Thirty-One and a Half Regrets
Page 60

“I’m about to start dinner, nothing fancy, just spaghetti. But I’ll bring some out to you when it’s ready.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to be any trouble, ma’am.”
“I’m no ma’am. I can’t be more than a year or two older than you. Call me Rose. How long have you worked for the sheriff?”
He shrugged, inhaling the other cookie. “A few years.”
“Did you always want to be a policeman?”
“Nah, I got into some trouble when I was a kid. I decided to use the energy for something positive and got my associate’s degree in criminal justice.”
“Do you like working for the sheriff? Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Not too much. No offense, Rose, but this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in ages. Even the original Daniel Crocker bust was within Henryetta city limits, and the state police took over. If it had been under the HPD’s control, we still wouldn’t have been involved. There’s no love lost between our departments.”
“That’s not a surprise.” I looked up into the darkening sky, worried that Mason wasn’t back yet. “You said this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in ages. I don’t see how sitting outside could be very exciting. Aren’t you bored?”
“A lot of police work is sitting around and waiting. And I specifically requested to be on this case.”
“Really? Why?” I was genuinely baffled. I couldn’t think of anything that sounded less appealing than sitting on someone’s porch in the cold, looking for trouble.
He shrugged. “So you own this farm?” the deputy asked after a moment of silence.
“Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t know until a few months ago. This is the first time I’ve been here.”
“Wow. It’s pretty awesome.”
“It’s really peaceful, isn’t it?”
He took a sip of his coffee. “It doesn’t scare you to be out here?”
“You mean other than worrying about Daniel Crocker?”
“Yeah.”
“No more so than being in my own house in Henryetta. I’ve lost track of how many times it’s been broken into. That tends to make you feel less safe. But when my little dog Muffy is with me, she’s a pretty good guard dog.”
Hearing her name, Muffy sat up and looked at me.
My head tingled, announcing a vision. The porch disappeared and I was in the woods in the daylight.
“It’s okay, girl,” I said, pushing my way through thick brush to find a wet and muddy Muffy huddled on the ground and shivering. I gently picked her up and cradled her to my chest. “Don’t you worry. We’ll find your mommy.”
Suddenly, I was back on the porch staring into Deputy Miller’s face. “You’re gonna find my dog.”
“What?”
Muffy jumped up and propped her front paws on his legs.
I stood, rattled by the vision. What did it mean? “I’ve got to go cook dinner.” I headed for the door and held it open. “Coming, girl?”
Muffy stayed by Deputy Miller, who gave me an apologetic look.
“She can stay out here with me if she wants,” the deputy said. “It would be good to have the company. I’ll bring her inside if she gets restless.”
I hesitated. After my vision, I was worried she’d run off, but I’d meant it when I told Mason she had a mind of her own. “Thanks.” I turned my attention to her. “You be a good girl and don’t run off.”
I went inside and started boiling the water for dinner. The sun had set and Mason still wasn’t back. I was getting really worried.
Finally, the back door swung open and Mason came through it, his cheeks pink, his hair windblown.
Relieved, I ran over to him and threw my arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his mouth. Caught unaware, his arms encircled my waist and his lips pressed against mine, his passion taking over.
Fire ignited inside me and I pressed my body against his. His arms pulled me closer, but it wasn’t close enough. Still kissing him, my fingers found the zipper of his jacket and pushed it open.
One of his hands moved to my face, tilting my head back so his mouth had full access to mine. Then he stopped abruptly, his head lifting.
Panting, it took me a second to figure out why he had stopped. The pasta was boiling over.
Mason closed his eyes and took a step back, seemingly trying to recover as I moved to the stove and turned the heat down, stirring the pot. The spaghetti was done, so I found the colander and drained it.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I put the pot back onto one of the cold burners.
He came up behind me and pressed his stomach to my back, slowly sliding his hand over my waist and down to my lower abdomen. He mouth lowered to my neck, his lips skimming up to my ear. “If you greet me like that every time I come home, I’ll be sure to leave a lot.”
Closing my eyes, I leaned back into him. “You were gone a long time and I was worried. I was about to try you on my phone.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good.” His mouth concentrated on my ear lobe, lightly nibbling. “My cell service cut out a hundred feet past the tree line.”
“Don’t scare me like that again.” I tried to sound gruff, but I was about to moan. While his mouth on my ear was driving me crazy, his hand glided up my abdomen and underneath my breast.
He stopped his exploration of my body, but he held me close before sighing and letting me go. “You’re right. I was gone longer than intended. I’m sorry.”