Page 4 of Falling for the Sheriff
Daisy’s Blossom Boutique’s logo is on it, belonging to a little shop tucked away in town. She’s a delivery person? I’d never seen her in town before. If she works this close to home, I’m willing to bet she lives here, too.
“Sorry about that. It hasn’t been a good morning.” Slowly, her eyes lift. Meeting my gaze, she stirs. “Sorry.”
All I want to do is draw her in, reassure her that she’s got nothing to apologize for. At the same time, my tongue is twisted in a thick knot, and I’ve forgotten how to speak.
All this time, hoping to see her again, and I can’t even think of a thing to say to her? Fuck that.
“No worries, it happens. I’ve had a bad breakfast from time to time.” Forcing a laugh, I rub the back of my neck. “Can I get you anything? How about water?”
The tension in her body seems to dissipate, her shoulders sagging. Slowly, her mouth twitches into a half-smile. “I’m fine. Don’t mind me, I always look this rough.”
Who is she trying to kid? She’sglowing.Her beauty has only seemed to grow. She’s still got that same shy look to her, the hesitance in her step.
I want to offer her a seat, give her a reason to stick around. Just in case her stomach flares up again. Keep her close so I can ask how she’s been.
Before, we were too busy to learn anything about each other. If I’d told her I was the sheriff at this station, she would’ve left me at the bar and found someone else who didn’t carry the weight of wearing a badge.
While I may have her body memorized, I want to fill in the blanks when it comes to everything else.
I still don’t even know her name.
Lowering my gaze, my eyes linger on her stomach. Despite her arms trying to cover it, there’s no denying the slight curve. Suddenly, my thoughts turn to static.
Could it be…?
No. Impossible.
Some lucky bastard must’ve found her and didn’t make the mistake of letting her out of their sight. That has to be it.
There’s no way she’s pregnant because of…
Sure, we didn’t use protection, but it was only the one time. Did she mention being on the pill? I was too worried about planting my face between her thighs to even think about asking.After that, everything else happened in a blur. Not because of the alcohol, but because things just feltright.
Fuck.
“I need to get back on the road.” Her eyes fall, and her lips pinch together when she catches me staring. “Um, congrats on the seventeen years.”
My mouth moves, a silent, useless shape forming words that die before they reach the air. It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to say that could change this.
And just like that, she’s gone. Abandoning me. The world narrows to the space she just occupied, now filled with nothing but the soft sounds that come with the station.
A brutal sense of déjà vu hollows me out. One moment, she’s real—close enough that I felt the warmth of her skin against my fingertips. Next, she’s gone, making me wonder if I’ve gone crazy and manifested this whole situation.
Every instinct screams at me to chase, to run her down, to pull her into my arms and anchor her to me this time. But my boots are lead, rooted to the warped floorboards. I just stand there. Dumbstruck. A statue of a man falling apart on the inside.
“Sheriff?” Kelly’s voice is a hesitant intrusion. She’s grimacing, and I don’t have to look in a mirror to know what she sees—every raw emotion is written plain across my face. “The mayor is on line one. Insisting he talks to you. He wants to know if you’re available to talk about… announcing your anniversary on social media.”
Julian. The name is a stone in my gut. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t give a damn about celebrating another year in a career I’ve devoted my life to. I also know better than to ignore a man who treats patience like a weakness.
A sigh deflates me, snapping the last taut thread of my stupor. “Transfer the call,” I grunt, the sound rough. “I’ll deal with him.”
The walk back to my desk is a forced march through a world that feels suddenly thin and false. By the time I sink into the worn leather of my chair, I’ve locked my feelings back inside.
The others won’t see it, but it’s something I’ll have to reopen once I’m alone.
A tiny, insistent light blinks on my phone receiver, demanding my attention. I can only give away some of it.
I still don’t know her name—the woman who might be carryingmychild.
