by Emily Bishop
“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.”
Chapter Six
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 idiot.
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 mi
ght 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 have 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.”
“Really? Because when I walked in, a gang member with a knife was about to kill you. You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t thank you,” she hisses, then looks around. She’ll be a source of some juicy gossip for at least the next two weeks, and she knows it, too.
She gives the room an apologetic smile. “You can never know how long it takes to weed out the unsavory ones before they get the message. All is well now. Free cheddar biscuits for everyone?”
The room bursts into good cheer again, the tension gone. Except from Naomi, who nods at the door. She wants me to join her there, and I consider staying put, just to piss her off, but I change my mind. I want her talking. The more she talks, the more I learn.
When I reach the door, she whispers at me, her voice filled with anger.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was hungry. Don’t you ever get hungry?”
“Are you surveilling me?”
It’s a fair question, and not far from the truth. I don’t think that was my original purpose, but deep down, it might have been part of my intention.
“I’m having dinner with my friend. You remember James,” I say, gesturing toward the lieutenant.
His eyes dart between us as some kind of understanding dawns in them. I don’t know what he thinks he understands, but he’s wrong. I see my mistake now. Part of me wanted to see her again, and that increases my annoyance.
“I see we might have come in error. Perhaps burgers will make a better choice. Apologies for saving your life.”
“You didn’t save my life!”
I walk out, and James follows. Likely, he wants to talk about this, and I won’t let him. I slide into the car and speed away toward a fast food place, but my mind is still behind me.
There’s still time tonight to get information out of Naomi, and I’ve got at least one more try in me.
Chapter Seven
Naomi
The rest of the night goes off without a hitch. I get a lot of compliments on my cheese biscuits, and I hope they’re enough to get everyone to forget the little altercation with Skippy and his little group of friends. The last thing I need is people spreading the word that unsavory people frequent my joint and it’s unsafe to eat at. If that happens, I might as well try my luck back in Chicago, even though I love being back home more than anything.
A young couple finishes their lobsters and pays their bill, and, to my great relief, this night has come to an end. This day has felt like an eternity. Somehow, I managed to get arrested and released and still make it to work to finish out the night.
All in all, I’d call that dedication.
“Whew! My feet
are killing me,” Katie says. She turns a chair around and plops down into it, resting her chin along the back. Her expression grows serious as she looks at me.
“Hey, thanks for what you did tonight, standing up for me. That was awesome. You looked like a Greek goddess standing up to that guy.”
I laugh at the comparison. I pull a bottle of red wine from the rack and pop it open. I pour two healthy glasses and hand her one.
She holds it up in a toast. “To surviving the scourge of this town and preserving the integrity of this restaurant!”
“Hear, hear,” I agree, and I clink her glass with enthusiasm. The crystalline sound echoes across the empty room.
“And to knights in shining armor,” she adds with a gleam in her eye. “May they always show up exactly when we need.”
My brow furrows at this addition, and I don’t raise my glass.
“I didn’t need any help. I was about to shove that guy’s ass right out the door.”
“Uh huh,” Katie replies, taking a drink. She pulls out a wad of bills and starts counting her tips, which are much larger than usual, thanks to Skippy’s pile. I take a sip of wine, but I don’t finish the glass. I’m too on edge to drink, even though it seemed like a good idea at first.
I slide my glass over to Katie. “Here. Have a party.”
“You leaving? What a slacker,” she teases, and I grin back at her as I head toward the kitchen.
“You’re right, but after the months it took to get this place running, I think I’ve earned the right to slack every once in a while.”
“Or to have some romance,” she retorts, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“The wine is clouding your judgement. I’m leaving before it gets worse.”
The sound of her laughter resounds behind me as I bid goodnight to poor Paul, who has been the soul of patience this evening even with my absence. I thank him for being such a great team player, and he nods, his eyes warm at the praise. I have a soft spot for Paul, because he reminds me of my brother. I look out for him, as I would Alex.