Page 48 of Moonshine Kiss
Normally, I’d be scrolling through a dating app or flipping through old case files. I was a deputy now, but that wasn’t the end of the road for me. Someday, I’d be sheriff. But I had to earn it. Not be handed it because of my last name. So, I studied those case files and I audited the occasional public administration class online. But that was just the beginning of the job. In Bootleg, the sheriff’s department was sewn right into the fabric of our little, weird society. Our job wasn’t only to police and protect, but to communicate and help, to educate and sometimes even entertain.
I followed in my father’s footsteps, taking an active interest in every single person in my town.
But today, I kind of wanted to be a regular human.
George snored from his perch on the windowsill in the dining room, and I whipped out my phone to record the adorableness.
I wondered if being a crazy cat lady would hinder me in my pursuit of the office of sheriff?
I heard a noise out the back and poked my head outside. Jonah was hauling a bag of trash to the bin Bowie kept along the back fence. Our yards were divided by a useless, hip-height fence that had seen better days.
Bowie had once suggested tearing it down and opening up the whole space to us both, but I preferred that physical barrier. Just like the door between our two halves. Barriers were essential when it came to dealing with the man that had broken my teenage heart.
“Howdy, neighbor,” I called out.
Jonah tipped his chin. “Hey, Cass. Got any trash that needs hauling?” he asked.
“Nope,” I called back.
Why couldn’t it be Jonah?I wondered. Why couldn’t that particular Bodine brother make my blood sing? He was a pleasant sort, easy on the eyes, too. And being a personal trainer, he’d keep my ass in shape. He already lived next door. Convenient for booty calls.
I considered the situation for a moment before remembering my recent decision to give up on the male gender entirely. Besides, did I really want to settle down with someone who would put me at the Bodine table every holiday? No siree. It was bad enough seeing Bowie in my parents’ kitchen every Thanksgiving.
“I’m headin’ over to the Pop In,” Jonah said, zipping up the vest he wore instead of a coat. “Need anything?”
The Pop In was the Bootleg Springs version of a gas station and general store. “Popcorn!” I’d have myself a cozy movie night tonight. MaybeDirty DancingorSixteen Candles. Or better yet, an action movie where nobody fell in love with anybody and they all still had a damn good time.
He gave me the thumbs-up. “On it. I’ll deliver.”
“Thanks, Jonah!”
I was still watching him, wondering why his denim-clad ass didn’t hypnotize me the way his roommate’s did, when the ass I was comparing it to walked out the back door.
“Hey,” Bowie said, from his side of the back porch.
“Hey,” I said back. He was wearing low-slung sweats and a long sleeve thermal shirt. He was tall, lean, a little scruffy, and every other damn thing that I liked in a man’s body.
Yep, I pretty much hated him in that moment.
I was a split second away from finishing up my ogling and making an excuse to go back inside when Sir Edmund Hillary decided it was a fine time for an adventure. The skinny little bastard streaked between my feet and dashed across the porch.
“No!” I yelled. It was winter, and the cats were new to me and my house. I hadn’t let them explore the backyard yet in fear that this exact thing would happen. “Eddie, come back!”
Barefoot, I took off after him, ignoring the icy concrete of the walk beneath the soles of my feet.
He stopped six feet ahead of me and blinked like he was gonna let me catch him.
Cautiously, I approached. The little bastard let me get within a foot of him, and when I swooped down to make my move, he skirted out of my range.
“Holy shit! When did you get a cat!” Bowie called from his side of the fence.
“When I gave up on men.”
Eddie changed course and ran straight for the fence.
“Stop!” I suddenly and viscerally empathized with every parent who ever put their child on a leash.
Eddie launched himself at the peeling wood. His little feet scrambled for purchase and then he was up and over.
