2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Arlo
I didn’t sign up for this shit when I came back here and took over the job as sheriff.
Nowhere in the job description does it say: set up a trap for a prolific torturer and then watch a family, who has already been through too much, fall apart because of it.
I know they’ll be okay because they’re always okay, but that doesn’t make this situation any easier. It certainly doesn’t excuse my epic lack of control by kissing Rina. I pound my head against the cement walls of the hospital, begging it to hurt. I deserve it. Hell, I deserve every cold shoulder that spitfire of a woman gives me. And as I watch her walk past me like I don’t exist, my heart shrivels up a little more inside my chest.
I’m shocked there’s anything left of the stupid organ.
I give myself two minutes to dwell on the fact that I kissed Rina again. The feel of her lips is something I’m not sure I even realized how much I missed.
For years, I’ve gone about my life acting like the events of fifteen years ago never happened. Pushing down every emotion I felt seeing Rina on a regular basis. But seeing her break down was too much. She’s a proud person, rarely showing anyone her emotions, so when I saw her starting to lose control of those carefully closed off feelings, I didn’t think. I just followed. She’s always so strong for everyone else. I wanted to be the one to help her feel comfortable enough to let it all go. To support her as she fell.
And then it started feeling like the old days, back when she was all I could see. Our future so vivid in my mind, I didn’t think anything could tear us apart. Kissing her felt so damn natural. Like more than a decade hasn’t passed since we connected.
But it has, and we’re no longer teenagers in love. No longer dreaming about a future that never happened—because of me.
Fuck, some days are torture. Being so close to her and not being able to do anything is a fate worse than death.
But this is the life I chose. This is what I thought would be best for Rina. Granted, I never planned on coming back here and making a life, but it doesn’t change my choices.
I look at my watch and see my two minutes are long gone. It’s time to do my damn job.
To be clear, I love my job. I love being the sheriff in the small town I was born and raised in. Wrangling all the nosy-ass residents comprises a bulk of tasks, but it was never what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to be a career military man. Become an officer in the Marines and see where it took me, retire after I did my time, and then figure out what was next when the time came.
Too bad that time came too soon and not voluntarily. I arch my back to stretch it out, even the memory causing it to ache.
I shake off the phantom pain and head toward Oakley’s room. I need to touch base with the U.S. Marshal Task Force that’s in charge of the case before I leave, so everyone is on the same page. It may not be my jurisdiction, but it happened in my town, so I’ll be damned if I’m not in the know about what’s going on. After that, I’m going home. Too much happened today, and I need to decompress and process it all.
It's been three days since shit hit the fan and landed two of the best men I know in the hospital.
The only thing that’s happened is the damn media descending on Bluebell Falls, causing me one hell of a headache. The good news is those nosy-ass residents are doing a wonderful job of pissing every single reporter off, so I don’t think they’ll stick around long.
I’m walking back to my office, flipping my phone in my hand and contemplating something dangerous.
I can’t get my mind off of Rina, my Marina, and how fucking good it felt to be in her orbit again. Texting her would be so easy; I could pass it off as checking in on Lennox, even though I just talked to Ledger about him.
Flipping my phone once more, I decide to just go for it. What could it hurt? She decides she hates me and never talks to me again? I’m already living in that hell.
Me:
How are things over there? Any news on Lennox ?
The ellipses show up almost immediately, and I almost run into the door to my small office.
Rina:
Seems like you already know, seeing as you just talked to Ledger.
Busted.
Me:
Okay, you caught me. How are you doing?
The ellipses appear and disappear a couple of times before her message comes through this time.
Rina:
Why are you really texting me?
Me:
Truth?
Rina:
I think we owe each other that, at the very least.
Me:
I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. And I know you still hate me, for good reason. But it just felt so … fucking good.
If it were anyone else, I would never be that honest. But Rina and I were always this way, always blunt and to the point. Except the one time you lied to her. Her reply interrupts my self-loathing.
Rina:
It felt too good.
I sit frozen because, in all honesty, I thought I’d be getting a tongue lashing right now. I’d enjoy every second of it, but I was not expecting this.
Rina:
What would you say to doing something like that again, except a little more orgasm-centric and less kiss-centric?
Me:
Name when and where.
This has certainly taken a turn, but I can’t say I’m sorry. Do I know that this is destined for disaster? Absolutely. But does it even matter when the love of my life is asking for orgasms? Hell fucking no.
Rina:
I’m locked up with a custom order for the next couple of days, but I could be game in a few days. Say, the end of the week?
Me:
I’ll make myself available.
Rina:
Of course you will.
I don’t reply. There’s no need to. It will only lead to a fight. I stretch my legs out in front of me in my office chair and tuck my hands behind my head. Never did I think checking in would lead to this, but damn am I going to take advantage while I can.
“What’s wrong with you?” my part-time receptionist, Audrey, asks. She’s really more of a “do everything” person, including handling emergency calls while she’s on shift, but we haven’t come up with a better title for her.
“What?” I sit up.
“You’re smiling. You never smile.”
“I smile,” I tell her in disbelief.
“You absolutely do not smile. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you smile in the five years I’ve worked here.”
I grumble under my breath because she’s probably right. I’m not known for my approachability. Things like that don’t matter in the small town you grew up in, though. Everyone knows you and is in your business, regardless of having a Fuck Off sign on my forehead.
“Don’t you have work to do or something? I’m sure Mabel needs something, especially with these damn news vans everywhere,” I deflect.
“Sure do, Boss Man. Just one more thing—whatever made you smile like that, you should do more of.” Then she turns around and heads to her small desk outside of my office.
Easy, Audrey . Just keep Rina close. But I know it’ll never be more than sex for her. And my heart definitely won’t end up crushed by the end of this or anything.
Rina:
I really wish I didn’t have this fucking order to make.
Me:
Why is that? Feeling needy?
Jesus, if she wasn’t going in that direction, I just proved I’m a horny asshole with one thing on my mind. It wouldn’t necessarily be wrong, but damn, a little decorum would be nice.
Rina:
So. Fucking. Horny.
Rina:
To be clear: The only reason this is happening is because I need the distraction. It’s just sex.
I ignore her second message because, honestly, my shriveled-up heart hurts a little hearing that. Even if I knew the score from the get-go. But I’m down for just sex at this point. Anything that involves Rina is something I’m on board with.
Me:
And there’s no chance we can get together before the end of the week?
Rina:
Sadly, no. I really need to finish this.
Me:
Where are you right now?
Rina:
In my workshop, taking a break to tell you how horny I am.
Me:
I could always come down there and bend you over your worktable.
Rina:
You could, I suppose. But that would just prolong getting this done.
Me:
I would slide down those leggings you always wear. What color are your panties today? Still fond of lace?
Rina:
Jesus fuck… Pink lace today…
I adjust myself under my desk, distantly wondering if this is the right move, but it feels far too late to stop.
Me:
I’d slide that pink lace to the side, keeping them on to frame that fucking perfect ass of yours, before sliding my tongue where you really want it.
Rina:
Then what?
I smirk. I’ve got her right on the edge. And I’d bet all the money in my back account that she has her hand down her pants right now.
Me:
I’d tease the fuck out of you. Not letting you come yet. That would be too easy.
Me:
Is your hand down your pants?
Rina:
Fuck you, you know it is.
Me:
Rub that clit for me, Rina. Get worked up for me.
Rina:
You’re so cocky. You talk a big game, Arlo, but how do I know you can actually do all this in real life?
Me:
I seem to remember knowing exactly how to get you off every single time, Marina.
Rina:
Don’t fucking call me that, or I’ll call off this arrangement before it starts.
I shift my hand to my hard cock, squeezing in an attempt to stave off my impending orgasm just from her words. She may hate me, but she still knows what I can do to her body.
Me:
But then you wouldn’t feel my cock inside of you again. Wouldn’t feel the stretch as you take all of me while I pinch your clit and make you come all over me. Wouldn’t have the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had.
Rina:
Cocky asshole…
Me:
You just had a good orgasm, though. Don’t even deny it.
It may have been fifteen years, but I know her. I know if she was already horny when she started texting me, it wouldn’t take long to get her off.
Rina:
I’ll concede to good… The real thing would have been much better. Don’t get a big head about it or anything.
Me:
Which head?
I burst out laughing at my stupid joke, which has Audrey peeking her head in, looking at me in utter confusion. I wave her off and turn back to my conversation with Rina. It’s a good thing my desk covers my very obvious boner.
Rina:
Well, thanks for the orgasm. It’s been … something. I’ll see you on Friday… Maybe.
Me:
Oh, you’ll be seeing me, Marina.
Rina:
Fuck off, Arlo.
I just imagine her fake, sugar-sweet voice saying it. I thump my head against my desk, trying to calm my raging boner. It’s not like I have a ton to do today, but I can’t even begin to work in this state.
Thinking about the last ten minutes, I’m not entirely sure what the fuck just happened, but it was hotter than anything I’ve done in the last fifteen years. I’m pretty sure I’ll do anything this woman asks of me, even if sexting and secret hook-ups are all I get.
Yeah, I’m definitely fucked.