communications center against one wall, four desks were arrange in the open space, and tucked into a far corner was a miniscule office that Kyle assumed belonged to the sheriff.
A uniformed deputy waited for him at one of the desks, and lounging in a chair beside it was Gary Handler, grinning like a fool.
“Enjoy your night out, Kyle?” he asked and winked at the sheriff.
Those full lips never cracked a smile. “Let’s hope he doesn’t enjoy any more like them any time soon.”
“Gary, exactly where the fuck are we? And how did I get here?”
“Better watch your language in front of a lady,” Gary told him, still grinning like an idiot. “You’re in Watson’s Creek.”
Where?
“How did I get here? Why did I get here?”
Now Gary laughed, a loud sound that grated on Kyle’s nerves.
“You told the little buckle bunny you’d follow her anywhere. This was where she took you.”
“Huh?” He would have scratched his head, but it still hurt too badly. “Then how did I end up in jail?”
“You got in a fight with some…Neanderthal who apparently wanted to take charge of your…buckle bunny,” the sheriff snapped. “It took four of my deputies to break up the fight and poor Charley Haggerty had to close the bar down.” She looked at her deputy. “Judd, give Mr. Mitchell back his belongings so he can pay his fine and get out of my jurisdiction.”
The deputy handed him a large plastic bag with his watch, his signet ring, his wallet and other odds and ends he’d had in his pockets. From a desk drawer, he removed Kyle’s prized black Stetson and held it out carefully. Kyle clapped it on his head, wincing at even that slight pressure, opened his wallet and fished out the required money.
“I want a receipt,” he told the deputy.
“Got one right here.”
As pulled together as he could be, he turned to the woman in charge. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me your name, would you? Since I spent the night in your fine establishment.”
She glared at him. “Jessica Wade. Sheriff Jessica Wade. But you won’t be using it again.”
Kyle grinned at her. Man, she sure was cute when she got her temper up. “Well, Sheriff Jessie—Can I call you Jessie? It suits your style a little more—it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You may call me Sheriff, and I wish I could say the same,” she snapped. “Get out of here and don’t come back to Watson’s Creek, Mr. Mitchell. We can’t afford your visits.”
Gary tugged on his arm. “Come on, hot shot. Let’s get out of here before they decide to stick you back in that cell.”
“But—”
“No buts. Let’s go.” He literally pulled Kyle from the office, through the door and outside. “Get in,” he ordered, opening the passenger door to his truck before jogging around to the other side of the vehicle. He cranked the engine over and pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the street and heading toward the Interstate.
“Whew!” Kyle leaned back against the seat’s headrest. “She’s a pistol, isn’t she? Mmm-mmm. A fine woman.”
“Aren’t you in enough trouble?” Gary asked. “Spending the night in a cell? I’d wipe her from my mind if I were you. Chasing tail’s what got you into this predicament in the first place.”
****
“I’m telling you, Kyle, you’re gonna get your cock in a vise if you do this.”
Gary lounged in a chair in Kyle’s hotel room, watching him stuff his wallet into the pocket of fresh jeans. Kyle had showered, shaved and swallowed what looked like half a bottle of acetaminophen along with two pots of coffee. His hands still shook a little, but he was considerably better than he had been that morning.
“I made a bad impression on Sheriff Jessie,” he said. “I intend to correct it.”
And do a lot more.
In his entire life, he’d never been sucker-punched by the sight of a woman until Sheriff Jessica Wade had looked at him through the bars of that cell. Jessie, he reminded himself. She
A uniformed deputy waited for him at one of the desks, and lounging in a chair beside it was Gary Handler, grinning like a fool.
“Enjoy your night out, Kyle?” he asked and winked at the sheriff.
Those full lips never cracked a smile. “Let’s hope he doesn’t enjoy any more like them any time soon.”
“Gary, exactly where the fuck are we? And how did I get here?”
“Better watch your language in front of a lady,” Gary told him, still grinning like an idiot. “You’re in Watson’s Creek.”
Where?
“How did I get here? Why did I get here?”
Now Gary laughed, a loud sound that grated on Kyle’s nerves.
“You told the little buckle bunny you’d follow her anywhere. This was where she took you.”
“Huh?” He would have scratched his head, but it still hurt too badly. “Then how did I end up in jail?”
“You got in a fight with some…Neanderthal who apparently wanted to take charge of your…buckle bunny,” the sheriff snapped. “It took four of my deputies to break up the fight and poor Charley Haggerty had to close the bar down.” She looked at her deputy. “Judd, give Mr. Mitchell back his belongings so he can pay his fine and get out of my jurisdiction.”
The deputy handed him a large plastic bag with his watch, his signet ring, his wallet and other odds and ends he’d had in his pockets. From a desk drawer, he removed Kyle’s prized black Stetson and held it out carefully. Kyle clapped it on his head, wincing at even that slight pressure, opened his wallet and fished out the required money.
“I want a receipt,” he told the deputy.
“Got one right here.”
As pulled together as he could be, he turned to the woman in charge. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me your name, would you? Since I spent the night in your fine establishment.”
She glared at him. “Jessica Wade. Sheriff Jessica Wade. But you won’t be using it again.”
Kyle grinned at her. Man, she sure was cute when she got her temper up. “Well, Sheriff Jessie—Can I call you Jessie? It suits your style a little more—it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You may call me Sheriff, and I wish I could say the same,” she snapped. “Get out of here and don’t come back to Watson’s Creek, Mr. Mitchell. We can’t afford your visits.”
Gary tugged on his arm. “Come on, hot shot. Let’s get out of here before they decide to stick you back in that cell.”
“But—”
“No buts. Let’s go.” He literally pulled Kyle from the office, through the door and outside. “Get in,” he ordered, opening the passenger door to his truck before jogging around to the other side of the vehicle. He cranked the engine over and pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the street and heading toward the Interstate.
“Whew!” Kyle leaned back against the seat’s headrest. “She’s a pistol, isn’t she? Mmm-mmm. A fine woman.”
“Aren’t you in enough trouble?” Gary asked. “Spending the night in a cell? I’d wipe her from my mind if I were you. Chasing tail’s what got you into this predicament in the first place.”
****
“I’m telling you, Kyle, you’re gonna get your cock in a vise if you do this.”
Gary lounged in a chair in Kyle’s hotel room, watching him stuff his wallet into the pocket of fresh jeans. Kyle had showered, shaved and swallowed what looked like half a bottle of acetaminophen along with two pots of coffee. His hands still shook a little, but he was considerably better than he had been that morning.
“I made a bad impression on Sheriff Jessie,” he said. “I intend to correct it.”
And do a lot more.
In his entire life, he’d never been sucker-punched by the sight of a woman until Sheriff Jessica Wade had looked at him through the bars of that cell. Jessie, he reminded himself. She
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