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Chapter Three
Daisy
I gape at the man in front of me, wondering if I heard him right. “Steal? You’re Danny’s son?”
Now I know why he looks so familiar! This is Drayton Saunders, local hero and, as of three weeks ago, Garland’s youngest sheriff in more than fifty years. He’s a good eight or nine years older than me, so my memories of him are vague, at best, but if memory serves, he spent some time in the army and was a shoo-in for the job when the previous sheriff retired.
I thought Danny was a big guy, but this man is huge, with massive shoulders and a barrel chest. High cheekbones, strong jaw, small scar cutting across his left eyebrow that I have the strangest desire to smooth with my fingers. Dark hair that could do with a cut and a full beard that suits his craggy face.
But it’s his eyes that hold me captive as they clash with mine. They’re the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, set in a face that, while not traditionally handsome, has a rugged male appeal that does funny things to my girly bits. Right now, those eyes are boring into mine as if he can see into my very soul, stripping away the capable woman I show the rest of the world and revealing the scared, vulnerable girl hiding beneath.
Yeah, those eyes see everything. Like just now, when I caught him staring at my wrist, his eyes narrowed on the red marks and fingernail impressions circling my skin. Something tells me nothing gets past Drayton Saunders.
“Drayton!” Danny growls in warning. “Please excuse my son, Daisy,” he apologizes, throwing his son a disapproving look. “His people skills are a little rusty.”
I pull myself up to my full five-six, bristling as his accusation sinks in. Who the hell does he think he is? I mean, he’s the sheriff, obviously, but even so…
“Why would you even ask me that?” I demand, tipping my chin up in a silent challenge. “I’d never steal from Danny.”
He gives a careless shrug. “Can’t be too careful. Pa is a bleeding heart for a sob story, and some people take advantage of that.”
My eyes flash fire at him. This day is turning into a shitastrophe. I don’t care how hot he is. He’s not getting away with shit like that! “Yeah, well, I’m not some people, Mr. Sheriff! I’ve never stolen a dime from anyone in my entire life, and, quite frankly, I resent your accusation!”
“Drayton. Apologize!” Danny barks at his son, his lips compressed in anger.
Drayton shrugs carelessly. “Just doing my job, Pa.”
“Time you left before you drive away my newest member of staff!” Danny says with a pointed look at his son.
Drayton rises to his feet and, holy mother of God, he’s as tall as a mountain! He must be a whole foot taller than me.
“Catch you later, Pa,” Drayton says, ramming his hat on his head. “Daisy,” he adds, tipping the brim in my direction.
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Drayton,” I smile sweetly, my eyes telling him otherwise. I grind my teeth together as his deep chuckle follows him out of the bar.
“Ignore him, Daisy,” Danny says once he’s gone. “He can be a grumpy fuc—er—individual, but he doesn’t mean it. Never used to be like that before.”
I frown. “Before?”
“Before he lost his unit in Yemen,” Danny replies flatly. “He was the only one who survived the blast from a dirty bomb. And you didn’t hear that from me. He doesn’t talk about it.”
“Oh! I’m—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. That must’ve been devastating for him. And for you,” I breathe. Drayton’s prickly nature suddenly takes on a different light. The poor man must be in torment.
“He’s blunt, bordering on rude, but he’s not a bad man. I’m damned proud of him,” Danny says, his tone softening. Obviously, he loves his son very much, but I can also see the worry etched on his face.
I reach out instinctively, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “People aren’t good and bad. The world isn’t that cut and dried. We’re all shades of gray.”
“Spoken like someone who knows that better than most,” Danny observes, looking at me thoughtfully.
“We all have our crosses to bear,” I reply, laughing off his curiosity. “So… did someone really steal from you?”
Danny scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, the last woman who worked here. Caught her taking a hundred dollars from the cash register.”
“So, I automatically get tarred with the same brush,” I sigh, shaking my head.
“Like I said, ignore him. I trust you, and that’s all that matters. I’ll be sure to have words with him later,” he says ominously.
A customer chooses that moment to enter the bar, so I don’t have time to reply, but for the next few hours, my thoughts keep returning to a gruff giant of a man with the sexiest eyes I’ve ever seen.
