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“Is that your car?” It comes out a little hoarse, so I clear my throat. The corner of her lips lifts slightly.
“Nope.”
“Please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s car.”
“I borrowed one from Cam. She works at the body shop. Crackerjack of a mechanic. She offered a Corvette she’s working on, but I thought the ’67 Camaro had a better sound. The torque on that beauty is insane too.” She’s just babbling on about the very thing I’m here to bust her for. And damn it, I’m listening. But I remember I owe this woman nothing. She slammed her door in my face.
“I’m writing you a ticket for reckless driving,” I bark.
“I would assume. I mean, do you see those black marks?”
“You do understand I can throw you in jail for ninety days, right? You’ll also face a fine.”
“Yes, okay.”
“They can suspend your driver’s license.”
“I’m not really that into driving anyway.”
“You’re giving me a fucking aneurysm, you know that?” I yell. She stares back at me.
“They might need to start a swear jar at the station.”
“Get out, return the car, and go home,” I say through gritted teeth. I know I should give her a ticket, but I don’t have the mental prowess tonight to spar with Eliot Caraway.
“Thanks,” she says. Then she does something that will have me in a tailspin for the rest of my shift. She leans over and presses her lips to mine. It’s just for a moment and she’s gone by the time I recover, but it makes getting fired for letting another misdemeanor slide so worth it.
* * *
ELIOT
Yes, you read that right. For some unexplained reason, I decided the perfect time to kiss Owen was as he was letting me off with a warning. Again. What are the charges for sexually harassing an officer of the law?
He looked like a deer in the headlights. Should I add that to the list? I’m almost positive no high school kid went around kissing the sheriff. I think I’ll just chalk it up to gas fumes from revving the Camaro’s engine.
“So, how did it go? Did you redline her?” Cam asks when I pull the car back into her shop.
“I didn’t want to blow the engine up. Besides, I got busted before I had a chance. I did several nice donuts, and the burn marks are impressive.” I give her the keys and run my hand back over the paint one more time. “Say, how much for one of these?”
“Around twenty-five grand. It’s supposed to be Carter’s new car. But he’s a soft touch. You can probably talk him out of it for less.”
“I might ask him about it the next time I’m at the bank. He can sell me the car and finance it too,” I give it one last caress. “Hey, thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“Anytime,” she answers. I wave as she lowers the overhead door. It was fun. Way better than climbing the water tower.
But back to that kiss. In the brief time our lips touched, I could tell his were soft but firm. You know, like he’s a trumpet player with a lip balm addiction.
I also think I heard a moan. I’m not sure if it was him or me. And do you know how people say their minds just go blank? Not mine. It was like a slideshow at super speed. There were phallic symbols, flowers opening, old movie kisses, trees, peach pie. You name it, it was there. I don’t know if I’m hard up or hungry.
I wonder how long it’ll take him to figure out I only act bad when he’s on duty? I even dressed for the occasion. It wasn’t lost on me how he made a full perusal of the goods either. He’s beginning to make me believe that I might just have more to offer than good math skills. I shouldn’t get my hopes up though. He’s probably filing a complaint already.
I’ve marked another item off my list. The only thing left to do tonight is a mug of tea and a true crime documentary. I drive home and let myself inside. I shower the remaining fumes from my body. Sporting my favorite pajamas (the ones with sheep on them), I settle onto the couch with my mug of tea.
A fist pounds on my front door like it’s trying to beat it off the hinges. Who in the hell makes a social call this late? I set my mug on the table and paddle in my fuzzy socks to the door.
Here’s the thing about our small town. We all know each other, so none of us think twice about jerking the door open without checking who’s outside. I should have checked. When I open it, Owen stands on the other side.
I’m still trying to figure out why he’s here when his hand wraps around the back of my neck and he pulls me to him. He sighs when our lips meet like he’s found where he belongs. The lingering question about who moaned earlier is answered. It’s definitely me. My body relaxes against his as his tongue insists on entry into my mouth.
