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“Helped her out, huh?” Mav said as he reached across the table and opened the box. “You help her by loaning her your dick?”
I wish.
“No, asshole, carried some shit into her apartment. Not all of us are fucking pigs.”
With a mock hurt gasp, Mav bit into a peanut butter cookie. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Holy fuck,” he said. “I don’t care where you got these or what you had to do to get them, you need to get more. For me. Hundreds more. These are the shit.” He jammed the rest of the cookie into his mouth and let out a muffled groan as he reached for another.
That one sound was all it took for the rest of the vultures to descend on the box. Cops forgotten, within minutes, only crumbs remained and every man in the room was alternately munching and groaning.
“Shit,” Mav said when he’d finally polished off his third cookie. “Someone should record this. There’s gotta be cookie porn out there somewhere. With all this moaning and shit, we could make a lot of money. Anyone wanna take their shirt off?”
LJ ground his teeth together. The thought of another man being even partially naked while eating Holly’s baked goods had him feeling somewhat murderous.
Shit. Clearly, he needed sleep. And probably to get laid. It’d been a good two months, and he was losing his mind if he was worried about his brothers being clothed while eating cookies.
CHAPTER FOUR
“HOLLY! WHAT A nice surprise. How are you, dear?”
Holly smiled at the older woman who practically screamed grandmother. Apparently, she’d been running the front desk at the sheriff’s station since she was in her early twenties, nearly fifty years ago. Holly had only met her one other time, but the woman was just the welcoming type who felt comfortable from the first introduction.
“I’m doing well, Mrs. B, how about yourself?”
“Now, what did I tell you about calling me Marjorie?” She asked with a scowl that didn’t even come close to making her look anything but kind. With tight white curls that only came from weekly visits to the salon, and soft wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, not to mention the crystal dish of Werther’s atop her desk, Marjorie Beasley could have played a sitcom grandmother.
“You told me Mrs. B was your husband’s cranky mother, and you refused to be called anything but Marjorie.”
“That’s right, dear.” She folded her veiny hands on top of her desk. “What is that amazing smell?”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Holly said with a laugh. “Brought you guys a little pick-me-up to get you through the afternoon.” She set the bakery box on the desk in front of Marjorie.
Those warm brown eyes narrowed at the same time they sparkled. “Don’t you mean you brought something to put this entire office in a sugar coma so crimes can be committed all over town?”
Holly mock gasped. “Marjorie,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart. “How could you even think I’d have any motive other than to bring the fine officers of Townsend happiness?” She threw in a wink.
It was Marjorie’s turn to laugh and Holly found it was a wonderful sound full of happiness.
“Well, whatever your plan, I thank you on behalf of the department for the sugar and calories.”
“You’re very welcome,” Holly said with a small curtsey.
“I’m guessing you aren’t just here to sugar me up?”
“My dad asked me to stop by this afternoon. Something he wants to run by me, apparently. He in?”
“He’s here, dear. I haven’t actually seen him since I returned from lunch. He might have someone in his office, but he always lets me know if he shouldn’t be disturbed and he hasn’t said anything yet, so feel free to poke your head in and see what he’s up to.”
“Thank you, Marjorie. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure, dear.”
Holly wandered down the long corridor to the door at the end of the hallway. Her father hadn’t claimed the prior sheriff’s office close to the entrance but chose one much farther away for reasons she didn’t comprehend.
When she reached the closed almond-colored door with her father’s name placard, she knocked twice.
“Enter,” came a terse reply that had Holly rolling her eyes.
She opened the door. “Really, Dad? Could you sound any less invitin—? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in a meeting.” Seated in the chair opposite her father’s desk was a tiny woman with curly blonde hair and a friendly smile.
“No, it’s totally fine,” the woman said as she waved Holly in. “This is nothing personal or private. Interrupt away.”
Holly looked to her dad, who just shrugged. “Fine by me,” he said.
“Well, if neither of you cares, I’ll sit and hang until you’re done,” Holly said, indicating the empty seat next to the woman.
“Absolutely. I won’t be more than a few minutes. I’m Shell, by the way.” She held out a hand with short, unpolished, but neatly shaped nails.
