“So, Conner is dating him?” I try to pull off sounding nonchalant, but of course Love sees right through me.
“He will be if you don’t get off your ass and give him a reason to stay here with you.”
“I’ve seen Conner’s face light up when Henry Prince is mentioned. It looks to me like if he didn’t leave Midsummer because he was bored, then he probably would for the actor. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly compete with a rich, handsome movie star.”
“Why not?”
“Love!” I say on an exasperated sigh. “I’m not that good-looking, not wealthy, and I’m a single father! Plus, I’m tied to this town for the rest of my life. How exactly is that supposed to compete with anyone? Let alone a famous movie star!”
“Conner already likes you a lot. He doesn’t like-like Henry; he just has some fan worship going on. Henry can only go downward. And given how shit you’ve been to Conner, you can only go up.”
I shake my head at her. “You’re dreaming.”
“Yes, of you being happy! But I guess that’s asking too much.”
I cross my arms over my chest, beyond over this conversation. “Did you seriously just come in here to berate me, or is there something you want?”
She eyes me for a moment, and I stare right back, daring her to keep going with this subject.
“Fine. I just wanted to check to see if you’ve spoken to Conner since Friday night.”
“No. Now, can you please go?”
Love is already shaking her head. “You need to go around and see him.”
“Love, we just had this discussion. Can you please butt out? My love life if none of your—”
“He’s gotten two threatening letters since Friday.”
My mouth flaps open for a second as my train of thought shifts from annoyed to confused to furious.
“Can you repeat that?”
“No. Talk to him. He might think it’s some sort of prank, but I don’t. I’m scared for him.”
I eye her warily, waiting to see the tell that gives away that she’s lying. Yet, she just looks somber.
“You’re being serious?”
“Of course I am!”
“So, this isn’t some stupid plan to get Conner and me in the same room together?”
“No! I mean, I would totally do something like that, but I wouldn’t threaten and scare Conner to do it. The first letter was a bit lame, but the one he got yesterday was disturbing.”
I clench my fists and jaw at the mention of Conner feeling scared. “What did they say?”
“Just go speak to him. He can show them to you. I need to head out. I have an interview with Miss Shields at the antique store.” She stands, and I find myself doing the same. “Talk to him,” she orders as she makes it to the door, which I hold open for her. “And not just about the letters. It isn’t too late to correct this.”
“Love,” I call out before she can disappear. Then, waiting until I have her full attention, I lean over her, using my six-foot, three-inches to tower over the small woman. “Next time you have something this important to tell me, you say it first, and not after a pointless lecture that you have no business giving. Conner’s safety is top priority.”
She nods, and then I watch her go for a couple moments, letting my anger over what’s happening to Conner build inside me before I stuff it back down and head over to Conner’s place.
Chapter Two
I bang my fist on the door at Love’s, not caring that Conner has no reason to be awake at this hour. He doesn’t have a job with set hours yet, since he didn’t answer with the first knock, maybe I should have called and left him a message to call me back when he wakes up.
But I’m too angry to stop myself from pounding on his door, mostly because someone dared to threaten him, and partly because I’m angry he didn’t come to me with it. Even with our history, he should have come to me.
Another pounding of my fist against the door, and it’s unexpectedly flung open.
“Okay, okay, where’s the fire?” Conner grumbles in a rough voice, his hair awry and sleep still in his eyes.
I shiver at just the thought of waking up to this man every morning.
The one time he stayed over, he was awake before me, and I got an incredibly amazing wakeup call. Now I’m wondering if I still missed out since I never got to see this side of Conner. I never got to enjoy his sleepy expression, his hilarious bedhead, or holding him against me from the moment he falls asleep until he wakes up the next morning.
Conner crosses his arms over his bare chest and leans against the doorframe, his sweats hanging deliciously low on his hips. It would take nothing for me to reach out and pull them all the way down. It would take even less for me to drop to my knees and worship him.
Fuck! Get a grip!
“Either you’re desperate for a fuck to be coming over this early in the morning, or you’ve been speaking to Love.”
Funnily enough, I didn’t feel desperate until just now.
“Love,” I growl.
He nods in understanding, clearly aware of what’s coming. Then he steps away from the door and leads me through the small cottage.
I glance around the small area. This was a late addition to the hotel that Love’s parents own. I have to admit that I’d probably be willing to stay close to my parents, too, if I had the views this place does.
The Last Resort is on the main street. Behind it, the ground level lowers dramatically, to the point where everyone who has a back room, or Love’s cottage, gets a scenic view of the mountains that surround us.
I know the idea behind Love’s cottage was to build several of them scattered around the back area, close enough to the hotel to still be part of it, but with enough distance and privacy to give whoever stayed in them a sense of being completely alone. But after Love’s was built, the financing fell through. In fact, they were probably lucky to get Love’s built. As it was, a lot of locals, myself included, helped by volunteering through a few working bees.
Nevertheless, the small space is well-furnished and loved, if not a little cluttered and messy.
“Here.” Conner slaps some papers into my hand, which I shift so I’m only holding the corner of each page. “I thought about throwing away the first one, since I figured it was probably just some stupid joke, but then the other one came yesterday and …”
I look over both pages in my hand.
“This was first.” He points to the one that says:
Leave Midsummer, and you won’t need to die.
Rather vague and not too menacing. The next one, though, seems to make up for that.
If you don’t leave Midsummer, then they will find your body in pieces. Every day you stay is another hour of torture.
I have to resist crumpling the page in my hand.
I’m not sure there will be much evidence to be found on them, but I won’t compromise them in case there is.
I gently place both down on the kitchen counter then pull out some evidence bags that I stuck in my back pocket. I unrumple them then carefully place both letters in the bags.
“They didn’t come in an envelope?”
“The first one did.” Conner searches the dining room table then pulls out an envelope that has a stamp on it. “It came in with the rest of my mail.” His eyes subconsciously shift to the side, and I eye the shoebox sitting on the floor in the corner. No doubt the shoes that Henry fucking Prince bought him.
I want to ask him about it, but I have no right to. Besides, I need to stay focused.
“And the second letter?”
We don’t have mail delivered on the weekends, so it’s obviously been hand delivered, which feels even more sinister when you consider the darker words they used.
“Placed on Lemon’s windshield and held down with my wipers.”
So, they weren’t comfortable enough to approach the house, but they were the car.
“You didn’t see anything?”
“It was
during the brunch thing you guys have after Sunday Mass. Love thought it would be fun for me to go. I did, and I got to talk to a lot of interesting people. They were friendly and welcoming. Then we came back and found this.” He indicates the letter.
“And, why didn’t you come to me immediately?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, looking defensive. “Like I said, I thought the first one was harmless.”
“And this one?” I hold up the disgusting letter.
“I was going to talk to you.”
“But you didn’t.”
He places his hands on his hips, definitely looking annoyed now. “I haven’t even woken up today.”
“You got this yesterday.”
Conner purses his lips. “I didn’t want to disturb you on a Sunday.”
“This is my job. What if something had happened to you last night?” I snap, unable to keep the anger out of my tone.
Conner winces. “Trust me; I already thought of that.” He shifts his eyes away from my accusing ones.
I again take in Conner’s haggard appearance. He does look like he just woke up, yet he still looks tired.
I glance at my watch and note that it’s getting close to ten in the morning. I’ve seen Conner up much earlier than this around town, and the morning he stayed with me, he was up before my alarm. He doesn’t strike me as much of a night owl.
“You had trouble sleeping last night,” I state, not asking because it’s obvious now.
The idea that Conner struggled to sleep, scared in my town, pisses me off. The fact that he faced it alone and didn’t come to me makes me even more furious.
He gives me a half-shrug, his eyes focused on his bare feet.
“You should have come to me.”
“I was going to. Today.”
“You know what I mean,” I say softly.
His eyes shoot up and narrow on me, anger flashing over him. “Why? You made it clear what you’re looking for, and I don’t fit it.”
“I care about you, Conner,” I growl.
“I’m just a decent fuck, Rocky. Nothing more.”
I almost snarl at him, “You know that’s not true.”
“Then why can’t you commit to more? If I’m more than just a fuck, then what am I?”
I hate how he puts me on the spot like this, because it isn’t an easy answer.
“I have a lot on my plate right now, Conner. I can’t do this.”
“It’s a simple question, Rocky. What am I to you?”
It sounds like such a simple question, but the answer is anything but.
“You’re Conner.”
“I’m Conner to a lot of people. So, I’m just the same as a stranger whose name you happen to know?”
“No!” I bark, fisting my hands at my side as a burst of energy shoots through me. I want to simultaneously hit something, run a mile, and grab ahold of Conner and never let him go. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “Look, I’m too tired for this bullshit, anyway. It doesn’t matter what your answer is. The outcome stays the same. You’re here to do a job, so let’s just keep it that way.”
I hate that he’s boxing me off, shifting me out of his personal one and into a strictly professional, platonic box. It feels worse than it likely should, since this is the way I usually like it.
Why is Conner so different? Why has he gotten under my skin in such a way?
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I assure him.
“And I appreciate you doing your job in keeping me safe. Is there anything else you need?”
I take a few, deep breaths to calm myself. “Yes. I need to get your prints so I can eliminate them when I get these tested. Has anyone else touched them?”
“Love.”
I nod, already figuring that. “I’ll get her prints, too.”
I grab my kit out of my car then make quick work of getting his fingerprints. I’m certain when I get Love’s, it will come with a lot more commentary.
Once we’re done, Conner washes his hands at the sink. “You think you’ll find anything?”
I don’t want to give him false hope, but I also wish this could be that simple. Whoever sent these probably wouldn’t have accounted for them to be fingerprinted. Midsummer doesn’t even have somewhere to do that here. We have to send out our stuff to a crime lab in Little Rock. Then again, since there are so many crime shows on TV, everyone thinks they’re an expert these days.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I find out if there are any other identifiable prints on there.”
Conner nods, his earlier outburst looking to have drained him. Or perhaps he already was drained.
“If you have trouble sleeping tonight, I want you to call me.”
Conner scoffs as he grabs a towel and dries off his hands. “Why? I’m pretty sure that isn’t part of your job description as town sheriff.”
“Call me, Conner.” I use my stern sheriff voice, which has had many men scrambling to do what I’ve asked. Conner just looks like he’s nonplussed by the tone. “And if you get any other threats, I want to know immediately.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff,” he offhandedly murmurs.
I reach out and tug on his arm, pulling him against me as I cup the back of his neck, holding him there so I can see straight into his wary eyes. “I will find this person, and this will stop. You’re safe here.”
He blinks a few times before I feel him relax in my grip. “Why do I always feel so safe with you?”
“It’s the badge and the huge cock,” I joke, tightening my grip around his neck for a second before I force myself to let him go.
“It’s more than that,” Conner mumbles, his gaze seeming more inward than focused on me.
“I’m going to take these to Little Rock myself and get them checked out,” I tell him, unsure how else to respond to his words.
Conner might think there’s more to his feeling safe than meets the eye. To be honest, there is more to my need to protect him than the usual sheriff protecting a citizen of his town. I just don’t think I’m ready to admit it to myself or him yet. Maybe I never will be.
“Thanks, Rocky,” Conner murmurs softly.
I’m so desperate to pull him into me and kiss him that the only way to stop myself is to put more physical distance between us.
“You’re welcome.” I move around the small space, acting as if I’m just being curious about the area when I’m really placing steps between us. “Any ideas who might have sent them? You pissed anyone off since you got here that you’re aware of?”
“Just King Alder,” he says with a small smile. “And Deputy Dickhead.”
I bite the side of my cheek to stop myself from smiling at his name for Randy while I consider my ex-deputy, wondering if he would stoop to this level. I wouldn’t think so. Then again, I never thought he would hold back critical information on a murder investigation either.
“I’ll speak with Randy; see what he has to say.”
“I’m sure he’ll love that,” Conner mumbles quietly to himself.
“No one else?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I mean, all I’ve been doing is recording videos and uploading them to my socials. Everyone seems pretty happy with the results. The mayor certainly is.”
“She’s hopeful your videos will produce a younger crowd of tourists.” I consider this as a possible motive. “There might be some folks who are resistant to the possible change coming. Maybe they see you as the gatekeeper for letting outsiders in?”
“That doesn’t even make sense. The more people who come here, the more business your town gets. It’s a win for everybody.”
“I know that, but that doesn’t mean this person”—I hold up one of the threats—“feels the same way.”
“So, you’re saying it could be anyone then?”
I sigh. While there are a lot of people who will be happy to see more business come through here, namely the
business owners and their families, there will be plenty who are opposed. More people means more crime and more crowds, and it means change, which many people don’t like.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” I tell him, leaving his words hanging between us.
“How’s River?”
I attempt to not make it outwardly obvious how much it means to me that he asked about her. She has mentioned several times now how much she likes Conner—or as she calls him, Connie—and even asked if he could look after her again. I think she enjoyed his retelling of one of her favorite stories. Also, what kid doesn’t love an adult who is willing to make a fool of themselves purely for their own entertainment?
I like that the affection seems to go both ways. It’s obvious to me that Conner genuinely likes River. I can tell he’s not asking about her or showing interest in her just for my benefit.
“She’s good. She seemed excited to go to school today. I watched her get on the bus and had a teacher text me when she arrived.”
Conner nods, a small smile on his lips. “She’s pretty funny.”
“She liked you. She said she wants to ask me something, but she needs you to be there so you can pay her?”
Conner laughs, and the stress he’s clearly under immediately alleviates, even if it doesn’t last long.
“Right. You might want to try to avoid that discussion. I told her I would pay to see your face when she brings it up.”
I cringe while imagining what kind of question River thought up that has Conner laughing so hard.
“Thanks for the warning. And thank you again for looking after her on Friday. I read to her last night, and she told me I was nowhere near as good as you.”
Conner’s smile turns wistful then. “My mother used to be the best at reading to me and my brother.”
“Used to?”
“She passed away when I was a kid.” His carefree smile from moments ago is completely gone now. “It’s good that you read to her. I think that’ll be a memory she’ll cherish if you keep it up.”
I nod, touched that he’s telling me this. “I will.”
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