Page 45 of Holding on to Chaos
“I’m sheriff. I have a responsibility to these people,” he argued. The worry that he’d let everyone down circled through his gut. First, he’d dropped the ball with Jax’s hunt for the kids’ mom, and now he’d slept God knows how many hours while the town ran amuck.
“What is this?” Eva asked. Since he refused to lay back down, she slid into his lap. “What’s going on right now? You look like you’re panicking.”
“It’s not panic.”It totally was panic.He’d let people down, people who were counting on him.
“Take a breath and text Colby or Layla. Check in. Make sure all is well.” She handed him his phone and stayed put in his lap.
Grudgingly, he did as he was told and fired off a text demanding a status update from his deputies. He was scanning the room for his shoes when Colby responded.
Colby: Relax, boss. All is well. A relatively quiet night for the apocalypse.
Layla was more succinct.
Layla: Leave us alone. See you at 8.
Eva read the texts as they came in and smiled smugly. “Care to start the morning over, Sheriff Crabby Pants?”
A hot wave of relief coursed through him. He hadn’t let the entire town down, and he had a beautiful woman on his lap. He didn’t need any more coaxing than that. He lay back down, letting Eva sprawl out on top of him.
“Good morning,” he whispered, brushing a curl back from her face.
“Mmm, morning. Did you sleep well? I couldn’t get you upstairs, so I figured the couch would have to do.”
“This is good. Really good,” he said, brushing a kiss over her hair. “And you stayed with me, which is even better.”
She smiled shyly. “I hope you don’t mind. But I didn’t want you sneaking out in the middle of the night, second-guessing your deputies.”
“You were babysitting me.” The irony of Eva being responsible for him had Donovan shaking his head.
“Did the alarm go off yet?” Eva yawned as she snuggled closer.
“Not that I heard.”
“It’s not even seven yet. That means you get breakfast.”
“This morning keeps getting better and better.”
She moved over his rigid length. “I’ll say.”
He pinched her and made her laugh.
“We’re doing this whole relationship backwards,” he lamented.
“We’ll get it figured out,” Eva promised. She buried her face into his neck and breathed in. “You know, I’ve never had a platonic sleepover before.”
“How much time do I have to make it un-platonic?” He groaned. “Scratch that. We’re taking things slow.” He just wished he could relay that message to his cock, which wasn’t interested in slow.
“Glacier-like,” Eva reminded him. Reluctantly, she sat up. “You go shower, and I’ll start breakfast.”
She directed him upstairs, and he performed some acrobatics to get himself under the showerhead that had to have been designed for dolls. After a shower with rose-scented shampoo, he felt better than he had in days. He had energy. His brain was fired up.
He’d cull out some time today to run follow-ups with the locals on Sheila Flinchy so Jax had more to give his P.I. Then he could make his rounds starting around the park and make sure peace was upheld. With some luck, he could get a head start on the tidal wave of paperwork that was swamping his desk before lunch. In the afternoon, he’d put his head together with Beckett and figure out what the hell they were going to do security-wise for the Halloween Carnival, the apex of the planetary bullshit.
He could use a shave, Donovan thought, staring in the mirror swiping a hand over the crop of stubble that had turned into the early stages of a beard. A shave and a haircut. Maybe he could squeeze a stop in at the Snip Shack tonight and take care of both and catch wind of any gossip that might need police attention.
With no spare toothbrush, he used Eva’s pink one and wondered how long he’d have to wait before he woke up next to her again.
When he returned downstairs, the smell of bacon and coffee were thick in the air.
