Sweet Hill Homecoming (Sweet Hill 1)

“He can’t get kicked off the team,” she stated. “Especially when he’s innocent. Why can’t you just—”

“Just do you this one favor and look the other way?” he said so only she could hear.

She pursed her lips, not arguing, hell not even trying to argue. Guess he was wrong in thinking she changed. Mia was the exact person he thought her to be. Demanding favors, expecting people—him—to fall at her feet and give her anything she wants. But once again, some red paint stood in the way.

Plus they were in the presence of others. Which meant Tate stood a chance at not actually giving in to her.

“I was going to say, why can’t you just believe the best in people?”

He laughed. “And what would you have me believe? Look at the evidence. And yet even with the red flashing in front of you, once again, you don’t seem to care.”

“I do care!” she snapped. “But I know my brother and I believe him. Obviously this is a set up. If you were any kind of Deputy you’d investigate or something.”

He shook his head. Her words poked him like a kid kicking a wasp’s nest. First she accused him of being on a power trip because she didn’t get her way, then she purposefully seduced him, and now she was telling him he lacked skill in his job?

That heat Mia made him feel? The kind the bordered between rage and lust, redlined.

“I’m not a detective,” he said. “But I do believe in the truth and pursuing it. Not dishing out favors to whoever bats their eyes.”

“Well jokes on you then, Deputy.” She stepped closer, almost on his toes. So close that he could smell. Wild fire, apple pie, and all woman. Her eyes sparked with fury and damn if her whole snarky routine didn’t make him a little hard. “I wouldn’t bat my eyes in your direction if you were the last man on earth.”

He grinned and whispered, “That’s not what you were panting the other night, sweetheart.”

Her mouth parted and Tate heard the smallest gasp or was it a growl? Either way, he got to her, just like she was getting to him.

“If I’m not mistaken, Deputy, I believe you were the one who couldn’t walk away,” she whispered back and just like that, Tate was wishing he had another wall and some privacy.

How did this woman get under his skin? Fire him up in a way that threatened his prized self-control? In more ways than one.

Realizing they had an audience and wanting to wrap this up and prove Mia wrong, that he was in fact a diligent investigator, he snapped his head up and called, “Kyle.”

“Yes, sir?” Kyle said, taking the few steps to where he and Mia were standing.

Tate let out a long breath, gathering his wits and trying not to look at the hot little blonde that had him buzzing with so much raw adrenaline he couldn’t see straight.

“This graffiti was painted in the last few hours?”

“Had to be,” Kyle said, “It wasn’t there when I pulled into school this morning.”

Tate nodded. “Let me see your hands.”

Kyle held them out and Tate looked them over.

“No paint,” he said to the principal. “With spray paint on a day like this with the breeze, you can expect some blow back.” Tate looked at Kyle’s shirt. Not even a spec of red anywhere to be found. “I don’t see any sign that Kyle was near paint. Doesn’t smell like it either.”

Mia’s entire body relaxed. He could see her shoulders ease and her chest take a deep breath.

He couldn’t help but lean in and whisper, “Mighty fine investigative work if I do say so myself.” He winked at her and as he suspected, she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Maybe in Mia-nese that meant thank you. At least, that was how he’d take it.

“I don’t think you did this,” Tate said to Kyle.

“That’s fine and good,” the principal said. “But the problem is, the graffiti still remains.”

Tate nodded. “I think you know who painted the wall, Kyle. Either fess up, or you’re responsible for cleaning this up.”

Kyle didn’t take his eyes off Tate. Impressive for a kid.

“I’ll clean it up, sir.”