Chapter 4
Santiago was a block away from his great-aunt’s bed and breakfast when he saw Lauren Green walking down the street in the opposite direction.
He parked his cruiser in front of the large white two-story house as she turned the corner, moving with such a fierce sensuality that he wouldn’t be surprised to see flames spark where her shoes met concrete.
Ms. Audrey exited the bed and breakfast and waved at him as she walked down the stairs. He got out of his cruiser and frowned down the street.
“Morning Sheriff, what brings you around here so early?” Her smile disappeared as she tracked his gaze.
“Surely you don’t mean to harass that young woman any more than you already have?”
“Where the hell is she going in pajamas? You and Tia Lina just let her leave the house any kind of way?”
“All my children are grown with families of their own. That young woman’s sleepwear, including slippers, cost more than what you or I make with one paycheck, but if you have a hankering to go after her and force her to change, I won’t stop you. She’s headed to The Mystical Market.”
“You think I won’t?” Santiago said calmly, but inside he felt himself bristling. It was confounding how the hellion had garnered such dedication from his staff, who were generally insightful people, when all he wanted to do was grab hold of Lauren and—
“I think you’d be a fool to try!” Ms. Audrey called to him as she strolled past and got in her car. “See you at the station.”
He continued to glare at the street corner where Ms. Green had turned.
“Hola Santiago,” his great-aunt greeted him from the front door. “I’ve got extra bacon in the kitchen if you want some.”
Though he’d already eaten, his stomach growled. He loved bacon.
“Lo siento, Tia Carolina, got a nuisance situation I need to take care of. I’ll be by for the bacon later if you don’t mind holding it for me.”
“Well, there’ll be plenty.” He heard her mutter before going back into the house.
He didn’t know how or why, but he knew Ms. Green was responsible for Tia Lina’s mood.
The sooner he got that woman up out of here, the sooner life in Shrouded Lake would settle into its generally predictable flow.
“So let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly,” Lauren said, bent over the counter, elbows perched on the checkout stand.
“Y’all have been in business for nearly three years, have all this fabulous shit, fresh produce, organic non-GMO food, herbal remedies and other healing options, a Zen environment, a space for learning and community events, and you’re thinking about closing your doors? What the everlasting fuck, Saige?”
Saige, the co-owner of The Mystical Market, flinched.
Lauren wasn’t sure if it was her language or her passion; she didn’t give a damn.
What she did want to know was... Lauren took a breath and smiled as if smiling was painful.
She reminded herself she was just passing through, and she was no longer involving herself in other people’s business, she was no longer trying to mitigate or save anyone from their choices. Plus, she’d be moving on in a few days.
“It wasn’t a part of our business plan, trust me Ms. Lauren—”
“Just Lauren.”
“When we leased the building, we believed in the revitalization initiative just like a lot of business owners in the downtown area. Me and my wife thought we could do it. Me with my ideas, her with her history in the community. Our online business is sustaining us but there’re limits because we don’t have the womanpower to manage the store and fill mail orders.
Our business was built with community at its heart, but the heart of this community continues to wither away. ”
Lauren bagged her own groceries.
“This place would stay busy if it were in my old town.”
“Where’s that?”
Lauren waved her hand, dismissing the question.
“Doesn’t matter. That’s history and I’m all about the here and now.”
“Oh, wait here a moment Ms. Lauren,” Saige said rushing off.
“Just Lauren,” she muttered to absolutely no one because that’s exactly who else was in here. And that truly was a tragedy.
The front door chimed and glory hallelujah, Saige had another customer.
“This what folks in California do? Walk around in their bed clothes this far from their beds?”
Resting her hip against the checkout counter, she folded her arms and stared down the man who seemed to be stalking her.
“For the life of me I can’t understand why either would be your business, Sheriff.”
He moved toward her with an almost primal determination. She didn’t doubt the man’s lethality, just his morals.
“You just said it, so you understand well enough. I’m the sheriff, so anyone or anything that causes me to question the safety and well-being of others is absolutely my business.”
“Except drunk drivers. No, drunk drivers seem to have free rein...or is it just the ones who’ve bought and paid for your cooperation.”
Bull’s-eye.
The way his eyes narrowed, face flushed, muscles flexed; the way he got in her face and stared her down, anger hardening every angle of his face, showed her words landed exactly how she wanted them.
“Everything all right, Sheriff Stillwater,” Saige called out, but neither Lauren nor the sheriff took a step out of their bubble of animosity.
“Everything’s fine, Saige,” Lauren answered before the idiot cop.
“I was just advising Sheriff P. Coltrane that it’s in his best interest to mind the business that God gave him since he so spectacularly fails to mind the business he’s paid to mind.”
“Woman you’re two seconds from—”
“From what, you throwing me over your shoulder and smacking my ass like some neanderthal, before throwing me in a jail cell because I reminded you of your actual duty.”
He flushed again, took a deep breath, and turned toward the windows facing the mountain before taking a step back.
“Okay, maybe I should’ve handled that situation a little more delicately,” he admitted.
“Maybe you were too busy tiptoeing around that Veronica bitch’s crocodile tears.”
“Ms. Lauren!” Saige rushed over. “I made this for you, special.” She handed Lauren a satchel of... She brought it to her nose and sniffed.
“Herbs,” Saige assured. “And a few crystals. When you return to review the business plan, I’ll tell you what they’re for and how to use them. The intrigue is to make sure you come back,” Saige smiled.
Lauren returned the smile and ignored the sheriff as she placed the satchel in her oversized purse and picked up her grocery bag. She walked to the front door and from the mirror chime hanging at the entry, she could see the sheriff watching the jiggle of her ass as she walked away.
She really should’ve put some panties on before leaving the house, but really, who slept in panties?
“Don’t worry Saige,” she said, emboldened by the interest the sheriff gave.
She’d worked hard with the weights in her old gym to keep her glutes high and firm at her big age.
Derrick hadn’t ever acknowledged her attempt to be healthier.
Hell, when was the last time they’d even had sex?
It had to have been well before she’d gone to the East Coast conference.
She’d met up with her best friend Reese while she was there, and they’d discussed the absence of their sex lives for the last few months.
He hadn’t desired her for all that time?
Why couldn’t he just tell her? Why had he asked her to marry him, why had he pushed her into moving in with him, buying a house together… ?
“You okay there, Batgirl?” the sheriff called out. She turned her body all the way around to gaze at him.
“Lauren,” Saige said, trying to divert her attention from the fire growing inside her but her attention wouldn’t be diverted.
“Is that your roundabout way of calling me crazy?” Lauren asked the sheriff, took a step forward as she wrapped the grocery bag handles around her hand, tightening the slack. She advanced on him slowly.
His hand reached toward his hip, and she practically vibrated with rage.
“I wish you would,” she growled out.
He smiled.
“Your wish is my command.”
He was on her in a blink. The world spun and she felt both her bags fall to the ground.
She screamed in rage when he smacked her on her ass yet again, this time his hand lingered, burning into her flesh, branding it, igniting something, causing her sex to throb.
It had to be the fire of vengeance burning through her body. But it felt like something else.
This time she refused to make a spectacle of herself. Instead, she lay over his shoulder and propped herself up on her elbows, digging them spitefully into his back and cupped her face between her hands.
“Can you have my groceries delivered to Ms. Lina’s bed and breakfast?” she asked Saige.
“Uh, sure. I’ll just…I’ll just get your purse and put it in the car with you.” She followed them to the police car. “I’ll see you when you get out,” Saige called and waved as the car pulled away.
His last rational thought while watching that woman’s ass bounce in hypnotizing rhythm was…
them dukes, them dukes. Then she was in his face, challenging him.
Again. Like it was his fault her bouncy ass painted decadent images in his mind—him grabbing handfuls of each round sphere… burying his face in—
I wish you would.
Her chaotic anger shoved the rebellious little shit he’d once been out of his walled-in and nearly impenetrable shell.
Her mouth had the power to breach decades of military control.
His only defense was to flip the switch, seal that destructive adolescent energy in before it burned down his world all over again.
Now back in the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively, he drove toward the station, sunglasses dimming his overly stimulated senses. He was lulled by the familiar rhythms of the road.