Mara Fox - I Shocked The Sheriff

He pushed the door open, suddenly needing to get away from her.

She ducked inside.

Luke glanced around. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but Millie’s floors are clean enough to eat off of.”

She walked inside and then reached over to turn on the bedside light. She looked around with a smile. “It’s definitely brown. Not much better than orange but better than sleeping outside tonight.”

In the soft lighting, her red-gold curls resembled a crown. What would they look like spread out on the pillows? And her skin? Only a shade darker than the sheets, was it as soft as it looked?

“Who’s Millie?” she asked as she bent over to take off her sandals. Her position emphasized her long body.

His gaze clung to the seductive curve of her hip. His feet refused to enter the room. “Millie, the maid who’s worked at the motel for twenty plus years. She’s also in charge of the town grapevine.”

“Ah, gossip. It must be really juicy in a town like this one. Every once in a while someone must run over an armadillo. I’ll bet it keeps you folks talking for months.”

“This town has its moments.”

She approached the doorway where he hung on to the frame. She didn’t appear to be in a hurry to get a drink of water. In fact she looked like she had all the time in the world.

Did Carla move like that? Like she was honey in motion? He shifted nervously, wanting to be anywhere but here.

“What moments? Vandalism? Ice cream missing from the town’s soda shop?”

For a moment he floundered, wondering what she was talking about, distracted by her every gesture, and then he remembered. Crime. They were talking about his work. The work he never forgot. “Real crimes,” he insisted.

She leaned in the shadows of the door frame, her long, long legs and elegant red toenails inches from his boots.

Luke swallowed hard. “The porch light must be out. I’ll go and tell Lloyd. Good night, Miss Adams.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me about the awful crimes people in this town commit?’

Her eyes were deep and mysterious. He expected they would be mocking if he could see them more clearly. He would do well to remember she’s Miss Dallas. “Anywhere there’s people there’s crime. The sad thing about small towns is that most of the crimes are committed by people who know one another.”

“Crimes of passion?”

Her throaty tone reached parts of him he’d do better to ignore. He straightened up. “I’ve got to be going. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I’m going to be just fine. Maybe a little lonely.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. “This is for whatever you may need until the bank opens tomorrow.” He hoped she’d swallow her pride and take the money.

She hesitated. “It’s just a loan. Just until the wire comes through,” she confirmed.

“Sure.”

She took the money and stuffed it into the back pocket of her shorts. He focused on her face but it wasn’t much safer than her curves.

“I saw the restaurant. What is it, The Golden Pig? Will you accept a nice dinner in lieu of interest?”

“It’s The Golden Pan.” His tone had hardened.

“The Golden Pan,” she repeated tentatively, uncertainties making her look as innocent as a child.

She hadn’t meant to make fun of the restaurant, Luke realized. I guess I don’t have to be so defensive. It’s just that it’s such a temptation to see her again.

Too much of a temptation. “You can drop the money by the station if I don’t see you before you leave town. Just leave it with Bertha at the front desk.”

All too aware he was trying to say goodbye, his gaze touched each of her features.

“Would you like to come in?” She hesitated a moment as if she’d like to take the offer back, shifting nervously on her feet. Then she looked into his face. “I may be from Dallas, but I don’t say that to every man I meet,” she said defensively.

She trembled when the back of his fingers grazed her soft, flushed cheek. Her eyes were as deep as his fishing hole. Was this why he believed in her? This vulnerability that seemed so honest in a woman so bold and brassy? She’s such a contradiction.

Such a temptation.

“I can’t.”

She smiled. “Of course. It’s unprofessional. I understand.” She almost taunted him.

“I can’t because I’m engaged.”

Her head came up.

She searched his face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s been a hell of a day and you’re not thinking straight.”

She nodded. Then she lowered her head. She reached for the door to close it. “Good night.”

At the last minute he put his hand up to stop the door from completing its swing. He reached out but didn’t touch her this time. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

She nodded. Not looking at him. It was as if she was ashamed and only wanted him to disappear.

“I’ve never been more tempted.”

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