Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(48)

“I know, right?” She bounced a little on her toes and it took everything he had to keep his gaze on her face. “And since I learned my lesson last time, I am here to get the appropriate paperwork completed. Apparently I have to get someone here to sign off on it before the city will consider granting me the permit.”

She was quiet, waiting for him to read. He picked it up again, loving how her eyes followed his every move, proving that she was as impatient as a kid on Christmas morning.

When she was one flip of the permit from reading the thing to him herself, he gave it his full attention. The first part of the permit was doable, but when he got to her desired location he knew it was a no-go. “You want to close down Main Street?”

“Where else would I have a walk-a-thon?” He could think of a lot of other places that didn’t include closing down the main thoroughfare in town. “It’s the same few blocks as the farmers’ market.”

“Closing a street off requires traffic and crowd control. The farmers’ market has to request enough officers to handle that kind of event.”

“Okay,” Shay said, undeterred. “Is there a request form I can fill out then?”

He wished it were that simple. “Yes, but the officers have to be off duty and they have to be paid the union minimum.” Jonah quoted her what that was and he could tell by her expression that the woman at the permit department had done a piss-poor job of explaining to Shay what she was up against. “And the county doesn’t have the funds to pay for this kind of event. It has to be covered by the event host.”

“So I’d have to come up with the money?”

“Yes,” he said and could tell Shay didn’t have an extra fifteen hundred dollars in her budget. “But even then, I don’t think I could find enough guys on this short notice willing to work it. With Bark in the Park the weekend after, and the department cutbacks leaving us short staffed, my men are overworked. Which means I can’t sign this form.”

“I can’t make St. Paws work without it, Jonah. I need this permit.”

“And I want to give it to you.” He really did. Shay had done everything right this time, followed the rules, put her heart into turning a bad situation into something amazing, and she was still getting turned away. That pissed him off. But his hands were tied. “I can’t force guys to work off hours, though.”

“I get that,” she said, accepting the big turd he’d just handed her with a graceful resignation that could only come from a lifetime of nos and letdowns.

Jonah didn’t want to be one more letdown in her life. He wanted to be that guy who showed her just how easy she was to say yes to. He picked up the permit and folded it, tucking it in his shirt pocket. “I can’t sign this until I have a verbal commitment from the guys, but let me see what I can do.”

“I appreciate it,” she said, and then with a smile that was shy and uncertain and unlike any smile she’d ever sent his way, she leaned in. “As for that secret I owe you, I’ve never had a lemon-iced fig cake, but it sounds like something I would love to try.”

With a look that said she was talking about more than icing a cake, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door, her hips swishing like she knew he was watching. And he was. He watched as the cute curve of her ass walked out of the station. He groaned with every step she took because the bottom of that dress teased at her thighs, just like he knew it would, showing off those amazing legs of hers.

When her car pulled out of the lot, he fished out his phone and dialed Adam. “’Sup.”

“What’s the password for that Facebook account you set up for me?”

“BarneyFife82,” he said. “Why?”

“I need to make somebody my friend.” Isn’t that what he’d told Clovis to do?

“Jesus, it’s called friending someone.”

He didn’t care what it was called. He was going to do it.

With extra icing.





Two days later, Shay looked out the window of Paws and Claws at the excited mass of women waiting to come in and wondered if she should call the cops.

They weren’t women—they were more like ladies. Senior ladies. Some of them so old they predated Christ. And they all wanted a piece of this week’s Cutie with Booty.

“I still think we should call for backup,” Shay said, now understanding why Jonah had placed so much emphasis on crowd control. One wrong move, like say, forgetting to pack all the limited-edition Warren trading cards she’d advertised, and she’d have a riot on her hands.

“I’m all the backup you need,” Warren said smoothly, and Shay rolled her eyes.

Sure, the deputy was doing her a favor. And sure, he was so good looking he was hard not to stare at, but Shay knew his type. Had dated his type. In fact, her life was full of his type. Witty, charming, always around, ready to lend a hand—until she really needed one.

“I don’t think you stand a chance,” she said and Warren laughed, sure to flash his perfectly white teeth her way.

“This isn’t Kevlar under here,” he said, puffing out his chest and running his palms over his pecs to prove it. “This is hard work. Want to feel?”

Shay did not want to feel, she wanted to call Jonah. There were so many large handbags and walkers that could easily be concealing weapons—or be used as weapons—she knew that this event was one line-cutter away from getting out of hand.