by Kimbra Swain
As if on cue, the bar door swung open, and Mr. Sandy Hair came in from the cold. His brilliant blue eyes flashed when he met my eyes. When his smile stretched across his face, I was undone. He never looked at Levi or Kady when they greeted him. Striding forward to the bar next to me, he tapped on it lightly as Nestor poured him a warm cup of coffee. He dumped two spoons of sugar into it and took a sip.
“It’s cold enough to freeze the tits of a frog,” he exclaimed. Levi and Kady laughed.
“Frogs don’t have tits,” I said, not looking at him.
“I beg your pardon, my Queen,” he said, insisting on referring to me in that infernal way. “But I do remember a biology class long, long ago where were dissected a frog, and it most certainly had tits.”
“You were never in a biology class,” I proclaimed, finally looking up at him.
Leaning over to whisper in my ear, he said, “Five seconds.”
“You can’t do anything meaningful in five seconds,” I replied.
“Please,” he begged. I melted.
“Five seconds,” I said, starting to count silently in my head. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and I could feel the radiating warmth of his body. Pressing his lips to my cheek, he pulled away the moment I reached five in my head.
As chills ran down my spine, I gulped. Five seconds was plenty to make the fairy whore inside of me turn cartwheels.
“Meaningful?” he asked.
More than I’m willing to admit. “I suppose,” I replied flippantly. He sat down on the stool next to me and watched Levi hanging lights around the room.
“The tree looks good,” he said.
“Yes, once Levi got it straight, I agree that it does look mighty fine,” I declared. Levi grinned at my admission that he’d done a good job. Kady rubbed his shoulder drawing his attention away from us.
“You get your paperwork done?” I asked.
“I just picked it up. I’ll work on completing it after the holidays,” he said.
The bar door swung open again, and the new sheriff, Troy Maynard walked bringing a wave of cold with him.
“Lord have mercy. Shut that door, Troy. You are letting the heat out,” I proclaimed.
“Grace! I’ve been looking for you,” he said exasperated. I looked down at my phone, but I hadn’t missed a call. He noticed, “I didn’t call. I figured you’d be here. Oh, hey Dylan.”
“Troy,” Dylan acknowledged him. Dylan used to be the sheriff until his involvement with me got him suspended and like the romantic moron that he was, he quit his job for me. I adored him for it, but refused to admit it. Either way, he knew. I hoped.
“I need you to come down to holding. We’ve got a guy down there who we dragged out of Deacon Giles’ field. He’s demanding to see the Queen and raising hell. Will you please come talk to him?” he begged.
“She can’t just show up for every misguided fairy,” Dylan protested. Laying my hand over his, I squeezed.
“What was he doing in the field?” I asked.
“Terrorizing the livestock,” Troy replied.
“You mean he was, um, doing it with them?” I asked. My mind wallowed in the gutter. Fairy.
“No! Not that. He was chasing the sheep, making the goats faint and tipping the cows,” he sighed.
“Sounds rather fun to me,” I giggled as Dylan poked me in the side. “Come on, let’s go talk to a fool.”