Page 47 of Chasing Forever
“Pawning my coffee off on someone else?”
There he is. Smug in his sheriff’s uniform, approaching me as though he already knows the effect he has on me. I need to get it together and fast.
“Saylor makes a great coffee, and it’s not like your order is complicated.” I distract myself, acting as if I’m way too busy to talk to him. I start arranging the chicken salads, shifting other things around. Anything to seem cool and composed.
Then I smell him. The scent of whatever soap he uses mixed with his natural scent.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”
I still for a split second before I recover, but I don’t look at him. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“You’re obviously upset.”
I make the mistake of looking up at Brooks, and it’s a fatal error on my part. His smile emerges, and a sudden urge to grab him and take him into the backroom washes over me. Thankfully, my senses return when the door chimes again.
“I told you to stay in the squad car,” Brooks says.
I turn away from the man who is starting to star in my masturbation reels and find Deputy Moore with his hands in his pockets and his attention on Saylor.
“You never got my coffee order.” He nods to Saylor in greeting.
“You don’t get a coffee. You were late this morning.” Brooks leans down and whispers in my ear, “The reason I wasn’t here this morning, and my coffee is now cold.”
I straighten up and blink between Saylor and Deputy Moore, seeing now who the warm body in Saylor’s bed was last night. He can’t stop staring at her, and she’s doing everything to dodge his attention, but her cheeks only grow rosier with every second that passes.
“What would you like, Deputy Moore? I’m happy to make you a coffee. Doesn’t seem like good work conditions if this one won’t let you have any caffeine. You might want to look for another station.” I leave Brooks at the fridge case and round the back counter.
“You’ll make his coffee, but not mine?” Brooks doesn’t take long before he’s at the counter.
“I made your coffee.” I slide the cold coffee closer to him on the counter. “It’s not my fault you weren’t here to accept it.”
“Moore,” Brooks growls.
Deputy Moore steps up shoulder to shoulder with Brooks, holding up both hands. “Lottie, it was my fault. We’re riding over to the county courthouse this morning, and I was late. I’m the reason he couldn’t be here.”
I look at Saylor, and her face is bright red, her eyes focused on anything but Deputy Moore. I won’t be a jerk and ask him why he was late. Not when the blush on her face gives them away.
“Thank you, Deputy Moore.” I turn away to make the coffee.
“Go wait in the squad car,” Brooks says. “Why don’t you walk him out, Saylor?”
I whirl around. “Saylor isn’t your employee.”
Saylor stops midway across the store, Deputy Moore already holding the door open for her to join him outside.
“I need to talk to you in private,” Brooks says through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low.
I glower at him for a second, and his face softens into an expression of please don’t shut me out.
For whatever reason, I don’t have it in me to fight him this morning. “Could you give us five minutes, Saylor?”
She nods and practically runs to the door.
I lean back against the counter, arms crossed, locking down every frazzled emotion. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t stay on his side of the counter.
Of course he doesn’t.
