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I look up at Zeke and smile. He actually is a sweet guy. He’s sweet, nice, and good looking too. I’m also really relaxed around him, and I wasn’t expecting that at all. So, basically, tonight has been really nice. We went to a movie and watched the latest action flick starring The Rock. Afterwards, we ended up at Cliffside eating. The conversation has been general and easy and that also surprises me. I don’t usually do that well talking one on one with people these days, but Zeke makes it easy.
He works on a lobster boat, which means he’s tanned and bronzed by the sun, and the man is blessed with so many muscles that my head spins when I try to take them in. I feel like a tiny doll standing around him. He’s wearing a red and green flannel shirt that somehow manages to enclose his muscles without ripping. He has a white shirt on under that. I can see just a hint of it from the opened buttons of his flannel. Soft faded jeans and boots finish the look out. He’s definitely all man.
I could really like him. There’s just one small problem.
It feels like I’m talking to Gavin. There’s no sparks whatsoever and that really sucks, because I find myself wishing there was.
“Why do you feel guilty?”
“It seems I’ve told you all about me but know very little about you. I think I asked the wrong questions,” he responds, and I smile.
“Maybe I’m just boring,” I suggest, pushing around the lobster mac and cheese on my plate.
“Now that, I don’t believe for a minute,” he says, smiling at me. He’s got brown eyes, but they’re not deep in color like Ben’s, and they don’t sparkle when he smiles.
“I’m just—”
“Hey, Zeke.”
My head jerks up when I hear Ben’s voice. I look in the direction of the sound and see him striding toward us. He’s wearing his uniform and strutting in here like he owns the place. I wish I could say he doesn’t look good. He does, but I’m still going to kill him.
“Hey, Ben. What are you up to?”
“Thought I’d drop by and pick up supper. I’m not much on cooking.”
“I hear you,” Zeke responds.
I put my fork down, bring my arms up to plant my elbows on the table, and form a pyramid with my arms. I join my hands and wait to see what the sheriff thinks he’s doing.
“Well hello, Juniper. I didn’t see you there,” Ben says, and he’s grinning at me. His eyesaresparkling, and I find myself wondering what he would like with lobster mac and cheese dripping down his face and splattered on his uniform.
“Sheriff,” I respond my voice tight.
“I have to admit, I was surprised to see you here tonight, Zeke, what with the call I got. But, then, I suppose having Juniper here is a good enough reason.”
“What kind of call?” Zeke asks, and I narrow my eyes at Ben, because he’s up to something.
“It just came through dispatch about thirty minutes ago. Two of my deputies went to check it out. There was vandalism at the dock tonight. Three boats were involved. I can’t say for sure, but I’d almost swear that Danny said yours was one.”
“Fuck.”
“Hopefully, it’s okay. I suppose you could check it out in the morning. It’d be bad though if it was your boat and all your equipment was unprotected…”
“Christ, Junie, I need to go check it out. I’m so sorry,” Zeke says, and when I look at him it’s all I can do not to call Ben on his shit.
“I’ll go with you,” I tell him, sneaking Ben a fuck-you look.
“You sure you don’t mind? I—”
“I can’t really speak for you, Zeke, but the last time Danny reported in, the scene was a mess, and the people responsible were still on the loose. I wouldn’t want you to risk taking Juniper out there and getting her hurt.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just take you home, Junie. Maybe we can do this again soon,” Zeke says, obviously worried about his boat.
“Go now. I’ll get home. I’ll call Patty from the bar to come and get me. She won’t mind,” I tell Zeke, smiling reassuringly. All the while, I am planning the death of one sheriff.
“No, I couldn’t do that. And you haven’t even finished dinner. Shit, Junie. I’ll just go after you’re done, and I’ll take you home.”
“There’s no need in that. You go on. I’ll give Juniper a ride home in my squad car when she’s done eating,” Ben volunteers—the asshole.
