“Can I help you?”
Sev looked at her and knew right off the bat she was a shrewd lady. She wasn’t studying him unkindly, but she wasn’t smiling, either. He smiled and stood, smoothing the front of his shirt down as he approached her desk and offered his hand.
“Hi. I’m Severo Adulio Robledo.” His hand was shaken briskly then released. “I wanted to talk to the sheriff when he gets back from lunch, if that’s okay.”
“I’m Doreen.” She raked him with an intimidating gaze while she tapped her fingernails together. “Is there a problem, Mr. Robledo? Something specific you need to speak to Sheriff Stenley about?”
Here’s where it gets tricky. Sev didn’t want to come across as a weirdo. His cheeks heated and he shrugged self-consciously. “I’m new here in McKinton, and thought it might be a good idea to introduce myself.”
Doreen stared at him for a moment or two then blinked, as though processing and filing her thoughts with that single movement. “Really. Is that something you do often?”
“Actually, yes, I do.” Sev held up a hand when Doreen frowned. “Not to, like, check in for parole or anything! Just… Sometimes, I’ve been asked to assist with cases here and there, that’s all.” And he wasn’t going to explain how.
“Hm.” Doreen’s eyebrows scrunched together, her forehead wrinkling as she considered him. “I can’t think of any cases we have open, and I know Sheriff Stenley hasn’t requested any help. So why are you here again?”
Sev tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “No, I’m not here in that capacity.” I don’t think, anyway. “But I know small towns, and I saw the sheriff at the café earlier and had the distinct impression that he was the sort of guy who’d check out anyone new to town. Figured I’d help him along.”
He felt like Doreen was peering into his brain, and it was borderline creepy. Sev willed himself not to blush again, sure the woman would scent out the attraction he felt for the other man.
“Why didn’t you just introduce yourself there?”
Damn. “Ah, he was fixing to eat with his friends—and there was this waitress there who was tossing out some homophobic crap.” Sev stopped himself from shrugging again, barely. “Since she was making suggestions about the sheriff, and since I’m definitely, uh…” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to say. Sev bit his bottom lip and gave up on not blushing. “He was already getting sh— The waitress was already saying stuff about him hanging out with ‘the town queers’, and I figured throwing another one in the mix might just make it worse.” God, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were burning! He dared to glance at Doreen, afraid of what he’d see in her expression. She looked pissed. Oh shit. “Hey, look, I—”
Doreen stood and marched around the desk, the heels of her shoes tapping loudly on the ceramic tiles. Sev turned to meet her, figuring his ass was fixing to get chewed.
“It was that bitchy niece of Virginia’s, wasn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“The waitress. It was Irma, wasn’t it?” Doreen nodded before he could answer. “I am going to give that girl a piece of my mind, messing with the sheriff and my boys.” Doreen turned and headed for the door as Sev stood stunned, rooted in place. “You watch the place while I go beat her with Zeke’s cane,” Doreen ordered as she went out of the door.
Sev wondered what in the world had just happened. “Yeah, I’ll just…do that.” Otherwise, he was pretty sure Doreen would beat him with whatever was handy next time she saw him.
* * * *
“So, what’d you think of Severo?”
Brendon’s tone was light, but Laine wasn’t fooled. Brendon was watching him closely, alert to any nuance that might give him a clue as to what Laine really thought of the small man who’d been talking to Brendon. Laine hadn’t turned to outright stare, but he had been aware of Severo as soon as he and Zeke had entered the café.
“I think he’s trouble.” That, at least, was the truth. Laine couldn’t deny he’d seen the man, though he had tried not to stare, not to make it obvious that he was checking Severo out. Which was stupid, because as sheriff, Laine always checked out newcomers, a quick sweep to form a judgment as to whether or not he needed to keep an eye on them. It shouldn’t have been any different this time around, but it was, and if the look on Brendon’s face was anything to go by, Laine had given something away by varying from his usual behavior. He couldn’t explain why this particular stranger seemed dangerous to him, why he couldn’t risk turning around and studying the man. It was ridiculous, but Laine had felt exposed as soon as he’d caught a glimpse of the man’s light brown skin, the sharp angle of his chin, as if, in seeing the man, Laine was risking everyone else seeing him.
Brendon scoffed at Laine’s proclamation. “Please. He’s all of five-six and a hundred and thirty pounds dripping wet. How much trouble could he be?”
Zeke saved Laine from answering. “That little dark-haired guy? Babe, it’s always the little ones you have to watch out for. They have that whole Napoleon complex going on.” Zeke winked at Brendon and opened his menu. “He was a cute little guy, though.”
“And gay,” Brendon pointed out, still watching Laine, who decided a grunt was the only answer to that statement. “And he has balls—”
“Well, I’d think so,” Zeke cut in, grinning. Laine was relieved to see Zeke had gotten past his nervous discomfort. The man’s hands were steady as he opened his menu.
“Smart ass.” Brendon flicked a glance at the waitress, Irma, who was watching them with a petulant look on her face. “It seems our waitress thought there might be more to you accepting a helping hand from Laine than there really was. She wanted to know if you were already cheating on me.”
The blood in Laine’s veins iced over. He grabbed Zeke’s forearm when he started to rise and pulled the man back down, frowning at Irma as Zeke’s muscles tightened under his hand.
“No need to get in a tizzy,” Laine said as he let go of Zeke, still pinning Irma with a glare.
Fear and anger warred in Laine. He didn’t need people stirring up rumors about his sexual preference. If I have to hide it, maybe I shouldn’t be here. But where else can I go? And am I willing to lie to keep my job? Laine didn’t have any answers for those questions, but it didn’t stop him from tipping his head at Irma. She came to their table, her lip curled in disgust.
“What do you want?” Irma didn’t even bother trying to sound polite, so neither did Laine.
“An explanation.” Laine hadn’t had a problem with Irma before, not in the three years he’d lived here. She’d flirted, he’d avoided, and apparently that was a good move whether he was gay or straight. The woman had a sneer that could cause a man’s balls to drop off.
“I’m not the one who needs to explain why he was walking around all lovey-dovey with a queer.” Irma spat the words out, her knuckles going white on the pen she was gripping.
Anger burst and spread through Laine, an explosion so forceful he saw spots dance before his eyes. He was on his feet before he knew it, Zeke and Brendon flanking him. He heard the kitchen doors swing open, and the sound of scuttling footsteps helped him rein in his temper. It wouldn’t do any good to blast Irma—he needed to stay calm.
“Is there a problem here?” Virginia, who’d owned the café for decades, looked from Laine and his friends to Irma, then back again. “Sheriff?”
Laine was so disgusted he didn’t know what to say, but Irma didn’t have the same problem. She turned to Virginia, her shoulders rigid and her voice shrill.
“I was just pointing out that our good sheriff seemed to be awfully friendly with the town queers.” Irma glanced back at Laine and smirked before facing Virginia again. “He had his arm wrapped around that one.” Her hand flopped behind her in Zeke’s direction. “Looked all too friendly. Makes me wonder, you know, since there ain’t a woman around here who he’s ever dated.”
“Well, if you’re anything like the female options here, it’s no wonder.”
> Laine didn’t know whether he wanted to high five Brendon or deck him. He settled for ignoring him. An angry flush had covered Irma’s face, and she looked ready to attack Brendon. Laine’s common sense kicked in. This situation needed to be defused, but Virginia’s jaw had dropped down and she was looking at Irma like the waitress was the antichrist.
“Irma Jean!” Virginia sputtered and snapped her mouth shut. “You know better than to start rumors and gossip like that! You owe these men an apology, right now.”
“But, Aunt Virginia—” Irma wheedled, her head dropping down low.
Virginia wasn’t having it. “I mean it, Irma Jean. You apologize, then you clock out and gather your things. Go home and think about how much trouble running your mouth is going to get you in.” Virginia reached out and tipped Irma’s head up, forcing Irma to look her in the eyes. “Because, I promise you, if I hear one whiff of rumor, one innuendo or one more hateful remark from you, I’ll fire you and send you back to live with your mama.” Virginia waited until Irma nodded then dropped her hand back to her side.
“Sorry,” Irma muttered, not sounding sorry at all in Laine’s opinion.
“Irma…” Virginia must not have thought it a sincere apology either as she reached out to grab Irma’s wrist as the waitress spun around and walked away.
“Let her go, Virginia. It’s not worth the trouble.” Laine turned to Zeke and Brendon. “Ya’ll good with eating here still?”
“Reckon so. It isn’t Virginia’s fault Irma decided to get, uh, snarky.” Zeke slid back into his seat and rested his cane against his knee. Brendon nodded and sat beside him. “Besides, it’s not like we can pick our family, can we?”
Virginia shook her head as Laine took his seat. “No, we sure can’t, and I’m sorry for that, believe me.” Virginia looked at them and gave them a half-hearted smile. “That girl’s my flesh and blood, and she’s had a hard life, but that don’t excuse her behavior. I am sorry, Sheriff. I apologize to all of y’all.”
“Wasn’t your fault, Virginia.” Laine wanted to say more. He’d like to know what was running through Virginia’s head about Irma’s accusations, but it was better to let it drop.
“I own the place, I put that girl to work here, so it is my fault, in a way.” Virginia patted Laine’s shoulder. “I know you were helping a friend, and there ain’t a thing wrong with that. Nothing wrong if you don’t find girls appealing, either—”
Laine’s heart skipped a beat.
“But that ain’t no one’s business but your own, and I don’t know anything one way or the other—except you three eat free today.”
Laine nodded and concentrated on breathing past the lump of fear in his throat. The door to the café opened, bells tinkling. Doreen stormed through the doorway and immediately found Laine. She pointed at him.
“You need to have Virginia pack up your lunch and head back to the office.” Doreen’s tone brooked no argument. Laine felt like a kid being sent to his room by his mother. It got his hackles up, something that, if he wasn’t careful, would get his butt chewed unless he handled it carefully. He glared at Zeke and Brendon, who were both snickering at him across the booth, then faced Doreen.
“Doreen, I’m not ten.”
Doreen actually snorted at him, which resulted in more snickering from his two friends. “No, but you have someone waiting there to talk to you, and I don’t need you here witnessing me. Irma Jean!”
Irma came out of the kitchen carrying her purse and froze, looking more than a little scared. Doreen nodded at Laine. “You get your food and go, and I promise not to break any laws.”
Irma bolted for the kitchen, only to be dragged back out by Virginia, one hand locked around Irma’s forearm, the other carrying a to-go box.
“Here you go, Sheriff.” Virginia waved the box at him when Irma dug in her heels and refused to take another step closer. “Take it and go. I won’t let anything happen.”
Laine scooted out of the booth, keeping Doreen in sight. Obviously, she’d heard about Irma’s accusations—and there’d only been one other person here when Irma had started her ranting, which meant… Laine’s stomach quivered with nervousness as he took the box from Virginia. He couldn’t decide whether he was excited or terrified by the prospect of talking to the man who’d been here earlier, and couldn’t figure out why he’d be either.
“Look, Doreen, don’t…don’t do anything rash. I’d hate to have to lock you up.”
Doreen laughed and shook her head. “You won’t have to—this time. Now, you need to get back.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Laine felt reassured by the fact Doreen had never assaulted anyone before—that he was aware of. God knew, it would have taken a stronger man than him to report it if she had. He glanced at Zeke and Brendon as he pushed the door open. What’s with those smirks? Laine left and tapped the glass beside his friends’ booth as he walked past, wishing he could reach through and thump those looks off their faces.
Once he was sure he was out of their sight, he sped up, just stopping himself from jogging. Guess that answers one question. I wouldn’t be in such a hurry if I was terrified, now, would I?
Taking a moment to try to calm his racing heart, Laine stopped a few feet from the door. He took several deep breaths before he felt ready to face the man—Severo Adulio Robledo, per Brendon— inside. Well, as ready as he was going to be. Laine opened the door and entered the building, the Styrofoam box in his hand making a crunching noise as he unconsciously clenched it. He thought his eyes might just bulge out of his head when he saw the figure sitting in Doreen’s chair, arms up and hands behind his head, feet propped up on Doreen’s desk.
“You’d better thank God it was me instead of Doreen who walked in.”
The man smiled and Laine’s heart sped up. His cock twitched at the way that smile lit the guy up, making an attractive face dropdead gorgeous, those pale eyes gleaming.
“She left me in charge when she ran off to play white knight.” Severo lowered his feet and hands, then stood, that bright smile still in place. “Figured since I wasn’t getting paid, I might as well get comfortable. Those chairs over there suck.”
Laine tried to keep his gaze on Severo’s face, but damn, the little guy had some broad shoulders! “Yeah, well, small town budget and all. Come on back—” Or maybe his office was a bad idea. His step faltered and he was about to tell Severo that they were going to stay in the front instead, when the man’s smile widened.
“Scared?”
Oh, hell no! Laine met Severo’s gaze and swallowed his sarcastic reply. The man was trying to goad him, and Laine wasn’t going to play. He didn’t even glare—much. Laine opened the door to his office and headed for his desk, aware of Severo behind him. He’d swear he could feel the man scoping him out…scoping his ass out, mostly.
“Have a seat.” Laine set his lunch on the desk and sat, pointing at Severo. “But keep your damned feet off my desk.”
“Yessir.” Severo plopped into one of the two chairs in front of Laine’s desk, tossing Laine a lazy salute. Instead of irritating him, it made Laine want to smile, though he didn’t. Not even when Severo gave him a wink.
“Why are you here, Severo?” Laine might not have smiled, but his dick had perked up and it wasn’t going to soften any at all in the next few minutes. Best to get the man out of here as soon as possible.
Severo grinned and winked again. “Brendon tell you my name? Guess he must have.” He shrugged and leisurely swept Laine with a heated gaze. “I figured you’re gonna run a check on me, be the big, bad protective sheriff and all that. Plus, I think you’re hot.”
The and gay went unspoken, but Laine could see the knowledge in Severo’s eyes. The need to keep his sexuality secret kicked in as Laine worked to hide his panic.
“No. I don’t think so.” And that was as much as he was going to protest. “And I meant, why are you here, as in, why are you in McKinton?”
“I felt like I needed to be here, Sheriff. Make of that what you
will, though when you pull a report on me—you were still going to do that, right?”
What did that mean? “Of course.” And he would not feel bad about it, either. Laine opened a drawer and took out a notepad and a pen, pushing them across the desk. “You can give me a head start by writing out your full name, birth date, license number, and social.”
“I don’t have a license, but the rest, sure. Anything else you want? Need?” The man had the audacity to lick his lower lip and look up flirtatiously at Laine through thick lashes. “You just let me know.”
Laine refused to shift despite how uncomfortably hard he was. Why was he reacting this way to this man, for Christ’s sake? “That should be more than enough to get me started.”
“Okay.” Severo stood and walked around the desk, handing the paper to Laine, his thighs brushing against the arm of Laine’s chair. Laine couldn’t look away from the desire burning in those pale green eyes, couldn’t stop himself from inhaling deeply, taking in Severo’s scent. The mix of soap, sweat and a faint lingering cologne had Laine’s cock leaking, and he realized too late that Severo was now in a position to see just what effect he was having on Laine. His words confirmed that he had, indeed, noticed.
“I could help you finish, too. No strings attached. I don’t do strings.”
“Shit,” Laine muttered before he caught himself, heat spreading throughout his body. It’d been so long since he’d gotten laid, not since Conner. So long that even the thought of Conner didn’t dampen his desire, a fact that confused Laine more than it unsettled him. “I’m not… I don’t—” No strings? Could he do that? He never had before, unable to shake the thought that one-night stands just weren’t for him.
That he was even considering it was a testament to how hard up—pun intended—he was. He couldn’t do it, of course, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to lie, not while he was pinned by those eyes, his cock obviously hard and wanting what he was denying it. “No. I’m not interested, sorry. Not my thing.” Severo could interpret that however he wanted to.
When the Dead Speak Page 3
