Rogue Hearts (The Rogue Series Book 4)
Page 22
That house could use an extra set of hands, no question. Eli was knocking out the home repair projects right and left, it was easy enough to tell. At least, Joe didn’t think any of the elderly women in the house were responsible for painting the trim three stories off the ground or replacing all of the porch railing. So, Eli obviously knew what she was doing. And wasn’t that just another turn-on? The idea of a tool belt dipping low on those slim hips, pulling down the waistband of shredded cut-off jeans…
But that place was far too big a job for one person. Especially if one of the Misses Devine was developing dementia or Alzheimer’s, the mere mention of which possibility had provoked that explosive response from the blond-haired, blue-eyed, unexpectedly sexy librarian.
Eli wasn’t interested in him? Fine. That wouldn’t stop Joe from being neighborly.
Besides, dropping by to offer a hand with the home repairs would give him an excuse to make a few more observations about Miss Millie. Joe had more experience than he would wish on anyone when it came to the elderly and how dangerous the world could be for them if mental or physical deterioration went ignored. In the city, there were far too many older folks who were on their own and struggling, with deadly consequences sometimes. Joe’s heart had broken every time he’d had to track down relatives and let them know the worst had happened. He never wanted to be called to deliver that kind of bad news to Eli Devine, so he’d find a way to bring the subject up again if he needed to, no matter how much it got him yelled at.
But in the meantime, he’d definitely be keeping an eye out for another chance to talk to Eli. The unexpectedly sexy town librarian.
Not exactly how I planned to come out to the town, but a date with that man . . . yeah, that would be worth it.
2
Eli thumbed off the flashlight as he broke out from under the canopy of the forest and the light of the full moon shone down on him again, illuminating the carpet of grass and ankle-high weeds between him and the lake’s bank. Twenty yards to his left, there were picnic tables and a gravel driveway where he could’ve parked his car if he drove, but he never risked waking his grandmas when he snuck out at midnight for a skinny-dip.
A flashlight and the path through the woods he’d been walking since he was a child kept his late-night excursions a secret, which was just how he liked them.
Not that the girls, as they called themselves, would disapprove. Hell, Gee would probably be pissed she wasn’t invited. But sometimes Eli just needed the quiet. Needed the lake without a ripple on it under a full moon, the night echoing with the howling cries of the loons. The squish of mud between his toes and the sweet thrill of stripping down and slipping into cool waters.
Between another stressful monthly meeting with the library board and the general anxiety that had been riding his nerves ever since that encounter with the sheriff the week before, Eli needed to unwind more than ever. Baxter had stopped by their house in the evening twice since that first visit, oozing polite helpfulness each time. The snake. Eli had seen the way Baxter’s gaze searched the yard and the house, hunting for reasons to make more ridiculous accusations about Aunt Millie, no doubt.
A small voice in the back of his brain whispered at him. He’s only saying out loud the things you’ve been afraid to. Eli squashed it.
No outsider is going to come in and mess things up for us. His grandmas had been his bedrock, his saviors, when everything in his world had gone black and empty. There was nothing—nothing—he wouldn’t do for them. And if that meant managing a little absent-mindedness and other occasional challenges, Eli was happy to do it. He could handle it. He could handle everything.
He just needed a little time to himself, though, tonight.
His flip-flops and clothes made a neat pile at the edge of the lake, just far enough from shore for the ground not to be damp. Picking his way through the weeds, he slid his feet over twigs and rocks until he found clear spots to place them, heading for the water bare-assed naked and loving the coolness of sweat evaporating from his skin.
As soon as the water reached his waist, he dove under and came up clean and wet, paddling around some but mostly just floating under the stars. Tension melted from his bones with every slap of a wavelet against his skin, the rich smell of lake water and dry summer heat soothing him.
The crunch of car tires on the gravel road to the picnic area would have warned him that someone was coming, if his ears had been above water.
As it was, the blinding flash of high beams across the lake’s shimmering surface was the first clue he had that his solitary escape had been compromised.
He sank under the water with a gurgle and held his breath, letting himself float just high enough to get his eyes clear. There were a half dozen people he’d have invited in without hesitating—his BFF Kalea, any of his grandmas, a couple of old friends from high school—but a whole lot more he’d rather avoid until he had his pants back on.
The incredibly bright lights, brighter than any regular car’s headlights, were shining from the top of the sedan parked at the crest of the gentle slope to the water’s edge.
A tall, bulky figure was silhouetted against the light.
“C’mon out now.”
Oh, great. He’d only heard it a few times, but he recognized that deep growl—practically vibrating in his bones, damn it—as if he’d heard it every day of his life.
“C’mon. I’m sure as shit not coming in there after you.”
“Easy there, Sheriff. It’s just me.” He treaded water hard enough to push his bare shoulders above the surface of the lake and lifted an arm to wave. The cool night air licked against his wet skin. This is awkward. He’d been curt to the point of rudeness both times Baxter had dropped by their ramshackle home. The man probably got irritated at the sight of him by now.
The figure blocking the light raised a hand and the additional glare of a large flashlight pinpointed him in the center of a widening circle of ripples.
“Mr. Devine? What are you doing out there?” Baxter’s voice was mellow, friendly almost.
Eli huffed a breath pretty loudly. What did Baxter think he was doing? Laundry? But he kept her voice calm as he answered. Maybe the sheriff would head on out of here once he realized Eli wasn’t troublemaking hoodlum, or whatever he’d come through the woods to investigate. “Just washing the day off me.”
Baxter sat on the end of the picnic table and propped his giant flashlight up behind him, not pointing at Eli anymore but shining up at the moon.
“That’s sounds like a fucking fantastic idea.” He braced the heel of his right boot against the edge of the bench and bent over, tugging at the laces. Kicked the boot off and pulled up his left leg to do the same.
A small thrill raced up Eli’s spine. He isn’t . . . is he? “What are you doing, Sheriff Baxter?”
“Call me Joe, Mr. Devine.” Baxter peeled off his socks and stuffed them in his boots. Then stood up and unbuckled his gun belt, folding it neatly in thirds and putting it under the bench.
“No thanks.” As long as Eli kept thinking of him as Sheriff Baxter in his head, he might not accidentally put his tongue in Baxter’s mouth. That was the theory, at any rate. Not that he could explain why the sight of a man who made him so angry also made him want to climb Baxter like a tree. He repeated himself, ignoring the sudden surge of heat in his belly. “What are you doing, Sheriff?”
“I have been chasing kids with toilet paper and more eggs than sense all over town for four hours now. I believe that entitles me to a reward.”
Excuse you? Eli sputtered and dog paddled toward shore, wanting to keep his voice down. As if anyone other than the sheriff could hear him hiss, “Skinny dipping with the town librarian isn’t a perk of the job, Sheriff.”
Aaaaand that came out way too flirtatiously.
“Didn’t think it was.” How was it possible Eli could already hear it in Baxter’s voice when he smiled? “But it ain’t breaking any laws either.”
“Are you sure you’
re supposed to do this while you’re working?” Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with. The man is taking. His. Clothes. Off. And you hate him.
He definitely hated the obnoxiously kind and helpful and nosy Sheriff Joe Baxter. Definitely.
“I put in my sixteen hours today. Just spotted your mysterious light in the woods on my way home.”
But Eli must have made him think at least, because Baxter walked up to the cruiser, leaned in through the open driver’s side window and shut the klieg lights off.
“Lucky me.” Eli muttered the words under his breath, but they still carried loudly in the sudden dark that surrounded him as his eyes adjusted to the loss of light. There was only one way out of the lake that let swimmers avoid ankle-deep muck and slime, and that way meant taking a naked stroll past the yummy sheriff.
Just what he needed: to freak out the new sheriff with a PornTube gander at Eli’s inevitable hardon as Eli tried to escape this way-too-cozy skinny-dipping party they were about to kick off. He knew himself better than to think he could keep his dick under control in that scenario.
Eli might not have much of a sex life in Clear Lake, but he’d managed enough encounters to know he liked being watched.
Just the thought of Baxter’s eyes on him was already making him hard, even as Baxter kept running his mouth.
“You go on and head home if you like. I’ll even turn my back, if you’re shy. But I’m getting in that lake whether or not you’re in it.”
Shy. Ha.
Eli couldn’t see Baxter’s hands, but he must have been unbuttoning his short sleeve uniform shirt as he walked back down, because he shrugged it off and added it to the pile on the table.
“Of course, if you want to take advantage of the chance to check out my ass, Mr. Devine, you just go right ahead.”
Eli almost inhaled a lungful of lake water.
Holy shit.
In addition to not holding a grudge about Eli’s rudeness, the sheriff was either the most liberal of queer-friendly allies…
Or Joe Baxter was totally gay.
Gay, gay, gay, gay, GAY. Or bi, which is totally close enough.
Eli’d never wished for a waterproof phone so badly in his life. The biggest piece of gossip he’d ever stumbled across and he couldn’t even text Kalea.
“What makes you think I haven’t already done that?” The laughter bubbling in his voice leaked out even as he tried to keep his curving lips stern and pursed. How was he supposed to stay pissed at the man, when Baxter kept delivering knockout punches like that?
Remember what he implied about Aunt Millie.
Eli swirled his arms and kicked his legs in the cool water, trying to decide whether or not he should get out. No doubt the honorable Joe Baxter would indeed keep his back turned.
Not that Eli really wanted him to. Gah. Being this conflicted was not a comfortable mental place to live in, where he forgot about being pissed long enough to flirt with the sheriff about having checked out his ass.
“Yeah, but I had pants on.” Baxter’s voice was muffled for a moment as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. “This time you can see my naked butt in all its glory.”
Holy shit. Sheriff Joe Baxter was stripping down to the buff.
Eli kept his voice level even as his eyes widened, and he prayed no clouds slid in front of the damn moon.
Definitely not going to be able to get out of the lake now.
So much for remembering to stay pissed.
He decided right then and there to loosen his grip on the anger and fear that simmered under his skin every time he saw Baxter, if only for this moment. For this brief escape into midnight, moonlit magic, before the real world returned with the dawn.
“What are you doing working so late anyways? Doesn’t the sheriff get the cushy nine-to-five shift?” He probably ought to turn his back. Baxter had offered to turn his. It would only be polite. Right? And there was probably something in the Clear Lake bylaws about local government employees not seeing each other naked.
He was still arguing the ethics of the situation with himself when Baxter hooked his thumbs in the waist of what turned out to be his pants and his underwear and pushed everything to the ground.
Holy sweet baby cheeses. Eli’s eyes had adjusted plenty damn quick. Praise God for the full moon in all its helpful glory.
The silvery glow shone down bright enough to highlight the smoothly indented curves of the sheriff’s perfectly sculpted ass. To outline the narrowing vee of his back, from broad shoulders down to narrower hips. To glimmer on the bunching muscles of his calves as Baxter squatted down for a moment to reach under the picnic bench again. When he stood, the play of strength under his skin was like watching an anatomy book in action.
“The sheriff gets whatever shift he wants.”
With that, the man turned toward the lake, and Eli sank under the water so fast he forgot to take a breath.
But not fast enough to keep from getting a good look. The hair that covered half of Baxter’s chest swirled between hard nipples and then down the middle of a belly that wasn’t six-pack ripply but still had enough definition to show that fantastic curve of muscle from hip to groin. Eli should look it up in Grey’s Anatomy, what that dent was that drew the eye, like reflective lane markers on a highway at night, to the heavy length of Baxter’s cock lying soft against his thigh.
Oh. My.
He popped back up above the water far enough to say something, afraid his silence after Baxter’s about-face would draw attention to the fact that Eli had clearly been rocking a deliberate stare at his naked body.
Just thinking the words his naked body kicked up a flutter in his belly and a heat in his face that made him grateful for the dark, even if the moon felt like daylight by now.
“And you like the night life.” Eli wasn’t sure what the hell he was talking about any more. Mostly he was just thinking about Baxter’s cock and wondering what it would feel like under his hands. How it would thicken and harden as he held it. The softness of the delicate skin and the idea that he might shiver if Eli dragged his thumb across the tip.
Which didn’t say much about Eli’s moral fiber, that was for sure. Not being mad for one skinny-dip didn’t mean he had to turn into mindless puddle of need around the man. But it was hard to stay aloof in the face of that much hotness. And kindness.
He’d gotten turned around underwater and now faced the opposite shore, listening to Baxter splash through the shallows where the mud would be sucking at his toes and the occasional slimy weed wrapping around his ankles.
“The night lift? Nah. Lucas and his wife are trying to have a baby.”
Eli had known that actually, but he was impressed Baxter had already gotten to know his second deputy well enough to get the inside scoop. Then again, Deputy Hutchings wasn’t exactly known for his discretion. The man talked a mile a minute and was twice as loud as a country mule.
The splash of a body hitting the water was followed by seconds of silence, and then Baxter slid up from beneath the water off Eli’s left shoulder. Baxter’s grin flashed white teeth that caught the light reflected off the lake. “I try to give him a couple of nights a week where they can do the baby-making at a reasonable hour. He takes over at midnight.”
Talking about baby-making—sex, the hot man is talking about sex—did not fall under the heading of safe conversational topics for skinny-dipping. Eli was suddenly hyperaware of the slick coolness of the lake water against his balls, between his butt cheeks. On the tip of his dick. He turned his back on the naked and very distracting Baxter and stroked away from shore for a minute, needing to burn off the restless energy that surged in his limbs.
When he glided to a halt, fifty yards off shore, he paused with his mouth at the water line, the cool liquid spilling past his lips before he spit it out, the taste mossy and green. The quiet splashes of a skilled swimmer followed him and he ducked under for a moment, popping up with his head back so his bangs streamed away from his face.
“Are you gonna chase me around this lake?” Eli demanded, wishing his voice would stop going all throaty and invitational.
Baxter’s cheeks bunched up although he kept his lips straight, which must have been hard with the outrageous nonsense that came out of his mouth. “I figure it’s my duty as a public servant to make sure you’re safe.”
Eli laughed out loud and a bird took flight from the far side of the lake, wet wings flapping.
“Skinny-dipping with you doesn’t feel that safe.” The night was still and quiet and his murmur traveled easily over the water. The entire scene was one hundred percent surreal and Eli didn’t think the water was the only thing making him feel all floaty.
The sheriff rolled over to float on his back, face up to the stars, and Eli felt the loss of his gaze immediately, tension dropping back to normal, not-naked, levels. “I’m not gonna try anything, Eli. Just swimming. Cooling off.”
He told himself not to be disappointed.
Baxter’s skin shone wetly like he’d been licked all over. Only his chest and shoulders, and the flickering circles of his hands, were visible above the water line.
You’ve got no business being upset that the man isn’t trying to make a play for you while you’re swirling around naked in the same lake.
Still, it took him a long time to relax. Twenty minutes of Baxter floating nearby and making occasional comments to the sky—with the assumption that Eli would hear them, he guessed—just about managed to do it. Eventually, the quiet and the darkness and Baxter’s calm presence worked some kind of magic, and Eli’s pulse slowed. Instead of tensing every muscle, he let himself relax and just . . . floated.
Eventually, Baxter rolled over onto his belly and glanced at Eli over his shoulder, tilting his head back so the water didn’t drip in his eyes.