by Ramona Gray
I stared in quiet disbelief at my grandmother standing in front of us. She held a heavy ceramic plate in one hand, and I watched as a cookie, clinging tenuously to the smooth surface, slowly slid down the plate and landed on Ruby’s back.
“Nana?” I said.
She gave me a shaky smile before holding out the plate in her hand. “I didn’t even break the plate.” She glanced at Ruby’s prone body. “Oh dear, do you think I killed her? I hope not. I’m too pretty for prison.”
* * *
“Sheriff Roberts, are you sure I can’t interest you in some cookies to take home?” Nana held out the Tupperware container and gave my boss a sweet smile.
“Well, maybe just this once.” Grant took the cookies from her. “Thanks, Martha.”
“You’re so welcome.” She waved across the street at the group of neighbours who had gathered and were unabashedly gawking at the four police vehicles parked in and around Nana’s driveway.
“Hi, Helen!” Nana shouted.
As Alex pulled out of the driveway, I stared at the back door. Thanks to the tinted windows, I couldn’t see Ruby sitting there, her hands handcuffed behind her back and one hell of a goose egg on the back of her head, but I could picture her face. It’d probably be a long time before I stopped seeing her face.
“You okay, Wyatt?” Grant asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll come back to the station and write -”
“Nah,” Grant shook his head, “it can wait until tomorrow. Take the rest of the day off.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, thanks.”
The sheriff and the rest of my coworkers left, leaving just me and Nana standing in the driveway. The neighbours drifted away one by one, and Nana smiled at me. “You should go to her, honey.”
“Nana, are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Why would you ask that?”
“Um, because you knocked a woman out cold with a plate of cookies? A woman who was about to shoot your grandson.”
“Pshh,” she said with a wave of her hand, “that was nothing. You forget I coached high school basketball for years. If I can handle a bunch of hormone-filled teenage girls, I can handle a crazy stalker with a gun.”
My laugh was shaky. “Yeah.”
She stepped close and took my shoulders in her hands, peering up at me. “Are you okay, dear heart?”
“I think so. Just really glad that you decided to stop by with a plate of cookies.”
She smiled. “Me too. You know, your grandpa always said that my cookies were deadly, but he really had no idea, did he?”
“No, I guess not.”
She studied me closely before putting her arms around me and hugging me hard. I returned her hug. “I love you, Nana. Thank you.”
“I love you too, sweet boy. So much. Now, go to Maggie. I know she’s upset, and she needs you. The both of you can come by the house tomorrow night for dinner. All right?”
“All right.” I kissed her cheek and she gave me another hard squeeze before patting my face.
“Go on now.”
She headed toward the house and I walked to the guest house. I let myself in, taking off my boots and hanging my jacket on the hooks. The kitchen chair had been returned and I frowned at the mess of rope and duct tape that was piled on the table. I would take it out back to the firepit and burn it, I decided. But first…
“Maggie? Baby, where are you?”
“I’m in the bedroom.” Her voice was muffled and distant, despite the door being open.
I walked into the room. “Baby, are you – what are you doing?”
She came out of the closet, her arms stuffed full of clothes. She tossed them haphazardly into the open suitcase and slammed the lid shut, zipping it closed. “I’m packing my stuff.”
“Why?” I said.
She gave me a look like she thought I might have been the one cracked over the head with a plate of my grandmother’s cookies. “I’m not leaving my stuff here.”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to stay in the guesthouse, baby, I get it. But you don’t need to pack everything up tonight. Just bring a few days’ worth of clothes to my place and we can come back later and pack up everything else.”
She paused in the doorway of her closet, more clothes tangled up in her arms. “Your place? I’m – I’m not going to your place, Wyatt.”
“Where are you going then?”
“I don’t know.” She threw another load of clothes in the second suitcase. “I’ll figure it out later.”
“Magnolia, stop.” I walked toward her and pulled her into my arms. “Why are you leaving?”
“Why am I leaving?” Her face was a mask of disbelief. “I almost got you killed, Wyatt. You almost died and your nana almost died, and it was all my fault.”
“Technically,” I said with a small grin, “it was my fault for giving you that ticket.”
“This isn’t funny,” she said. “Ruby almost killed you, would have killed you, if…”
Her face contorted and I pressed her head against my chest, rocking her back and forth a little. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”
She sobbed hard for a few minutes before wiping her face and lifting her head to stare at me. “Why don’t you hate me?”
“Magnolia, I love you.”
More tears ran down her face and I kissed them away. “It’s not your fault, baby.”
“It is,” she said. “It is my fault.”
“It isn’t.” I gave her a firm little shake. “You are not responsible for Ruby being batshit crazy. Do you hear me? You did all the right things – you cut off contact, you got a restraining order, and, when she still went after you, you -”
“I ran away,” she said dully. “I ran like a coward and -”
“You ended up exactly where you were supposed to be. In my arms,” I said. “I love you and I know you love me too.”
“I do,” she said. “I love you so much.”
“Then, that’s all that matters,” I said.
“Is it?” There was a note of hope in her voice.
“Yes,” I replied. “You’re my girl, Magnolia Blossom, and I’m never letting you go.”
She gave me a soft smile. “I’m your girl.”
Please enjoy an excerpt of “The Paramedic”, Book Nine in the Working Men Series.
The Paramedic is available for preorder HERE
The Paramedic
Working Men Series Book Nine
Copyright © 2019 Ramona Gray
Matt
“I know why you always pick this booth, Matt.”
I ignored my best friend, Jonah, and scanned the diner. I didn’t see her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t working today. She could be in the back.
I cracked my knuckles and tapped my foot impatiently against the worn linoleum floor. The Farmhouse Diner had been around for as long as I could remember. I’d sat at the long, curved counter with my feet dangling, and my five-year-old self slurping up milkshakes while my dad flirted with the waitresses.
Back then, the walls were more of a cream colour, rather than their current spoiled milk colour, the counter was spotless and chip free, and the booths hadn’t yet shown the wear and tear they did now.
The food was good, but was it good enough to come back here every damn day for lunch? Hell, no. I’d had to increase my gym time by nearly half an hour just to mitigate the damage that eating the greasy food was doing to me. I wasn’t a total gym rat like my friend Elijah, but I liked to keep the six-pack firm for the ladies.
Ladies? What ladies? You haven’t been laid in over nine months.
“Mattie!”
I turned to Jonah. “What?”
“I said, if you’re going to force me to meet you here every damn time we have lunch together, then you’re gonna have to start paying me gas money. The diner isn’t exactly close to my office, ya douche.”
“Oh please,” I snorted. “It
takes ten minutes to get everywhere in this place. It’s one of the benefits of living in a small town.”
I scanned the diner again. Shit, was she not here? She always worked Tuesday during the day.
“Maybe she isn’t working today.” Jonah echoed my thoughts.
“She always works Tuesday,” I said. “Monday to Wednesday, she works the day shift, she’s off Thursday, Friday and Saturday she works evening shifts and off again on Sunday.”
There was silence and I stopped scanning the diner long enough to glance at Jonah. The look on his face made dull heat burn in my cheeks. “What?”
“You’re sounding a little stalkerish, dude,” Jonah said.
“No, I’m not.” My voice was defensive. “If I was a stalker, I’d know where she lived, how old she was, what her middle name was… shit like that.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Jonah studied the menu. “Hmm…do I want the greasy burger or the weirdly greasy chicken sandwich. So many decisions.”
“The food is good here,” I said. “Don’t be a dick.”
Jonah just grinned at me. “What are you doing this weekend? You wanna go out with Claire and me? We’re thinking of going -”
“Let me guess… bowling,” I replied.
Jonah just shrugged. “Probably.”
“I can’t. I’m hanging out with Mia and Elijah this weekend.”
Jonah leaned forward. “Is it seriously not awkward between the three of you?”
“I told you it wasn’t,” I said. “We’re friends.”
“Okay, sure. But, let’s not forget that Mia showed up to your place a few months ago wearing very little clothing in an attempt to seduce you. Then, when you turned her down, she started dating your very good friend Elijah. And you’re telling me that the three of you hang out like you’re one big happy family without any weirdness at all.”
I shrugged. “Maybe there was a little at the beginning, but not now. I’m honestly happy for Mia, you know? After you, she’s my best friend. Elijah is a great guy and it’s obvious that they love each other.”
“You don’t think that Elijah was a rebound for her after you told her you would only ever be friends?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t. I’ve worked with Mia for over three years and she might come across as quiet and a little on the shy side, but she knows what she wants. Maybe she thought she was in love with me, but the way she looks at Elijah? Man, she’s never once looked at me like that.”
“All right.” Jonah closed the menu. “So, are you ever gonna ask Natalia out or what?”
“I did,” I reminded him. “She turned me down flat.”
“Yet,” Jonah looked around the diner, “here we are.”
I ignored him, my heart tripling in beat when the door leading into the kitchen swung open and Natalia walked out. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, she wasn’t wearing make-up, and that salmon-coloured uniform washed out her pale skin to the point that if I were on duty, I’d ask to check her vitals just to make sure she wasn’t gonna pass out on me.
She looked a little tired and out of sorts and despite the sturdy, practical, and not at all sexy running shoes she wore, she limped just the slightest bit.
“She looks tired today,” Jonah said.
I glared at him. “Knock it off. She works a lot. It’s hard being a single mother.”
Jonah gave me a thoughtful look. “Jesus, you really do have it bad for her.”
I didn’t reply. I pulled at my t-shirt, smoothing it down, and rubbing a hand over my jaw. Fuck, I should have shaved today. Natalia seemed like the type of woman who liked clean-shaven men.
Her gaze landed on us and my stomach clenched at the look that came over her face. One part annoyance, one part resignation, and one part do-not-fuck-with-me-today. She planted a tense smile on her face and walked toward our booth.
“Man, she looks pissed,” Jonah said.
I wanted to argue, but there was no point. She was pissed.
Natalia Dixon, waitress, single mother, and the woman I’d fallen madly in love with, hated my guts.
* * *
The Paramedic is available for preorder HERE
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Books by Ramona Gray:
Individual Books
The Escort
Saving Jax
The Assistant
One Night
Sharing Del
Other World Series
The Vampire’s Kiss (Book One)
The Vampire’s Love (Book Two)
The Shifter’s Mate (Book Three)
Rescued By The Wolf (Book Four)
Claiming Quinn (Book Five)
Choosing Rose (Book Six)
Undeniable Series
Undeniably His
Undeniably Hers
Undeniably Theirs
Working Men Series
The Mechanic
The Carpenter
The Bartender
The Welder
The Electrician
The Landscaper
The Firefighter
The Cop
The Paramedic
