“Maybe you could cook him dinner. Show him how domestic you are. I’m going to text you some recipes as soon as I hang up. Or maybe-“
“I’ll call you tonight,” she said hastily, and hung up. Loch was stifling a laugh. “Don’t,” she said crabbily. “Just don’t.”
The sheriff’s building was a squat brick structure, with black shutters and a big sign out front that said Blue Moon County Sheriff’s Office, with a picture of their logo, which was a wolf howling at the moon. It was located in downtown Blue Moon Junction, which was what passed for a town in those parts. They were gliding into Loch’s parking space by the front door when the radio crackled again.
“Some kind of disturbance call at Terry Jones house,” the dispatcher said. “She specifically asked for you to come, sheriff.” There was an undertone of amusement in her voice.
The sheriff rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered. “I’ll take care of it.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, looking annoyed.
About five minutes down the road, they pulled into a mobile home park. The homes were small but neat-looking, surrounded by well tended little yards.
The sheriff parked in front of a house towards the back of the park, and as he and Ginger walked up the pathway to the mobile home on 3622 Sandhill Crane Court, he said to her “Brace yourself.”
“For what?” she asked, puzzled.
“You’ll see.”
They walked up the white gravel path to an entrance which was flanked by artificial roses in plastic pots, and the sheriff rapped on the door with his knuckles. The door flew open, revealing…a voluptuous naked woman. Well, not totally naked. She was wearing a bikini made of saran wrap. It was quite evident that she waxed.
“Ready to unwrap me, Sheriff?” she purred.
Then her gaze lit on Ginger, and her face fell. “What’s she doing here?” she pouted.
“Miss Jones. I have talked about this with you before. This is inappropriate, and a waste of county resources. You could have taken me away from a real emergency.”
“But-“ her lower lip stuck out.
“No buts. Next time you place a fake emergency call, you will be prosecuted.”
Her eyes widened with anger and shock, and she slammed the door hard before letting out a stream of curses. He turned and walked down the walkway, with Ginger following behind him and struggling not to laugh as they climbed back into his car.
“Soooo…I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that at one point, you did hit that, and she wants an encore?” Ginger said, struggling and failing to keep a straight face.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” His tone was irritated and he stared at the road straight ahead, but Ginger thought she saw a little smile struggling to break free.
“A little bit. Yeah. This will make a great story to tell the friends back home.”
“You in such a rush to leave us?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” she said politely.
Hell yes, before I accidentally offend someone else and start a full on war, she thought. Or before I climb on the sheriff and start humping his leg.
Stupid annoyingly sexy sheriff.
He harrumphed, and turned on the radio, flipping through channels until he found a country song.
Her cell phone rang, and she saw that it was Marigold. She quickly hit the “talk” button.
“Oh my God, have you had sex with him yet?” Marigold said.
“Why, hello, Marigold. You know, he can actually hear you. I’m in the patrol car with him. He’s like a foot away from me. So shut up, is what I’m trying to say.”
“Oooohhh! Did he arrest you? Are you in handcuffs?”
Her face reddened. “No, I’m not in handcuffs. How would I answer the phone if I were in handcuffs?”
“Good point. Hey, sheriff hot stuff! When you guys do it, you should do it in the back seat of the patrol car!” Marigold yelled into the phone. “Or maybe on the hood!”
“I am going to murder you when I get home tonight!” Ginger hissed, and clicked the phone off quickly.
Blushing, she turned and shot a venomous look at the sheriff, who was stifling a snicker.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” she demanded.
“A little bit. Yeah. So, you’re going to murder your friend tonight? Are you confessing in advance?”
“You hoping to put me in handcuffs?” She could have bitten her tongue off as soon as she said it. What happened to her promise to herself to be the only woman in Blue Moon County who did not stroke the over-inflated ego of Sheriff Loch Too-Sexy-For-His-Shirt Armstrong?
“Ginger Colby. I’d heard that big city girls were kinky, but I had no idea.” His warm brown eyes were like melted chocolate, and a smile curved his lips.
Her cheeks flamed red, and a sudden image flashed through her mind of herself handcuffed to her headboard while Sheriff Armstrong spread her legs open with his big, strong hands and... She pressed her legs together and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, praying she wasn’t leaving a damp spot there. She’d die. She’d literally die of mortification.