In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4) (37 page)

Later,
returning from lunch, she’d seen a black Suburban pull up and
double park behind the cars filling the diagonal slots in front of
the Sheriff’s office. She honestly hadn’t realized it was
Hogan driving until she’d walked over to ask the driver to park
in the lot across from the courthouse.

His
blue eyes had gleamed with amusement. And with something else.
Something that made her breath catch. Suddenly, the heat of the July
day intensified. She knew what Hogan was thinking. She could read it
in his gaze as clearly as she could feel it in the pulse points of
her body. And that really scared her. If only he hadn’t looked
at her that way. If the corner of his mouth hadn’t lifted in
that little smile.

All
it had taken to send panic chasing after the shiver of sexual
awareness was his softly spoken question. “Don’t you
think we have something to talk about, Susy?”

The
timbre of his voice and the heat in his gaze were like flame to dry
tinder. Terrified at her body’s response to everything about
him, Susannah had backed away. She shook her head. “Don’t
call me Susy.” She knew her quavering voice must have matched
her “deer in the headlights” expression.

“No
heart to heart talk today? No problem. I’ll be here a few
weeks. We’ve got time.”

Susannah
had felt all the blood drain from her face. She’d felt hot and
cold all in the same moment. She could find no words to counter what
she viewed as a threat. To be honest, there was a traitorous part of
her that wished she could leap into his arms. Into his bed. But that
would be disastrous.

All
she’d had to do was make a joke about that night. Pretend that
she was sophisticated. Unfortunately, she’d lost the ability to
put together a coherent sentence, much less a smart, hip response to
defuse the situation. So she’d taken refuge from his searching
gaze and husky voice by whipping out her ticket book from her khaki
shirt pocket. Gruffly she’d explained he was illegally parked.
She’d only intended to write a warning. But Hogan had flirted.
He’d winked and softly said, “Are you sure you don’t
want to go someplace private and talk about this, Deputy? Maybe we
can work something out?”

That
had just increased her panic. In a flash she saw a future she
dreaded. He’d finish his job at Murphy’s Cove and shake
the dust of this small town. If she yielded to her emotions, he’d
leave her with nothing but regret. She’d ripped the ticket out
and handed it to him. He’d laughed.

The
sound was the match to her fuse. She seared him with a glance and
walked around the Suburban, making a pretense of inspecting the
lights on the rear of the Burb just to buy her panicked brain more
time. In her most official voice, she said, “Your right rear
tail light is cracked.”

“Well,
gee whiz, Officer,” he said in a parody of a Texas drawl. “You
sure as shootin’ better write that up. Can’t let a
lawless desperado like me get away with anything.”

His
mocking voice spurred her on. Retribution was a bitch with a ticket
book in hand. Ripping the second ticket from the book, she handed it
to him with a flourish. “As you wish.”

“You
must not have been in uniform longer than a nano second, or you’d
know you don’t give tickets to other law enforcement personnel.
It’s not professional.”

His
jeering words burned her. She’d wanted to smack him with her
ticket book.

Fortunately,
her uncle had arrived just then. It hadn’t taken the Sheriff
long to get the picture. He’d tsk tsked a bit, taken the
tickets from Hogan, and stuffed them in his pants pocket. She’d
known her uncle would tear the tickets up. And he had.

Battle
lines were drawn that day. When Hogan dropped by, he alternated
between flirting outrageously and treating her like a child. She
countered with whatever put-down fit the occasion. She was just
counting the days until he packed up and went back to wherever he’d
come from. Until then, her best defense was a good offense.

Still,
it hurt that her best friend’s mother seemed to side with
Hogan. “Grace, you don’t think it’s right for Hogan
to act as if he’s above the law, do you?”

“Oh,
pish. You’re too young to be such a stickler for rules. Just
once I’d like to see you thumb your nose at responsibility.”

Grace’s
outburst surprised Susannah. “You make me sound like a, well,
like a stick in the mud. A pompous stick in the mud at that.”

“Kids
should be kids, but you skipped over that and went straight to
adulthood. You’re too serious to moralize like this.”

Surprised,
Susannah asked, “Do I really sound so self-righteous?”

“No,
hon, no.” Grace smiled and held her thumb and index finger
close together. “Well, maybe just a teeny bit. You gotta quit
judging people and how they should or shouldn’t act. And quit
assuming responsibility for other people. You’ve been doing
that since you were seven. It’s time to live your own life. Let
others live theirs. Good golly. Have some fun. Stop being as
unyielding as a clod of sun-baked mud.”

Grace’s
assessment hurt. A lot. Susannah blinked to dispel the sudden
moisture that threatened to turn into tears. “I was just saying
that Hogan, as a hotshot consultant, should set an example for
others.”

“It’s
not as if he robbed a bank. All he did was double park.”

“That’s
illegal. He was impeding traffic flow. He could have caused a traffic
jam.”

“Oh,
come on. Not only is this the smallest dang county in Texas, it’s
also got the smallest towns. The closest thing to a traffic jam here
in Vance was when Cici Rojas’s pet sheep got loose and rammed
the plate glass window at the bank.”

Susannah
smiled at the memory. She’d been fifteen when the massively
overweight Ruffles had made his great escape.

“Now
that assault sheep impeded traffic when everybody jumped out of their
cars to try to catch him. Would you have written tickets for all of
them or joined in the effort to catch Ruffles? I’m just saying
that sometimes there might be mitigating circumstances to consider.”

Resignation
seeped through Susannah. “You should have been a preacher the
way you keep at a person until she admits her sins. All right. Maybe
he wasn’t impeding traffic. I’ll even admit, I should
have let him off with a verbal warning.”

“You’ve
got a bad case of Rookie Cop. Ever hear about pride going before a
fall?”

The
phone rang again. Susannah decided it was better that Grace thought
she was a gung ho rookie than to have her learn the truth. She
listened to Grace’s side of the conversation, hoping someone,
somewhere, needed a deputy. But the call was from another of Grace’s
friends. No escape. The only thing more boring than this job was the
small town she couldn’t escape from either. And the only thing
more boring than that was her personal life.

In
college, she’d had friends. And dates. Though she’d never
let any relationship slide into the perilous waters of romance. She
sure didn’t have to worry about that here. Eligible men were as
scarce as unbroken sand dollars on a Gulf coast beach. Not that she
cared, she silently affirmed. She’d decided long ago that all
she wanted was a career. She’d be a good cop. If her uncle
would give her a chance. She didn’t want romance, but a social
life would be nice.

Unfortunately,
her high school friends had deserted Vance for the bright lights of
Houston or San Antonio. She didn’t blame them. She’d have
done the same if it hadn’t been for her mother. Luke Orland,
her high school boyfriend, was now a cop down in Murphy’s Cove,
but they hadn’t hooked up when she’d come home. To Luke,
women were divided into two groups. Those good for sexy fun and
games, and those he’d never get between the sheets. She still
fell into the latter category.

Boring
job. Boring town. Boring personal life. The triple threat was about
to do her in.

Maybe
it would be more bearable when Paula came home. Grace’s
daughter taught at Sam Houston State, the college they’d both
attended. When the summer semester ended next week, she’d be
home. That might save her sanity.

To
Susannah’s annoyance, after Grace finished the latest call, she
picked up where she’d left off. “You’ve always been
a rule follower, but in law enforcement, professional courtesy is as
important as protecting and serving. You don’t write the
Mayor’s pal a ticket. Especially when the Mayor runs the
richest town in the county. And you sure don’t ticket a cruiser
from another police department.” Then Grace spoiled the whole
effect of her professional courtesy lecture by giggling like a school
girl. “There’s easier ways to get a stud muffin like
Hogan to notice you.”

Horrified,
Susannah stared at Grace. Surely the woman couldn’t know. “I
did not write him a ticket so he’d notice me. Even if the
governor declares D. E. Hogan heaven’s gift to womankind, I
wouldn’t be interested. He’s not even what I’d call
handsome.”

“Well,
Susy Q,” a male voice drawled. “I’m mortally
wounded. Are you sure you don’t find me appealing?”

The
Trouble With Love by Joan Reeves

Book
1:Texas One Night Stands

Available
Now

Excerpt,
Old Enough To Know Better

Book
1: The Good, The Bad, and The Girly Series

By
Joan Reeves

You
know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men going
astray? Well, Stormy Clarkson decided, the best-laid plans of women
old enough to know better didn’t just go astray. They went into
some kind of hyperspace wormhole, and, when they came out the other
end, they landed on your unsuspecting head like Dorothy’s house
crushing the wicked witch.

What
was she going to do? She was in over her head, and she knew it.

Her
hands shook as she pulled the shimmering red silk dress from the
hanger. She stepped into the dress and pulled it up, slipping her
arms through the straps. A lot of women her age avoided showing their
arms, but sagging triceps were the least of her problems tonight.

Besides,
she’d made exercise her addiction of choice years ago. Not only
was it a way to deal with stress but also it helped fill the empty
hours of the life she’d chosen.

Chosen?

No.
Stop it!

With
fierce determination, Stormy reminded herself of certain truths. Now
was not the time to fall into that old mental debate. Not tonight.
She owned her decisions. She’d moved on. She liked the person
she’d become when she’d finally grown up.

You’re
just scared.

When
she got scared, the temptation to brand an L for loser on her
forehead was overpowering. Put a sock in it, she scolded herself.

Stormy
zipped her dress then studied her reflection in the full-length
mirror. She was lucky. Sure, she had some tiny lines around the
corners of her eyes, but her throat was still firm, as were her legs,
and the aforementioned arms. Her boobs didn’t droop. Yet. And
her stomach was still flat. Not bad for a woman who turned fifty
today. But was it good enough to be naked later with a man younger
than she?

No,
she couldn’t do it. She was insane to even be thinking about
it.

Her
hands shook as she pulled the pins from her hair. If only she hadn’t
let Libby talk her into this Wine Country Weekend. If only she was at
home, alone. Like all the other nights for as long as she could
remember. If only she could stop thinking about sex.

Sex
with
him.
With his large hands touching her. Everywhere.

If
only she hadn’t kissed him. But the heat in his eyes had drawn
her. She felt like a moth that had already made the acquaintance of
the flame and was over-heated from the encounter.

Stormy
groaned. Heaven help her, but she wanted to be naked in his arms.

What
was she going to do? If she had a brain in her head, she’d pack
up and leave. Or at least stay in her bungalow and not answer the
door.

Run
away or stay?

The
mirror reflected her indecision. Stormy sighed and smoothed the red
silk over her breasts and down her body. A body that seemed to have
grown a few million more, ultra-sensitive, nerve endings since she’d
met Jack Butler, the owner of the winery.

What
would it feel like if Jack touched her like this? A shiver of sexual
awareness raced up her spine. The dress made her look as blatantly
sexual as she felt.

A
knock on the door made Stormy jump. A heavy pulse beat between her
legs. Decision time.

Hide
or open the door?

Old
Enough To Know Better

Book
1: The Good, The Bad, and The Girly Series

By
Joan Reeves

Available
July 2011

***

Enjoy an
Excerpt from

Lady Be
Bad by Elaine Raco Chase

Available
Now

“Because
I’m not going to defer. I’m accepting your challenge.”

“Mimi,
it won’t work.”

His
authoritative tone increased her courage and strengthened her
determination. “Oh, yes, it will.” Her lashes lowered in
a dark sweep. “I bet I could seduce you right now.”

Noah
moved to cross his arms over his chest, then suddenly stopped to
examine his hands, holding them for her inspection. “See these
withered, prune-like fingers, that’s an exact duplicate of
another part of my anatomy. Besides, I’m exhausted from
seducing you all night.”

Marlayna
might have demurred if Noah hadn’t capped that blatantly macho
comment with a patronizing grin.
How like a man to take full
credit for a night of pleasure. How clever of a woman to make him
think just that!
Dipping the loofa sponge back into the
percolating, steamy lather, she marshaled every clever wile she
possessed and decided to flex a few feminine muscles. “Oh,
Noah, you poor man. Here I’ve been babbling on and on about
utter nonsense when you needed ministering.”