The Sheriff Meets His Match

C
opyright
© 2016 by Jacquie Biggar

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

I
have so
many people I’d like to thank. First, and foremost my husband, Robert John. Without you I wouldn’t have had the courage to pursue my dreams, thank you.

My mom, who has always been my guiding light and allows me to toss ideas with her. Thank you.

To my daughter, Brandy, my inspiration to never give up.

To my critique buddies, you know who you are. Without you pushing me to better myself, this book might never have happened.

To my beta readers for their tremendous input and the reviewers who are key to a writer’s success. Thank you.

And last but not least, to Kim Killion and Jennifer Jakes, for the beautiful cover I’m so proud of and the formatting and uploading services you provide. Thank you.

Jacquie Biggar

T
he highlight
of the book is without a doubt the characterization. The characters shine and make the book worthwhile.

InD’Tale Magazine- Tidal Falls

Y
a just gotta love Jack
.... Jack is the sexy sheriff in the town of Tidal Falls who has dedicated his life to his job and raising his daughter. You see, Jack's ex-wife took off and left him not only a broken man but a single man with a child to raise on his own. Needless to say Jack has closed off his heart to longterm relationships.

But when a sassy, totally disorganized yet gorgeous women, Laurel, comes to town and is given a temp job at the Sheriff's office, it test's Jack's ability to not only resist her but to stay sane. Needless to say these two push all the wrong buttons while trying to fight an attraction neither wants to admit, especially when her uncle comes to town. (Laurel's uncle is a professional con-man and often running from the law). And once again, he brings trouble to Laurel's door.

This is a funny, lighthearted romance that will keep you laughing at this crazy bunch while guessing what in the world is going to happen next.

I Huge WTG to Ms. Biggar for this delightful tale in the Lonely Hearts series.

By Barbara Barber- The Sheriff Meets His Match

“
A
re
you going to answer me?” That voice. The deep, dark, mesmerizing timbre of his voice had featured in more than a few of Laurel’s overnight fantasies of late. Combine that with a body built like a tank and a set of handcuffs and…

“
Miss Thomas
.”

His impatience woke her up to her very real predicament. Either she came up with a plausible answer now, or she could very likely end up spending the night in an interrogation room. Not that she would mind sharing a room with the big bad sheriff, but one with a bed would be preferable. Wait, did she really just think that? Obviously, it’d been too long since she had a meaningful relationship—hashtag sex.

J
ack Garrett sat
in his cruiser hidden behind the updated
Welcome to Tidal Falls, Washington
sign,
population eight thousand and one.
The,
and one
being his Aunt Tess’s newest godson, Caleb. She liked to claim that without her help, Nick Kelley and Sara Reed might never have fallen in love and given birth to their little boy.

He chewed on his donut, wiped the crumbs from his shirt, and thanked Christ they hadn’t set their matchmaking eyes on him.

Yet.

Tess, along with his friend Jared’s mom, Grace, and her housemate Susan, considered it their life’s work to entrap every unsuspecting bachelor that dared set foot anywhere within their radar. The three women took pride in their so-called ability to find true love.

Love.
Jack almost choked on his lukewarm coffee. He had serious doubts such an animal truly existed. It certainly hadn’t in his case. Even his brother Ty had only recently found his mate, Katy Fowler, after a ten-year separation and a near death experience. If that’s what it took to have a warm body in his bed, he’d pass.

Snow began to accumulate on the windshield so Jack cranked the key and started up the wipers. Winter was making an early appearance this year and causing him no end of grief. It was amazing how stupid drivers could be under adverse road conditions. Seemed like the worse the weather; the faster they had to fly, and sometimes it came at the cost of lives. He’d lost count of how many callouts he’d been on this month, and it was only the middle of November. If the temperature would cooperate and drop a few degrees it could do a world of good. Instead, it hovered around the freezing mark which was just warm enough to make the roads shitty.

He lifted his coffee to his lips and swore when a little blue pisspot flew by him on the road, a puffy cloud of loose snow causing a temporary whiteout behind its skidding tires.

Jack had the cup in the holder and the car in gear almost before the snow settled. His foot punched the gas while the hand not holding onto the wheel reached over and flicked on the sirens. His car did a little fishtail as it hit the pavement from the gravel verge but he got it under control quickly enough. Winter tires made a big difference, too bad no one told that to the driver of the car in front of him. It was swerving all over the place. He wasn’t sure how the shit-for-brains driving kept the vehicle on the road. Good thing most people were smart enough to stay indoors during a storm and the highway was relatively quiet.

It took longer than it should have for whoever it was to notice his lights. Finally brake lights flashed and the car inched over to the shoulder. At least they were smart enough not to pump the brakes.

Jack stayed on their tail until they stopped and then he parked behind them, half on, half off the road. It would be just his luck to pull someone over for a traffic violation and end up getting run down. His daughter would really be pissed off then. The thought of his teenager left alone in the world because of some idiot’s careless driving did nothing to ease his temper. This guy was going to get an earful.

He took his time and set up his computer to run the database of license plates, though the one on the car in front of him was almost too snow-encrusted to read. While waiting, he grabbed his leather gloves from the seat beside him and stepped out of the car.

A blast of what felt like a Canadian wind had him hurrying to zip closed his shearling jacket and pull the collar up to protect his neck. He trudged through the drifting snow toward the driver’s side window of the speed freak, careful to keep behind the line of his cruiser in case any other idiots were on the road today. The glass was so frosty he couldn’t see the person on the other side. The tires weren’t the only problem with the car, the heater didn’t work either.

Jack waited, but when the occupant made no effort to roll down their window he impatiently pounded on the glass with a closed fist. A little shriek came from inside. The door creaked open and he backed out of the way, his hand on the butt of his gun. You couldn’t be too careful these days, even if this was a normally quiet little town.

A shapely calf encased in black leather boots with killer heels swung over the door-jam and set down gingerly into the snow. Jack’s stunned gaze followed the length of nylon-clad leg up to a thigh-hugging black skirt and a fuzzy, fur jacket in bright pink. Who the heck wore furs anymore? Curious, he lifted his eyes and met the honey brown gaze of his new secretary, Laurel Thomas.

Why was he even surprised?

“Miss Thomas.”

Jack crossed his arms and rocked back on the much shorter heels of his cowboy boots. “Do you realize we’re in the middle of a snowstorm? Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry you’d risk your life to get there?” And where did she get the car? So far as he knew, she’d always walked to the office from wherever she was staying.

She glared at him before stepping out of the car, only to gasp when her foot slid out from under her and she almost went down. Jack reached out and grabbed her arm to hold her upright, contrarily wishing he’d forgotten his gloves. Bet that fur was soft. It looked real soft against the blush of her cheeks.

Frowning, he released her as soon as he was sure she wasn’t going to land on her… assets. Her nose was pink. It was kinda cute actually. What was he thinking? There was nothing
cute
about this situation. She could have been seriously injured, or hurt someone else with her carelessness. He was tempted to throw the book at her—that is until he looked into those golden brown depths and saw a hint of fear she couldn’t quite hide.

What the hell?

Was she afraid of him? No, her attention was on the road she’d just traveled. He glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing except swirling clouds of powdery white snow and a howling northern wind. If this kept up ol’ Hank was going to have a busy night on the plow truck.

“Why did you pull me over?”

The haughty voice tugged his head around in disbelief. Was she kidding? Her chin tipped up in a defiant gesture and she crossed her arms under her healthy chest—not that he was looking.

“I’m asking the questions,
Miss Thomas
.” What was it about this woman that made him feel like a cat getting rubbed the wrong way? Twitchy.

* * *

L
aurel couldn’t believe
her luck. Nothing had gone right for her in more months than she could count on one hand, and this was just the cherry on her crap cake. Of course, if she were going to be pulled over it would be by the sheriff, her blinking boss. And how’s that for ironic anyway? She’d only agreed to help her friend Rebecca’s mom out because she needed some space
from
the law.

Ha, the joke was on her.

Rebecca had conveniently forgotten to mention Angie worked at the county sheriff’s office. By the time Laurel realized just what she would be doing it was too late. She’d spent the last of her admittedly meager savings fixing her car up in order to make the trip from Miami. And it was all to no avail. Her uncle had still managed to follow her to town and set up his latest scam. There was no escape now. All she could do was try and minimize the damage without ending up behind bars herself.

“Are you going to answer me?” That voice. The deep, dark, mesmerizing timbre of his voice had featured in more than a few of Laurel’s overnight fantasies of late. Combine that with a body built like a tank and a set of handcuffs and…

“
Miss Thomas
.”

His impatience woke her up to her very real predicament. Either she came up with a plausible answer now, or she could very likely end up spending the night in an interrogation room. Not that she would mind sharing a room with the big bad sheriff, but one with a bed would be preferable. Wait, did she really just think that? Obviously, it’d been too long since she had a meaningful relationship—hashtag sex.

“Sorry, boss, it won’t happen again.” She almost smiled at the annoyance that flared in his chocolate brown eyes. They’d managed to strike sparks off each other ever since she started almost two months ago. She enjoyed pushing his buttons to see if she could make him lose that composed demeanor he wore like a mantle around his shoulders. The guy needed to loosen up. Life was too short to waste it all on responsibilities. Heaven knew, she’d done more than her share of time at that particular shrine.

“You need winter tires on that piece of… metal,” he warned her. “And slow down. I realize where you come from snow is not an issue, but it is here. I don’t have the time or the manpower to be pulling you out of some ditch every time you feel the need to push the limit.”

She almost slapped her hand up in a salute at his tone of command, but thought better of it at the last second. Her daddy didn’t raise no dummy.

“Okay, well, fun as this has been, I really need to get going. My boss is something of a stickler for efficiency. Maybe you’ve met him?” She leaned in as though she’d just imparted a state secret, breathing in the fresh clean scent of his aftershave and was that—coffee? Her mouth salivated, whether it was for the hunky male standing before her, or a shot of nirvana in the form of some much-needed caffeine she wasn’t sure. Who was she kidding? Of course it was for the coffee.

Jack stared at her like she was a head-case, which she absolutely was… not.

“If you’re done with the wisecracks, you can drive—slowly—to Gus’s Garage and I’ll see about getting that heater fixed. You can’t go around all winter without a defrost cycle in that piece of crap you call a car.” He squinted into the face of the growing storm and swore. “This weather’s not going to lighten up any in the near future. I’ll follow you in. Do you know where it is?”

Laurel’s back stiffened in outrage. Who did he think he was? If she wanted her car fixed, she’d get it fixed. She didn’t need some hotshot telling her what to do. She got enough of that from home.

Rather than arguing with him, Laurel climbed behind the wheel and started the engine, waiting for its high-pitched scream to wind down so she could drive. She pulled her Visa card out of her wallet and proceeded to scrape the frost off the inside of the windows. Who said credit cards aren’t recyclable?

When she’d made a patch large enough to see out of, Laurel shifted into gear, and only then allowed herself a glance at the glowering hulk standing outside her door. She rolled the window down just enough to be heard.

“Sure, I know where Gus’s is, but I don’t need him. I can see just fine.” The car rolled forward a couple of inches, as anxious to escape as she was. “Catch you back at the office, Boss.”

Then she punched the gas and gasped as the car slid sideways and narrowly missed clipping Jack with the rear fender. Laurel laughed, straightened out the wheels and took off down the road in a flurry of snow.