Due Date_A Baby Contract Romance

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Due Date_A Baby Contract Romance Page 40

by Emily Bishop


  The people of this town will learn that soon enough.

  An older couple sits along the window, staring out at the moonlit ocean. A throat clears, and I turn my attention back to my interrogator.

  “I’m sorry, Katie, but once you’ve heard the kind of night I’ve had, you’ll understand.”

  “I don’t think I’m the one you’ll need to get understanding from, but I do love some good goss.”

  I glance at the elderly couple.

  They cut their scallops at a snail’s pace, carefully loading a fork and then taking a bite. Both of them have full drinks. It’s safe to say that at the moment, I can have a talk with my friend. Our eyes meet, hers a dynamic, ocean green-blue color, and I dart my gaze toward a table on the opposite end of the joint. Katie grins and heads in that direction. She pulls out a chair and crosses her legs as she leans in, ready for story time.

  “So, dish! What happened?”

  I inhale, and Katie reaches back to tighten her blond ponytail as her eyes remain bright with anticipation. She looks like a fairy—her face that perfect heart shape, her stature petite. I’ve often wondered why Katie doesn’t have a boyfriend, but I don’t like to pry. That’s Katie’s department.

  I launch into my tale. She gasps appropriately as I tell her the story of my folly on the yacht that ended with me at gun point. I tell her about tough-guy Ben, and how he dragged me to the sheriff’s department against my will for no reason.

  “Wow, really? I’ve heard he’s all about justice. Like, crime is crime is crime with that guy, but if you’re within the confines of the law, he’s nice.”

  I remember Ben’s jacket draped around my shoulders. Then I remember his tongue against my clit.

  Yes. Very kind, indeed.

  “You’re blushing,” Katie says. “Do you like him? He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in town. Last I heard, he’s impossible to nail down.”

  Her word choice has me laughing, and she lifts a curious eyebrow at me. She gazes on, her eyes lighting up when she makes her own deductions.

  “You like him! Wait, you like him? But he arrested you!”

  “Yes. The man is a complete and total ass hat.”

  And a god in the bedroom.

  “There’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”

  Damn her observant nature.

  I want to keep the information to myself, but I also don’t. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex with anyone, much less had a friend to confide in about it. Katie may be a bit of a gossip, but she’s one of my best friends here, and she’ll keep my secrets if I ask.

  “We kind of slept together,” I admit.

  She claps her hands together. Her face is lit with delight. “You bagged the most desirable man in town! Why didn’t you lead with that?”

  “Shh.” I cast a wary glance at the table for two across the way, but they are happily discussing something that hopefully has nothing to do with our own topic. Another couple of patrons walk in then, and Katie stands and greets them. I wait at the table, and I’m about to head back to the kitchen to help poor Paul when Katie returns.

  “I gotta get these folks some drinks, but this is a great thing. You have been so stressed out getting things ready to open this place. Let loose, enjoy yourself! Was it good?”

  My grin answers her question, and she giggles.

  “Yeah, it was!” she says. She lets out a small whistle then heads back toward the kitchens to fill some drinks. I follow her.

  The stovetops are filled with silver pots, clambakes boiling at full blast. Paul turns and looks at me, and I hold up my hands in a placating gesture.

  “I know. I know. I have an excuse, if you’re willing to hear it.”

  “I don’t have time to hear it. Katie just put in three more orders. I hope this came out like yours would, but I’m happy to go back to sous-chef duties now.”

  My stomach churns with guilt, and I nod, stepping up to the oven and taking over so that Paul can get a break. We start cooking in earnest. Katie reports that a group of men has taken up two tables and pushed them together, so we’re almost a full house.

  It’s crazy busy, the world is bustling around me, and I calm right down. I can get so tense and stressed out in the real world, but in my kitchen, no matter how nuts things get, I am all Zen.

  “Order up!” I call out, and Katie zips back, loading her arms with plates of hot, steaming food. She’s gone before I can say another word, and I wipe my brow.

  That completes the orders for the moment, and I turn to look out at the restaurant. I like to watch and make certain everything’s running smooth. Lucky for me, Katie is exceptional at what she does. She’s setting a plate down in front of a greasy-looking guy when he reaches around and grabs her ass, pinching it.

  “Hey, what the fuck?” Katie jerks back.

  My chest fills with anger, and I step out, ready to control the situation.

  “Come on, baby. You know you want it. A girl like you is too cute to go untouched.”

  “Last I checked, consent is ‘in’ right now, asshole.”

  “Last I checked, a woman wants it whether she says so or not. Now why don’t you come over here and take a little ride on Skippy’s lap.”

  “Back off, Skippy,” I say, standing next to Katie. I can feel her relief at my presence, and it serves only to increase my annoyance. I’m protective of my staff. No one is allowed to fuck with them, or with me. Not in my restaurant.

  Skippy eyes me up and down. He’s lean, with stringy brown hair and torn-up, patchy clothing. He’s the kind of guy I don’t want in my place, period, and I’m looking forward to kicking him out permanently. Him and his little cronies.

  “Fuck you, lady. My boys and are I enjoying the fish. We love the taste of fish, don’t we, boys?”

  He leers at his friends, and they all laugh at his crude joke. My gaze darts around the room.

  We’re slowly gaining the attention of the other customers. If I get a reputation for housing bad eggs in here, I’m finished. I need people to want to come here, to feel safe here.

  “This is my restaurant, boys. I don’t allow vulgar behavior in here, and I’m afraid you’re wearing out your welcome. Now pay up for the food, and then leave.”

  I cross my arms, my stance spread in case I need to take some kind of action. Not like I can. I hate this kind of confrontation, and I’m not exactly a fitness model here.

  I have some moves for getting people out, though, and I think about Ben’s expert hold on me as he dragged me to the car. If I ever talk to him again, I’ll have to ask how he did that. It was minimal effort on his end, and it had me fully bound.

  I wish I knew more moves like that.

  Skippy is unmoved by my bravado. He stands up, towering over me. His beady black eyes bore into mine, and his hand drifts to his side. For the first time, I notice a knife strapped to his hip.

  Shit.

  He jeers at me. His breath smells like rotten teeth and old fish, and I gag. Better not to puke all over him. I don’t want to ruin my patrons’ appetites, after all.

  “Don’t fuck with me, girlie,” he hisses. A fleck of spit lands on my face, and I wipe it off.

  “Or else what?” I ask. I shouldn’t have. What am I thinking? He leans even closer, but I stand my ground. I will not back down on my own turf.

  “Or else I’ll have to fucking kill you.”

  6

  Ben

  I smell like sex. Is James going to notice? Shit, he’ll judge the fuck out of me or, more likely, find a way to report me so he can look good.

  I like James. I do. He’s been a good partner and a reliable officer. I just don’t fully trust him.

  Part of being a former soldier, I suppose. Sometimes, it’s impossible to trust anyone.

  I slide back into my jacket. The subtle scent of tide water reaches my nostrils. I might always associate Naomi with the sea after tonight.

  Naomi.

  I am such a goddamned idio
t.

  I should have controlled myself. I should have walked away. Instead, I had sex with the woman right on her front doorstep, where anyone could have caught us.

  I need to get my fucking act together.

  It’s not like it’s particularly easy to find a woman looking for a good time in this town. Generally, the number of young people is fairly limited. The number of younger, single people even more so. There are plenty of young families—people who left, got an education, and came back up to raise their kids how they were raised. It’s a good community, but it’s a small one.

  People talk in a small town. I’m sure people would love to hear all about the sheriff banging a woman right in front of the docks. Yeah, that would go over great.

  Fucking moron move.

  I can’t fully hate myself, though. Naomi’s round, perfect ass comes into my mind’s eye, and for the act itself, I have no regrets. That was one of the best fucks I’ve had in a long time.

  It’s been ages since I’ve touched a woman. Coming back here, it made much more sense to focus on my work and stay out of any kind of entanglements. Based on her behavior right after, I’m confident that this isn’t going to be a complicated thing.

  Maybe she’ll be game for another round, no strings attached.

  The woman is irresistible. She’s gorgeous, she’s completely full of shit, which I love, and she’s got a fiery spirit, which I deeply respect. One could argue that she’s the full package, but no one is perfect.

  After all, I did find her washed ashore after a yacht got stolen, and I still don’t have any answers. This reminder makes me grumpy, and I scowl as I park my car back at the station and walk inside. James is behind the desk, per usual, and he glances up.

  “I take it our suspect got home safe and sound?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that ticks me off. I still can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

  “Yep. Any leads on the theft?”

  “No, but dispatch received a call from an angry voter who’d like a word with you, when you’re ready to make the call.”

  I repress a sigh.

  I don’t want to call the yacht owner. I don’t feel like getting shit on because she didn’t lock up her boat effectively enough. I’m not in the mood for it. I could delegate the glorious task to James, but this is my job.

  I nod to him and step into my office. It’s nothing special. A bare, wooden desk takes up the majority of the space. The walls are white with no pictures, and there’s a gray file cabinet on the opposing wall.

  Simple. Just how I like it. A black phone sits ominously on the desk, and a red light blinks in the top corner of the device.

  Fuck me.

  I pick up the phone and listen to the angry woman berate me via voicemail before I call her back.

  “How could you let something like this happen? I thought Stoneport was supposed to be a safe town! Why aren’t you doing your job?”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, no one is safe from burglary when they leave the keys to the castle on the front porch.”

  “How dare you?” she hisses. She launches into another tirade, asking if I have any idea who I’m talking to. I’ve heard it before. When you live where the rich come to vacation, you adjust to entitlement pretty quick.

  “Ma’am, we’re on the case. I’m not letting the culprit get away. You can bet on that.”

  “This isn’t a gamble, Sheriff. This is my expensive private property. You’re fortunate that I have insurance on the thing, but it is invaluable to me. I demand that you find it at once!”

  I’m not in the mood for asshole millionaires telling me how to do my job. “I’ll be in touch when we have more information. Until then, I suggest you call your insurance company. Good evening.”

  I hang up the phone, not bothering to wait for a response. I don’t need one. In spite of the woman’s attitude, justice will be served. Whoever stole that boat will be taken down by me, and me alone. I don’t like being taken for a fool, and that asshole stole something from my town right under my nose.

  They won’t be lost for long.

  I reach my arms behind my neck and stretch my back. My stomach grumbles. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. My mind drifts back to Naomi and her restaurant.

  I want to have dinner there, see her again.

  I have no reason not to. She did say that I should know more about my town, and while I knew a place had opened up on the coast, I never found the time to visit it. If I had, I might have met Naomi sooner. I might have a better idea of her character.

  I might have fucked her weeks ago.

  It’s a strange thought but a true one. Her face dances through my mind, her dark brown eyes piercing and fierce, challenging my every word. I should hate that, but with her, I don’t. I might actually crave it. I wonder what her reaction to me will be moving forward, and I’m determined in this moment to find out.

  I open my office door and step back out. James looks up from his computer, and his lip curls slightly.

  “Pleasant call?” he asks.

  “You know exactly how it went. You hungry?”

  “I could always eat.”

  “Have you tried that new place, down by the water?”

  “That seafood place? I’ve heard of it from Katie, but I’ve never been inside.”

  I watch him carefully. He shifts uncomfortably at the mention of Katie—is there something going on between them? I don’t ask.

  “Let’s try it out,” I say, and James rises, turning off his computer. This yacht robbery is the most exciting thing to happen in this town since before I returned from the Special Forces.

  I hate that it happened under my watch.

  We slide into a cruiser, and I drive us back down the same road I just took. I’m still a little stunned that I had sex today, and to my surprise, I’m anticipating seeing Naomi again. In fact, I can’t wait.

  I frown.

  I don’t like this. It doesn’t feel right. Or maybe it feels right, but I don’t remember what right feels like. Either way, I don’t feel good about it. Maybe I’m making a mistake by coming here. It’s too late to turn back now, though.

  I pull into the parking lot, and I note the increased number of cars in the lot, as well as a grouping of motorcycles.

  I don’t like the look of those.

  We step out into the cool night. A burst of wind swirls around us as we walk to the front door.

  I swing it open and step inside, James close behind me. I take in the room for danger. I can’t help it. It’s a habit I haven’t been able to break.

  There’s an air of tension inside.

  Everyone at every table gives the side eye to a group of degenerates. These must be the bikers. Naomi’s back is to the door, but her posture is tense, her stance defensive. She’s facing a rough-looking guy as he towers over her.

  My training kicks in. I note every threat around them. I take in their clothing, their proximity to other patrons, and, most importantly, the knife slung around the man’s waist.

  To Naomi’s credit, she’s standing her ground quite well. I can’t wait to tell her what a moron she’s being.

  “Well, James,” I say, raising my voice to be heard loud and clear. “It looks like we have some aggressive intruders in Miss Greeves’ restaurant. And here I was, just wanting to enjoy some hot clams.”

  It works. The man’s attention darts to me, and his eyes narrow with hatred. I love being hated by men like this, and I know exactly what pisses them off. I stroll over and tower over him, taking full advantage of my height as he did to Naomi moments before.

  “You causing trouble, punk?”

  “I don’t recall anyone calling in the pigs,” he snarls back at me.

  I keep my cool. This is a peaceful town and causing a scene could damage Naomi’s business as well as disturb the people I’m charged with protecting.

  “No one did, but it’s lucky we showed up. I believe Miss Greeves was kindly showing you out.”

  I hav
e no idea if this is true but based on her posture when I walked in, it’s a fair gamble.

  “She has no right to kick us out. We’re paying her for the food!”

  “And yet I don’t see a single dollar on the table.”

  His hand twitches, and I’m ready. My gun is strapped to my side. If I have to, I can bring a gun to a knife fight. I don’t feel like scaring anyone tonight, though. I remember my uncle’s words, that this town values peace over all things, and I plan a few other tactics.

  “You stay out of our business, cop,” he says, poking me in the chest.

  That’s the last straw. I twist his arm and slam his face against the table. His posse stands, ready for a fight, but James shouts at them to get back. He turns so they can see his gun better, and that gives them pause.

  “Here’s what’s about to happen now, pal,” I say into this weasel’s ear. “You’re going to lay a pile of cash on this table, and you’re going to get. If you don’t, I will arrest you for trespassing and resisting arrest.”

  “Fuck you, man,” he replies. I reach into his pants pocket, and he jerks, trying to shake me off. I pull out a wallet and remove every bill from it—several hundred dollars.

  “That’s a mighty generous tip you’re giving. I’m sure the establishment is grateful.”

  I lift him from the table and lead him to the door.

  “James, if you don’t mind?”

  “With pleasure,” he says, opening the portal. I cast a meaningful glance at the dude’s cronies, and they get the message. They pour out of the place, and I shove their ring leader outside.

  “Come back again, and I’ll fuck you up. Get it?”

  “You’ll regret that. You think I don’t know people? You better watch your back.”

  “Uh huh. Fuck off.”

  I turn back inside and wait a minute, and then I look out the window. The gang is gone, the sound of motorcycle engines revving hits my ears before they dissolve into the night.

  I turn back to look at Naomi, and she’s glaring at me.

  “I had it under control. I didn’t need your help.”

 

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