Curvy Valentine Match

Thanks to the much needed orgasms, I managed to add two specials to the board, which sold out as quickly as everything else, a fact I knew would make Shannon gush with unwanted compliments. I liked doing a good job, pleasing my boss, and not just because I had to. Bread Box was home to me now, and even though it wasn’t mine, it felt like it was.

Those orgasms fueled me through a longer than usual shift, and by the time I flipped the closed sign over and locked the door, I was only partially exhausted. More than anything, I was worried. Almost two weeks had passed with no sign of Lonnie. No early morning visits, no late night taps on my bedroom window in search of scraps and no annoyed eye rolls when I gave unsolicited advice. I missed the smart mouthed kid, but I was also worried.

It was the only explanation for what I did next, after rinsing the scent of butter and sugar from my skin, I threw on a pair of jeans, a baggy old t-shirt and my favorite pair of sneakers, and I went—willingly—to the Sheriff’s Department.

“Is Tara around?”

The middle aged woman with the brown ponytail shook her head. “She’s out on a call. Is there something I can help you with?” I took in her friendly, non-judgmental smile and shrugged.

“I hope so. I haven’t seen a friend of mine in a while and I’m kind of worried. She’s under eighteen and I, uh, I guess I want to report her missing.”

Her green eyes went wide with concern and she nodded vigorously, making her ponytail bob almost comedically. “Oh no! You’ve come at the perfect time,” she flashed a wide, toothy grin. “I have just the man for the job.” She pressed a button on the bulky, boxy phone beside her. “Sheriff, I need you up front.”

“Oh no, that’s all right. I can just wait for Tara.”

I heard the heavy fall of Xander’s black boots before I saw him, but not before I felt the sting of electricity in the air, making the tiny hairs on my body stand at attention. He was like a damn lightning rod for me, attracting me whenever we were close. Too close. He cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice low and deep and full of amusement.

“Why wait for Tara, when the man you really want to see is right here?”

I snorted a laugh and shook my head. “That’s funny, because there is no man that I really want to see.” No matter how good he looked in that uniform that seemed to cling to his muscles like a greedy mistress.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart. One of these days you might actually believe it.” He flashed a sexier than sin smirk and I rolled my eyes.

I’d love to believe it. Any day now. “I’ll just come back when Tara is available.”

“No,” he said, suddenly serious, all traces of humor gone. “Come on back.”

I took a step towards the door. “Not necessary.”

“You want to file a missing person report and I need a computer to do that.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and disappeared down a hall lit with fluorescent lights.

“It’s the last door on the left, hon. Don’t worry, Xander doesn’t bite.” She winked and shooed me off. Suddenly everyone is a damn matchmaker.

This place, a cop shop, was the last place I wanted to be ever again. Well, aside from kiddie jail, anyway. Walking down the hall with the flickering light, I was transported back to that night where I was cold and scared and alone. Two intimidating officers stared at me across a lopsided steel table and waited, expectantly, for me to take all the blame and clear the golden boy of all charges.

No, stop it. That’s not why you’re here. Lonnie, that’s why. Think of her.

That thought propelled me forward, to the last door on the left, where Xander stood behind his desk until I took the seat in front of it. “Thought you might chicken out.”

“Think again,” I told him and let out a low, shaky breath. “Lonnie still hasn’t surfaced and I’m officially worried.”

“Must be if you came to me.”

“I didn’t come to you,” I reminded him. “I came to Tara.”

“I’m the Sheriff and she is an extension of me, whether you like it or not.”

I nodded at his firm words and pulled out my phone. “Lonnie Frazier, age sixteen. Red hair, blue eyes, about five-four maybe five-six, one hundred ten pounds. What else?”

“Where did you last see her?”

“At the bakery.”

Xander’s fingers hen-pecked the keyboard, his gaze focused on the screen. “So, where have you been?”

“Where I always am, working at the bakery or at home.” I’d even avoided The Mayflower in an effort to avoid him.

“What was she wearing?” I gave as detailed a description as I could remember, squeezing my eyes tight to get everything right. “What do you hope to accomplish by avoiding me, Mara?”