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Sean pictured the papers flooding every available flat surface in his office and wanted to kick himself in the ass for letting it ge
t that bad. “We can’t.”
The deputy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why not?”
“We were in the middle or an organizational overhaul when all this started happening, and our files are in a bit of disarray right now.” Natalie’s normally honey–smooth voice came out twisted and strained.
“That seems to be the case for a lot of things around here,” the deputy deadpanned. “You folks keep in touch, let me know if anything else happens.” Epson slid his notebook into his shirtfront pocket and sauntered over to the door.
Sean watched the deputy disappear through the swinging doors, knowing that despite the circumstantial evidence, the local sheriff’s office wasn’t going to expend many man hours over a problem at the brewery run by the most disliked family in Salvation. The Sweets weren’t exactly pariahs anymore, but that didn’t mean the townsfolk welcomed them.
Natalie crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare. Without her seemingly ever–present clipboard, the move squeezed her tits together until the top button on her fuzzy cardigan looked like it was about to wave the white flag. His dick twitched behind his zipper.
Yeah, he was a real bastard for checking her cleavage out at a moment like this, but he was also a man who’d become a little too intimately acquainted with his right hand lately.
“My face is up here, Sean.”
Natalie’s declaration blasted him back to the here and now.
Busted. Smooth move, dude.
Heat throbbed in his cheeks, but he managed to raise his gaze to her icy blue eyes. “We’re going to have to find the bastard on our own.”
She nodded. “Agreed, but we need to make a plan.”
“Come by my house tonight.”
“Why your house? Why not here, now?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the commotion picking back up on the brewery floor. “Because we don’t know who’s listening.”
She looked around at the staff members getting back to work. No matter what might happen, she had to know the beer wouldn’t wait, a fact even the most nervous of workers knew. “Point taken.”
“Come by after work.” Feeling like he’d just made a deal with the sexiest devil there was, Sean jammed his hat lower over the last scar his dad ever gave him and followed the deputy’s path out the door.
Chapter Six
Four hours and sixteen minutes later, Natalie rested her cheek against her desk’s cool laminate and felt her eyelids flutter shut. The chill soaked into her overheated flesh. Her sigh of relief was as heartfelt as that of a sorority girl nuzzling up to the porcelain god during rush week.
She could handle problems of the organizational kind without getting a single hair out of place. But when it came to probable sabotage and the prospect of being at Sean’s house tonight, her insides turned all wibbly–wobbly.
Growing up as the quiet, contained one in the wild bunch known as the Sweets of Salvation, she’d always been snowed under by her family’s brashness and crazy ways. Every time she’d gone with her sisters to bail her parents out of jail for one crazy protest or another against the powers that be, anxiety had tightened her entire body until the darkness threatened to eat away at her vision. All of that culminated in Natalie not being able to leave her college dorm room for two weeks until Dr. Kenning had given her the tools to deal with the overwhelming thing called life. So it made sense that all the goings–on at the brewery had her on edge.
Worry that there would be more mishaps accounted for seventy–nine–point–three percent of the discombobulated mess swirling around her. She attributed a solid twenty–point–seven percent to the man who expressed himself through grunts, clipped sentences, and strong muscles that made her weak in the knees.
“You don’t look so hot, sis.” Miranda’s tone broke down into one part exhaustion and two parts concern.
Natalie snapped into a sitting position and slid her hands across her hair, ensuring every strand was in its proper spot, then patted her flushed cheeks.
“I feel plenty hot.” And bothered. Too much time had passed since she’d had sex and relieved all the stress build up. Way. Too. Damn. Long.
“Will it make you feel better to know that I completed the safety check on the brewery while you were talking to the ever–helpful law enforcement officer?” Miranda asked, rolling her eyes when she mentioned Deputy Epson.
“He’s just doing his job.”
Her sister held up a piece of paper. “You haven’t seen what the sheriff’s office just e–mailed me.”
It had only been a few hours. This didn’t bode well. Natalie fought the urge to let her shoulders slump in defeat. “God, what now?”
