All she’d had to do was make a joke about that night. Pretend that she was sophisticated. Unfortunately, she’d lost the ability to put together a coherent sentence, much less a smart, hip response to defuse the situation. So she’d taken refuge from his searching gaze and husky voice by whipping out her ticket book from her khaki shirt pocket. Gruffly she’d explained he was illegally parked. She’d only intended to write a warning. But Hogan had flirted. He’d winked and softly said, “Are you sure you don’t want to go someplace private and talk about this, Deputy? Maybe we can work something out?”
That had just increased her panic. In a flash she saw a future she dreaded. He’d finish his job at Murphy’s Cove and shake the dust of this small town. If she yielded to her emotions, he’d leave her with nothing but regret. She’d ripped the ticket out and handed it to him. He’d laughed.
The sound was the match to her fuse. She seared him with a glance and walked around the Suburban, making a pretense of inspecting the lights on the rear of the Burb just to buy her panicked brain more time. In her most official voice, she said, “Your right rear tail light is cracked.”
“Well, gee whiz, Officer,” he said in a parody of a Texas drawl. “You sure as shootin’ better write that up. Can’t let a lawless desperado like me get away with anything.”
His mocking voice spurred her on. Retribution was a bitch with a ticket book in hand. Ripping the second ticket from the book, she handed it to him with a flourish. “As you wish.”
“You must not have been in uniform longer than a nano second, or you’d know you don’t give tickets to other law enforcement personnel. It’s not professional.”
His jeering words burned her. She’d wanted to smack him with her ticket book.
Fortunately, her uncle had arrived just then. It hadn’t taken the Sheriff long to get the picture. He’d tsk tsked a bit, taken the tickets from Hogan, and stuffed them in his pants pocket. She’d known her uncle would tear the tickets up. And he had.
Battle lines were drawn that day. When Hogan dropped by, he alternated between flirting outrageously and treating her like a child. She countered with whatever put-down fit the occasion. She was just counting the days until he packed up and went back to wherever he’d come from. Until then, her best defense was a good offense.
Still, it hurt that her best friend’s mother seemed to side with Hogan. “Grace, you don’t think it’s right for Hogan to act as if he’s above the law, do you?”
“Oh, pish. You’re too young to be such a stickler for rules. Just once I’d like to see you thumb your nose at responsibility.”
Grace’s outburst surprised Susannah. “You make me sound like a, well, like a stick in the mud. A pompous stick in the mud at that.”
“Kids should be kids, but you skipped over that and went straight to adulthood. You’re too serious to moralize like this.”
Surprised, Susannah asked, “Do I really sound so self-righteous?”
“No, hon, no.” Grace smiled and held her thumb and index finger close together. “Well, maybe just a teeny bit. You gotta quit judging people and how they should or shouldn’t act. And quit assuming responsibility for other people. You’ve been doing that since you were seven. It’s time to live your own life. Let others live theirs. Good golly. Have some fun. Stop being as unyielding as a clod of sun-baked mud.”
Grace’s assessment hurt. A lot. Susannah blinked to dispel the sudden moisture that threatened to turn into tears. “I was just saying that Hogan, as a hotshot consultant, should set an example for others.”
“It’s not as if he robbed a bank. All he did was double park.”
“That’s illegal. He was impeding traffic flow. He could have caused a traffic jam.”
“Oh, come on. Not only is this the smallest dang county in Texas, it’s also got the smallest towns. The closest thing to a traffic jam here in Vance was when Cici Rojas’s pet sheep got loose and rammed the plate glass window at the bank.”
Susannah smiled at the memory. She’d been fifteen when the massively overweight Ruffles had made his great escape.
“Now that assault sheep impeded traffic when everybody jumped out of their cars to try to catch him. Would you have written tickets for all of them or joined in the effort to catch Ruffles? I’m just saying that sometimes there might be mitigating circumstances to consider.”
Resignation seeped through Susannah. “You should have been a preacher the way you keep at a person until she admits her sins. All right. Maybe he wasn’t impeding traffic. I’ll even admit, I should have let him off with a verbal warning.”
“You’ve got a bad case of Rookie Cop. Ever hear about pride going before a fall?”
The phone rang again. Susannah decided it was better that Grace thought she was a gung ho rookie than to have her learn the truth. She listened to Grace’s side of the conversation, hoping someone, somewhere, needed a deputy. But the call was from another of Grace’s friends. No escape. The only thing more boring than this job was the small town she couldn’t escape from either. And the only thing more boring than that was her personal life.
In college, she’d had friends. And dates. Though she’d never let any relationship slide into the perilous waters of romance. She sure didn’t have to worry about that here. Eligible men were as scarce as unbroken sand dollars on a Gulf coast beach. Not that she cared, she silently affirmed. She’d decided long ago that all she wanted was a career. She’d be a good cop. If her uncle would give her a chance. She didn’t want romance, but a social life would be nice.
Unfortunately, her high school friends had deserted Vance for the bright lights of Houston or San Antonio. She didn’t blame them. She’d have done the same if it hadn’t been for her mother. Luke Orland, her high school boyfriend, was now a cop down in Murphy’s Cove, but they hadn’t hooked up when she’d come home. To Luke, women were divided into two groups. Those good for sexy fun and games, and those he’d never get between the sheets. She still fell into the latter category.
Boring job. Boring town. Boring personal life. The triple threat was about to do her in.
Maybe it would be more bearable when Paula came home. Grace’s daughter taught at Sam Houston State, the college they’d both attended. When the summer semester ended next week, she’d be home. That might save her sanity.
To Susannah’s annoyance, after Grace finished the latest call, she picked up where she’d left off. “You’ve always been a rule follower, but in law enforcement, professional courtesy is as important as protecting and serving. You don’t write the Mayor’s pal a ticket. Especially when the Mayor runs the richest town in the county. And you sure don’t ticket a cruiser from another police department.” Then Grace spoiled the whole effect of her professional courtesy lecture by giggling like a school girl. “There’s easier ways to get a stud muffin like Hogan to notice you.”
Horrified, Susannah stared at Grace. Surely the woman couldn’t know. “I did not write him a ticket so he’d notice me. Even if the governor declares D. E. Hogan heaven’s gift to womankind, I wouldn’t be interested. He’s not even what I’d call handsome.”
“Well, Susy Q,” a male voice drawled. “I’m mortally wounded. Are you sure you don’t find me appealing?”
The Trouble With Love by Joan Reeves
Book 1:Texas One Night Stands
Available Now
Excerpt, Old Enough To Know Better
Book 1: The Good, The Bad, and The Girly Series
By Joan Reeves
You know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men going astray? Well, Stormy Clarkson decided, the best-laid plans of women old enough to know better didn’t just go astray. They went into some kind of hyperspace wormhole, and, when they came out the other end, they landed on your unsuspecting head like Dorothy’s house crushing the wicked witch.
What was she going to do? She was in over her head, and she knew it.
Her hands shook as she pulled the shimmering red silk dress from the hanger. She
stepped into the dress and pulled it up, slipping her arms through the straps. A lot of women her age avoided showing their arms, but sagging triceps were the least of her problems tonight.
Besides, she’d made exercise her addiction of choice years ago. Not only was it a way to deal with stress but also it helped fill the empty hours of the life she’d chosen.
Chosen?
No. Stop it!
With fierce determination, Stormy reminded herself of certain truths. Now was not the time to fall into that old mental debate. Not tonight. She owned her decisions. She’d moved on. She liked the person she’d become when she’d finally grown up.
You’re just scared.
When she got scared, the temptation to brand an L for loser on her forehead was overpowering. Put a sock in it, she scolded herself.
Stormy zipped her dress then studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was lucky. Sure, she had some tiny lines around the corners of her eyes, but her throat was still firm, as were her legs, and the aforementioned arms. Her boobs didn’t droop. Yet. And her stomach was still flat. Not bad for a woman who turned fifty today. But was it good enough to be naked later with a man younger than she?
No, she couldn’t do it. She was insane to even be thinking about it.
Her hands shook as she pulled the pins from her hair. If only she hadn’t let Libby talk her into this Wine Country Weekend. If only she was at home, alone. Like all the other nights for as long as she could remember. If only she could stop thinking about sex.
Sex with him. With his large hands touching her. Everywhere.
If only she hadn’t kissed him. But the heat in his eyes had drawn her. She felt like a moth that had already made the acquaintance of the flame and was over-heated from the encounter.
Stormy groaned. Heaven help her, but she wanted to be naked in his arms.
What was she going to do? If she had a brain in her head, she’d pack up and leave. Or at least stay in her bungalow and not answer the door.
Run away or stay?
The mirror reflected her indecision. Stormy sighed and smoothed the red silk over her breasts and down her body. A body that seemed to have grown a few million more, ultra-sensitive, nerve endings since she’d met Jack Butler, the owner of the winery.
What would it feel like if Jack touched her like this? A shiver of sexual awareness raced up her spine. The dress made her look as blatantly sexual as she felt.
A knock on the door made Stormy jump. A heavy pulse beat between her legs. Decision time.
Hide or open the door?
Old Enough To Know Better
Book 1: The Good, The Bad, and The Girly Series
By Joan Reeves
Available July 2011
***
Enjoy an Excerpt from
Lady Be Bad by Elaine Raco Chase
Available Now
“Because I’m not going to defer. I’m accepting your challenge.”
“Mimi, it won’t work.”
His authoritative tone increased her courage and strengthened her determination. “Oh, yes, it will.” Her lashes lowered in a dark sweep. “I bet I could seduce you right now.”
Noah moved to cross his arms over his chest, then suddenly stopped to examine his hands, holding them for her inspection. “See these withered, prune-like fingers, that’s an exact duplicate of another part of my anatomy. Besides, I’m exhausted from seducing you all night.”
Marlayna might have demurred if Noah hadn’t capped that blatantly macho comment with a patronizing grin. How like a man to take full credit for a night of pleasure. How clever of a woman to make him think just that! Dipping the loofa sponge back into the percolating, steamy lather, she marshaled every clever wile she possessed and decided to flex a few feminine muscles. “Oh, Noah, you poor man. Here I’ve been babbling on and on about utter nonsense when you needed ministering.”
Startled by her sudden turnaround, Noah inspected her with suspicion. His wariness, however, rapidly dissolved with just one glance. She looked so soft and vulnerable. Her skin was blushing like a dew-kissed pink rosebud; the humidity had tightened her hair into shiny sable and amber ringlets that sculpted her head. A cherub. He gave her a dreamy smile. She was a delightful mix of child and woman with a sweetly innocent face and a gentle, melodic voice.
“Maybe this will help, darling.” Shifting her position in the jetted tub, Marlayna took possession of Noah’s left foot, the one with a direct line to his heart, and balanced it on her bent knee. “I read an article that said invigorating the feet through massage can help eliminate body fatigue and actually revitalize a person’s entire system.”
She used both hands, making sure they were always wet and soapy. Her thumbs massaged firm circles along the callous footpad, moving slowly down the edge of his foot to the thick-skinned heel.
“Mmm, that does feel wonderful.” Closing his eyes, Noah exhaled a grateful sigh and slithered his shoulders further under the water. “My therapist used to do this a lot.”
Marlayna began to make subtle changes in her therapeutic technique. The clinical touching became a much more sensual kneading. The tips of her fingers gently rotated over Noah’s sensitive arch, her nails whispering across his skin. She continued the feather-light stroking until his toes began to wiggle and his leg tensed.
Noah’s brain was late in acknowledging that the hospital therapists had never been able to sensitize his entire body by massaging his foot. He wasn’t quite sure what Marlayna was doing, but he was certainly enjoying it. As a matter of fact, he craved even further exploration. Craved! Noah hastily tightened his leg muscles and tried to stiffen and strengthen his resolve.
He vaguely began to wonder whether she was up to something. Noah opened one eye to check but saw nothing more than a woman concentrating all her effort and attention on his left foot. Toes, actually. Her thumb and forefinger were caressing each digit. Caressing and stroking and rubbing and… No. No, came his sharp mental directive. It’s just therapy. Impersonal. Hands on feet.
He silently chided himself. After all, no one in his right mind could get excited over a foot massage. There was nothing erogenous about a foot. Noah swallowed hard as another little current snaked up the back of his leg and ended up giving his solar plexus a pleasant jolt.
She ran the natural sponge across the bones on top of his foot. “I can feel the ridges. Didn’t they set well?”
“No.” He cleared his throat when that word came out an octave too high. “The doctors didn’t pay a lot of attention to my feet.” Noah dropped a few medical terms here and there while he watched her hands slide along his calf.
The more her fingers caressed his well-muscled flesh, the more incoherent Noah became. Marlayna’s nails danced playfully against the sensitive back of his knees then began tracing the tendon that tensed in his thigh.
Noah tried to swallow a guttural moan, but his pleasure was too exquisite to control. The childlike play that he had always associated with bubbles suddenly turned very adult in this sultry, steamy oasis. He felt her palms move firmly against his hair-roughened, flesh, her fingernails drawing delightful squiggles on that particularly susceptible area high on his inner thigh.
Marlayna decided to diversify and readjusted her position. With the loofa in hand, she swirled the sponge over his flat belly, traveling the path made by the whorls of dark hair that forested his sinewy torso. “You’ve got the body of a young athlete.”
Her hands replaced the sponge, spreading the shimmering lather on his chest and shoulders. Slowly, her wet palms rotated against the tough masculine terrain, the soft pads of her fingers lightly pressed into the whipcord pectoral muscles. “Mmm, very strong, Noah.”
He didn’t think it was possible to be destroyed and restored at the same time, but Noah could feel it happening. His entire body trembled. With every word she spoke, her throaty voice conveyed a seductive message. Her hands roamed all over his body, moving from one spot to another, surprising him by going exactly wh
ere he wanted them to.
He pulled her closer, his large hands sculpting her body. Fingers and palms slithered wetly, tracing the lush curves of her torso, finally settling in the indentation of her waist. Marlayna floated just above him; her full breasts glided against his flesh, the rosy peaks teasingly hidden beneath a lacy cap of bubbles.
“God, woman, you’re driving me crazy.” His hands moved to the satiny globes of her derriere and pressed her rightly into him. “I didn’t think it was possible.” Noah scattered urgent kisses along her jawline to her mouth.
Marlayna turned her face slightly, putting her lips a scant inch away from his. “You didn’t think what was possible?” came her purring inquiry.
Noah nuzzled her neck; the delicate scent of jasmine and roses teased his senses. “You know…” Groaning words were mumbled as his lips sampled the dewy swells of her breast while the lower part of his body tried to merge in a more vital connection.
“Hmmm…yes, I do know,” she whispered into his ear at the same time that her feet began to shuffle backward. “But do you know that I just seduced you and you didn’t laugh once.” Her forefinger tapped his nose. “You didn’t even chuckle.” Delight bubbled in her throat. She watched his lambent brown eyes widen in silent acknowledgment. “I think I’ll give the rest of my plan a try.”
“Hey!” He made a grab for her but missed. “Wait! You can’t go off and leave me like this!”
Marlayna eyed him over her shoulder while she wrapped a pink bath towel around her dripping body. “Oh…poor Noah...” Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. “That’s the same line you used in the back seat of your Maverick when we’d go to the drive-ins.” Her lashes lowered in a provocative sweep. “It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.”
Lady Be Bad by Elaine Raco Chase
On sale now
In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) Page 28