Page 65 of Riding the High

My eyes trace her silhouette, from her pretty heel-clad feet to the mass of waves that dance atop her head and fall perfectly out of her carefully placed pins. The black silky dress she said Liv brought over today fits her like a satin glove, gliding over the hips that beg for my hands. The waist is cinched tight, and the top gives the illusion that one small movement would have her full breasts freed, and hopefully in my mouth.

The expanse of skin visible above the strapless bodice is dewy and smooth, and looks so fucking soft, just like it felt last night.

“How does this look?” she asks for both of them. I snap outof my trance as she turns her eyes to me for the first time since I entered the room. When she does, her eyes roam me the same way mine roamed her. Only she seems to get it together a lot faster than I did. A million thoughts run through my mind as to how to answer her.

Stunning, tempting, exquisite, sinful, mine.

I remind myself Mabel is in the room, looking up at me expectantly.

“You both look very beautiful,” I say coolly. They look at each other and then back to me.

“We match!” Mabel says. Her little black dress with white flowers all over has puffed sleeves and falls to her knees. She is adorable, and I couldn’t love her more if I tried.

“Of course you do,” I say with a smile.

They make their way out through the front door and, as I place my hand on Ginger’s back to guide her, the heat of the touch races up my forearm. I will myself to get through this night without making my first order of business as the sworn-in sheriff pulling her into the bathroom and hiking that dress up over her hips.

The ballroom at the Grand Oaks Country Club is filled with a few hundred people from town. This is always a formal event and one that is taken seriously. I’m not even in the door before people are shaking my hand and congratulating me, telling me how good a job they think I’ll do for the county.

Mabel finds my family and I get through the hordes of people, thinking about Ginger behind me, keeping her comfortable and making sure she isn’t alone.

I turn to guide her to our seats, but she isn’t even there when I turn around. I scan the crowd but don’t see her as the mayor posts up beside me for a photo opportunity with his media team. He congratulates me on my new position and we talk for a few moments about my upcoming plans. My eyes are anywhere but on him as I search for Ginger. The mayor’s publicist pulls him aside and it’s then that I see her, standing in a circle with four of my deputies and an officer I don’t know, maybe from out of county. She’s chatting away, smiling and laughing while each one of them takes in her body in that dress like they’ve never seen anyone like her. She either doesn’t notice or does but doesn’t mind. Both of which piss me off equally. I set my jaw and get sucked into yet another conversation while Ginger talks with the cop I don’t know. He’s leaning back against a table, like he’s about to pull her toward him.

“Do you think that will work with your schedule?” asks Daryl Buckner. He runs the community outreach program for the local Salvation Army. His question brings my attention back to the conversation at hand. I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about. What I do know is that Ginger just laughed and rested her arm on that cop’s chest like they’re BFFs.

“Uh … sure, call my office,” I say, patting him on the shoulder as the MC asks everyone to take their seats. The crowd thickens between me and Ginger and I make my way to my family’s table as someone starts playing a set of bagpipes to open the ceremony.

Everyone is here. Mama and Pop are on one side of the table. There are a few empty chairs between them, and then Nash and CeCe—who sits next to Mabel, playing tic-tac-toe with her on the back of a napkin. I’m perched beside Wade and Ivy because it was the only spot where there were two empty seats side by side.

Ginger finally makes her way over and sits across from me,at the coaxing of Mabel beside her, leaving the space beside me that I was saving for her glaringly empty. Her eyes meet mine across the table.

“Since when do you save Ginger a seat?” CeCe asks in front of everyone with a grin, assessing the look I’m giving Ginger that probably askswhy aren’t you sitting here?

“He’s being weird today, maybe something to do with all that sheriff pressure.” Ginger smirks. “Anyway, Mabel and I already planned to sit next to each other. Gotta play hangman together.”

“Good, you take over,” CeCe commands. “I could use a break anyway. She’s killing me at tic-tac-toe.” Mabel smiles up at CeCe and I grimace, not liking this seating situation one bit.

“You alright? You look like you could use a cuddle, Cole. Is Brent here yet?” Ginger giggles as she normally would when she’s ribbing me, but her eyes tell me she isn’t having as much fun tormenting me tonight. After our conversation earlier, she seems almost nervous. Which she should be, because I’m ready to snap. I’m about thirty seconds away from pulling her into the nearest hallway and wiping that bratty little smirk right off her face with my cock down her throat.

“You can always cuddle Wade and your badge,” CeCe snickers to me.

“Not a chance, I’m not the good sheriff’s emotional support puppy,” Wade chides.

“And I won’t call you Sheriff at the dinner table, boy,” Pop says with a wink, taking a sip of his drink. “Just because you’re the boss at work, don’t expect us to treat you any different.”

I grin at him. He’s looking as spiffy as Pop gets, in a suit I think he’s had since the eighties. The wholeif it ain’t broke don’t fix itsentiment goes hard with him.

“Careful, old man. If you start back-talking me, I’ll haveto bring you in on account of burning all the brush in the back forty when it’s offseason.” I nod and raise my drink. Pop raises his hands in truce and grins.

“Seriously though, I’m proud of you, son,” he says, taking his tone from playful to mushy real quick.

“Thanks, Pop. Still might bring you in though.” I grin.

“My baby,” Mama says from across the table. “The youngest sheriff in the county’s history.”

Fucking hell.

“Aww, listen to all this sweetness.” Ginger grins, knowing it makes me uncomfortable when people center me like this.

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