After a few minutes, I hear the sound again. It’s a rustling, or rather crunching, of leaves. I wonder if larger animals get this close to the town. I don’t think I want to find out. Clutching my blanket, I head inside. In the kitchen, I down the rest of my wine, wash the glass, and walk to my room. I suddenly feel tired, and there’s a strange buzzing in my head. I only had one glass of wine, so I know I’m not drunk. Must be a headache coming on. I remove my robe, do a few stretches, and climb under the covers.
***Ethan***
My heart pounds in my ears. My heavy breathing—or panting would be a better word—inflates and deflates my chest at an alarming rate. Look at me! Lurking in the woods like a common stalker. I arrest people for less than what I’m doing now. I can’t help it, though; I needed to see her. She almost saw me, too. It’s a good thing I’m fast. I circle the house, watching her move inside. She’s so beautiful, so graceful. A lump rises in my throat as she removes her robe. She stretches her hands above her head, and the T-shirt she’s wearing rides up, making her bare legs glisten in the light from her lamp. I see a hint of her underwear and almost howl in desperation. Then, I sense another wolf heading my way. Charlie. I assume the dominant posture, tail up, legs stiff, ears erect and forward. In this form, our communication is telepathic, so I address him without turning around.
What are you doing here, Charlie?
I’m your beta, where else would I be?
This doesn’t concern you.
You can’t be here, Ethan.
I spin to face him, my anger rising.
You think I don’t know that? I changed, and I didn’t even know where I was going until I got here. I’ve always been able to control him, but….
I turn back around, desperate to catch one last glimpse of her, but her lights are out.
Let’s go, Ethan.
Head down, I quietly follow behind him.
***Casey***
“Casey, darlin’, how ’bout another one?”
With a smile, I look up from wiping down the bar. “Anything for you, Jeff.”
I grab a Budweiser and add it to his tab. Carlene slips by me with her tray and begins loading it up.
“Two Buds, a Sam Adams, and a whiskey for nine,” she says hurriedly.
“Got it.”
I take a few seconds to look around the room. This was a great idea. Rusty, the owner of The Round-up, wasn’t too keen on it initially, but now he’s walking around with a huge grin and greeting customers. This is the busiest the bar’s been since I started working here a month ago.
“Casey! Another round!” Carson shouts from his table.
“Comin’ up.”
I pour six shots of tequila and hustle them over to him and his friends. As I pass table five, I do a little spin to avoid Cliff and his wayward hands. He’s always trying to grab my ass.
“You’re not driving tonight, are you, boys?” I ask.
They all look at me with huge grins and glazed over eyes.
“No, ma’am,” Carson answers.
“Well, just let me know if you need help gettin’ home.”
“Sure thing.”
As I turn to head back to the bar, a strange shiver runs down my spine, and an unknown force draws my attention to the right. That’s when I notice the three men standing at the door.
***Ethan***
Charlie places his hand on my shoulder as a form of restraint. I almost ran over and ripped Cliff’s arm off when he’d tried to grab her. I take a deep, calming breath. Down, boy. It’s been almost a month since she walked into my office, and she hasn’t left my thoughts for a second. I tried to rid my mind of her, thought maybe I was wrong and she isn’t the one. It was no use. Now that I’m in her presence again, and the buzz in my brain is back, I never want to leave her side. She turns to face me and a sultry smile teases her lips. My eyes roam over her as she walks toward me. Heat rises to my neck as I absorb her denim shorts, a few inches from being indecent, and her stomach-baring green tee. Her hair is in pigtails, both sides falling down over her breasts. God, she’s beautiful!
“Well, well… I was beginning to think you boys weren’t going to accept my offer.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. Thankfully, Charlie steps up.
“We’ve just been a little busy.”
“You couldn’t have chosen a better night to come.”
“Why’s that?” Brick asks.
“Well, Mr. Brick Castle, it’s ladies’ night. Plenty of options for three hot bachelors like you.” Turning her attention to me, she places a hand on her hip. “Cat got your tongue, Sheriff?”
“Just… taking in the scene,” I answer, finally finding my voice. “I’ve never seen this place so busy.”
“Come by the bar and I’ll get y’all somethin’ to drink.”
She bounces off, and I watch as she makes her way around the crowded room. She’s got a perfect ass. No—everything about her is perfect. Back behind the bar, she walks up to us.
“Let me guess.” She points to Brick. “Beer… Charlie, bourbon… And you…” She looks into my eyes with a smile that lights up my world. “Scotch, single malt.”
She’s right. I rarely drink, but when I do, it’s always scotch. “Very impressive, Miss Bryan.”
“Why, thank you, Sheriff.” She leans in toward me, her smile turning seductive. I hold my breath because I don’t think I could control myself if I got a whiff of her up close. “It’s one of my many, many talents.”
She winks and turns away. Charlie kicks my leg, and the breath I was holding comes whooshing out. I need to get a grip. I’m behaving like a hormonal teenager. But how can I not, when she’s bending over, and I can almost see her ass cheeks?
This is going to be a long night.
***Casey***
Hmm… the sheriff is looking mighty scrumptious tonight. He walked into the bar, and all the other men here faded into insignificance. He dominates the small space, looking ten feet tall next to everyone else. I have to say, he’s crossed my mind more than a few times these last couple of weeks. His blue plaid shirt is tucked neatly into his faded jeans, and every strand of hair is in place. My fingers are just itching to mess it up. I know he’s watching me; he hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he got here. I drop my pen and intentionally bend at the waist to give him a little show. Grabbing a Bud and the whiskey bottles, I walk back to the end of the bar. When I get there, that woman is there, the one who wouldn’t help me at the sheriff’s office. I fix a smile on my face.
“Here you go, boys.”
I snag two glasses from under the bar, add ice, and pour the drinks. I quickly glance at the woman. She looks pretty nervous and out of place. Aww hell.
“It’s Mary, right?”
Her gaze falls to the floor. “Yeah.”
“What can I get you, Mary?”
“Um… a beer, I guess.”
“You mind if I suggest somethin’ for you?” I ask.
“Go ahead,” Brick encourages her. “She knows what she’s doing.”
Her eyes dart to him nervously then she nods. I study her carefully. She’s pretty, something one probably wouldn’t notice without scrutiny; she just needs to pay more attention to her appearance. Her brown hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, and she looks down so much, you can barely see her hazel eyes. She’s dressed like her co-workers—jeans and a shirt. Her jeans are two sizes too big and her top is obviously a man’s. She’s a little plump. Maybe that’s why she seems so uncomfortable. She just needs a little confidence.
I walk away and start grabbing ingredients—vodka, gin, tequila, rum, triple sec, cola, and sour mix. I could make this drink in my sleep. After scooping ice into a glass, I add the spirits, watching her as she looks around timidly. What’s wrong with her? You’d think she’d be more comfortable since she probably knows everyone here. I need to loosen her up. Change of plans. I’m going to eighty-six the traditional Long Island Iced Tea. I put away the triple sec, cola, and sour mix, an
d grab a lemon and the blue curacao. I squeeze half the lemon into the glass with the spirits and cover it with the shaker. In another glass, I add ice and the curacao. I give the other mixture a good shake, strain it into the glass, and give it a stir. I garnish it with a wedge of lemon, add a straw and place it in front of her.
She looks down at it with a sneer. “It’s blue.”
“Just try it,” I tell her.
The men turn to her as well, and we watch as she takes a sip. Her eyes widen, and she takes another.
“It’s good. Really good.”
She smiles for the first time tonight, and I decide to make it my personal mission to ensure she has fun. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel good… or maybe it’s the smile of approval on the sheriff’s face.
“Sip slowly, darlin’. It can get to you real fast,” I warn.
Nodding, she goes back to her drink. Hmm… I just noticed I’m even starting to sound like everyone else around here. Where has my New York accent gone?
“Are you boys gonna sit here all night?” I ask. “Find a lady and get on the dance floor!”
I grab the air horn from under the bar and let it rip. Everyone stops what they’re doing and turns toward me.
“Listen up, folks! Looking at all the beautiful people in this room, there is no reason why everyone shouldn’t be on the dance floor!” They respond with loud hollering and hooting. “It might be ladies’ night, but it’s raining men. So, ladies, let’s… get… wet!”
The women scream and there’s an immediate exodus to the dance floor. My job is done.
***Ethan***
Checking my watch, I note I’ve been sitting here watching her for about two hours. She’s a master at what she does, making it seem easy. What hasn’t been easy is watching her flirt and get hit on constantly. Charlie has been keeping me in check, or I probably would have killed all the men in here already. She’s been busy, hasn’t even looked my way the entire time. Now, she’s walking toward me.
“Sheriff, why aren’t you on the dance floor along with your deputies?”
I glance over at Brick and Charlie, who both have women fighting for their attention. Even Mary’s out there. Whatever was in those drinks surely took her insecurity away. I turn back to Casey.
“Because you’re busy.”
She doesn’t even look surprised. She smiles then looks down the bar.
“I think I can spare a few minutes right now.”
She hops up on the bar and swings her legs over. Before she can jump off, I grab her waist and lift her down. She giggles, grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. Her touch burns my skin. God, I hope I’ll be able to control myself. By the time we get there, Darius Rucker is singing the chorus of “Wagon Wheel.” She releases my hand and turns to face me, swinging her hips and rolling her chest. She mouths the lyrics of the song, changing “Mama” to “Daddy.” I watch her body as she moves, imagining her doing the same thing on top of me… naked. With her bottom lip between her teeth, she gives me some serious bedroom eyes, beckoning me with her index finger. She’s so fucking hot. Grabbing her hand, I tug her to me. She giggles and turns around, pressing her delectable ass to my crotch. I place my hands on her hips, praying for the strength to keep my composure when her fingers stroke the back of my neck. The roll of her hips calls to my dick, and it answers swiftly and willingly.
I can’t afford to scare her off with a massive boner right now. I reach into my brain for what I call the “boner killer”—walking in on my parents having sex on the kitchen counter. It works like a charm every time. With that taken care of, I concentrate on her movements, moving in sync with her. Inclining her head to the right, she lays it on my shoulder. I lower mine, trail my nose along her neck, and take a healthy whiff of her blood-boiling scent. She draws in a shaky breath and places her hands on top of mine. Oh, shit—all the boner killers in the world can’t help me now. My dick begins to harden, and she presses harder into me. She bends at the waist and the image of fucking her just like this takes over my brain. Fuck! I feel like my erection just might rip through my jeans. As she slowly straightens, she rolls her hips.
She turns to face me, moving her hands to my shoulders. I wrap an arm around her waist and stare into her exquisite green eyes.
“For such a big man, you move well.”
“It’s all about my partner,” I reply.
“Is it now? Are you saying if you were dancing with, say, Mary, you’d be stepping all over her toes?”
“Without a doubt.”
I twirl her around, pull her back into my arms, and then hold her hand against my chest. Thank God she’s chosen not to comment on the prodding her stomach is currently receiving.
“You’re funny, Sheriff.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“I know. That makes it even better.”
Leaning in, she lays her cheek on my chest. It’s cliché, I know, but she fits perfectly against me. With her head resting comfortably under my chin, I take a deep breath. Beneath all the alcohol and smoke from the bar, her hair smells like fresh peaches. The beast in me is fighting for control. Down! He retreats, but I don’t know how long I can keep him at bay. I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the feeling of her swaying against me. Way too soon, the song ends and she pulls away.
“I gotta get back to work, Sheriff. Thanks for the dance.”
“No. Thank you.”
I hope she doesn’t see my disappointment. Before she walks off, she stands on her toes and whispers in my ear.
“I get off at twelve.”
***Casey***
Goddamn, that sheriff is too hot! I had to get away before I had my way with him right there on the dance floor. His body felt incredible against mine, all hard and strong. I can just imagine what it feels like completely naked. And Oh. My. God… that fucking hard-on! He can definitely do some damage. I can see us clearly—hot, sweaty, passionate sex… and then repeat. I just know once wouldn’t be enough. He looks like the kind of guy who would pick me up, slam me against the wall, and fuck me senseless.
Fuck, I need a bucket of ice. Just thinking about it has got me worked up. He might be just what I need to relieve a little stress; Lord knows I am not looking for a relationship. I run to the back and get an ice-cold glass of water. The door bursts open and Janice hustles in, wide-eyed.
“Casey, how did you do that?”
“What are you talking about, Jan?”
“How did you get the sheriff to dance with you?”
“He sort of asked me.” I shrug.
“He never does that. On the rare occasions he does come here, he has a few drinks then leaves. He never smiles, doesn’t talk to anyone, and definitely doesn’t dance.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not. People around here are kind of scared of him.”
“Scared? He seems like a nice guy to me.”
“He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong,” she says. “He just… doesn’t socialize much.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
Very interesting… even though I think she’s blowing things out of proportion. I have never seen a less scary man in my life.
“Doesn’t even date women from around here. Always some gorgeous, model-type from Hollywood or wherever.”
“As hunky as he is, he’s a small-town sheriff. I highly doubt his women are models and actresses.”
“Fine. Don’t believe me. But if anyone can reel him in, I know it’s you, Casey.”
“I’m not trying to reel anyone in.”
“Mm-hmm. Just promise me you’ll tell me how good the sex is. A man like that….”
She closes her eyes, shivers, and draws a shaky breath. With a giggle, I pat her on the shoulder as we make our way back to the bar.
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, Jan.”
By the time my shift ends, I’m dog-tired, and my feet ache something fierce. However, we made a killing tonight, and Rusty is open to trying some of m
y other ideas. I’ve already expanded our drink offerings, but I want to do much more. I tuck my tips into my pocket and kiss him on the cheek.
“Good night, Rusty. See you tomorrow.”
“G’night, darlin’.”
I was a little disappointed when the sheriff left, but it’s probably a good thing he did. I don’t think I’d be up for any action in my current state. When I walk through the doors, I find him in the parking lot, leaning against a shiny black GMC pickup truck. I guess he didn’t leave after all.
He smiles as I walk over to him.
“If it ain’t the sheriff. I thought you left.”
“No. I’ve been here… waiting for you.”
“Well, here I am.”
“Where’s your car?” he asks, looking around the parking lot.
“Oh, it was such a beautiful night I decided to walk.”
Which I now regret. I don’t know if I can take another step. This is why they say hindsight is perfect. But it looks like I have a ride.
“So, you were planning on walking home?” He raises a brow.
“Yeah.”
“I can’t have you walking alone at this time of night.”
“I walked the streets of New York City at this time of night, and I managed. I think I can handle the mean streets of Canid.”
He straightens to his full height and clenches his jaw. As he opens the passenger door, he gives me a look that he probably gives to criminals. Despite the fact that he looks menacing, I still don’t think he’s scary. Jan was so exaggerating.
“Get in. I’m taking you home.”
Well, damn. Aren’t you bossy?
“When you put it like that, how can I refuse?”
His face relaxes, and he flashes a beautiful smile. I climb in and watch as he makes his way around to the driver’s side.
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