quietly, wondering how in the world she was supposed to go to a sex store with one of her male family members in tow.
“Kitten, I could get Ice…”
“No!” Her denial was short, but sharp, and it made Zeke still beside her.
“Alright, that refusal was a little too adamant. Where exactly in Gatlinburg are you going, Honor?” His suspicion was evident in his face as he continued waiting for her answer.
“I…she wants me to…oh, hellfire and damnation!” Honor exclaimed unhappily, her face reddening. Leaning closer to him, she lowered her voice and hissed. “That demoness doctor wants me to go to the naughty store, Zeke!”
Zeke’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline as his own slate gray dilated. “Pardon?” he choked, squinting in the sunlight as he peered down into her cherry red face.
“You heard me,” Honor moaned piteously, unable to remain still as she began to fidget with the lone aquamarine ring she wore, the pale blue gem glinting as she fiddled with it on her finger. “She wants me to get to know my body and is sending me up there to buy a bullet. I’d rather eat a real bullet than buy one right about now.”
Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) Page 30