Turner (White Wolf Ridge 1)

“How are you holding up?” I ask Maria, sliding up beside her with my hand around her waist.

“I’m doing very well. It’s hectic, but I’m finding it entertaining.”

“Okay. Well, do you think you could work for the resort from now on?”

“What about Daphne?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean as my assistant. I don’t want you working that hard.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, baby. What do you want to do?”

“Do I have to decide now? Isn’t it going to be several weeks before Daphne returns?”

“You have plenty of time to decide. Have you called your parents yet?”

“I haven’t.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“They’re going to ask a thousand questions, and I’m not sure that I have all the right answers.”

“I suppose you do have a point. It’s not like your family would understand, but they don’t need to know that we’ve only just met. You can tell them that we’ve been dating for months and that we’re not rushing as fast as they believe.”

“That could work. What about the…”

“Excuse me, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but the chief of police is here. He wants a word with you.”

“Sure. I’ll be down there in a few minutes.”

“The chief of police?”

“Yes. He’s probably just checking on the arrivals. It’s extremely busy, and his men have to double down on the patrols.”

“Okay. I understand. I’ll go with you. I want to meet the chief you mentioned before.”

We make our way down to the entrance of the main hotel where there sits a pudgy man in a police uniform with a bulky coat, useless when you have to apprehend a perp on the run. I already get a sense that he doesn’t care about his job.

"So who do we have here?" he questions with a little more interest than acceptable. I hold back my revulsion, making sure to keep my thoughts popping out every few minutes so Turner doesn't know that I'm practicing blocking him out.

"She's not for you to be staring at, Chief Anderson. Maria, the chief of police in White Wolf Ridge. Chief, my fiancée, Maria."

"Fiancée? That's quick. No one knew you were dating. That seems to happen a lot around here. Everyone gets together without much fanfare." There’s too much suspicion in his question that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

"And your point?"

"Nothing. I’m simply curious."

I don't like his suspicions.

Me either. That’s another reason why I want to get rid of him.

“So what can we help you with, Chief?” And he appears lazy.

“You know. I just came to warn you to keep us abreast of any incidents. I know the mayor’s your father, but there’s still law and order around here. I learned about the fight you covered up for your brother.”

“A little rough-housing between young men, and neither of them were really hurt. It’s nothing to press charges for.”

“It’s still an incident.”

“So some paperwork for you to fill out for nothing.” What a prick!

"Thank you for your reprimand, Chief. We have to keep everything in order before chaos ensues, but if there is an issue with the guests or staff, we'll contact the station. Then you can send someone prepared to make an arrest."

"I'll be quick to be here." Quick? My ass.

What a very nice ass. "Very well. Filling in as his temporary assistant, I have to keep Mr. Turner on track. Excuse us."

Always thinking about my body. What am I going to do with you?

Submit to my desires.

I barely let the men shake hands and then I hook my arm in the crook of Turner's and spin us around, walking without another word to Anderson.

"Wow. That was good,” I grunt. My mate’s a tough woman.

"I've dealt with many overinflated egos before. Some men put on a badge just to make up for their lack of manliness. It just rolls off him."

"You're talented, although I'd love to meet all the egos that insulted you."

"I don't think you want to, or you'd have a trail of dead bodies."

“I’d do anything for you, Maria.”

“I know, and that’s enough for now.” Her cell rings in her pocket, so she checks who’s calling but sends it to voicemail. I don’t like that shit. I trust her, but if she’s having a problem with someone, I want to be the one to deal with it.

“Who was that?”

“My dad,” she sighs.

“Why didn’t you answer it?” I already know the answer to that and say it. “Are you afraid of telling them the semi-truth?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I will do it after we call it a day at work. As soon as I figure out what to tell them.”

“I can handle it, but I know you want to do it, and I’m going to hold you to it.”

“Shit,” I grumble. Now it’s my phone going off. I pull it out and see that there’s a problem at the front desk. “Okay. Someone wants to speak to the manager.”