Free Anticipation by Patrice Michelle Page B

that early or not,” he shot back before he closed the cell phone with a determined snap.
    “You have to go.”
    Deidre’s sleepy voice drew his attention. She looked so sexy sitting up on her elbow, her tangled, wavy blonde hair framing her face. Understanding reflected in her green gaze as she held the sheet around her breasts and stared at him intently.
    Jonas nodded while pulling on his underwear. “We’re chasing down a lead in yesterday’s fire.”
    Deidre sat up, her expression alert. “I hope you find who did this. I really don’t want to leave my parents behind with someone still lurking out there who’s elevated his pranks to deadly activities.”
    Jonas’ heart constricted at her casual mention of leaving. “Your parents will be back today?” Damn, he’d been so caught up in Deidre, he’d lost track of time.
    She nodded.
    Mixed emotions shifted within him like a sandcastle being eaten by the ebb and flow of an inevitable incoming tide. While he shrugged into his jeans and shirt, his gut told him to ask her to stay, but old wounds kept the words locked deep inside.
    Setting his jaw, he gave her a curt nod. “I’ll have a report to them by the end of the day.”
    A half smile curved her lips. Sexual tension and unspoken words flowed between them while they stared at each other for several seconds.
    She tilted her head as if she sensed the internal battle going on in his head. “You’d better get going.”
    Snapping to attention, Jonas squared his shoulders and pulled on his socks before stepping into his boots. He turned to go, but cast his gaze back her way. Before he could speak, she made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go.”
    Jonas grabbed his Stetson from the dresser and set it firmly on his head. As he walked out of the room, she called after him, “The sheriff always gets his man.”
    And his woman, he finished mentally. As he made his way out of the house, a broad smile spread across his face. And it felt damn good.
     
    * * *
     
    “Can you believe he’s up at this hour?” Jeff sounded surprised as Jonas drove down the Blackstones’ asphalt drive toward the bed and breakfast ranch house.
    Chaz Blackstone tugged his baggy jeans back up his lanky form as he stood up from a crouched position at the edge of the drive. He dipped his paintbrush into a can of white paint then applied a new coat to one of the wrought iron spindles on the fence that curved in a semicircle around the entrance to the B&B.
    When Jonas turned into the drive, Chaz glanced their way. Adjusting his navy blue baseball hat, he squinted against the bright morning sun.
    Once he turned off the car engine, Jonas handed Jeff the folder that was on the seat between them and got out of the car.
    “Mornin’, Sheriff.” Chaz touched his hat’s bill and stared at his visitors, paintbrush paused in midair next to the fence. “My parents are inside preparing the morning meal for their guests.”
    “Being punished?” Jonas asked as he glanced at the gallon can of paint next to Chaz’s tennis shoes. While his gaze was averted, he surreptitiously examined the teenager’s athletic shoes. Sure enough, they matched the picture of the brand the Kick Footwear’s manager said was in high demand with the lifetime warranty.
    “Nah, just making the place look nice.” Chaz returned to his work, swiping his brush along the thin wrought-iron post.
    Jonas caught Jeff’s nod toward Chaz’s shoes. He raised his eyebrow to let the deputy know he saw them. Now, to get the kid to willingly show him the bottom of his right shoe. “You been working hard around here this weekend?”
    Chaz paused his brush strokes for a second. “Yeah, helping my parents with the upkeep,” he commented before he bent and wiped more paint on his brush from the can.
    A few drops of white paint landed on the black asphalt as he returned the brush to the fence, giving Jonas an idea.
    He stepped right beside Chaz and kicked the nearly full can of paint as he