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With the grace of a runner, he dashed inside the terminal, giving fans a quick nod as he passed, his long legs carrying him to me faster than I wished. I was not ready for this moment. I’d hoped to never see him in person again.
He stopped about a foot from me, his ebony hair—now shot through with strands of silver so kudos to him for not dying it—windblown, his cheeks rough with afternoon whiskers. He’d always had a heavy beard and liked to tease about it being the Italian in him. Be it his Sicilian blood or just his amazing genetics, the scruff worked for him.
“I know we didn’t part on the best of terms, but are you planning on shooting me, Sheriff King?” he asked jokingly.
I glanced down to my side to see that I had a firm grip on the handle of my revolver. I instantly released it and stood there empty-handed with nothing to do with my hands. So I shoved them under my armpits.
“Nice to see you, Anthony,” I replied with my best lawman tone.
“Now you sound like my mother,” he teased. The man had always been a big pester ass. The soul of a trickster god housed in the body of a god of seduction. A lethal combination.
“Doubtful.” I looked around him, ignoring his playful smile. “Where’s your PA?” There had been just a handful of airport staff milling around.
“Sadly, he had to have his wisdom teeth extracted, so I flew here all alone.”
I glimpsed his way. He seemed sincere. “Sorry to hear that he’s under the weather, but I’m sure the movie people will find someone to fetch and carry for you.”
“I’m going to miss Mignon terribly. He’s the best fetcher since I owned that little black terrier.”
I shot him a dry look. “I didn’t mean to say that your personal assistant was a dog.”
“I know, you just meant to say that I was a jerk who expected people to jump when I say how high.”
Fucker. That was exactly what I had thought. “Do you have more luggage?”
He snickered softly, his brown eyes alight with mirth. I was going to thump him before we made it all the way home. This was a dreadful idea. I vowed to never vote for Bradley again. Not that I had ever voted for him, but if I had...
“I do yes, they’re sorting it now. Might be a few minutes. Would you like to go to the coffee shop over there to wait? I’d kill for a tart with a mocha coffee on the side.” I bobbed my head, spun on my heel, and stalked off, muttering about the amount of tarts he had enjoyed over the years. “You know that despite what the tabloids say, I was happily married and so my tart intake was lower than you might have expected.”
Damn man had ears like a bat. I remained silent as we got Tony his coffee and tart. Actually, it was a rather dried-out-looking apple turnover, but that would have to do. The girl behind the counter gushed, batted her lashes, and got a selfie. He plunked his tight ass on a stool, smiled sweetly at me, and then blew over his coffee.
“You can sit down. I promise I will not bite you,” he said as he tore off a chunk of his turnover and dunked it into the coffee. “They could put out some fresh pastries for passengers.”
“This is a small airport not LAX.” I stood at his side, like a prison matron, eyes glued on the guys on the tarmac talking instead of loading luggage. I heard Tony sigh. “Their work ethic is pretty shoddy.”
“They’re probably talking to each other just to spite you,” he flung at me like a ninja star. My gaze flew to him. “Thank you for looking at me. Stillman, I am sorry for—”
I held up a hand. “Nope, don’t need to hear it nor do I want to hear it. You made your choice, Anthony, and it turned out to be a good one for you. You’re a big star now, making tons of money, marrying starlets and leading men—”
“Only one starlet and that was before I could be out and not jeopardize my career. The leading man was a mistake. We both knew it a month after the vows had been spoken. My therapist says that I’m trying to fill a void in my heart.”
That one got me. Like a trout on a sharp new hook. He sat there on the bank, verbal pole in hand, and reeled me to the shore. I thought to unload on him, but that was not a conversation to have in public. So, I did the next best thing. I flipped him off and then stormed outside to bark at the men who were loading suitcases onto a trolley. They both surged into high speed after I spoke to them. Within ten minutes, we had Tony’s two cases in hand and were in my cruiser, heading home.
“For a law enforcement officer, you drive rather recklessly,” Tony said when I took a turn with a bit too much gusto. His coffee sloshed over the side of his cup.
“If you would have left the lid on, that wouldn’t have happened,” I explained because a chimp should be able to figure that out. Lid on, no spillage.
“It was too hot so I had to blow it.”
“No, do not even start.”
“What did I do? We’re talking about hot coffee. Honestly, Sheriff King, you’ve got the dirtiest mind. Always did, though. Do you remember that night when—”
“No.No.” I jerked the wheel to the right so hard he had to lunge around to keep his damn mocha latte whatever foamy shit in the cup. What was wrong with plain old coffee? I turned as much as I could, given I was buckled in, and shoved my finger into his face. “We arenottaking walks down memory lane, Tony. I did not volunteer to have you in my home. I knew nothing about your movie being filmed in my town until it was too late to speak against it. You left me. I begged you to stay. Pleaded. But you had stars in your eyes and zero love for me in your heart.”
“That is not even partially true,” he weakly argued, coffee dripping off his fingers to the floor mat under his expensive hiking boots. As if he would be hiking anywhere. Hollywood types were all the same, fakers and liars and heartbreakers.
“I’m not interested in hearing your bullshit. Until a room somewhere else opens up I’m stuck with you. I will do my civic duty to the town because this movie is important to our fiscal health. That is theonlyreason, Tony. If not for the citizens needing the influx of all that dirty money, I’d have seen you bedding down with Barry Shetland’s prize sow. Now, sit there, be quiet, and let me drive.”
