by Webster, K
Once in front of the school, I climb out of my Tahoe and head inside. I nod in greeting to the school secretary before letting myself into Brandon’s office where he’s speaking to someone on the phone. A long-legged kid sits sprawled out in a chair in front of him, scowling at his hands in his lap. The first thing I notice about the kid is he smells bad. Body odor that he’s tried to cover up with horrible cologne. His nearly black hair is overgrown and greasy. Dirt is packed beneath the nails of each finger. His skin is pale and he’s too thin. My heart immediately goes out to him.
“Principal Hayworth,” I say as soon as Brandon hangs up.
He lets out a huff of air. “Sheriff.”
The kid’s eyes lift to meet mine. They’re a pale, bluish gray—haunted and empty. Dark circles ring his eyes, lips are cracked, hardened by lines of dried blood, and his cheeks are slightly sunken in.
“Sorry I’m late,” Hank says from behind me as he enters the office. “Got held up in class.” When he sees me, he tips his head. “Sheriff.”
“Coach Townsend.” I cross my arms over my chest, my gaze bouncing between the three of them. “What happened?”
“I found drugs on him,” Hank grumbles. “In the middle of class, he was carrying out a drug deal.”
The kid’s eyes roll and his nostrils flare.
“What’s your name, kid?” I ask, pinning him with a hard stare.
“Cormac Jordan.”
“You were dealing drugs in class?”
“No,” Cormac mutters. “Like I already told Coach Townsend, I was just the middleman.”
“Middleman or not,” Brandon butts in, “you were caught with a bag of oxy.”
“Let me see it,” I say to Brandon.
He fishes out a sandwich bag. There are four pills inside.
“Cormac is eighteen,” Brandon blurts out. “I had to report it.”
“I understand.” I take the bag from him and pocket it. It’ll go into the confiscation locker at the station. “If you were the middleman, who were the other two people?”
Cormac shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know their names. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” I argue. “It could mean the difference between you getting into trouble all by yourself or getting by with a slap on the hand for informing us of the source of where the drugs came from.”
“I’m not a rat,” Cormac barks out, flinching at his own outburst. “Whatever. Can we just go?”
Hank shakes his head at me. “Don’t you think you should ask him?”
“About?”
“I already told you.” Cormac jerks his head toward Hank. “I don’t know the kid.”
“What kid?” I demand.
“Callan Kincaid,” Hank says. “For someone he doesn’t know, I sure see him lingering nearby a lot.” Hank implores with his eyes for me to understand.
He thinks this kid may have been the one to send the nasty note and hurt Callan in the bathroom. I’m not sure I believe it, but I do want to get to the bottom of what Cormac’s problem is.
“Come on, Mr. Jordan. Take a ride with me down to the station where we can get this all sorted out.”
Hank’s shoulders relax and he gives me a reassuring smile. “Thanks, Sheriff.”
Cormac stands and collects his ratty bookbag. I give Brandon a small wave before heading out. Cormac walks beside me, his head bowed.
“Where’s your coat?” I glance over at him. “That thin hoodie won’t do. It’s snowing outside.”
“I forgot mine,” he mumbles.
I let it slide, but as soon as we get inside the Tahoe, I crank the heat up. I’m glad we’re headed to the station because I have several extra coats there. Before we leave, I text Brie to order in lunch and then I drive us to the station.
“Am I going to jail?” Cormac asks, his voice resigned as he climbs out of the vehicle.
I glance over at him. “Do you want to?”
“Ha,” he deadpans.
Chuckling, I open the door and usher him inside.
“Hurry, close the door!” Cato yells from under my desk.
The door closes just as a cat darts for it. Cormac scoops it up, pulling it to his chest.
“Thank God,” Cato grumbles. “I’ve been trying to catch that Houdini for the past twenty minutes. Come here, Sugar Lips.”
“Try naming him something respectable like Smoky and maybe he’ll come to you,” I say to Cato as I reach over to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Is this the cat you’re trying to pawn off on me?”
“Yes. Isn’t he adorable?” Cato bats his lashes at me as though that’ll convince me.
“Very, but I can’t take on another animal. Pirate might get jealous.”
Cato cringes at the name. “Or, maybe she’d love to have a friend. Maybe Brie wants it.”
Brie already has a few of her own pets that Cato forced on her. It looks like Smoky is going to be the newest Bell.
“We’ll figure that out later,” I say to Cato. “You mind running down to Martha Joy’s to see if Brie needs any help with our order?”
Cato’s eyes flicker with understanding. Before he leaves, he says to Cormac, “She sheds like crazy and I haven’t been able to pin her long enough to give her a bath, so she reeks of fish. Feel free to use my shower upstairs and borrow a change of clothes. It’s the least I can do for you catching the mongrel. If you don’t mind, though, stick her in the cat kennel that’s in the main room first so I can bathe her when I get back.”
Cormac’s eyes water. “Yeah, uh, she stinks pretty bad. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
He walks up the stairs with Smoky, leaving Cato with me.
“What’s the story on the homeless kid?” Cato murmurs, his brows knitting together in concern.
“Not sure, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Thanks for that.” I clutch Cato’s shoulder. “Make sure Brie orders a lot. I don’t think he’s had a good meal in ages.”
“If he really is homeless,” Cato says to me with a frown, “let me know. Between Kian and I, we could find him a place to stay.”
“You’re a good man, Cato.”
He smirks at me. “I prefer boy.”
I fight a stupid grin, because so do I.
And I’m back to pining over Dante all over again.
Dante
“I just don’t know what to do, man,” Rhett says, draining his wineglass. “Gary is busting my balls. Each time I feel like I’ve made progress and have the go ahead to continue with the rehab of the building, he throws out another special interest group hearing or meeting with local officials. Maybe I should throw in the towel, cut my losses, and move on.”
I shake my head in vehemence. “You’re better than that dickhead. Don’t let him scare you off. This town needs those condos. Have you seen the shithole that’s old condo row? Plus, if you don’t build them, I’ll be forced to live with my sister forever and watch her parade her boyfriends through there. Throw me a bone.”
“Sure, let me base all my business decisions to suit your needs.” He chuckles. “My attorney is flying up here soon. Maybe he’ll have better options for me because I’m completely out of them.”
“Another round, boys?” Kian chirps, bouncing up to our table, his customer service grin affixed. I don’t miss the slight edge in his tone, though. The guy doesn’t like me because he clearly has a sixth sense about my seeing his ex.
“We’d like that,” Rhett says to him. “Have anything a little more sophisticated than the house wine?”
While they discuss different wine options, I check my phone. Sure enough, I have a missed text from Jax. After last night, the moment was too intense. I needed space. But, now that I’ve had it, I want to see him again.
To get laid and only laid.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
It’s not because I want to kiss his full, pink lips or watch the way they curl into a smile when he sees me or the way his eyes flash with hunger whenever I�
�m near.
Just sex.
Jax: Can I see you?
Me: I don’t know, can you?
I take a picture of my hand around my wineglass. He’s smart and will figure out where I’m at.
Kian says something sassy to Rhett that has him cracking up and drawing my attention. As soon as Kian walks away, he shakes his head.
“What’d I miss?” I lift a brow at him as I pocket my phone.
“Me schooling the millennial on good wine.” His grin is wolfish. “He wasn’t pleased.”
“Always causing trouble in this town?”
“Always.” He turns serious, his brows furrowing. “What’s going on with you? You’re here, but you’re not. Something’s bothering you.”
I rub at the back of my neck and shrug. “Just trying to get shit done at the B&B.”
“It’s more than that. I’m not an idiot.”
Leaning forward, I keep my voice low. “Guy problems.”
“Do tell. You know I’m always curious about your love life. It helps keep my mind off the fact I don’t have one.”
We both laugh. Kian drops off a couple more glasses of wine but rushes off to help another customer, which is fine by me. I don’t care much about getting chatty with my guy’s ex.
My guy.
Fuck. He’s not my guy.
“That’s the face again,” Rhett says, eyeing me over his glass. “You’re practically in pain. Whose ass do I gotta kick?”
“It’s nothing now,” I grunt out, the lie bitter on my tongue. It’s always been a whole lot more than nothing, which makes it all the more frustrating and confusing. “I really liked a guy, but he was in the closet. So far in he’s never coming out. It was fun for a short while. I’m not looking for anything long-term anyway.”
Rhett lets out a huff. “You know I don’t believe that bullshit, right? Everyone’s looking for that someone. I think you’re just trying to convince yourself you’re not. As though it’ll soften the blow somehow.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I admit before taking a gulp of my wine so I can continue, “but even if I did want something long-term with him, it wouldn’t happen. I know where we stand—where we’ll always stand. And that’s hidden in the shadows. It’s just not who I am. The secret fooling around was fun at first. Now I just hate it. I promised a weekend, not a whole damn month.”
“Listen,” Rhett says, leaning in to clutch my shoulder, “you got a bad egg, is all. You deserve to be with someone who’s not going to hide you. But do us both a favor and stop trying to pretend you’re not looking for a long-term companion. You’re catching up to me in years, buddy, and trust me, it sucks to be forty damn years old and alone.” Rhett’s eyes lift and widen as he looks over my shoulder. “Oh, fucking hell. Gary’s gone and done it now. The sheriff is on his way over here and he looks like he’s going to kill me.”
Heat sears down my spine, splintering at my groin and making me tense up. Within seconds, Jax’s formidable presence burns into me from behind.
“Whatever Gary said was bullshit,” Rhett says, holding up both hands like he’s innocent. “And he can talk to my damn lawyer in person because he’s making a special trip here from New York to assist me.”
“You’re Adrian?” Jax asks, his deep voice rumbling through my every nerve ending.
“Nope. Wrong guy. Thank God,” Rhett groans.
I twist around to face the surly sheriff, pleased to see how fucking hot he is when he’s jealous. That’s exactly what this is.
“Good evening, Sheriff,” I say, grinning at him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“What a coincidence,” Jax deadpans, his greedy stare licking over every feature of my face. “Do you have the time to discuss, um, official Chamber business?”
“I’m having drinks with a friend.” I smirk at Jax. “Another night perhaps?”
“Perhaps not.” Jax’s jaw muscle ticks and his brown eyes flare. “It’s pretty damn important, Mr. Kincaid.”
I glance over at Rhett, wincing when I realize he’s putting two and two together faster than I can stop him. The last thing I need is for him to realize Jax is my closet guy.
“Rhett,” I say, forcing a smile his way. “Let’s catch up again soon.”
“Certainly. I’ve got the tab,” Rhett assures me. “Best get out of here. The official Chamber business sounds incredibly important.”
I laugh as I shake his hand. “Keep me posted on the condos.”
Jax waits for me, his body thrumming with energy. Based on the way his eyes never leave my mouth and how he stands too close for “just friends,” I’d say he’s feeling territorial of me. The thought thrills me, but then I immediately squash it.
His intensity sucks me in every damn time. I need to learn how to put up a proverbial wall against it. In his presence, though, that seems impossible. On the way out, Kian watches us with narrowed eyes. Jax is so worried about his secret getting out, but he’s the one who’s always so damn obvious about it.
As soon as I open the door, icy wind slaps me in the face. I groan against the assault. Jax, clearly used to the cruel cold, doesn’t even flinch. He grabs the lapels of my coat and pushes my back against the brick wall of the building.
“Sorry to ruin your date.” His dark eyes flash in a way that tells me he’s anything but sorry. “But you know how important official Chamber business is to us.” He leans forward, pinning my hips with his. We’re both hard for one another.
“As hot as this is, Rhett wasn’t my date. He’s my friend.” I lean forward, inhaling his manly pine scent that doesn’t get lost in the wind. “I only have one fuckbuddy.”
He winces at my words. “I’m more than that to you.”
Tearing my gaze from his, I look up at the cloudless sky. The snow isn’t coming down at the moment, but the weather predicted we’d get more of it this week.
“Dante,” Jax croaks out, his gloved hand cupping my cheek. “We’re more than just fuckbuddies.” His lips brush against mine in a soft, affectionate way that has my heart squeezing painfully in my chest.
I’m so tired of this conversation with him.
“Come on,” Jax barks out. “It’s cold outside.”
It’d be smart to resist him, walk back inside Focus, and continue to chat with Rhett. It’d be the sane thing to do. The less painful thing to do. Instead, I follow him over to his Tahoe. We climb in and he cranks on the heat. As though we’re boyfriends, he reaches over to take my hand, threading our fingers together.
He drives us in the opposite direction of his house and the B&B. I’m surprised, to say the least, when he pulls up in front of the movie theater. It’s not that busy tonight, just a few cars dotting the parking lot.
“A movie?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“A date.”
His grin is devilish, setting my blood ablaze. I shouldn’t be so fucking happy to go on a date with this man. It’s reminiscent of the way I was with Toby. How I got swept up in him, lost sight of reality, and fell for the man. I’m still recovering from that fall. Another fall like that could be a devastating one for me.
“We can watch anything, but there’s a new comedy that looks good. Will Ferrell.” He grabs my hand again, shocking the hell out of me considering how we’re out in the open for anyone to see.
I stop before we make it halfway across the parking lot. “Jax…”
“Don’t ruin it by overthinking it,” he says. “I’m heeding my own advice this time.”
His lips find mine for a kiss. Swift, sexy, sweet. Before I’m ready to let him go, he pulls away and drags me by the hand to the ticket booth outside the theater. A girl with pink hair and a lip ring doesn’t even bother to look up from her phone as Jax tells her which movie and number of tickets he needs. She takes his money and passes over two tickets, all without breaking stride in her rapid one-thumbed texting.
“Damn kids these days are so rude,” Jax mutters once we walk inside.
“The old man lines are mine.”
He laughs as we approach the concession stand. This kid seems to value his job a little more. Jax releases my hand to pull out his wallet. After we order more snacks than necessary for two guys, we head toward our theater. Though I’m appreciating Jax’s attempt to be seen as more than friends in public, I’m thankful for the empty theater where I can have him to myself. We find seats at the very top row in the middle.
All the reservations and stress about us take a back seat as I realize I haven’t dated anyone like this since Toby. Rhett might be on to something. Maybe, as I get older, I crave more stability and companionship. I want to get swept up in the fantasy that this could be the norm for me and Jax. Our sexual chemistry is off the charts, but it’s so much more than that. He comforts me when I’m upset and is protective when he’s afraid for me. We have great banter and laugh often together. It’s nearly perfect.
The movie starts, but as soon as the theater goes dark, we abandon our snacks for each other. His mouth crashes to mine. He tastes sweet like M&Ms.
“Come here, boy,” I rumble, pulling him toward me.
He straddles me in the reclining seat, grinding against me as we kiss. My hands are greedy and I roam them up under his sweater, touching any bare skin I can reach.
“I want to suck you off,” he murmurs against my lips. “Right here. Where anyone could see.”
My dick throbs painfully in my slacks. “Public indecency. Are you trying to get me arrested?”
He nips at my bottom lip. “As long as I’m the arresting officer, then fuck yes.”
I suck in a sharp breath when he slides to his knees between my parted thighs. His hands make quick work of undoing my pants. The moment he pulls out my cock, I think I might explode.
“Put your sexy lips on my dick, Sheriff,” I command, my voice hoarse with need. “I want to see your eyes while you choke on me.”