Page 23 of Enticed

I crack a small smile and then open my hand in front of her, prompting her to lead the way.

“Thank you again for offering to help with the event, Clara. This turnout is phenomenal,” I say, trying to break the tension.”

“Like I said, it’s the least I could do after what you and the department did for me.” She looks anywhere but at me.

“So how was your week?” I ask, trying to fill the awkward silence between us.

Clara shoots me an irritated look before facing forward again. “It was… interesting.”

“How so?” I push her further, wanting to crawl inside her mind so I can see what she’s thinking. Her response was short, her posture is off-putting—she’s clearly giving me the ‘leave me the hell alone’ vibe, but I’m not taking the hint very well.

She clears her throat. “Well, my best friend’s younger brother kissed me without a valid explanation…”

Okay, no skirting around the elephant in the park then…

“Then, I saw a therapist for the first time in my life and realized I’m way more fucked up than I thought possible,” she shrugs, playing off her confession like it didn’t just take the conversation and completely steer it over a cliff.

“Clara, you’re not fucked up. You went through something traumatizing and have to learn how to function again…” I offer, attempting to reach out to her as she skirts out of my reach.

“Why didn’t it affect you like it did me then, huh? You got shot, but I don’t see you drinking yourself stupid each time the memories get to be too much…” She stops mid-stride, searching my face for an answer I’m not sure I can give. Her eyes are even darker than normal and there’s a fire there—whether it’s hatred or desire for me, I’m not sure.

“It was only a graze of the bullet, Clara. And it’s part of my job. I know that getting shot can happen. But what you went through…” I lower my voice as people walk all around us.

“Never mind, forget I said anything. Good luck with your auction, Cooper,” she waves me off, shuffling her feet quickly away from me in the opposite direction of the tent we stopped in front of.

“Fuck,” I mutter, but am granted with disapproving looks from parents walking by, holding their children’s hands. “Sorry,” I say, turning on my heels and marching into the tent where the other single deputies await their fate.

“Walsh, where you been, man?” Cash comes up to me, gripping my shoulder in a tight, brotherly squeeze.

“Emotional hell,” I reply, reaching for a bottle of water to quench the dryness in my throat from my conversation with Clara.

“Do tell,” Cash urges with a raise of his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, okay. It isn’t nothing if you’re looking like you’re about to punch someone.”

“Women are just irritating…”

“Ooooo, there’s a woman?” Cash prods, standing right in front of me now to prevent me from focusing on anyone but him, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes… no… I don’t know,” I start to run my hands through my hair, but stop myself so I don’t mess it up. Yeah, I know—I sound like a woman. But my hair looks really good right now and I want to present myself proudly on stage.

“Are you hoping you win the crown, too, Miss America?” Cash mocks me, pulling me from my thoughts.

“What?” I say, confused as all hell.

“I saw you almost mess up your hair and then pull back. You’re worried about looking your best, huh? Do you think you’re going to earn more money than me, Walsh? ‘Cause I’ll be the first to tell you, brother… that ain’t gonna happen,” Cash brushes off his shoulder and then blows on his fingers, like the tool he really is.

“You have problems, Williams… but you know what? I’ll take that bet,” I reach out to shake his hand, but he leaves me hanging.

“No shaking until we know what we’re betting,” he shakes his head and then continues. “So what are the stakes?” He asks, just as Captain arrives, ready to address the group.

“Whoever brings in the least amount of money…” I pause for effect, “Has to ask out Misty Chambers,” I grin like the Grinch—because anyone who’s been around this town long enough knows Misty, and I need a distraction from the emotional rollercoaster I just rode on with Clara sitting shotgun.

“Fuck, that’s devious,” he shudders. “But you know what, I’m so positive I’ll beat you, I’m perfectly fine with that,” he challenges, reaching out his hand this time as we meet in the middle and solidify our agreement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to get this show on the road,” Captain addresses the dozen or so of us gathered in the tent. Helen, one of the committee volunteers, reviews the auction order and explains how things will go.

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