Page 23 of A Little Naughty

Piper is going to hate this story, but all the old ladies in town are going to love it.

CHAPTER6

RAIF

Martha had me underground all day sorting the shit in her doomsday cellar. She has an impressive collection of radios and army surplus blankets and giant cans of soup and bleach and dry oatmeal.

She gave all the paper products to Adam Stone for the community center, but I told her to hang onto her equipment. I mean, who knows, right?

She keeps me so late, I don’t have time to go home and shower before meeting Jemima at the newspaper office. I rake my fingers through my hair then pull a plaid shirt out of the side panel on my bike and slip it over my shoulders. I don’t look professional, but I look better than I did in just a T-shirt and jeans.

I do a sniff test, and my deodorant seems to be holding. Lucky I wasn’t working in the yard all day or I’d have to cancel.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I walk the short distance from Martha’s house to the EurekaGazette.

First Street curves around and comes up behind the main drag where it reconnects to Main Street. Everything in Eureka is connected that way, in ever-expanding circles.

The lights are on when I get to the small building, and I stand outside for a few seconds, watching her working at the large computer up front. She’s so pretty.

Her curly hair hangs over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a green, long-sleeved sweater. Her lips are full and red, and her brows are furrowed as she studies the screen in front of her.

I don’t know what to make of my feelings for her. I’ve always had women hanging around, but I’ve never thought much about any of them.

I’ve never tracked the flicker of emotion in a woman’s eyes, the quirk of her lips, the arch of her brow, hoping to uncover how she’s feeling.

As if she can feel me watching, her gaze blinks to mine, and it’s like a lightning strike through the glass, fusing my feet to the ground and humming in my veins.

What the fuck do I do with this reaction? It feels dangerous, especially knowing who she’s related to—specifically, Sheriff Aiden Stone.

A smile breaks across her face, and she looks away quickly, rounding the desk and coming to open the door.

I hear the turn of the lock, and she steps outside. “Hey! Have you been out here long? Come inside. It’s chilly tonight.”

Is it?I’m warm. It’s the male moths who burn themselves to death on the lights, right?

“I just walked over.” My tone is calm, controlled through years of practice. “Looked like you were doing something important.”

“Oh.” She shakes her head, motioning to the screen. “I’m just working on the layout for the Valentine’s Day ads. People can send pictures or poems or pretty much anything. We’re running all of them, but still it all has to look nice…”

Her voice breaks off, and she clears her throat, looking down. “Sorry. Are you ready to do the interview? Can I get you a coffee or a water or something?”

“I don’t guess you’d like a beer?” I’m mostly teasing, but her eyes widen.

“That’s not a bad idea! Why don’t we do this at El Rio? It’s always better to have a relaxed atmosphere. Isn’t that how they do it in the movies?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.” She skips over to the desk, turning off the computer and picking up a tan coat and a small purse. “Just between us, I’m kind of making this reporter thing up as I go.”

“You look pretty good to me.”

“Thank you.” She blinks her eyes, and I clear my throat.

We take a short turn onto Main Street, and the sidewalk leads us directly to the only restaurant in town. Herve opened El Rio about five years ago, and it’s one of the few reasons I’d ever come into Eureka besides work.

And now Jemima, I guess.

She’s walking beside me, and we’re both quiet, listening to our shoes on the sidewalk.

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