Sweet Hill Homecoming (Sweet Hill 1)

“Seems someone has spray painted a phallic symbol and some crude language in red on the side of the school.”

“And why are you accusing Kyle?” She glanced at her brother. “Did you do it?”

“No,” he said firmly and Mia knew right away her brother was telling the truth. He was a good kid and never could look her in the eye and lie to her.

“Kyle’s name appears below the graffiti,” the principal said.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she scoffed. “You think the vandal would leave his own name?”

“Well I don’t know, but Kyle was the best person to start with. And since damage of property is a felony, we called the authorities.”

“You’re kidding? It’s red paint on a building.” Fear raced through her. The word felony was terrifying and she instantly worried for Kyle’s future. “And Kyle didn’t do this.”

“But he seems to know who did.”

Mia turned to her brother. “Is that true? Do you know who did this?”

Kyle glanced away and shook his head. Lie. He did know. For whatever reason he was covering for them or didn’t want to be the rat. He had similar issues at his old school. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t saying a word about the real vandal.

Mia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Where is this graffiti?”

“On the south side in the student parking lot.”

“Well, let’s go see it,” Mia said.

“I was just heading there myself,” a deep voice came from behind Mia.

She turned to find the man she left with his pants down and breathing hard outside a bar.

“Deputy West,” she said. “What are you doing here?” She ran a hand over her hair, trying to smooth it. It was useless because the tangles felt unfixable.

“Just responding to a call.” He did that grip the clasp of his belt in his thumbs thing that she hated—loved—no, definitely hated. “Protecting and serving and all.”

With her patience dwindling, her chest hurting in attempts to tamp down the fear for her brother’s future and now Deputy Hottie looking every bit the controlled man he was rumored to be, Mia was on the edge of losing her mind.

“Well, let’s go check this thing out,” she said.

~

Check things out?

Tate’s thoughts exactly as his eyes slid over the entire length of Mia. Did the woman ever not look good?

After seeing her at the bar the other night, Tate hadn’t been feeling himself. Funny how watching a woman come apart around you, ending your dry spell, and awaking some beast within could do that.

And Tate hated it. Didn’t bode well for his respectable image or his campaign. And now another Blake was in trouble? Perfect. But Mia just kept her chin high in the air, though he could tell she was nervous.

Tate couldn’t figure her out. She seemed to have a few different sides to her and he was having a hard time keeping up. She played him like a damn fiddle, knew how to work her power and Tate fell. Fucking hard.

Then there was this girl. In a damn apron and sneakers with messy hair and obviously tired already. Yet she had a determined look on her face. She seemed hardworking. Thanks to Luke, Tate now knew that she was typically up at the crack of dawn to open Annie’s Café.

Maybe Mia wasn’t what he thought. Maybe she had changed and wasn’t the demanding favors kind of woman he remembered. Plus, not once since their original encounter had her car been in the red zone outside the café anymore.

But jumping to conclusions wasn’t smart. Just because her former situation didn’t match her current predicament, didn’t mean she wasn’

t hell bent on proving a point, fucking with his mind—and body.

She however didn’t seem to care about his presence other than solving this vandalizing issue, which was a good indicator that she probably didn’t care about the other night either.