Page 2 of Falling for the Sheriff

I shake my head as I take my coffee and things to my office.

I set my things down and start up my computer before taking a sip of my coffee. I look at the sketch I left laying on my desk from yesterday. It’s a part of the presentation I plan on taking to the city council in the next month or so. There’s a meeting once a month, so if I don’t have this done in three weeks, I’ll have to wait another month before I can propose my idea. I thought I had it ready to go last week. I thought it would be done for this month’s meeting. However, I decided to add some outside features like, basketball courts, skate ramps, and a pool.

It’s my dream to open a youth center for the kids in town. This is a very small community, and there really aren’t many things for the kids. Sure, there’s a park, the school playground, and the lake, but most of those places don’t have a chaperone, leaving plenty of kids to get into trouble or be picked on. The rise in teen misdemeanors has gone up in the last few months. Someone needs to intervene.

When the computer comes on, I type in my login info and start going through my daily tasks. I make sure the server is up and running, start up the virus scan that checks over every computer in the office, and update the system for security purposes. While the computer does its job, I turn on the desk lamp and pick up my pencil to resume work on my sketch.

Other than updating the system and running security checks, my job is basically to just sit here and wait for something to break. In the last two years I’ve worked here, I’ve picked up many hobbies as a way to kill time. I’ve been designing my own website mock-ups for the youth center to put into my presentation for the city council. With the rising numbers in juvenile crime I see from working here at the police station, the sketches of what they’ll see in the town, and the website that pulls the whole thing together and makes it feel real, there’s no way they’ll turn me down.

Before I know it, the computer is beeping, letting me know the tasks I had set up are finished. It usually takes a total of three hours to update the system and scan every computer for security issues and viruses. I can’t believe I’ve lost three hours by sketching. I close out of things on the computers and look back down at my sketch. The whole thing looks perfect.

The building is modern with its sleek design, but it also holds a few architectural aspects that will make it fit in with the rest of the buildings in the city. I want it to stand out, but I don’t want itto look out of place, since the town was founded over a hundred years ago, and most of the buildings are old.

The front of the building will be a parking lot so it will look like any other store in town. But the back will have the courts and skate ramps. There will also be a little area outside where people can just sit in the grass and relax or where classes can be held on nice days. Inside will be the indoor pool that can be used year-round. The building will also include a cafeteria area where hot meals will be provided for the less fortunate kids who don’t have access to school lunches anymore due to summer break. There’s a community room with tables where we can do group activities, an art room, a few classrooms for when we start up classes like woodworking and SAT prep, as well as an up-to-date computer room where we will teach coding, typing, and other useful computer skills. All of this will be completely free to the kids, and it will not only keep them out of trouble, but it will also help them further their education in the summer and prepare them for college. I even plan on hiring some kids who may be looking for summer and weekend jobs. Just thinking about this project gets me excited.

“Nina, the new sheriff is here,” Claire says with a knock on my door.

I set my pencil down, turn off my desk light, and stand up. Glancing down at myself, I straighten my shirt and pull on my blazer. With a deep breath, I turn and leave my office, ready to meet our brand-new sheriff, who Claire probably already has a thing for. I laugh at the thought and shake my head.

TWO

Bryce

Iwalk into the precinct and am immediately greeted by the officer who mans the front desk. She’s wearing her black uniform, and her dark hair is pulled back under her black hat. She slowly looks up, and I can see the minute she realizes who I am. Her eyes are suddenly wide, and the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile.

“Hello, Sheriff Moore. I’m Officer Claire Thomas. It’s nice to meet you, Sir.” She smiles and holds out her hand for me to shake.

I shake her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Officer Thomas. What do you say about showing me around the place?”

“Absolutely, sir. Follow me, and I’ll show you to your office. While you’re getting settled, I will round the troops for you to meet.” She steps out from behind the desk and leads me through the building to my office.

The room is a typical office for a sheriff. Three of the four walls are windows with silver metal blinds. There’s a desk in the center of the room with two chairs in front of it and a row of filing cabinets behind it.

“Here it is. I’ll go and gather everyone up.” She rushes out of the room while I’m left standing in the center of the room.

I turn and look out the windows at the officers sitting at their desk while Claire rushes to tell everyone about my arrival. Most of the men are laughing and joking until they hear that I’m here. Then their smiles are wiped away and replaced with a more serious look. I walk out of my office to address the team. The last woman to join causes my breath to hitch in my throat.

Her blue eyes lock on mine before they quickly pull away. She looks nervous, with her fingers lacing together in front of her, but she straightens her back and squares her shoulders as she raises her chin. Her eyes find mine again, and she wets her thick, plump lips. Her chest is rising and falling quickly as she catches her breath. I can’t help but look her up and down. She’s dressed nicely in a black dress suit. Her white shirt is buttoned up the center, her big chest pulling at the front. Her blond hair is pulled back into a tight, sleek bun, and I can’t help but picture my hands running through it.

I realize I’ve been staring too long by the way her eyes grow wide. It’s like she’s saying, “stop staring at me, you idiot, and pay attention.” I clear my throat.

“Everyone, I’m Bryce Moore, and I’ll be the new sheriff in town. I recently transferred in from Denver. I’ve been on the police force for the last seventeen years. I joined right out of high school and have been working ever since.” I look them all over as they stand at attention in a long line in front of me. “I know I look like a no-nonsense type of guy, and while we’re here at work, that is true. But I also like to cut loose, and I plan on taking everyone for a round of drinks every Friday. That is the time to mess around and joke. While we’re here, I want everyone to keep things professional. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” they all say in unison.

“I also like to keep an open-door policy, for all of you and anyone from town who would like to speak to me directly. I feel we all work better if you know there’s always someone hereto talk to about business and personal matters if you see fit. Anything that could affect you on the job. So, don’t forget,” I hold up my index finger. “Keep it professional in the office and on the streets. We’ll have time to kick back at the end of the week.” I hold up my second finger. “My door is always open, and I’m free to talk about anything and everything. Now, let’s get back to work.”

When I dismiss everyone, they go back to work. I turn to head toward my office, but Claire brings the blonde woman to my side. “Sheriff Moore, this is Nina Waters. She’s our IT administrator. She will go back to your office with you and get you all logged in to the computers.” She offers up a smile before walking away.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Waters.” I hold out my hand.

She smiles and slides her small hand into mine. “Please, just call me Nina, Sheriff Moore.”

The moment her hand is in mine, it bursts out with a fit of tingles that travel up my arm. “If I have to call you Nina, you can call me Bryce.”

She shies away. “Okay, sir—er, I mean, Bryce.”

I can’t help but laugh at her shyness and innocence. “Shall we?”

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