Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(59)

“You heard him, Deputy,” Clovis said, gesturing for him to open the pad of paper in his hand, looking more titillated than terrified. “He was peeping. On me. Clovis Owens. Owner of the Boulder Holder, St. Helena’s supplier of naughty and niceties. Write that down. O-W-E-N-S.”

Jonah diligently opened his pad, jotted a few notes, then snapped it shut. “Ms. Owens, would you like to press charges?”

Her hand flew to her chest, as though horrified by the idea. “Of course not, Jonah Baudouin, and shame on you for saying such a thing.” She checked the doorway to make sure no one was coming and leaned in, “But you make sure that it gets filed in this week’s Sentinel police beat. I want to frame it for the shop.”

And with that, Jonah gave up any pretense of trying to make sense of this mess and shoved his pad in his pocket. “I’ll see what I can do.” Jonah eyed the two. “No more peeping and no more ridiculous reports, understood?”

Neither answered. They were too busy glaring at each other. Even worse, Jonah thought, using all of his carefully honed control to resist arresting them both for being a pain in his ass, Giles’s little stunt had landed Warren, the responding deputy, another gold star in the town’s eyes. They were probably going to commission a statue in his honor.

Done, done, and so done, Jonah left the room, punched the button on the elevator, and rode it to the bottom, frustrated beyond belief.

He was relieved Giles was okay, relieved that no one had been seriously injured, yet he couldn’t get past his decision to shut off his phone. He was off duty, had done nothing wrong, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to let go of the possibility of what could have happened, especially when he turned his phone back on and it blew up with missed calls, texts from Adam, and even a message from Sheriff Bryant wanting to make sure he knew his uncle was missing.

If he won this election, his responsibility to the town and the people in it would increase tenfold. He knew that. Was ready for it even. What he wasn’t ready for was last night.

And Shay.

“Shit.” He looked at his watch. It was nearly noon and he hadn’t called Shay to explain why she’d woken up next to a note instead of him. When he’d gone back to grab his things, she’d fallen back asleep, looking adorable, well-loved, and just his luck, obedient with her hands above her head.

Rather than wake her, which would have led to testing just how obedient she could be, he’d settled for leaving a hastily scribbled note.

Work calls. Last night was amazing . . . J

P.S. The wishing couch works.

On a bag of dog food.

Okay, so at the time he’d been in a hurry and a little out of his mind with worry and guilt. Then his day had gone from bad to shit real fast, and now the window to call and explain had come and gone. And she probably thought he was a complete ass.

Not all that surprising. Nearly every woman Jonah had attempted a relationship with had thought the same in the end. “Emotionally unavailable,” his last girlfriend had called him, when in reality he hadn’t been physically available enough to even get to the emotional part.

Being on call 24/7 didn’t rank up there in the top ten things women looked for in a man. The whole man-in-uniform fantasy got old real quick once they learned what the uniform really meant, then they walked.

He wasn’t ready for Shay to walk, he thought as he crossed the empty parking lot toward his cruiser. Which meant he needed to drive to town and explain.

“Hey.” The sexy voice had Jonah stopping short. Shay sat on the hood of his car in cutoffs and a tank top that hugged her curves. Her bare feet were on his bumper, and she had a bag in her lap and a sexy smile on her lips that had him remembering every detail of his hands on her silky skin as she cried out his name.

Maybe the universe was throwing him a bone, giving him a chance to get that more they’d talked about.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Then again, maybe not.

Her smile died at his question and he could see a potent mixture of concern and regret forming on her face. The concern did a number on his chest, but the regret was like a nine millimeter straight to the gut.

“Waiting for you. I heard about Giles and came right over.”

Right. Giles. “He’s better. A little dehydrated, a major pain in my ass, and quite possibly looking at adding Peeping Tom to his dating résumé, but he’s fine.”

“Actually, I came over to check on you,” she said, never once looking away, but the uncertainty in her eyes did him in.

“Me?” His boots clicked on the pavement as he walked toward her, not stopping until he was in her space. “It was just a search and rescue.” One that happened before he’d even gotten off her couch. He was as far from the action as an officer could get. “Why would you worry about me?”

“I figured you heard about Giles and were so busy taking care of everyone else you’d need someone to take care of you.” Shay held up the bag, shaking it. The grease stain at the bottom told him there was food in there. Greasy, sent-from-heaven food. “Hungry, Sheriff?”

She shook the bag again.

“Starved.” The last thing he’d had to eat was icing, and even though he could go for another helping of last night, he was pretty sure that wasn’t what she was offering. Taking the bag, he opened it and smiled. “It’s a sandwich.”