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Tate entered the sleek, contemporary home he’d personally designed a few years before. The rooms were all large and open, with a gray and silver décor and modern furniture that was perfect for entertaining. Most importantly, it was constructed on the highest point in town with large windows that allowed him to overlook Pike. Like a king surveying his kingdom.
And that’s exactly what he felt like.
Most of the time.
Today? Today, he felt like the court jester trying to avoid complete disaster.
Entering through the front door, he pulled off his coat and tossed it on a silver table before heading into the formal sitting room. He intended to have a quick shot of the ludicrously expensive cognac he had imported from France, but he was interrupted by a short, curvaceous woman with glorious blond hair and pale blue eyes. Jolene Erickson had been the prettiest girl in town when he married her. He’d been aroused every time he saw those flashing dimples and mouthwatering boobs. It hadn’t bothered him that she’d always been fragile. He liked to know she depended on him. But over the years, he couldn’t deny there’d been times when he’d had to search out a woman who offered him some raw, bang-it-together sex. He was a man. It happened.
Jolene drifted into the center of the room, still wearing a frilly robe despite the fact it was past ten in the morning.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Tate swallowed a sigh, accepting his cognac would have to wait. Jolene didn’t like him to drink before noon.
“Who were you expecting?”
“Sunny.”
Tate felt a stab of surprise. His daughter rarely left the house during the day. She was not only busy with her online classes, she was very protective of her mother. She didn’t like to leave her alone.
“Where is she?”
Jolene sniffed. “She insisted on visiting that horrible boy who was hit by a car yesterday.”
Tate sucked in a sharp breath. “Wait. Is he awake?”
“She didn’t say. All I know is that she refused to eat the breakfast I cooked for her, then dashed out the door when Cord Walsh pulled up in his truck.” Her tone was peevish. “Really, love, you should start giving people tickets for noise disturbance. The racket was enough to cause one of my migraines.”
Tate was instantly distracted. “Sunny is with Cord Walsh?”
“He was driving her to the hospital in Grange.”
Anger bubbled through Tate. He did his best to shield his family from the less desirable citizens of Pike, but he couldn’t be everywhere all at once. He needed some help.
“Why did you let her go?” He sent his wife a frustrated frown. “I don’t like that kid. He’s nothing but trouble. And she needs to stay away from that Hurst boy as well. Both of them should be in jail.”
Jolene lifted her hand to her throat, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “I tried my best to keep her home, but lately she has developed a mind of her own.” They both glanced toward the long window at the rumbling sound of an approaching vehicle. “That’s her now.”
Tate didn’t bother to watch the rusty truck come up the steep driveway. He already felt guilty for snapping at his wife. He’d wait until he had his temper under control before confronting his daughter.
“I’ll have a word with her later.”
“Why can’t you do it now?”
“I have a meeting in my office.” Tate sent one last, longing glance at the decanter of cognac before he crossed the silver carpet to brush his lips over his wife’s cheek. “Make sure I’m not interrupted.”
Jolene clicked her tongue, stepping back. “I don’t understand why you can’t have your meetings at the courthouse. This is my home, not a public building.”
“Because I don’t want anyone overhearing what I have to say.”
She blinked at his sharp tone. “Tate. What’s going on?”
“Nothing you need to worry yourself about.” He forced a stiff smile to his lips. “I just have a few loose ends to tie up.”
With a determined stride, Tate left the sitting room and crossed through the vast kitchen that was Jolene’s domain to push open the door to the four-car garage. He’d deliberately separated his office from the rest of the house to ensure privacy. Something a mayor needed on a regular basis.
Pulling the keys from the pocket of his slacks, he unlocked the connecting door and stepped into the small but comfortable room that was completely different from the main house. He’d chosen heavy wood furniture and a dark crimson carpet that matched the drapes. It was a masculine space that suited his position of authority.
