Page 11 of Brazen

“Thanks, Owen.” Cherylynn gives me the address and hangs up.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. A clean uniform shirt goes over the T-shirt. I don’t see any reason to get too excited about being in full uniform for what most likely is a stray dog. Slipping on my boots, I grab my gun belt, Kevlar, and drive across town.

I pull in across the street of what looks like one of the nicer homes in town. Stepping from my cruiser, I shake my head at the scene in the front yard. Toilet paper hangs from every branch of the huge oak trees in the front yard. I can’t decide if I should be pissed or impressed by the muscle it must have taken to throw the rolls that high.

Quietly, I close my car door. I lean against the front fender, my arms crossed, and watch as the voluptuous beauty with the riot of red hair rears back to let another roll fly. Based on what I can see, she’s been here for a while. I’m certain there isn’t a roll of toilet paper left at the grocery store.

When Eliot holds up both fists in triumph as a roll flies over the tree, I push off the car with a sigh. Walking up behind her, I wait until she spins around to grab another roll out of the package at my feet. She stops short with a squeal.

“We should really stop meeting like this,” she says after recovering. Without a word, I wrap my hand around her upper arm and start for my truck. “You’re not going to haul me in for a little redecorating, are you?” I stay silent as we reach the SUV. Opening the passenger door, I slide her onto the seat.

Walking back across the street, I snatch up the remaining bag of toilet paper. “Mr. Hamby?” I ask when a portly, balding man answers the door.

“Yes?”

“I’m with the sheriff’s department. It looks like a couple of kids were up to no good. I didn’t find any damage except for the exceptional amount of paper.”

The principal thanks me, accepting the package as compensation. We agree that filing a report would be a waste of time. With a final good night, I leave him to clean up the mess.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I turn to stare at Eliot. She, in turn, never takes her eyes from the front windshield.

I can’t decide what to do with her. I’m not taking her to the station for acting like a teenager, even if it is considered vandalism. I sit, debating as I thump the steering wheel with my thumbs. Finally, I slide the vehicle into gear and pull away from the curb.

“My car?—”

“Nope,” I say, cutting her off.

She doesn’t get to push me off my game this time. When I head out of town, she finally turns to look at me.

“Are you taking me to your lair to chain me to the wall until you can turn me into a skin suit?”

“It’s a thought.”

We return to silence. After a twenty-minute drive, I pull up outside of an all-night truck stop in the next town. I turn off the engine and climb out. I don’t bother to see if Eliot follows as I walk to the door of the diner. Stepping back, I hold it open until she walks through, her head held high. It’s all I can do to stop the grin threatening to spread across my face. Damn woman.

She chooses a booth by the windows, sitting in the seat across from me. A young waitress hustles over to bring us menus.

“What would y’all like to drink?” she asks. I watch as Eliot looks over the menu with a sigh.

“Just some water,” she says in resignation.

“Why don’t you bring us some bacon cheese fries and two coffees,” I say without taking my eyes off Eliot.

She opens her mouth to protest but quickly closes it when I raise an eyebrow in challenge. The waitress takes our menus, hurrying off to bring our coffee. Leaning back against the booth, I sling one arm over the back and study her.

“So you must think I’m crazy,” she says. It’s crossed my mind.

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

It seems more diplomatic than just agreeing. She looks up at me, her golden eyes meeting mine. She’s so beautiful. For just a moment, I forget what we’re talking about.

“I never get into trouble normally. It’s just…” She looks away. Her eyes fill with sadness. So much so that all I want to do is pull her onto my lap, hold her close, and assure her that whatever she’s going through, I’m here every step of the way.

But several things stop me. We don’t know each other that well, and I’m pretty sure she would hate being coddled. Also, I still have to enforce the law, and she’s running through it as hard as she can.

“Just what? Because at this rate, you might just get a cell block named after you.”

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