Entranced in the Mountains (Greene Mountain Boys #13)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Ryland

“Hey, Sheriff,” Emmanuel says, shaking his head as he walks over. “Mrs. Kensington had her purse stolen too.”

I grit my teeth and let out a low growl as I glare at the redneck leaning on the cotton candy machine. He’s staring back at me while he tucks his chewing tobacco into his cheek and spits on our beautiful town square’s pristine grass.

These guys are starting to piss me off.

It’s been nonstop trouble since these carnies arrived and I want them out of here right fucking now.

But the summer festival is in full swing and almost the whole town is here.

I can’t exactly shut it all down. A lot of work went into setting this up and I’ll be damned if I disappoint all the parents, kids, and couples in love over a few redneck freaks who can’t keep their sticky fingers to themselves.

“Where is she?” I ask Emmanuel. My deputy is staring down a worker at the hot dog stand with his big shoulders and huge arms flexed tight.

The greasy carnie glances over at Emmanuel and smiles, showing off his lack of teeth as he hands a customer a hot dog that I doubt would pass even the most basic food inspection.

“She’s over by the ferris wheel,” he says, pointing to the large wobbly monstrosity that doesn’t look safe in the least. It’s definitely making a worrisome amount of noise. The grinding metal gets louder as I march over.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Molly, the town veterinarian says with a smile as I pass her.

I tip my hat and keep walking.

Our mayor set this whole thing up. Everything is first class—the musicians playing on the rented stage, the corn roast, the food trucks, the petting zoo, the face painting booths, and all of the tables set up by locals selling their crafts and homemade baked goods.

The only rotten thing is these sketchy as fuck carnies he hired to bring in these old squeaky rides and games that are impossible to win.

It’s bad enough they’re ripping everyone off with their rigged games and rides that will dislocate your neck, but stealing and pickpocketing them too? Not on my watch.

“Mrs. Kensington,” I say as I arrive at the ferris wheel. She’s looking very flustered as she scans the crowd, trying to spot her missing purse. “What happened?”

“Oh, it’s horrible, Sheriff,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “I put down my purse while I was recording my grandson on the ferris wheel and then when he got off, my purse was gone.”

The two guys operating the ferris wheel keep glancing over here. I don’t need to be a trained detective to know they’re suspect number one and two.

“Let me see the video you took,” I say as I grit my teeth, trying to stop the thundering impulse to go over there and wring their skinny necks. “Maybe there’s something on it.”

“Good idea,” she says as she starts playing it on her phone. I see her grandson smiling on the ferris wheel and a lot of shaking and blurry parts, but I can’t see anyone approaching her or taking her purse.

“What am I going to do, Sheriff?” she asks, starting to panic. “My medication is in there. My ID. The keys to my house and car.” She gasps. “They have my address and home key!”

I squeeze my hands into fists as I picture those creeps bursting into this nice lady’s house and doing lord knows what. Not going to happen. Not in my town.

“Stay here,” I say with a growl as I stare them down.

The one with the mullet who’s leaning on the railing stands up and looks at me with a challenging gaze as I march over with my shoulders pulled back and my chest puffed out.

The other one with the shredded trucker hat and bloated beer gut puffs on his cigarette as he pushes the red button, slowing the ferris wheel down.

“What can we do for you, Officer?” mullet asks with an amused grin.

I lock eyes with him and clench my jaw. He knows I could pound that cocky grin into mush if I wanted to, but lowlives like him are used to using the law and the goodnatured patience of cops like me to their advantage.

Thing is, my patience has run out. And around here, I am the law.

“Did you see where her purse went to?” I ask, pointing at Mrs. Kensington.

They both shrug and shake their heads. “Nah. We didn’t see nuthin.”

I survey the area, but there’s not much around except for the control panel and a bunch of cigarette butts that they’ve carelessly tossed onto the grass.

There doesn’t seem to be anywhere to hide a purse, but I know these guys are cagey. And I know they’ll be onto the next town soon, ripping the hardworking people there off too.

I hate people who prey on others.

The need to protect runs deep in my bones.

I don’t have a girl to protect and watch out for, so I use all of that pent up energy to protect the nice people of this town against the monsters who would do them harm.

Some people are born to protect the innocent villagers from the barbarians at the gates, and some people (like these sleazy pricks) can’t help but be the barbarians.

If we were born five hundred years ago, I’d be on some battlefield swinging a giant longsword at these yokels’ heads, but unfortunately we’re a little more civilized these days.

My eyes narrow on the control panel. It’s the only place they could possibly hide something as large as a purse.

“Step aside,” I command as I step forward.

I can see the panic in their eyes as they realize where I’m going. Jackpot.

“You can’t touch that,” bloated beer gut says with a hint of dread in his tone. “It’s against the regulations!”

He steps in front of me, smelling of cigarettes and rank body odour. I get in close, staring him down, hoping he does something.

“Move.”

“I can’t let you break the machine,” he says. “Costs a fortune.”

I put my hand on his chest and shove him to the side. He stumbles back and curses as I check out the metal control panel. It takes me five seconds before I find the hidden piece that slides up.

Two purses, three wallets, and a bunch of cellphones inside.

“Hands behind your back,” I say as I grab the handcuffs off my belt.

The skinny guy takes off running, but he’s slow and I’m not. I grab a fistful of his mullet and yank him back, slapping the handcuff around his wrist with a satisfying click. He yelps as I yank his second arm back and cuff his other wrist.

Emmanuel pops out of the crowd and handcuffs the big guy with the trucker hat.

I wave Henry, another officer, over and him and Emmanuel escort them to the truck to bring to the station.

“Book ‘em and come back fast,” I tell them as I look at the other angry carnies watching the scene. “I don’t think these two will be the last ones in handcuffs.”

I grab the stolen gear and hand Mrs. Kensington her purse. She’s ecstatic.

“Thank you!” she says, grabbing my jaw as she lays a wet juicy kiss on my cheek. “Thank you so much, Sheriff. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I say, smiling at her.

“How come you don’t have a nice girl?” she asks.

Oh god. Here we go…

“A handsome man like you,” she goes on, looking at my big arms and broad shoulders. “It’s a shame that you never settled down. I can ask around if you’re looking for someone.”

“I’m not,” I say in a tone that’s more curt than I intended. “Thank you.”

She looks like she’s realizing she put her foot in her mouth. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing the rest of the stolen loot. “Enjoy the festival.”

Another carnie arrives to take over the ferris wheel. He watches me from the corner of his eyes as he grabs overpriced tickets and lets people on board.

“That compartment stays open,” I warn him before I head back into the crowd. I’m looking for my deputy, Cara, and of course, she’s over by the beer tent, flirting with her husband, and my arch nemesis, Graham West.

Graham is the chief of the firehouse here in the Greene Mountains, and he’s always been a royal pain in my ass. Our rivalry started in high school when we battled it out all season long for the starting quarterback position and almost forty years later, it’s still going on strong.

“Stop distracting my deputies, West,” I say as I march over, stolen gear in hand.

Cara snaps to attention now that her boss has arrived. Graham just grins at me, loving that he’s gotten under my skin.

“I can’t help it if she finds me irresistible,” he says, grinning at her.

“Sorry about that, Sheriff,” Cara says. “What’s all this?”

“Stolen loot,” I say as I hand it over to her. “The workers here are taking more than just tickets.”

“Sketchy fuckers,” Graham says, looking around with a heated gaze.

The guy might drive me nuts, but I know he’s always looking out for the people of this town too. If the barbarians were at the gates, I know he’d be standing guard right beside me. We’re similar in more ways than either of us would like to admit.

“Try to find the owners of this stuff,” I say to Cara. “And put whatever is left into your truck so they can pick it up at the station later.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” she says, checking the ID in one of the wallets.

“These people aren’t done,” I say as I look around at all of the sketchy workers. “So, keep your eyes on the carnies and off the fire chief.”

Her cheeks start blushing as she nods and disappears into the crowd to find the owners of the stolen gear.

“I’ll tell my boys to keep a look out too,” Graham says.

I want to tell him to stop distracting my deputy, but that’s just the competitive part of me coming out. I’m a little jealous that he found his soulmate and I… haven’t.

“Fine,” I mutter before walking away.

I head over to the large crowd in front of the stage.

They’re all watching a guy singing and playing guitar.

He’s pretty good, singing a slower version of Bad Moon Rising by CCR.

This is a perfect place for pickpockets.

Everyone is crowded together, watching the show, and they’ll hardly notice any sticky fingers slipping into their pockets and purses.

But I’ll notice.

I stand there for three more songs, scanning the crowd until a young father comes up to me with his four-year-old daughter sitting on his shoulders. “They shortchanged me at the ticket booth,” he complains. “I gave them a fifty but they only gave me change for a twenty, freaking crooks.”

“Let’s go talk to them,” I say, ready to tear the scammer a new one.

I take two steps toward the ticket booth and then stop, stunned.

The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen stops me in my tracks. She grabs my attention. She grabs my soul.

She’s… She’s… perfect.

I stare in awe as she walks toward the stage, pulling a huge instrument case on wheels. She’s with three other girls who are also carrying musical instrument cases, but my girl’s instrument is the largest one.

“Sheriff?” the dad asks, turning around now that I’ve stopped following him. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, but my legs don’t seem to be working. My whole body has shut down.

I turn back to the girl and suck in a breath, heart pounding as I watch her. She has light brown hair, long and soft and falling past her shoulders. My fingers tingle as I imagine sliding my hands into those thick wavy locks and pulling her mouth to mine.

Those soft plump lips are unreal. They’re so pink. So damn tempting.

And those eyes—Christ, those big, luminous eyes. I need to see them up close, gazing at me. I want to get lost in them. I know one look up close and I’d never recover.

My cock stirs, thickening from the gorgeous view. Those curves… Those breasts… I have to have her.

But how old is she? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?

I’m fifty-two. Too damn old for an angel like her. I’d kill to go back in time. To be her age. To have a fucking shot.

I imagine kissing her and I can already taste her sweet delicious tongue. I can already hear her sexy little moans and whimpers as I devour her soft luscious mouth. I let out a desperate groan as my hungry eyes follow her to the stage.

The beautiful sundress she’s wearing is swaying in the breeze, showing off her flawless legs.

The material is hugging her tantalizing curves—round waist, soft hips, sweet thighs.

My fingers ache to grab her, spread her, own her.

She has no idea how badly I want to lift her onto my lap, push that skirt up, and bury myself deep into her hot, tight, dripping wet pussy.

But the thing that’s really got me shook right now… It’s not just lust. It’s need.

Fifty-two years on this planet and I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not once. Not even close. I’ve lived without her my whole damn life, but now that she’s here, I don’t know how I can make it one more second without her in my arms.

“Sheriff,” the dad says. “Are you okay?”

I reach into my pocket, pull out a fifty dollar bill, and shove it into his hand. “Here. Take this instead.”

“But, the change wasn’t this much,” he says, sounding confused. “Are we still going to go talk to the guy?”

“No,” I say, staring at my girl. “It’s over.”

The guy seems confused, but he walks away mumbling something to himself. I know it’s unprofessional, but right now, in this magical moment, I’m incapable of being professional.

I can’t take my eyes off her. How can I walk away, wondering if I’ll ever see her again?

Wondering if we’ll cross paths in the future?

Wondering if I’ll have to spend the rest of my sad, lonely life obsessing over this moment and hating myself that I didn’t march up to that angel and take her as my own.

She’s mine.

That truth slams into me, raw and undeniable.

She’s mine.

I don’t care that I’ve never spoken to her. I don’t care that I’m too damn old. I don’t care that I don’t even know her name. My blood knows. My bones know. My heart knows. And my soul knows.

She belongs to me.

No one else is going to touch her. No one else is going to hear her laugh the way I will, or see her blush the way I will when she’s naked and trembling under me.

I vow it to myself, to the universe, and to her.

We’ll be together. I don’t care what I have to do to make that reality happen.

She struggles as she pulls that big heavy case up the stairs and my chest tightens with something savage. Something primal. A strong need to take care of my girl makes itself known.

I want to take that case from her hands and carry it for her. She should never have to lift a heavy thing again in her life. That’s my job from now on.

I’ll protect her, shield her, fight for her, and kill for her. She’ll never want for anything again. Not while she’s mine.

All I can think about is how fast I can get her alone, how soon I can taste her soft skin, and how quickly I can make her scream and beg for my thick, hard cock.

Everything has changed.

She has no idea yet. But I do.

She’s not just a girl. She’s the girl. My angel. My soulmate. My obsession.

And god help anyone who tries to come between us.