Page 6 of Daddy's Little Convict
Nobody went to jail for that, she angrily told herself. At least she hoped they didn’t.
Her stomach instantly bound into knots, which only got tighter with every step. He didn’t take his eyes off her once, not until she was within feet of passing him.
“That’s jaywalking, Miss Markle,” he intoned. “And that’s twice you’ve done it. Right in front of me, too.”
Folding her arms across her nervous stomach, she headed for the store’s sliding glass door and said nothing. All she wanted was to get her groceries and go home. But no sooner did she grabbed a cart, than did Sheriff Barnes shove off the post he’d been leaning on and fall into step behind her.
“License or ID,” he told her, pulling his ticket book out of his back pocket.
And now she had a ticket to pay for? Tabitha turned and frowned at him. “You can’t be serious.”
An eyebrow arched from behind the multicolored mirror of his sunglasses. “Do I look like I’m serious?”
She glared, seeing nothing but her own reflection frowning back at her. He looked just like his brother in that moment, except with a big, fat, shaved head.
Which was about when the guilt set in.
She sighed, pushed the cart back amongst the others, walked back outside and pulled out her wallet to deal with this. “I just want to get something to eat. I don’t want trouble.”
“Jaywalking is still against the law, which is why we have crosswalks,” he reminded. “It’s also not safe. Not for you or for the poor person just a-driving through town, who might not see you in time to stop. Also, it’s the second time you’ve done it in front of me. Time to nip it in the bud. License.”
Unsnapping her wallet, she pulled out an expired learner’s permit and handed it to him. “I’ve got my high school ID card if that won’t work, but it’s expired too.”
“I’ll make do,” he assured her.
Folding her arms across her chest, she watched him write out the ticket, which she then had to sign. When he handed it over, she snatched it from his fingers and glared at the $25 fine. “Thanks a lot—” She scowled at his signature. “—Jeff.”
Stuffing the ticket in her back pocket, she took her license when he offered it and then headed back into the store. Flashing him a nasty look back over her shoulder, she yanked a cart back out of the return.
It was hard to make a stern exit when one was driving a squeaky-wheeled cart, but she did her best. Halfway past the registers, behind her, the sheriff broke into a cheerful whistle. She heard the clang of another cart being yanked out of the return stall, and when she glanced back over her shoulder, there he was—Sheriff Jeff Barnes, falling into step once more behind her with a shopping cart of his own now in tow.
She immediately stopped where she was, turning to glare at him with her hands knuckling into her hips. “This is harassment,” she hissed once he’d caught up with her. “You can’t just follow me wherever I go.”
He checked the time on his watch, then turned it towards her and tapped the display face. “I just got off work. I’ve got shopping to do too.”
Heat flushed through her. That actually made sense, considering the alternative was that he’d been hanging around the town grocery store hoping she’d happen by. She was pretty sure this was harassment no matter what he said, but what could she do about it? Nothing, that’s what.
Get over it, Tabby. Get on with your life. Grabbing her cart, she marched off towards the produce section. Just as shereached it, she glanced back over her shoulder to find him right there behind her, his long legs having no problem keeping pace with her.
He was smiling. “What do you know? I always start with fruits and vegetables too.”
Asshole.
Gritting her jaw so tight her teeth hurt, she let out a slow breath, forced herself to calm down, and then got to work doing what she’d come here for. He was Starvation’s sheriff and her parole officer’s brother. There was no greater combination better suited to screw her over if she so much as stepped a toe out of line.
So just don’t.
She grabbed a cheap bag of carrots and a handful of apples, one for each day of the week. She had no idea how long she was going to have to go before she had money again, so the apples were a luxury. But she’d missed them. There was nothing like the fresh, crisp sweetness of a ripe apple, and the ones she’d gotten in prison were anything but fresh.
“No, no, no,” Sheriff Barnes said, coming up to the fruit display beside her. “Don’t take those unless you want mealy. You’ll be disappointed. Fuji, always go Fuji. They’re the best.”
He took the half bag she’d already filled and promptly dumped them back out again. He refilled it, this time with ripe, shiny Fuji apples. “Here you go. I’d advocate you try one, but… you know, not until you pay for them.”
She frowned. She also took the apples and put them in her cart. Without speaking to him, she walked away again.
Don’t follow me, she wanted to snap.Don’t follow, don’t talk, and leave me alone!
Frustrated, she abandoned the produce aisle altogether, but paused again when she passed the discount rack.
