by L. A. Fiore
Finally some good fucking news. “Anything else?” Hank asked, pouring a cup of coffee and starting for his office.
“No, that’s about it.”
“Good.”
Hank reached his office, closed the door and settled behind his desk. He took a sip of his coffee before placing the mug down and flipping open the file in front of him. He didn’t see the words, though; his mind was elsewhere. She’d been by to see him, and first thing in the morning too. He grinned. They were fucking picking up where they left off, even if he had to throw her over his shoulder. His grin turned into a smile. The idea had appeal.
* * *
The day was dragging. Arissa was tempted to drive back to the station, but what kept her from doing that wasn’t the talk it would stir, but the fact that she hadn’t heard from Hank. She had been by to see him twice, but he hadn’t tried reaching out. Maybe, like her, he wanted to talk face-to-face, but his silence definitely had her feeling a little uncertain. Had she blown it with him? The thought made her stomach twist in knots. She wouldn’t text him, but she was going to corner him later. They were going to talk. It may not go the way she was hoping, but either way she’d know where she stood with him.
It was only four. Two and a half more hours. Dropping down on her sofa, she reached for the remote when she heard a car, the sound was one she recognized. It grew closer, idled before blessed silence returned. The silence didn’t last, though, voices, raised female voices grew louder right before the banging started.
“What the…” Arissa dropped the remote and headed to the door. Glancing out the peephole, she saw an eye looking back.
“We know you’re in there. Open the door or I’m knocking it down.”
Hyacinth.
Arissa opened the door; Hyacinth’s cane was raised, ready to start banging again. Hya glared then greeted, “Took you long enough.” She didn’t wait to be invited in, pushing past Arissa. She wasn’t alone, Maureen strolled through looking amazing in a form fitting pale blue dress, silver heels and carrying two bottles of champagne. Mille was behind her in white lace capris and a hot pink halter-top, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a tray of cookies in the other. Jo held up the rear in jeans and a black tee that looked as if someone had gotten carried away with a bedazzle gun. She had a foil-covered plate.
“Change of plans. A before party. Thought we’d bring it to you,” Jo offered but didn’t wait for a reply, following the others. Arissa didn’t move, stood stock still, as the trampling herd of women known as the Belles blew through her house.
“Close your mouth, and the door before you let flies in. Where are the glasses?” Hya hollered.
They were like a tornado, but it felt good being included. Arissa did as Hya suggested, closed her mouth and the door then walked down the hall to the kitchen. They’d made themselves at home. The champagne was open, plates were out, napkins. The plate Jo brought was on the kitchen island, uncovered…a plate of what looked like pulled pork sliders.
Mille was splashing some vodka over ice, caught Arissa in the doorway and lifted her glass. “Pregame.”
“What’s your poison?” Maureen asked. “Champagne or vodka?”
Arissa didn’t drink hard liquor often and starting as early as they were, by game time she’d be good and toasted. “I’ll have champagne.”
“Well, get on in here,” Maureen said, then asked, “You see the sheriff earlier?”
All activity stopped, heads turned in her direction and the room went silent, a collective breath being held.
“No. He wasn’t there.”
“Now what do you have to talk to the sheriff about at the crack of dawn?” Hya asked, but the look in her eyes made it clear she knew exactly what they had to talk about. Confirmed when she said, “It’s been brewing for weeks.” A smile cracked over her face. “Damn, we’re going to have front row seats, ladies. I have a feeling the most exciting thing happening tonight ain’t going to be the dart game.”
Maureen handed Arissa a glass, she didn’t hesitate to drink half of it in one swallow.
Jo’s laugh filled the kitchen. “Oh damn, this is going to be good.” She reached for a slider. “I can tell ya the sheriff’s been a little out of sorts. Grumpier than normal.” Arissa’s head snapped to her at that news. Jo nodded, “Mmm hmmm.”
Arissa didn’t hide her smile before she took another sip.
Jo continued. “Watching the two of them.” Jo nodded to Arissa. “Sparks, hell, more like the fourth of July. Combustible.”
Millie dropped down on a chair at the kitchen table and sighed, “I always did like fireworks.”
7
“Yo, Moe. The party can begin,” Jo shouted as soon as she yanked open the door to the bar.
“Hey, woman. Get that luscious ass in your stool so I can liquor you up. Got your stool over here.” Moe winked before moving his eyes to Arissa then those behind her. “And the Belles too.”
Before they reached the bar, Jo shot Moe a wide grin then stopped causing Arissa to walk right into her. The three glasses of champagne had hit her; Arissa was feeling good. “Catherine and Henry,” Jo greeted. “You must have gotten here early to get a table.”
“Hank’s playing tonight. We’ve been here since four,” Henry said, then added, “Got an early dinner and now we’re just kicking back.” He looked past them to the Belles. “Ladies, nice to see you.” His gaze settled on Arissa. “And who’s this?”
“Arissa Haywood,” Jo offered before glancing Arissa’s way and adding, “This is Catherine and Henry, Hank’s parents.”
The champagne in Arissa’s stomach soured because the last time she’d talked to Catherine, the woman had misrepresented the situation with Phoebe…intentionally or wishful thinking, Arissa didn’t know.
“Nice to meet you, Arissa,” Henry offered, extending his hand.
“And you,” Arissa said before she glanced over at Catherine. “Nice to see you again.”
Henry’s head jerked to his wife. “You’ve already met?”
Arissa’s attention hadn’t left Catherine, so she saw the slight color rise on her cheeks, as if she was embarrassed. She should be.
“Yes, at the garden center,” Catherine said, then added, “It’s nice seeing you.”
“Where did you move from?” Henry asked.
“Charleston,” Arissa replied. “Where I grew up, and returned to after school.”
Henry seemed to pale slightly, but it was Catherine’s reaction that pulled Arissa’s attention. It wasn’t embarrassment now, but some other emotion Arissa couldn’t discern that swept the older woman’s face. “You grew up in Charleston? How old are you?”
“Old enough,” Hya muttered from behind Arissa, humor in her tone.
“You can say that again,” Maureen purred.
“Catherine.” It was all her husband said, but the censure in his voice was unmistakable.
“Sorry, that was rude,” Catherine apologized, as she fidgeted with an unused fork.
Maureen stepped forward. “Lovely seeing you both, but I’m parched.” She reached for Arissa’s hand and pulled her away. When they were out of earshot, Maureen muttered, “Nice people, but a little overprotective if you ask me. Especially considering who their son is. He doesn’t need their protection or meddling.”
Arissa couldn’t agree more. Jo reached the bar first. Moe greeted her. “Looking good, Sweetheart.”
“Like you looking, Moe,” Jo replied easily then turned her attention to Arissa. “You trust me?”
Arissa hardly knew the woman, but she answered honestly. “Yes.”
Jo looked back at Moe. “Two redheaded sluts, one Patrón straight up, a vodka on the rocks and the bottle for Hya.”
“You got it,” Moe replied.
The bottle for Hya…Arissa didn’t question it, though, because despite how much Hya had
drunk during pregame, she seemed completely unaffected. Jo pulled her from that thought when she added, “Redheaded sluts are delicious. Just drink it slowly or you’ll be on the bar dancing.”
“And she’s talking from personal experience,” Maureen chimed in.
Jo roared. “Sure am. Sheriff wasn’t too happy, but I had the time of my life.”
Jo settled on her stool. “Catherine is a good woman, but as you just discovered, she’s very nosy. She’s the head of the welcoming committee, so it’s a hazard of the job.” Jo leaned closer and dropped her voice. “But between you and me, even if she wasn’t, she’d twenty question any new female in town. She’s very protective of Hank.”
Moe dropped glasses on the bar when a male voice called from behind them, “So many beauties and so little time. Who wants to ride the Elmer train first?” He and Sal appeared, beers in hand, grinning suggestively until they saw Hyacinth. Their smiles turned to frowns.
“I got something you can ride,” Hyacinth said, flicking her cane. “I can make it hurt real good.”
“I hear Bob calling us,” Sal said, the two of them hurrying away.
Their departure caused another laugh from Hya. “I love fucking with them.” It was because she was watching their retreat that she saw when the door opened and the sheriff entered. “Now that’s a man I’d like to ride,” she said. “He can tie me up and tie me down.”
Arissa followed her stare, her heart jumped into her throat. God, he looked good. Remembering his mouth on hers, how every kiss was better than the last, it took everything she had not to jump off her stool and run to him. Instead, she looked her fill; dragged her gaze over every inch of his body. He was dressed in jeans that were so faded they were almost white, a stone-washed blue tee with a beer logo stretched across his chest, all tied together with a pair of Nike running sneakers. She waited, drew her lower lip between her teeth, willing him to look her way, wanting that dark stare on her so she could once again teeter on the edge of arousal.
“I want one,” Millie said, her words slurring slightly because she’d drank most of the vodka she’d brought to the house, but that didn’t keep her from swallowing down the vodka Moe had set down on the bar.
“Tell me about it,” Maureen purred, running her tongue along the edge of her glass of Patrón. “Are you immune, Jo, working with him every day?” Maureen asked but noticed her friend was looking at the sheriff too.
“No, and damn I love my job.”
“I might kill you and take your job,” Hya threatened.
“Why? Ain’t me that makes the sheriff all hot and bothered,” Jo replied.
As if he heard them, Hank looked over. His focus went right to Arissa. She felt his stare, her body tingled. Her thoughts drifted to his taste on her tongue, and how good his body felt against hers, and how she wanted his body over hers, under hers and inside hers. She licked her lips at the thought. His focus moved to her mouth, as he bit his lower lip. Her clit pulsed.
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” Hya said. “Moe, you got a fire extinguisher back there? Because I think it’s going to get really fucking hot in here, real quick.”
Arissa wasn’t listening to the Belles, the sheriff held her complete attention. Someone called him, pulling his focus from her. She watched him, the almost smile that was somehow even more knee weakening than if he were to actually smile. He knew everyone, walking through the place like he owned it and in a sense he did. This was his town and his people.
Arissa waited for the sheriff’s attention to drift her way again. She gave in to the fantasy of him moving through the crowd right to her. The smile was unconsciously done, imagining those long legs eating the distance between them, him slipping between her and Jo, her legs opening, him moving in, framing her face, his head descending…
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jo’s question ripped Arissa from the moment.
“What?”
“You’re all flush.” Jo’s eyes narrowed knowingly. “What were you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. She was thinking about all that muscled man between her legs,” Hya hooted.
Arissa choked on her drink. Hya slapped her on the back a few times.
“Hyacinth!” Millie admonished.
“I’m not wrong,” Hya said unapologetically.
“No, you’re not,” Maureen cooed. “But then we’ve all thought that.”
Moe heard Maureen’s comment and stopped doing what he was and flung the towel over his shoulder. “I’ll give ya something to think about,” Moe slid in between the Belles’ banter.
Maureen didn’t let his comment go when her eyes drifted to him and she winked before Hya drew her attention away.
“Yeah, but only one of us has the chance to make that fantasy a reality,” Hya said, pointing her cane at Arissa. “My advice, act first, think later.” Hya studied Arissa for a second before she smiled seeing agreement staring back. “Thatta girl.”
Hank greeted his parents before moving further into Moe’s. The closer he got, the more his body responded to her presence. The pull was so strong, as soon as he entered Moe’s, he’d zeroed in on where he felt the magnetic pull coming and there she sat. She even made something as simple as jeans and a tee look good. He milled through the crowd with his normal stops of greetings. And all the while he did his routine of socializing, he could feel her watching him. He liked it, a fuck of a lot. Quick thought went through his mind on what changed, but…who was he to deny her what she wanted or what he wanted.
He was trying to distance himself from Fred, but Fred kept going on about someone trampling through his bushes. It was his own dog, all one hundred pounds of him, but he didn’t want to believe that.
“Sheriff!” He heard called from the bar and saw Moe with a hand up, shouting, “The usual?”
Hank nodded and turned back to Fred. “I’ll look into it.” Before Fred could start the story all over again, which he would, why he’d gained the name Repeat Fred, he moved away from him. He caught her eyes when he was only a few feet away. Fuck. He’d missed her.
Before he reached her, Sal and Elmer flanked him. “It’s time, Sheriff. We’ve got some serious cash on this game.”
Hank reluctantly pulled his focus from Arissa, frustration humming through him to be blocked. He leveled hard eyes on Elmer. “You fucking seriously telling me you put a wager on the game? Me? The sheriff?” Hank didn’t give a shit about the under the table wagers that were misdemeanors at best, but he was pissed that as they talked, they were dragging him to the back of the bar for the game. Five fucking minutes, that was all he wanted. Billie was already there with his crew, throwing back beers and talking shit.
“You ready to lose your title, Sheriff?” Billie taunted.
Hank didn’t acknowledge Billie, glanced back to find Arissa watching, but it was the look in her eyes that had the grin curving his lips. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. It had been building for weeks, what were a few more hours.
* * *
Arissa loved darts. It had absolutely nothing to do with the game itself, but watching Hank play, the muscles in his arms flexing, his ass in those faded jeans, and the look he’d been giving her all night, the same look she’d been giving him, she wanted the game over. She wanted to take his hand, pull him from the bar to a dark alley and devour him. Cheers rang out, he’d landed another nearly perfect shot, but she didn’t notice because her gaze was on his ass.
He turned, but she didn’t lift her gaze; her focus lingered on his cock as heat raced through her body before her eyes lifted to find him watching her. He gave her a grin, she felt that, the heat moving down her body to settle between her legs. She reached for another redheaded slut; Jo put a glass of water in her hand instead. Dragging her eyes from Hank, she looked over at Jo.
“Hydrate, Sugar. With the heat coming off the two of yo
u, you need water more than you need a redheaded slut.”
“You can say that again. Damn, but I’m getting a fever watching you two,” Maureen said, reaching for her Patrón.
Arissa lifted her glass of water, but her mind was elsewhere when she mumbled, “I’d like to be his slut.”
When Jo touched her glass to Arissa’s, she jerked her gaze to Jo. “Wouldn’t we all, but from the looks of it, you’re going to get that wish.”
Arissa hoped so. She really, really hoped so.
Billie was in the corner with his posse. They were loud, but for all his talk he wasn’t landing the darts like Hank.
Hank ignored the shit talk and focused on the board; he threw his dart and hit the bull’s-eye. A loud cheer erupted, he grinned before he felt the hand clap him on the shoulder.
“Way to go, Son,” his dad said with a huge smile across his weathered face. “He wins again!” His dad shouted to the bar. “Drinks on me!” That caused an uproar of cheers from the crowd. You would have thought Hank won the Super bowl with the way his dad’s eyes were shining.
Hank felt Arissa’s eyes on him throughout the game. When he finally had a chance to glance over, she wasn’t smiling or laughing, just staring with an intensity that charged the air between them. His cock twitched, as he envisioned her looking up at him with that same look as he sunk slowly into her. He grinned at the thought, her eyes moved to his mouth. He let his tongue snake out and wet his bottom lip before he pulled it between his teeth. He didn’t think it was consciously done, when she ran her tongue along her own lips as if she were already tasting him…again.
A smack on his back took him from the eye fucking he was enjoying with Arissa.
“Great game, boy.” Mayor Grady told him and moved his eyes to Arissa. “She’s a looker, isn’t she?”
Hank tried not to be affected by the Mayor’s question since he knew he’d gotten caught staring at her. “Yeah, she is.” Then Hank said, “Excuse me.” He waved a hand to the bar. “Gonna grab a drink.”
Mayor Grady grinned knowingly and said, “Sure thing.”
