Page 42 of Blue Moon Mistress

“More fun for everyone.” I lean back, offering myself up to his lips.

This time, I hear the gravel crunch under tires, but it’s the wolves that alert me.

“What’s that?” Thomas asks, picking up his head and looking toward the door.

“An unwanted interruption.” I pat him on the chest and pull my shirt back down. “You stay there and don’t forget how much you want me. I’ll deal with whoever it is.”

The wolves scatter as soon as I step out onto the porch and look at our visitor.

It’s a familiar white patrol car. One of the sharpest thorns in my side.

He gets out of his car and surveys the clearing in front of my house as if he expects something illegal to be out in the open.He even looks up at the top of my small barn, tipping back far enough he has to hold his hat.

“What brings you down today, Sheriff?” I ask, leaning on the porch rail and plastering a tepid smile on my face so my annoyance isn’t so apparent.

“Good morning, Miss. Mathis. You’re as hospitable as ever.”

Derek Jones isn’t an old man, but he certainly isn’t young. He’s the sort of creature that hovers in the strange ether of… not quite agelessness. But I can only guess that he is between twenty-five and fifty. Beyond that… narrowing him down would require investigation that I neither have the time nor inclination for.

“Generally speaking, a visit from you isn’t a friendly ‘Hello’.”

His smile is tight, his eyes narrow as he glances around the property one more time. “Well, then, I guess your expectations are correct.

“Connor has complained about your dogs. You need to keep them leashed if you can’t confine them to your own property.”

“If I had dogs, I would.” Connor’s old, and he’s superstitious. He might have seen the wolves, but there’s no chance the sheriff knows they’re watching him from the edges of the drive, their ghostly heads peeking out of the bushes.

“See, now. Connor insists that you do.”

“Well, he’s wrong.” Even if I’d admit to the wolves, they’re notdogsand there’s no way to “leash” them. “Maybe Connor’s confused. If there are wolves or coyotes in the area… Or even a bobcat he didn’t see too well, he might have been mistaken.”

“Connor isn’t in the habit of lying.”

“Like I said. Maybe he’s confused. I don’t own any dogs.”

The door opens behind me, and Sheriff Jones’ too-pale eyes travel past me. His whole posture changes. “Good morning, Thomas. I didn’t know you knew Miss Mathis.”

“Hey, Derek. What’s going on?”

“Just an animal complaint.”

Thomas looks at me, eyes a little too wide to be genuine. “You had to make an animal complaint.”

“No,” he says quickly. “Connor—he owns the farm just to the east of here—he’s complained about her dogs not staying on her property.”

“But she doesn’t own dogs.”

The Sheriff’s face twists in a scowl, but it’s directed at me. “Connor is threatening legal action, so just keep them contained.”

“I mean, he can waste his money. He’ll have to have proof, which he won’t get, because I don’t have any dogs.”

“Whatever you say, but this is your official warning.” His glare disappears as his focus slides from me to Thomas. “You have a nice rest of your day, Mr. Howard.”

We’re both silent as he gets back in his car and gets himself turned around in the drive.

“Does he come around here often?” Thomas asks as the tail lights start to fade up the drive.

“Not really. He has to have areasonto get out here and those don’t come up often. But he’s made it clear on our few meetings in town that he’s not a fan of me in general.”

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