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The man in question smiles and gives me a wink as he slides his hands in the front pocket of his jeans and casually strolls to the other side of me, bumping his shoulder against mine.

“Uugghh, don’t touch me. Who knows where the fuck you’ve been,” I mutter, wiping off the spot on my arm where he rubbed against me.

The smile never leaves Eric’s face as he stares down at me, which just causes me to glare at him harder. Eric Sailor has been a thorn in my side ever since I first met him at Charming’s a few months ago, when Cindy, Belle and I showed up for our first stripping lesson. He’s part owner there with PJ, and every word out of his mouth grates on my nerves. I don’t even know what it is about the guy that annoys me, he just does. The harder I shoot him murderous looks, the wider his smile gets, until dimples are indenting both of his cheeks.

That’s it. That’s what annoys me. He has dimples. Dimples make women stupid, and I refuse to be stupid over a man ever again. He’s also entirely too good-looking and knows it, with his dark brown hair cut close to the scalp on the sides and back and just long enough on top to lay in messy spikes that look soft to the touch. Not that I want to touch his hair or anything. Not that I’ve ever thought about running my fingers through it. I have, however, imagined clutching it in my fist and yanking it out by the roots. That thought always makes me feel warm and fuzzy. And then you have his ridiculously bright green eyes; long dark lashes; delicious woodsy cologne smell; and lean, muscular build. He’s got a runner’s body. A hot runner’s body.

Yet another reason I hate him. Running is dumb and so is Eric Sailor.

“Stop undressing me with your eyes, it’s making me hard. You’ve got a little drool there,” Eric says under his breath with a smirk, his hand coming up between us and moving towards my lips like he’s going to wipe off said drool that is absolutely not leaking out of the corner of my mouth.

I smack his hand away with an irritated huff before he can touch me. When the older sheriff starts speaking again, I look away from Eric before I actually do commit a crime. Namely, murder.

“Anyway, we don’t want any trouble. Ariel Waters, you have hereby been evicted from the premises,” the older sheriff states, taking a step towards me and holding out a large manila envelope.

All thoughts of Eric and how stupid and annoying he is fly from my mind and my heart drops right down into my toes. Literally. I can feel my heartbeat in my toes. It could be the adorable open-toed wedges I have on cutting off my circulation, but that’s just silly. They’re too cute to cause me any pain. This news from the sheriff makes me want to die, so that’s obviously what’s happening.

PJ reaches out and snatches the envelope from the guy’s outstretched hand when I make no movement to do so, since I feel like every inch of my body is frozen in place. I hear Vincent growl angrily from somewhere behind me, and for the first time since I met the guy and Belle started dating him, I don’t mind hearing that noise coming out of his mouth. It’s comforting. Like being all alone in the woods squaring off with a black bear and having a mountain lion come up behind you and give you a head nod before ripping the bear’s face off, followed by a mountain lion fist-bump.

Yep, I’m losing it.

I numbly stare at PJ as he rips open the envelope and quickly scans the paperwork inside. After a few quiet minutes, he looks up and gives me a sad smile before turning his face towards the deputies.

“Can you tell me why you felt it was necessary for four of you to come over here and do this?”

The man shrugs, giving me a kind smile that I sort of want to punch right off of his face. Again, not a wise idea, but at least the numbness is slowly starting to leave me and anger is taking over.

“Well, since a few of my deputies are familiar with Mrs. Waters, we thought it would be prudent for more than one of us to be here and make sure it went smoothly. You know, just in case there was another Starbucks incident.”

I hear Belle giggle softly behind me, followed by a loud “oomph” when I assume Cindy smacks her in the stomach. They quickly squeeze between PJ and Eric on either side of me and wrap their arms around my waist. Their support warms my cold body and reminds me that I’m not the type of woman who just falls apart when she hears bad news.

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