Dreading seeing the sheriff, because it was just a matter of time before he’d arrive, I was thinking of what I was going to say to him. I’ve never felt awkward around men, but I do around him. He makes me lose my cool and brain cells, quite honestly.
This is the only explanation I can think of while I’m driving toward the Ghost House, breaking all speed limits whileno oneis chasing me. Unfortunately.
For a moment, there in the bar, I thought he worried aboutme, Josie, but turns out he was justdoing his job.
Slowing down on the muddy road that seems to never dry, I try to avoid any ditches and bears because I’ve reached my limit of adventures for today.
I park in my usual spot and walk into the house. I can’t do much yet, and quite frankly, I don’t have the energy for anything substantial today, but I found a cute breakfast table in the basement and dragged it up to the kitchen. Made of oak, like many things in this house, it can easily be used anywhere, accentuating the sturdiness of the place. I bought missing supplies for refinishing it, and now is the perfect time to distract myself with something other than imagining Sheriff’s piercing.
I take off my bracelets and put them on the island so I won’t forget them when I go to the trailer—they’re my favorite pieces I bought with my very first paycheck. I’m about to pull gloves on when I hear the engine of a car. A big car. A truck, most likely. Peeking through the window, I feel butterflies start flying in my belly, beating on my lady parts from the inside. They’re ready for an adventure before he even steps foot inside the house.
He slowly gets out of the cruiser and walks toward the door, his eyes never once leaving the window where I’m hiding.
The door opens.
The sound of footsteps moves my way.
When he notices me, he pauses, tilting his head.
“You’ve been bad, Josie.” His voice is coarse. Way coarser than I’ve ever heard.
He slowly brings his hands to his belt, and they start working the buckle. Slowly.
I swallow the driest lump I’ve ever had in my life.
“But I think you know that.” His low chuckle joins the butterflies in tickling every part of me. “Don’t you?”
I don’t say anything because I simply can’t.
“What happened, Josephina?” He tilts his head to the other side while using the name I hate. Or do I? “Cat got your tongue?”
He pulls the belt off, drops it on the floor, and takes one step toward me. I take one backward and hit the wall behind me.
“Josephina?” he asks breathily, and I don’t think I hate the name that much anymore. Maybe just dislike it a bit.
I quickly shake my head.
“Good.” He smiles. “Very good. Because you need to explain to me what you were thinking by running away from me.” A step forward. “You wanted me to chase you, didn’t you?”
I blink.
“You wanted to see what I can become when I’m high on the chase.” A bullseye—he got my intention right. I’ve been wanting to see what Sheriff Benson is made of for a long time.
He undoes the button on his pants, and my eyes dip right there.
“I’m very high on the chase right now, Josephina. Very high. What are you going to do about it?” His voice drops so low, it’s barely his anymore.
“I wa—” I clear my throat because I can’t even put two words together, and he hasn’t even touched me. “I wanted to see what’s under the hood of that hero complex the size of Maine.”
He moves toward me like a predator, and I flee behind the island.
“Do I feel like a hero to you now?”
I shake my head, watching his actions warily. Butterflies erupt in the pit of my stomach, and all I want is for him to touch me, but I know that the second he does, I’ll erupt into flames like a phoenix.
“Still want to look under the hood?” His tongue pokes out for a moment.
I nod.
