Cast the Cards

“Oh Lord, I thought we agreed to put that talk on the back burner.” Her mother placed her hands on her hips, and narrowed her eyes.

“What? I was just asking her how things were going, Seleste.” His eyes sparkled with mirth. Her mom had been at him for years about leaving his work at the door. Now that the argument extended to Savannah he loved giving her a hard time.

“MMhmm. Let me get my coffee before you two drive my blood pressure through the roof.” Her mother turned and picked up the mug, taking a sip.

“Woman, your blood pressure is fine. You do yoga every day and shovel that leafy green stuff down both our throats like it’s going out of style.”

Their playful banter made Savannah smile. I’ve missed this.

“Hmph. What are your plans for today?” her mother asked.

“I’m actually getting together with Carey Carr at the police station. He’s going to show me around.”

The atmosphere went from light to heavy.

“We ran into each other yesterday, buried the hatchet so to speak, and caught up. It bothered me the way I’d left things, so … we’re trying to move forward.” She kept her eyes glued to the light brown liquid in her cup, refusing to look up as their gazes burned a hole in her.

“That’s good, Savannah,” her mom whispered.

“Thanks, I wanted you to hear it from me and not someone else. Good news travels fast in this town.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy to do.” The compassion in her father’s eyes humbled her.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you two go sit at the table while I get breakfast started?”

“You sure you don’t need any help?” Savannah asked.

“No, I’ll be fine, and your father wants to talk shop, I’m sure.”

Savannah smiled. “All right then, come on Daddy, let’s go get shop-talk out of system.” They walked out of the cozy kitchen into the dining room and sank down on the maple-colored chairs.

“So tell me how you’re really doing.” The ex J.A.G. member knew all too well how much you brought the job home with you.

“I’m good, really.”

He stared into her eyes for few moments and nodded, pleased by whatever it was he’d found. “Excellent, now feed me some harmless morsels.”

As they talked she could almost allow herself to forget the danger that lurked around the corner, making every second spent with her parents more precious. She’d cheated death the first time. Chances were they’d go through elaborate lengths to make sure she didn’t escape again. The normalcy was the quiet before the storm she prayed she was strong enough to survive.

Dressed in a pair of gray slacks and a light blue scoop-neck top, she sat outside of the police station and texted Carey. I’m out front.

Her heart beat faster than normal, and her mouth went dry. Elephants stampeded inside her tummy. She’d passed the point of butterflies the minute she stepped foot outside the door on the way there. She did her best to convince herself it had nothing to do with Carey. I was never really good at lying to myself. If only the boys at work could see me now, losing my cool over a man. A sexy man with a body made for sin, tattoos I want to trace with my tongue, and a past that’s bonded us for life. She played things by the book and made justice her reason for moving mountains to solve cases. It earned her the moniker Sheriff West, which stuck. Lust had no place here.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the display screen.

I’m coming out to get you. Her pussy grew moist. Apparently her body had other plans.

She stepped out of the car, pocketed her phone, and mentally put on her armor. Damn. Carey was a vision in black as he walked toward her. The shirt highlighted his broad shoulders and the plain black pants featured the round, firm ass, her hand itched to squeeze and fondle. She drank in the sergeant chevrons and badge. Seeing the reformed bad boy in a uniform took her breath away. Desire simmered in her belly.

Ashamed, she glanced down. How can I be attracted to Carey? It’s the ultimate kick to the nuts to Clark’s memory. Guilt weighed her like an anchor.

“Hey, you made it.” He smiled.

“You doubted?”

“A little. I think a part of me was still waiting to wake up and find this was some alcohol-induced dream, and no, I don’t get plastered often.”