Chapter 5 #2
Smoothing one hand down my gray pencil skirt, I attempt to step into the office past the sheriff without brushing up against him. Forest floor and dark chocolate slip up my nose.
Down girl.
Behave.
“Get back to work,” he shouts to his officers, then slams the door behind me.
“This is an interview, not a production,” he snaps.
“Who peed in your oatmeal this morning?” I mutter under my breath.
“Who peed in my oatmeal?” He repeats angrily.
The man looks like a fire-breathing dragon. If I say one more thing to get under his skin, fire might leave his flaring nostrils.
“I brought your favorite coffee. A vanilla latte with no sugar. But extra whipped cream.” I hold it out to him.
He takes it from my hand, and our fingers touch. A spark of electricity zings through my body.
The sheriff takes a sip. “Thank you,” he mutters.
“Who told you how I like my coffee?”
“Fitch.”
“Ms. Walker, are you trying to bribe me for this position?”
My brows pinch together. “No, I wanted to brighten your day.”
He stands there for a moment longer.
“Have a seat.”
While sipping his latte, he looks over my application.
“I brought my resume, too.” I retrieve it from a folder inside my oversized purse.
He takes it from me. While he glances at it, I take the time to retrieve my coffee from the to-go carrier and sip the piping-hot deliciousness. Nothing like a brown sugar espresso.
In order to get this job, I need to play nice. Once I’m in, the gloves will come off.
“Can you really type forty-five words a minute?” he asks.
“Yes. I took a typewriting class online. And I practice my skill every six months to make sure I still have it. My father runs a busy law office. I had to move fast to ensure the attorneys had their briefs and pleadings for court. There were times I didn’t take lunch.”
“I know our office is small, but it’s busy. Sounds like you might be able to keep up with the workflow.”
“I assure you I can.”
He leans back in his chair. “I’m aware you’re here on a temporary basis. Just how long do you plan to remain in my town?”
“For a month at least.”
He leans forward. “Because you’re looking for the people who stole from you, right?”
He’s trying to bait me.
I purse my plump lips together. “I was invaluable to my dad’s firm,” I say, avoiding his question. “I trained the secretary who took my place. Let me help.”
He considers my words and sinks back into his oversized chair. My gaze moves over his bearded jaw that looks thicker than it did yesterday. How can a man grow that much beard hair overnight?
His eyes fall back on my information sprawled in front of him. “You didn’t check if you were a beta or an omega. Why?”
“Just know I’m either one,” I chuckle awkwardly.
He’s silent for a moment, then tells me about my daily duties.
A smile lifts my cheeks as he says, “You’ll report to work Monday through Friday, eight a.m. to four p.m. Sometimes five. Our biggest festival of the summer is here in two weeks. I expect all hands on deck.”
“Sounds good to me.” I grin.
My eyes roam over his striking face once more: the defined jawline, the thick brown beard, those soft, tempting lips. I catch myself wondering what they’d taste like.
Sasha, stop that.
His finely shaped brown eyebrows, perpetually furrowed. His warm, golden tan skin. And his medium-length hair, which I imagine tugging at while he licks my slick.
Hopefully, he and I are done here.
Sheriff Drake glances through the glass window. Not sure what or who he’s looking for. “Saunders,” he barks out.
I hear the door open behind me seconds later.
“Yes, Sheriff?”
“Walker is our new secretary.”
Her brown eyes light up. “Yes," she mutters under her breath. Elation is clear in her tone.
Sheriff Drake continues giving orders.
“Walker, go with Saunders. She’ll get you set up at your desk. You’ll only work until one today. I want you well-rested for a full day of work tomorrow.”
I rise from my seat. “Great,” I say, grabbing my coffee before turning to introduce myself to Saunders.
Deputy Cassandra Saunders has a natural beauty, even without makeup. A hint of lip gloss shines on her lips. Her brown hair is neatly pulled back into a tight bun, and she stands a few inches taller than I do.
“Oh, that reminds me, Sheriff Evan Durham might call you,” I tell him.
His brows pinch together, rage taking over his handsome features. “For what?” he growls.
“I’m moving into his camper.”
“With him?” he questions. There’s a bitter edge to his voice.
“Oh no. He’s going out of town for a while. I’m renting his camper. He just wants to verify my employment.”
That seems to piss him right off. “Oh, so you just knew you were getting the job.”
“Hey, big guy, I know we aren’t besties, but I’m going to need you to dial down your disdain for me. I’m going to give an olive branch. How about I buy you lunch.”
“Get out of my office,” he breathes.
I flash a smile. “I’ll just ask Fitch what you like to eat.”
The pencil he’s holding snaps in two pieces.
Does he not like Fitch?
He rises from the desk and walks towards me. I crane my neck, holding his gaze as I walk backwards.
“Walker, get out,” he orders.
Asshole used his alpha bark.
“Alpha Gavin, call me Sasha.”
Gold rings form around his pupils. “We’re not on a first-name basis.”
Then the door slams in my face.
“If we weren’t in need of a secretary, pretty sure he’d follow you to the city limits and tell you never to return,” Saunders admits.
His blinds close. “Fuck,” he roars in a guttural tone. His deep voice is so loud I feel it all over my body.
The sheriff. My mate. Is a wolf shifter.