Free Confessions of a Wild Heart by Kade Boehme Page A

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    Their university boasted one of Texas’s better basketball teams, a high-ranking teacher education program, and what many considered one of the state’s better medical programs and teaching hospitals.
    Feeling more alive between his earlier shower and getting his coffee, and slurping some down, Jase pulled into one of the parking spots designated for him and the other six deputies in their department. He walked in the back entrance with a bit of pep to his step, happy with the fact he was on time, had caffeine, had gotten a decent night’s sleep, and he’d be off for forty-eight hours in less than eight.
    “Mornin’, Deputy,” the sheriff said. Jase paused by the open office door, and waved at Sheriff Dean, who sat behind his desk, pen poised over papers in a manila folder.
    “Mornin’, sir.”
    “Big plans when you get off this afternoon?” Sheriff Dean had also served in the Army, finishing up his eight-year enlistment two years before Jase had enlisted. They were the only two in the department who’d served, other than Deputy Melissa Forrester, who’d done two years in the National Guard. It was one of the reasons the sheriff had offered him a job.
    Nepotism played a bit part of landing Jase his job if he was honest, as the sheriff and his daddy bought hay from the Emerys every year for the last thirty years. And that was in addition to the fact the Deans had been going to the same church as the Emerys since the beginning of time. He’d also written Jase often when he was in the Middle East, and Jase had appreciated that. Jase liked to think of the sheriff as a friend—maybe not a close one, but a friend—when he wasn’t just sir. “Yes, sir. Got a date with a fine bottle of Budweiser and a sexy sleigh bed for twelve uninterrupted hours of Cowboys football I’ve had DVRed since last weekend, and shut-eye.”
    “Sounds like a better date than mine,” the sheriff said.
    “I won’t tell Emily you said so,” Jase said, tipping his coffee in cheers.
    “I’d ‘preciate that.” The sheriff chuckled. “Holler if you need me. I’ve got some stuff to finish up here, then I’m off to shake babies and kiss hands.”
    “Don’t have too much fun, now.”
    Jase continued down the hall, chuckling to himself, eager to get on with the shift. He clocked in, hoping like hell there wouldn’t be any major disasters to keep him on longer than necessary, but enough work that wasn’t paperwork to make the day go by fast.
    “Mornin’, Jan.” Jase pecked a kiss to the cheek of their front desk deputy. She was old as the sheriff’s department, would proudly tell you she’d survived ten different sheriffs, and never left her chair, but she had a badge and a gun, and was still a damn good shot.
    “Mornin’, baby. No coffee for the class?” She eyed his Starbucks cup.
    “If I had, you’d have complained about me spending too much money. So hush.”
    “Don’t tell me to hush,” she said, swatting him. “So far, no dispatch calls. Miller dragged in a drunk earlier, but she’s still on the scene of the accident he caused. I left some messages on your desk. Looks like it’s gonna be a quiet one.”
    Jase groaned. “Damn. I was hoping it wouldn’t be a slow day.”
    “Welcome to the big city,” she deadpanned.
    Grumbling good-naturedly, Jase made his way to his desk, thumbing through the pink slips of paper with phone messages jotted on them. Nothing he had to take care of this early. He heard a raised voice in one of the closed offices and raised a brow at Jan who’d turned, shaking her head in exasperation.
    “That’s that damn drunk. He’s been going at it all morning.”
    “Who’s got him?”
    “Nate,” she said, a pleased, if unkind, grin on her face. There was no love lost between Jan and Deputy Nathan Hall. In fact, he was the only one she didn’t call his formal shift name, Deputy Hall. He was young and dumb and had questioned her in front of detainees on his first shift, for which