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“That’s the spirit! There’s hope for us.” Bailey winked at her. “In the meantime, there’s always the dependable Big Joe. I’m sure you didn’t leave home without him.”
“How do you know me?” Daphne laughed with them. “As soon as you let me go, I’ll be humping that rubber dick like there’s no tomorrow.”
“With the vision of the super fuckable Sheriff Scott in your mind, right?”
“As sharp as always, little sis. You hit the nail on the head!”
Chapter Four
The next morning...
“Ugh! Agh!” Who knew orange juice could be a worse choking hazard than a crumb? Of course, had she been prepared to slap eyes on the sexy Sheriff Carter Scott just as she took a sip, she might not be struggling to draw a breath. But then, she had no way of knowing he would look yummier in tight jeans and a flannel shirt. Flannel? Good Lord, Daphne, since when does a checkered flannel shirt excite you!?
“Oh, shit!” With a muttered cry, she ducked sideways in an attempt to hide as her continued croaking coughs drew the sheriff’s attention. The move started out haphazardly, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that apart from hitting her head against the edge and instead of folding double to play hide-and-seek behind the table, she found herself flat on her buttocks on the hard, wooden floor. The hard jostle as she landed invited another flurry of coughs to echo through the soft din of conversation around her.
“Oh, fr-freaking h-hell,” she stuttered as her face bloomed bright red with embarrassment. “Perfect, Daphne, make a total fool of yourself, why don’t you?”
“You okay down there, Miss Lovebug?” The deep guttural tones floated from the tall man towering over her, the very same one she was attempting to avoid.
Daphne’s chin lowered, and she covered her face with her hands. “Ugh! Could this day get any worse?” she mumbled.
“What was that? Do you need me to call the ambulance?” The dulcet tones were soaked in amusement.
“Does it look like I need an ambulance?” she snapped as her hands fell to her lap to glare at him. The heat in her cheeks turned the color of a crayfish on hormone treatment as she detected the mirth glimmering in his eyes. “Why don’t you rather be a gentleman and help me up?”
“Assumption is the mother of all, don’t you agree?”
Daphne was all too aware that they had become a spectacle that held the animated attention of the other diners. Still, the big, bad sheriff just issued a challenge, and if there was one thing she couldn’t resist, it was a man who tested her resolve.
“So, are you saying you’re not a gentleman?” With her chin inching a tad higher, she folded her arms over her chest, deliberately pushing her cleavage higher. No doubt she looked silly sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out and her back straight as an arrow.
“My mother would be insulted to hear such an allegation.” His eyes dutifully dropped to eye her assets. “She prides herself on having brought us boys up with morals and good manners.” A ghost of a smile came and went as she narrowed her eyes.
“And yet, here I am, still sprawled indignantly on the floor.”
“The assumption is that I would help you up.” He mirrored her action by crossing his hands over his chest. Contrary to hers, which had been intended to flaunt her assets in his face, his move brought her attention to the bulge in his tight jeans. The warning growl emitting from deep within his throat and forcing her eyes back to his proved that had been the last thing he had intended.
Well, boohoo to you, Sheriff. You flaunt your junk in my face, I sure as hell am going to ogle it and wonder just how big that man tool of yours is. The thought once again caused a rosy glow to embrace her cheeks.
“See, I got the impression yesterday that you’re a highly independent, feministic femme fatale. I would hate to insult you by assuming you need a man’s help to...” A Cheshire grin broke through. “Ah, obviously, I was correct in hesitating to offer my assistance,” he ended dryly as she jackknifed to her feet so quickly, it was a surprise his back didn’t go into a spasm as he was forced to retreat a step.
Breaching the space between them, she went toe-to-toe with him. A stiff finger stabbed his chest. For a second, her brain froze as she encountered hardness—absolutely no give, just pure, unadulterated, lickable muscles that rippled under her touch. When his one eyebrow inched higher, she cleared her throat and willed the telltale blush to behave that suddenly seemed to bloom at his command.
“Now, you listen well, Sheriff Scott, just because I know what I want and am not shy to go after it doesn’t make me a feminist... now a femme fatale, on the other hand...” A sly smile curved her lips as her voice turned syrup-sweet and seductive. “If that’s a turn-on for you, I’d be happy to oblige in some roleplay.”
“Pity there isn’t a law against what you’re attempting to do since it would give me the utmost pleasure to put you behind bars.” Shaking his head, he pulled out her chair and gestured at it. “Please, sit down before you cause an indecent public disturbance, which would force me to act on.”
“Oh! Are you going to break out the cuffs, Sheriff? Are we gonna do some bondage play?” Her voice lowered into a husky whisper at the end.
“Hmm, keep going, Miss Lovebug, and before you know it, you’ll be a visitor to the artfully decorated private rooms of the PPD.”
“Miss Lovebug?” The frown was so deep, it almost drew her perfectly formed eyebrows together in a straight line as she realized it was the second time he’d called her that. It would be humiliating if he couldn’t even remember her name. “Do you have any idea how insulting that sounds?” Once again, her arms snapped over her chest. She was so affronted, it didn’t register that his eyes meandered over the enticing upper curve of her breasts. “Do you even know my name, Sheriff Scott?”
“I might have a couple of gray hairs, but my memory is as intact as that of an elephant.” With a grin, he saluted her as his words, which left a pleased smile on her lips, chased after him. “Do us both a favor and behave for the balance of your visit... Miss Daphne Fowler.”
He does remember my name! Good. At least, that means I made an impression on him.
Gmphf, you sure did. Let’s just hope it’s the kind of impression you’re after.
