Deadly Devotion (Soulscape #4)

Chapter 7

"Sheriff?"

Fingers snapped in front of his face, and Dennis blinked. "Huh?"

"You still with us?" Marcy laughed softly and brushed a sable strand behind her ear. She had a lighthearted laugh that was pleasing to the ears. She was a pretty twenty-five-year-old divorcee with twin eight-year-old girls who were the jewel of her eye. Marcy was the conquest of not just one young man in Coldbrook, but the young woman remained gun-shy following her husband's departure, which hadn't been a mutual nor pleasant parting.

Dennis cleared his throat and smiled. "Yeah. Sorry. Mind started to drift." He chuckled low. "Is that a sign of old age?"

"I hope not," Marcy laughed. "My mind wanders all the time."

Dennis winked. "Well, that certainly makes me feel better." Some days he felt much older than his thirty-seven years. Today, though...he was leaning in the other direction. Maybe a little too much. He had tried his damnedest to ward off an attraction to Frank Harlan, but the man was just too damn likable. And helping him fix his bed hadn't helped the matter one iota. His "like" of the man had presented itself south of the border, and with much too much positive energy. Or perhaps negative. It didn't bode well with Dennis Hawkins to find himself daydreaming about someone else's man. That wasn't his style. Those were boundaries he had never crossed in his life—and he didn't intend to now.

Admit it, Dennis ole boy, the doctor wasn't the only one who had your jeans steaming.

"Sir?"

Warmth invaded Dennis' face, and he chased away the troubling—if not somewhat stimulating—thoughts. "Sorry," he apologized again, feeling foolish. "Maybe I need a vacation."

Marcy smiled. "Maybe," she said as mischievous tone seeped into her voice. "Or maybe you just need a date."

A funny tickle quivered through Dennis' gut. "You think a date is going to cure my wandering mind?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Oh why—and where—your mind is wandering." She gazed at him knowingly. The woman was eerily intuitive.

Dennis chuckled and averted his eyes. "I think my dating days are behind me. And even if they weren't, I'd have to go elsewhere to find some company and..." he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "That's just too much effort."

"Well, I would offer to take you out on the town...what there is of it," she laughed lightly. "But I don't think I could help you with what you really need." She winked teasingly.

Dennis was fairly certain that Marcy was probably the only one in Coldbrook that knew his preferences. He hadn't told her; she was just smart enough to figure it out for herself. He often wondered if others saw it, too, and simply didn't want to believe it because they couldn't handle the idea of their Sheriff being one of those people. The other day out at Frank and Zeke's place wasn't the first time Randall had made implications of that nature. Whether he actually believed it or not, Dennis couldn't be sure.

"I don't need that," he murmured with a smile, suddenly feeling weary. "I think that is behind me as well."

Marcy smiled smartly and stepped toward the door of his office. "Well, it would be behind you if you'd put yourself out there." She laughed and slipped out before he could toss something at her.

He didn't know why that such a conversation with Marcy didn't embarrass him. Maybe because she was the only one who openly knew his likes. It was a relief, though, having someone in his life that he could truly be himself with. Until he'd met Frank and Zeke, Marcy had been the only one he'd felt that comfortable around. He hadn't admitted his preferences to the two men, but somehow Zeke—at least—seemed to pick up on it.