Page 3 of Falling for the Sheriff
“Oh, uh… right. Sure.” My stomach plummets. I don’t know if Jonah has to deal with this kind of stuff, but I’m making a mental note to tell Daisy that he may need a raise. The awkwardness feels like a physical weight when one is forced to be included.
As she disappears into the bowels of the station, I hug the flowers closer, their scent now cloying and suffocating. My heart isn’t just beating; it’s pounding. I’m not feeling so well.
Breathe, I command myself.Do not throw up in a police station.
From the other side of the room, a low, resonant voice cuts through the buzz of the fluorescent lights, a voice I’ve only ever heard in the dark, murmuring against my skin.
“You’re all killing me. What did I tell you? Which one of you fools ordered these?”
I turn, my body moving on a stiff, rusty pivot, ready to thrust the bouquet into this complaining officer’s arms and flee.
Then the room stops spinning. No, the world. Everything goes still.
My stomach doesn’t clench from nausea. It freezes solid. The air vanishes from my lungs because I’m not looking at a stranger.
I am staring directly into the same deep-forest green eyes that haunted my dreams last night. The same eyes that watched me, intense and focused, in the dimmed light of The Hollow Oak before whisking me to a random motel room.
It’s him.
The man who threw my entire life into chaos stands before me in a crisp tan uniform, his nameplate gleaming under the harsh lights.WILLIAMS.
Atlas Williams. The man whodoeshave a name.
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Atlas
My eyes are playing tricks on me. They must be. The woman standing before me looks as beautiful as she did the night I laid my eyes on her.
Forget the unwanted gift in her arms. Whoever decided to finally put me out of my misery by solving the mystery that’s been eating at me all this time is the true hero.
She’s pale in the face, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Then, without much of a warning, her hand clamps to her mouth.
“I’m going to be sick.” A threat that sounds far too real helps snap me out of my stare.
I move without thinking. Reaching for the flowers, I take them from her hold and pass them toward Kelly, asking her to set them on my desk. Then, I’m gently taking the woman by the elbow, leading her toward the bathroom.
Feeling eyes in our direction, I fight the urge to scowl as I glance over my shoulder. “Back to work.”
We make it to the bathroom, and I’m forced to let her slip inside alone. Like I’m afraid she’s going to slip out of my fingers just as she had three months ago, my feet feel like concrete.
Threelongmonths. Each day is the same as the last. Filled with regrets and left with the same questions on repeat.
Is she from around here?
Why did I let her slip through my fingers?
Will I ever get to see her again if I make the same mistake twice?
Questions I shouldn’t be allowing myself to have. Not when I went into the agreement for a one-night stand. I mean, a gorgeous woman wantingmedoesn’t happen every day. Hell, it doesn’t happen once in a lifetime. So, yeah, I went with it.
Figured I could clip the usual loneliness feeling that claws at me from time to time.
Why haven’t I been able to move on? Do the same thoughts plague her?
I don’t have long to think about it.
When she returns, she’s got more color to her cheeks. Her eyes dance against the carpet, and her hands find the front of the apron she’s wearing.
