Page 320 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

And now she had no choice but to walk right through it too, this colossal, horribly embarrassing mess she’d just made.

“How bad is it?” Jeff asked, trying to get a better look at her ankle. There might have been a tinge of concern in his tone, but if there was, she couldn’t see so much as a hint of it behind his sunglasses. Which was probably the best thing for both of them. She already wanted to punch him in the face. She didn’t need any more temptation.

“Leave me alone.” She limped away from him, desperately wishing a hole would open up right here and just swallow her off the earth. She was so done with this. She was done with the shopping, she was done with the small town, and she was more than done with the sheriff who seemed put in her way just to make this all as hard as he possibly could.

People were coming into the aisle, investigating the noise and the god-awful mess she’d made. She couldn’t limp away from it fast enough, and yet the entire floor in front of her was a lake of conjoined Asian oils and sauces, broken glass and the second she stepped in it, she just knew she was going to go down on her ass again. She was going to have to walk back to the hotel covered in that stuff, in the only pair of real clothes she had.

She started into the lake, and this time when the sheriff grabbed her arm, she didn’t pull away.

“Be careful,” he cautioned.

Her foot slipped out from under her, and to her surprise, his arm slung around her waist, hugging her securely tight up against his side. She’d have thought he’d be more than happy to drop her and make her humiliation complete, but no. He arrested her fall. His body was hard as only muscle built upon muscle could be. He felt warm, for just a second he even felt comforting, and his cologne was enough to make her panties melt.

She yanked her wayward libido back under swift control. She hadn’t made the best life choices, obviously, but nor was she about to let herself be drawn to a man who’d done nothing but harass her since they’d met.

Not that she wanted to fall, either.

She let him hold onto her as together they navigated the minor lake of spilled sauces, but just as soon as they were through it and she’d scuffed the worst of the stuff off the bottom of her shoes, she said stiffly, “You can let go now.”

He did, albeit slowly. As if making sure she was steady first.

“Are you okay?” he asked, taking a proper step back.

He was still too close. He was too tall, too, and the very size of him seemed to be heating the air between them. His cologne was still in her nose, tainting her angry breaths.

“Fine,” she said, clipped and short. “I’ll be even better if I never see you again.”

Drawn by the sounds of the crash, an elderly couple had ventured into the aisle behind them. Directly in front of her, a store employee was hurrying to meet them with two bright yellow caution signs.

“That stupid shelf,” she declared. “I thought we got it fixed.” She tsked. “Come on, honey. Do you want the key to the ladies’ room so you can clean up?”

“No.” Her temper mollifying against her will, she shook her head. “I just want to check out.”

“I’ll help you, hun. Right this way.”

Casting the sheriff a grudging scowl, she steered her cart for the checkout. Already her ankle was starting to feel better, that sting of momentary pain already fading away to nothing by the time she got there.

She unpacked her peanut butter, her apples, and Ramen from the cart, loading them onto the conveyor belt. How far was it again to the little Bates motel that she’d been sent to? She had no idea; a mile? God, how was she ever going to carry this all? She had five cases of ramen.

“That’s $34.38,” the clerk cheerfully announced.

…and only fourteen dollars to pay for it all. Sighing, she reached for her back pocket and the pink plastic wallet she’d stuffed into it after her fiasco with that damn ticket. Ready or not, she was about to find out if her dad had shut off her credit cards.

Except, her wallet wasn’t there. Tabitha paused, feeling nothing but denim under her hand. Flat denim, with her butt cheek underneath.

She patted her front pockets, her back ones, and even checked the floor around her cart. Shit. It was gone. Somewhere between here and where she’d showed her stuff to the sheriff, she’d lost it.

She looked up at the clerk and her expression must have said it all.

“Don’t have your wallet?” the kind lady asked.

“I’ll pay for it,” the sheriff said from behind her, because of course he was behind her. Where else would he be?

“No, you don’t!” Tabitha snapped, turning on him angrily. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Leave me alone!”

“Hey now, hold on,” he censured.

“I’ll bet it’s on the floor under all that mess,” the clerk offered, her smile turning into a cringe as she glanced back and forth between them. “I’ll just set your groceries aside and you can come back for them when you’re ready.”

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