Page 52 of Color of Love

Blake stood. “Come on then, I’ll walk you out,” he said, clapping Jim on the back. “Tell Hilda I said hi,” he added.

“Oh, you know my Hil, do you?” Jim asked, the note of pride in his voice was unmistakable and Blake’s affection for the couple grew. Of course Hilda wouldn’t reveal who Justine’s clients were.

“Just being friendly,” he lied.

They said goodnight and Blake went back to his desk, his thoughts once again returning to Sheriff Black. He flipped open the file and started reading again. It didn’t take him long, the file was mostly redacted, but why would it need to be? Likely because it held something incriminating. Blake had been investigating Black since Jim had told him all about his predecessor. So far Blake had only uncovered a pile of cases that contained false statements, missing evidence and a lot of redacted documents.

He had reached out to a number of witnesses on some of these cases and had received the same story multiple times. Witnesses had been visited by two men, most likely the sheriff’s cronies, because he couldn’t be seen to do the dirty work himself, and coerced into changing their story. It looked like the sheriff had been a small-town mobster, someone you didn’t want to owe a favor to.

Blake fumed at the idea of Sheriff Black ruling this close-knit, friendly community with fear. Blake wanted to make sure everyone here felt safe and valued and that they would be listened to. He was protecting this town now and dammit he would ensure he was protecting his people to the best of his ability.

The thing that bugged Blake the most was how Rebelle had gotten involved with him? She seemed like a kind, genuine woman. She ran an animal shelter, for Christ’s sake. How could she be mixed up with such an evil, violent and abusive man? Blake remembered Jim said she had come in to make a complaint of harassment. He would have to take a look and see if a file had been created.

Maybe he would stop by and visit her, just to have a little chat and see if that unearthed anything. Blake would see if Jim knew anything more about her, he was pretty knowledgeable on all the town’s history, maybe Blake could pop round for a beer one night and pick his brains. Jim was a good man with good values, the kind of man you could count on, and Blake was beginning to like him more and more.

He imagined himself and Jim talking over old cases at the kitchen table, over a couple of cold ones, while Justine taught Hilda to cook in the kitchen. Justine would drag Blake and Jim into helping them, offering samples to taste while Blake dabbled with her apron strings and murmured to her to keep the apron on when they got home. She would playfully slap his chest but then whisper in his ear that maybe he would be the one wearing it instead. They would all sit together and eat, and Justine would teach Jim Spanish while Hilda and Blake chatted about basketball, since he discovered she was a huge fan a few weeks back.

Blake shook himself out of the daydream. Where the hell had that come from? He was surprised at how right it felt, how peaceful it was, how perfect. He rubbed his chest trying to dull the ache that had appeared. Damn, this town was getting under his skin. She was getting under his skin. He had only seen her last night and yet he hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

He couldn’t explain how she affected him so much. Was it because she was working her way through his various problems? He’d opened up to her more than he had with anyone else, including Katie, and he was starting to like it. He liked that she knew him the most, that she wasn’t judging him, that she was helping him yet still wanted to be intimate even though she knew his darkest thoughts, like she still found him worthy.

Last night had been incredible, his jeans tightening as he replayed it, focusing on her begging him. He loved that he brought out that side of her, a side no one else had ever experienced, it was all for him. She didn’t put on a show of acting sexy, she didn’t do things to be attractive, it was all natural.

After torturing himself with thoughts of Justine for another fifteen minutes he finally gave in and left the station. Maybe he would swing by her place on his way home and see if she was free. As he made his way to the cruiser, glancing down the street, he spotted the light on in her office. Ignoring the giddy feeling that tried to overtake him, he left his vehicle and headed in that direction. The closer he got to her office, the more his excitement mounted at the prospect of seeing her, it was embarrassing really. He gritted his teeth and tried to convince himself that it was just because he wanted to hurry up and get her naked again, but he couldn’t fool himself, it was something more. Something he didn’t entirely recognize.

He was about to enter her office when he nearly collided with someone. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice anyone was around. He grunted in irritation at his lack of attention, he had neglected his training once again.

“Evening, Deputy Miller.”

He looked down and saw Rebelle standing in front of him. Her eyes wide and darting between him and the door to Justine’s office. She took a step backwards, then another and folded her arms across her chest, adopting a defensive stance.

“Rebelle, how are you?” he asked, pleased he had run into her.

“Fine, yourself?”

“Very well thank you,” he replied, darting his eyes to Justine’s office. If he’d been quicker, he would already be inside, and she would be in his arms. No one would have caught him but as it was, he didn’t want to go in there and have a witness.

“How is she?” Rebelle asked, pinning him with her sharp stare.

“I’m not sure I follow?” Blake replied. Shit, does Rebelle know about me and Justine?

“Yes, you do. I followed up with the vet and they told me everything.” Her doe-eyes lit with amusement. Double shit, busted.

“She’s doing great, her leg has healed nicely,” Blake said. His answer seemed to soften something inside this timid firecracker.

“I’m pleased. If you need any help at all just let me know, or swing by the shelter,” she said.

“You too, Rebelle. And I mean that, I know you tried to make a complaint a little while ago. I guarantee you my full support if you ever wanted to come back and make another one.”

She regarded him for a moment, she probably didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. But he needed her to know, he needed the town to know, he would protect them all, with his dying breath if that’s what it came to. Unlike their previous sheriff.

“You’ve probably heard this before but, I’m different, I swear you can trust me.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his card, offering it to her. His outstretched arm hung between them until she reluctantly took it from him.

Awkward silence hung in the air. She glanced towards Justine’s office and then away again quickly but stayed where she was. He couldn’t go in and have Rebelle see him, but she didn’t appear to be going anywhere. Why wasn’t she leaving? He was impatient to get inside and wrap Justine in his arms, bury his face in her hair and inhale her mouth-watering scent. Jesus, who was he? His level of need to see Justine irritated him, he didn’t want to become too attached. It was precisely the strength of his desire that made him leave. With a final, regretful glance towards the door, he said goodbye to Rebelle and left.

He stormed back to his cruiser. Getting inside, he slammed the door with more force than was necessary. As he pulled away from the curb, he glanced around and noticed Rebelle was gone, she wasn’t anywhere on the street. He drove home, not looking forward to a long night of cold showers and boredom. Hopefully, the boredom wouldn’t be broken up by any panic attacks.

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