Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) (13 page)

BOOK: Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4)
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“Fine!” Honor
huffed, throwing her hands in the air.  “I’ll tell somebody where I’m going at
all times. Happy now?”

“Not quite, but
we’re getting’ there,” he replied.  “Next up, you need to understand you can’t
stay here at the homestead alone, Kitten.”  Holding up a hand when she opened
her mouth to most likely yell at him, he continued, “I understand that you
wanna be here for the holidays because it’s comforting to you.  I also can see
that this is where you feel most at ease.  And if you really want to stay here,
I’ll go along with it….”

“You will?” Honor
interjected excitedly.  “Seriously?” she all but squealed, her face beaming at
him so brightly that he almost wished he didn’t have to put the next
stipulation on her.

Almost.

But, not quite.

“You can stay
right here in your home, babe, as long as someone is here at the house with you
when you are here AND you agree to let me stay here with you at night,” Zeke
further explained, his gut clenching as he watched her smile dissolve.

“What?” Honor
balked unhappily.  “You wanna live here?  WITH me?  Are you crazy?”

“I’m perfectly
sane and you heard me fine,” Zeke returned resolutely.  “I refuse to take any
chances with your safety.  It’s either this or you continue to stay with one of
your sisters.  You have three to choose from.”

Zeke’s lips
twitched when Honor closed her eyes and lifted her face toward the ceiling, her
lips moving silently.  It was obvious she was praying.  Probably for patience. 
Maybe for his imminent demise.  Either way, if she was conferring with the
Almighty, she wasn’t shouting at him.

Win/Win.

“I don’t want a
roommate,” she grumbled a minute later as she lowered her head and stared at
him with a wrinkled nose.

“Me either; I want
a wife, but we’re all being forced to make compromises for the cause,” Zeke
shared lightly, chuckling aloud when Honor shot him a look that promised a grim
death if he used the word ‘wife’ again.

“We can’t do it,
Zeke.  Use that brain of yours and cook up another alternative.  Honestly, what
would people say about us?”

“Honor, I neither
have the time nor the energy to be concerned with offending the delicate
sensibilities of the old nags in town.  My primary objective is to keep you
breathing.”

“Of course, you
can afford to feel like that.  Nobody ever looks down on the man for living in
sin.  It’s the women that suffer,” she grumbled morosely.

Zeke straightened
at that.  “The first person that thinks to make you suffer so much as a flinch
will feel what it’s like to piss me way the hell off, Honor.  I promise you
that,” he vowed quietly.

Moving past him to
sink into one of the straight backed chairs around the round kitchen table, she
offered Zeke a worried look.  “Do you think my severed brake lines have
something to do with what happened when I was a teenager?” she asked
nervously.  “Do you think one of those awful monsters is back and that’s why
you’re trying to shadow my every move?  Because one of them wants to…” she
trailed off, shivering.

“Hey,” Zeke
chided, moving to drop to a knee in front of where she sat and taking her hand
in his, “I have no concrete reason to believe the two incidents are related,”
he offered, softening the truth a bit.

“You know that
isn’t true,” she murmured, staring at their joined hands.  “You heard Tanner’s
dying words just like I did.”

Zeke watched as
Honor seemed to drift away from him, her eyes growing dimmer as her skin
paled.  Tightening his fingers around her cooling hand, he shook it gently. 
“Babe?” he called.  When she didn’t look at him, he felt his heart skip a
beat.  In those moments, he knew that Honor wasn’t there with him, but locked
in her past.  “Baby, don’t do this.  Come back to me,” he urged, dropping her
hand to cup her cheeks.   “Honor!” he barked, desperate to pull her back to the
here and now.  “Kitten, you gotta say something for me,” he demanded.

  Honor jerked in
her seat as she seemed to crash land back into the present.  “I-I’m here,” she
managed to acknowledge before she leaned forward to bury her face in Zeke’s
neck.  “I hate remembering,” she whispered against his warm skin, inhaling his
fresh pine scent deeply.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  “Sometimes I get caught
back there and it’s hard finding my way back.”

“You have nothing
to be sorry for, baby.  Nothing at all,” Zeke assured her gently, his kind
words sincere and heartfelt.  “I just wish sometimes I could go back with you
so I could drag you out of those memories.”

“Me, too,” Honor
admitted with a watery chuckle.  After a long silent minute, she softly uttered
words that nearly broke his heart.  “I’m afraid they’ll get me next time,
Zeke.  They’ll get me and finish what they started.   They’ll destroy me.”

His arms constricted
around her as she gave voice to her worst fear.  “I will NEVER let anyone hurt
you like that again.  I don’t care what Suarez said before he died.  I don’t
care what I have to do.  I will not let those animals touch you.  Anyone that
wants to harm you is gonna have to face me first, and if you remember, I make a
fairly formidable opponent.”

“I know,” she
sniffled, wiping her finger under her damp nose before lifting her head to look
at him with still wet eyes.  “You can stay,” she murmured.  “Heck, you’re the
only one besides my family I could even tolerate staying in my space.  But I’ve
got a condition, too.  I want a Christmas tree.  And not that fake one that I
was trying to drag down from the attic.  I want you to take me out in the woods
to find a real one.”

Zeke grinned as he
heard his woman trying to bargain with him.  Honest to God, he’d find a way to
bring her the moon if that’s what she really wanted, but he couldn’t help
having a little fun with her first.

“It’s like ten
degrees out there, Kitten?  Do you know what happens to a man’s gonads when
they have prolonged exposure to those kind of temperatures?”

“Nope.  Nor do I
care.  I want one of those Douglas firs that daddy planted on the back of the
property,” she clarified, remarkably unconcerned about the horrors his dick
might face in the elements.

“Your sisters
won’t like it if I drag you out in the cold and you get sick, you know.  You
just had surgery a few weeks ago,” he pointed out as Honor stood and hurried
toward the rack where the warmer coats were hanging.  “I’m takin’ my life in my
hands if I agree to this.”

“God detests both
whiners and wimps, Ezekiel and you are doing a stunning impression of both
right now,” she declared as she slid a thick coat over her narrow shoulders.

 “God created the
McKinnon girls, Kitten.  He gets where I’m coming from right now,” Zeke stated
dismissively, walking across the room to stand in front of her.  “But if you
truly want me to risk life and limb to bring you your ideal Christmas tree, I’m
gonna need one thing.”

“I already agreed
to let you live here until you find who’s tryin’ to do me ill, Zeke?  What more
could you possibly want?” Honor huffed peevishly.

 “Another one of
these,” Zeke grinned before bending to capture her unsuspecting mouth indeed.

And as his lips
molded to hers, Zeke decided it was beginning to look like a very Merry
Christmas indeed.

Chapter Five

 

January 2016

If the month of
January was unusually cold in Paradise County, TN, then the temperatures inside
the McKinnon household was positively frigid.  Because while a truce might have
been drawn between Zeke and Honor to get through the Christmas holidays, it
surely expired during the first full week of January.

There was an icy war
being waged in the normally quiet town, and at the center of it all stood two
of Paradise’s most beloved citizens: their hardworking Sheriff, Ezekiel Monroe,
and the town treasure, Honor McKinnon.  And given the fact that the two primary
adversaries currently cohabitated, there was some real concern that the war
would eventually become a bloodbath of epic proportions. 

Left and right, sides
were being chosen, bets were being taken, and battle plans were being put into
place… and that was just by Orla McKinnon inside the I Don’t Care Café.

Oh, yes.  The power
struggle was very real and most people expected all out anarchy to break out at
any moment.

And all because of
what should have been a tiny, insignificant disagreement.

It was sad.  Truly. 

But as both opponents
refused to back down, the conflict had quickly escalated.

And now the battle
raged.

It was clear that
someone needed to do something before all progress was lost between the two
roomies.

Of course to end the
hostilities, one had to understand the origins and history of it… 

~~***~~

January 17, 2016

7:24 am

The bell above the
café door tinkled as Sheriff Zeke Monroe burst inside, his dark face stormy. 
Spotting Harmony McKinnon Stone standing behind the counter with her husband
Jake, his eyes narrowed.  Barely sparing a glance at the patrons of the
half-full café, he stomped toward the front of the restaurant.  “Where is she,
Harmony?”

Biting her lip in
much the same way her baby sister did when she was in trouble, Harmony moved
closer to her husband.  “Sheriff.  What a surprise seein’ you here,” she
greeted him with a bright smile and a loud voice.  Too loud.

Glaring at the
eldest McKinnon sibling, Zeke shook his head.  He wasn’t a fool.  He could see
what she was doing.  “You can try giving her a head start if you want, Harm,
but I’ve got this joint surrounded.  The only way she’ll get out of the parking
lot is in the back of a squad car.  Now, you wanna tell me just where is she?”

Joining her sister
at the counter in a show of solidarity, Faith McKinnon Turner adjusted her
sleeping baby daughter in her arms. “Now, Zeke, I’m not sure who you think
we’re harboring in our kitchen, but…”

“I don’t think
anything. I happen to KNOW you’re hiding your baby sister.  Deputy Hightower
reported seeing her get out of your Aunt Orla’s vehicle.   Since the car’s
still in the lot, I think it’s safe to assume that Honor is still on the
premises. And no matter how sweet that smile of yours is, Faith, I’ve got no
problem arresting you for aiding and abetting if you don’t send Honor out here
right now!”

“What’s all the
racket out…Uh oh,” Zeke heard a familiar aged voice begin to gripe until the
elderly owner of said voice locked eyes with him.  “Well, hells bells and
little green apples!  Who ratted us out and called the po-po?” Orla McKinnon
asked with an accusatory look at Harmony’s husband, Jake.

Jake held up his
hands in humble supplication.  “I swear, it wasn’t me, Aunt Orla.”

“Nobody called me,
you ornery woman,” Zeke growled, glaring at a woman he’d thought was his ally. 
“I figured it out on my own when I heard the call over the police scanner that
one of my deputies was in hot pursuit of a fire engine red Camaro with an old
lady behind the wheel and a young woman riding shotgun.  The math was pretty
easy from there.  Although the next time you decide to commit a crime with your
niece, you might wanna rethink your choice in vehicles.  Seriously, Miss Orla,”
Zeke growled in frustration, “Don’t you think a red Camaro is a bit much at
your age?  Honestly, they clocked you doin’ seventy in a thirty-mile zone in
that thing.”

“Yeah, my baby can
FLY!  Besides, I was tryin’ to outrun the fuzz you sicced on us,” Orla reasoned
with a shrug of her shoulders.  “So really, it’s your fault.  If you hadn’t put
out an APB on Honor, I wouldn’t have been doing my impression of Mario
Andretti.”

“Really?  How’d
evading the cops go, Miss Orla?  The way I heard it when Deputy Hightower
finally pulled into the lot behind you, he said you had to roll out of the car
onto the pavement.  If Honor hadn’t been there to help you back to your feet,
you’d probably still be out there on the asphalt.  Now, for your trouble you’ve
got bruised knees and a three hundred dollar fine,” he admonished.

Orla grinned. 
“Worth it.”

Zeke rolled his
eyes at the old woman.  “Why don’t you let me go with you this weekend to pick
out a car more appropriate to your age?”

Orla pursed her
lips.  “Sonny, the day I let my local lawman pick out my ride is the day you’ll
find me toes up in the local cemetery.  My Camaro has just the amount of get up
and go that a woman my age needs.  I’ve got to compensate some way, don’t I? 
Besides, I think you got bigger troubles brewing than my choice in vehicles,
don’t you?”

 “Come to think of
it, yeah, I do,” Zeke agreed, shifting his gaze back to Harmony and Faith.  “Your
sister, girls.  Produce her now or live with the consequences.  You both know
it’s too soon for her to be back at work, and I can’t believe any of you
allowed it,” he said as his eyes swept the family behind the counter.

“I was just the
wheel man,” Orla stated dismissively.  “They’re the ones that said she could
work in the kitchen,” she added, jerking her thumb at her nieces.  “They called
Patience and took a vote on it though.  Honor won by a 2 to 1 margin.” 

“That wasn’t a
fair vote,” Harmony complained.  “If Patience had actually been on the premises
instead of safely at home with the triplets, she would have been too scared to
vote against Honor, too.”

“So, you caved?”
Zeke questioned mildly.

“Do YOU like
telling Honor ‘no’?” Faith asked sharply, shaking her head.

“I swear, you gals
would help Honor commit a cold-blooded murder and hide the body for her if she
asked,” Zeke grumbled tiredly.  “As it is, I’ve already got your baby sister
dead to rights for vandalism.  Do y’all wanna help her add evading arrest and
obstruction of justice to her growing list of charges?”

“You are not
seriously sittin’ out here publicly contemplatin’ what YOU are gonna charge ME
with, are you?” Honor questioned as she stood staring at him just inside the
doorway to the kitchen.  “You can NOT be serious!”

Inhaling deeply as
his eyes zoned in on his obviously irritated female, Zeke reminded himself that
he loved this woman.  He loved her more than anything in the world and he’d
surely miss her if he strangled her.  “You.  Here.  Now,” he growled, pointing
from her to the floor beside him.

Honor’s brow
raised in challenge.  “Oh, I don’t think so.  You see, I don’t blindly obey
your almighty commands.  Perhaps, you should consider getting a dog for that. 
After you get the devil out of MY HOUSE, of course!”

“Honor, I’m
begging you to lose the attitude because you are THIS close to pushing me over
the edge,” Zeke warned, holding his thumb and forefinger less than an inch
apart.

“What happens
then?  Do you fall down and go splat?” Honor questioned dryly as her Aunt Orla
cackled.

“She gets her
attitude from me,” Aunt Orla informed one of the elderly customers sitting at
the end of the long counter.  “Makes me proud as punch, it does!”

Glaring at the old
woman, Zeke reminded himself not to be distracted.  “Look, Kitten, unless you
want me to arrest you…”

“Oh, please, get
over yourself,” Honor sputtered dismissively.  “I let the air out of your
tires, Zeke.  It’s hardly the end of the world.  If you’d just listened to
reason last night and agreed to me coming to work this morning, I wouldn’t have
been forced to take such drastic measures once you fell asleep last night.”

Faith, Jake, and
Harmony took a few shuffling steps backward as Zeke’s jaw clenched and his face
turned red.  “The charge against you would be vandalism, Honor.  You tampered
with a police vehicle.  That’s a crime.”

“Yes, a vehicle
which my tax dollars helped to purchase.  So really, you could say that I only
tampered with my share of your car,” she reasoned easily, lifting her chin as
she adjusted her blonde ponytail.  “I, however, have several charges I could
file against you.  And unlike yours, mine would actually STICK!” she yelled,
her eyes flashing dangerously as she nailed him with an irate glare.

“This just gets
better and better,” Aunt Orla chortled.  “Tell us ‘bout these charges, Peanut.”

“Well, let’s see,”
Honor began, tapping her finger to her teeth as she pretended to consider the
question.  “Where do I even start?” she asked.  “Hmmm… I think we’ll start with
the indecent exposure and work out way out from there.  Or should I call it
public nudity?  Since only I was there to witness it, I’m pretty sure I had it
right the first time.  Sheriff?  Thoughts?”

“Whoa!  Whoa! 
Whoa!” Harmony interjected, her eyes dancing with eagerness.  “What exactly did
our good, upstanding Sheriff expose to you, little sister?”

“And why exactly
do you want to know, Mrs. Stone?” Jake questioned an instant later.

“Eh, hush up,
Jacob.  We all wanna know the answer to THAT question,” Aunt Orla retorted.

Zeke stared at
Honor in shock.  “I’ve never exposed anything to you that you didn’t want to
see, Kitten.”

“Not true.  Or was
that NOT your naked hind end streakin’ through my kitchen on the way to the
laundry room just yesterday morning?” Honor returned smartly.  “I don’t know of
any other strange men living in my home.”

“You saw that?”
Zeke yelped, his cheeks turning a ruddy red hue as every eye in the café
focused on him.

“Twice.  You
streaked back to the bathroom when you didn’t find what you were lookin’ for in
the laundry room,” Honor informed him, crossing her arms over her gingham
apron. 

“We were out of
bath towels, and I thought you were upstairs in your sewing room,” Zeke
grumbled under his breath.  “I had to dry off with a hand towel.”

“Well, we might
have had a supply of towels if more than just me took it upon themselves to
start a load of laundry, wouldn’t we, roomie?” she asked on a hiss.

“Alright, fair
point,” Zeke admitted guiltily.  He hated laundry, but if it meant that much to
Honor, he’d make an effort.  “You can stop airing our dirty laundry.  No pun
intended.”

“No, I don’t think
I will, Ezekiel,” Honor replied staunchly.  “Now then, let’s talk about how
he’s gone and stepped all over my second amendment right to bear arms by hiding
all my guns!” she notified the café at large conversationally.  “Yep, every
single one of my firearms has come up missing since you’ve been staying with
me.  For somebody that claims he wants me to be safe, you sure don’t care if
I’m prepared to meet the bad guy or not.”

“Maybe that’s
because you threatened to shoot me on my second week in the house with you. 
And I’m the GOOD guy, Kitten,” Zeke fumed. 

“That was your
fault!  You messed up all my TiVo programming trying to watch the blame Super
Bowl.  I’m a girl that – up until recently – lived alone!  I don’t give a
wooden nickel about a foolish football game.  You messed with my Daryl Dixon
time, Sheriff, and most women will tell you that’s a shootin’ offence. 
Completely unforgiveable!”

“She’s right,”
Faith agreed with a nod.  “I’d kill Cain if he got in the way of The Walking
Dead.”

“See!  This is
what I’m saying,” Honor said, waving a hand at her sister before turning back
to face the sheriff.  “This so-called lawman had been abusin’ his authority and
relishing depriving me of my rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of
peaceful blame night where I’m not forced to watch Sports Center on ESPN!”

“I asked you if
you minded us watching it last night and you said it was fine,” Zeke countered
defensively, reaching up to yank his Stetson off his head and throw it down on
the stool beside him.

“Don’t you know
that ‘Its fine’, is code for ‘Give me the remote, asshole’?” Jake asked in a
low voice.

“Obviously not,”
Zeke snapped.

“Oh, enough about
the stupid sports show,” Orla huffed.  “Tell me more about the sheriff’s naked
butt, Honor?  Is it as firm as it looks?  Can ya bounce a quarter off it and
make fifty cents?  Did you only get a rear view, or did full frontal come with
the show?  C’mon gal, important questions need quick answers!”

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