AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sit down.” Cameron hip-checked him toward the table.
Stopping with one hand on the chair back, ready to pull it out, he did a double take. He glanced around the table, then returned to me. My shirt was misbuttoned, and my hair was a disaster, but I didn’t think my lack of personal grooming had caused his odd reaction.
“Am I in your seat?” I half rose, ready to move.
“No. You’re fine,” Cameron told me with a meaningful look at her brother, who planted his ass without another word.
I knew that kind of look; my sister and I shared them occasionally. It conveyed a million thoughts, but only the siblings involved would understand.
“Wilson, this is my brother, Sheriff Colton Reid... but around here, I call him jackass most of the time.” She placed a platter piled with egg and sausage biscuits in the center of the table, along with the coffee pot. In the process, she whacked the back of her brother’s head with her elbow. It was a glancing blow, but a quality shot. As a younger sibling, I approved of her technique.
Colton, after checking his head injury, leaned over the table and offered me his hand. “Call me Reid. That’s what most of the town does.”
His grip was almost as punishing as Jude Morgan’s last night at the bar.
“Sure thing, Sheriff.” I got a smile from him that said everything I needed to know. Calling him Sheriff had been the perfect thing to do. He may not have liked me waking up in his sister’s house, but he would allow it as long as I gave him some respect.
“Are you ready to eat something, or just coffee?” Cameron didn’t wait for an answer and put a plate with a greasy, delicious-looking sandwich in front of me.
The smell of the buttery, fatty goodness made my mouth water. I’d gladly take an extra Lipitor when I got back to my house to enjoy one or two of these. “Are the biscuits home-baked too?”
“Yep, Grandma made them.”
“That’s mayor to you, California,” the sheriff added, jabbing a finger at me.
“Sorry we were late. There was a turtle incident.” Lara, the succubus who made me way too many jalapeño martinis last night, burst through the kitchen door with a young boy at her side. Her bun was falling down, and her sweats looked like she slept in them. In contrast, her son could have stepped out of the pages of a kid’s clothing catalog, pressed and scrubbed to glowing perfection.
“Mom, shush! The sheriff is here. He can’t know we killed the class turtle.” The son’s stage whisper might have been audible down the block.
“We didn’t kill him. Tommy was eaten. By a raccoon, I think.”
“A raccoon?” Colton turned and looked between Lara and her son.
“I might have left the aquarium thing he lived in on top of the roof of my car... overnight.”
“And why is the prime suspect a raccoon?” Reid looked from mother to son like this was an interrogation and he expected one perp to crack and rat out the other.
“The muddy five-fingered paw prints that run from the empty bowl, down my windshield, and off the hood.” She pantomimed a scurrying raccoon with her fingers.
“Sounds open and shut to me.” He handed the son a plate with a biscuit and a cup of OJ.
“Tyler, eat. I need you strong for practice this afternoon.” The boy took the food and headed for the living room. The TV clicked on a moment later.
In a blinding flash, I realized this morning routine was the norm. It baffled me, and I had about a million questions. Foremost, how many more people were going to parade in and see me looking like death warmed over? I regretted not trying to locate a bathroom with a shower.
“His teacher already hates me.” Lara rubbed her temples as if her head might feel as bad as mine.
“Lara, the roof of the car?” The disappointment in the sheriff’s voice made me want to take a turn elbowing him in the back of the head. Obviously, Lara already felt like shit; his piling on was plain mean.
“Colton, don’t say anything if you aren’t going to be helpful.” Cameron wrapped an arm around Lara and offered her the tray of biscuits and a chair.
I poured a cup of coffee and slid it to her. The poor woman looked ready to cry.
“Thanks, Wilson. I can’t believe you’re upright. Those jalapeño martinis are a special breed of hangover.” Lara sipped the coffee gratefully and gifted me a wobbly but sympathetic smile, a bit more trusting of me than last night since I’d taken her side in the turtle incident.
I groaned dramatically. Who was I to turn down sympathy from an attractive woman? And this morning, I had two of them giving me pitying looks.
The sheriff cleared his throat, and the gruff sound snapped Lara’s eyes away from me. Interesting.
