Sheriff’s Secret Read online

  Me: Hmm, I’m kind of craving a burger.

  Jax: The only place that serves decent burgers is Red Hake Bowling Alley and only when Zak is scheduled to work.

  Since it’s a school day and he’s obviously not working, I guess burgers are out.

  Me: Shelly says you took her to a great place on the Boardwalk. I could go for some lobster chowder.

  Jax: Meet you there in twenty.

  I pocket my phone and then stand from my desk, stretching all my limbs. I’m eager to see Jax again. Last night, I left his place after he fell asleep. It’s easier than when I spend the whole night with him. I hate leaving, but he always has a panicked expression because he fears getting caught. It leaves a sourness in my stomach seeing the look on his face, so avoiding it altogether is what works best for me.

  Shelly is busy arguing with Hans about something. I give them a quick wave on my way out, only stopping to grab my coat and gloves along the way. As soon as I step outside and am hit with ice pellets, I groan. January in Brigs Ferry Bay is the equivalent to Hell. Fucking horrible.

  Cursing against the battering cold, I hit the fob on my car and run across the grass that’s dusted with snow, watching my step so I don’t slip and fall on my ass. When I make it to my vehicle, I stop to squint.

  “What the fuck?”

  I use my gloved hand to dust off the snow on the side of my car. Sure enough, someone keyed my goddamn car. Unbelievable.

  Faggot.

  How original.

  I pull my phone out and text a picture to Jax, telling him our lunch plans have changed to a date to see Leo at Blue Shark Auto Repair.

  Just how I wanted to spend my afternoon.

  “You’re right. The burgers were fucking terrible,” I complain as we climb back into Jax’s Tahoe.

  Since the bowling alley is across the street from the auto repair shop, I thought it made sense to eat the burgers, but now I know to trust Jax’s suggestions.

  “Zak doesn’t normally work the grill, but when I visit while on his shift, he always hops over there to make me a burger.” Jax’s smile falls as he glances my way. “You okay?”

  His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his brown eyes are soft. Dark lashes frame his soulful eyes. He wets his full pink lips with his tongue, making my dick twitch at the reminder from last night when he had them wrapped around my cock.

  “Yeah, I’m better than okay.” I drop my stare to his lips again. “You know how hard it is not to pull you across the console and kiss you right now?”

  He reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it. “Trust me. I know. It’s nearly fucking impossible.” Longing shimmers in his eyes. “Maybe one day.”

  “Maybe,” I say, placating him.

  We both know he’s nowhere close to that day. As much as I enjoy being with him, I’m worried that day just feels too far away. Maybe even an impossible day that won’t ever happen.

  I have fantastic luck in the boyfriend department.

  Not your boyfriend, idiot.

  “Dante—” Jax starts, his dark brows knitting together.

  His words are cut off by the ringing of my phone. It’s probably Leo from the shop giving me the estimate on the repairs. When I see the school’s name on my phone, a sliver of unease shoots through me.

  “It’s the school.” I swipe to answer. “Dante Kincaid.”

  “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Kincaid, but we need you to come up here.”

  I storm into the office, anger rippling from me. Not because I’m pissed at Callan, but because I’m pissed that this shit keeps happening to our family. I’m thankful Jax is with me because we’ll absolutely be filing a police report.

  “What happened?” I demand, ignoring Principal Hayworth to speak to Callan.

  His head is bowed, but the skin is split on his forehead and swollen as a giant goose egg forms there. It’s still oozing blood, though not much anymore. From the looks at the droplets on his hoodie, it was bleeding more earlier.

  “Callan,” I say in a calmer tone, squatting in front of him so I can see his face. “Talk to me.”

  Jax and Principal Hayworth speak in low tones behind me.

  “I’m fine,” Callan mutters, though the slight tremble of his bottom lip says otherwise.

  “Who did this to you?”

  He shrugs. “I’m not sure. I was standing in front of the urinal about to take a piss when someone rushed me from behind. They grabbed me by my hair and slammed my head against the wall. I woke up when some guys came into the bathroom and they helped me to the office.”

  I rise to my feet before swiveling around to face Principal Hayworth. “Who did this to him?”

  Principal Hayworth winces at my tone. “I’m not sure, but we’re investigating—”

  “Not good enough,” I roar, the anger and frustration from the past week coming to an ugly head. “You need to find the monsters who assaulted my little brother or I’ll find them for you!”

  Jax steps forward, grabbing my bicep and somehow injecting his calm into me. “Let me handle this. It’s my job.”

  And because I trust him, I bite back the nasty names I want to call the principal and nod, shooting Jax a pleading look.

  We have to find the fucker who did this.

  We have to.

  Jaxson

  Outraged doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel right now. I’m horrified that a town I thought I knew could be so cruel to two of the greatest guys I know. Sure, Dante was a hard pill to swallow at first, but once you get to know him, it’s easy to see what a nice, caring man he is. He’s done nothing to deserve this. And Callan? He’s just a fucking kid.

  I have to find out who’s doing this to the Kincaids.

  My gut tells me if I don’t get to the bottom of it, the incidents will only get worse. The very thought of someone physically harming Callan again makes me sick to my stomach.

  While Brandon makes a list of possible suspects for me to question, I glance over at Callan. He’s been busy texting the whole time we’ve been in Brandon’s office. Now that the rage has subsided, Dante is withdrawn. Quiet and sullen. I know he’s upset and I wish I could reach over to grab his hand.

  In this moment, I hate what a coward I am.

  Dante deserves someone who wouldn’t think twice about comforting him in his time of need. Had he not gotten involved with me, maybe he’d be dating someone by now. Someone like Cato. Cato wouldn’t have any qualms about sitting on Dante’s lap, kissing his forehead, and promising him everything will be okay.

  As much as Dante deserves that, I still hate the idea. The image of my best friend sitting in his lap sparks a hot fire of jealousy. I don’t want Dante to see anyone else. I want him to see me and only me. How selfish is that?

  The last bell for the day rings. Within minutes, my brother bursts into the office, his face red and screwed into a scowl.

  Much to my shock, he does exactly what I wanted to do for Dante. He leans down, grabs hold of Callan, and hugs him, softly vowing he’ll find whoever did this and hurt them.

  Finally, after we’ve exhausted all avenues and come up empty, we leave. Callan and Zak walk ahead of us, their voices low as they talk while Dante and I trail behind them.

  “Why don’t we pick up pizza and hang out at my place?” I say, stopping once we reach the Tahoe.

  Relief flashes in Dante’s hazel eyes. I may not have been able to comfort him in front of Brandon and the boys, but I’ll make sure I take good care of him as soon as we get home.

  “Yes,” Zak calls out. “The stuff we ordered for my apartment came in and Callan needs to tell me where to put it.”

  “If he doesn’t feel up to it,” I start, but Callan cuts me off with a laugh.

  “It’ll take a lot more than a bump on the head to keep me from fixing up Zak’s dumpy place,” Callan sasses.

  Dante chuckles and I flip Callan off for calling his place dumpy considering it’s technically my place. We pull into the pizzeria and I send the guys in wi
th some cash so I can make a call.

  “Hello?” Dad greets.

  My eyes tear away from Dante, who’s standing inside the pizzeria, clearly teasing the boys. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Not really.” I sigh heavily. “Dante Kincaid and his little brother Callan have been getting harassed. Thought I could get your help—”

  He laughs, dark and cruelly. “Probably brought it on themselves.”

  Ice shoots through my veins. “What?”

  “Come on, Jaxson. You’ve met the guy. He’s an arrogant dick. And from the feedback I’m getting, his brother isn’t any better.”

  My hand visibly shakes at his words. I have to fist it to get it to stop. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” I growl. “No one deserves to have homophobic shit vandalized on their property. Or worse yet, they don’t deserve to get physically attacked in the bathroom. He’s a kid, for fuck’s sake, Dad.”

  Silence.

  “Really?” I hiss. “And here I thought you were the perfect cop back in your day. Hell, I even thought, as mayor, you’d give a damn. But, most importantly, I thought you’d care because your fucking son cares. Forget I called. If you hear anything of use, you know my number.”

  I hang up and force in a few calming breaths. By the time I’ve relaxed, I discover Dante watching me through the restaurant window, his brows pinched together in concern and a pout on his sexy lips. All anger I felt moments before fades as I take in the handsome man in front of me. Dad can be an asshole about this. I should have never asked for his help. Whoever is responsible for the things happening to Dante and Callan will pay. I will discover who’s doing these attacks.

  “Everything okay?” Dante asks when they climb back into my vehicle, the air filling with the scent of garlic and cheese.

  “It is now.” I wink at him before pulling out of the parking lot.

  When we make it home, the boys don’t bother hanging with Dante and me, instead opting to take a pizza with them to Zak’s apartment. I set the other pizza box on the coffee table and fetch some plates while Dante finds us a couple of beers. We brush against each other in passing. I smile because it feels right and natural having him here in my kitchen with me.

  He belongs.

  My heart aches with the psychological torment. I want Dante in ways I’ve never wanted anyone before, not even Kian. Something about him calls to me. Keeping our relationship a secret is difficult because I crave to shout it from the rooftops.

  Which is fucking stupid considering we’ve only been seeing each other a little over a week. Yet, with Dante, every day spent with him feels like thirty. He knows secrets about me not many people do. And, better yet, he’s touched and kissed places no one else has.

  I sit beside him on the sofa and we both eat in pensive silence. It makes me wonder if he craves the same thing I do. He’d called his ex a few days ago, which I admit stung a little, but he’s been dedicated to me every day since.

  This is so much more than a fling to get these feelings out of my system. If anything, it makes the feelings grow more intense. Realization has begun to wash over me like a cold, spring rain, waking parts of me that have been in forced slumber for far too long. I want to latch onto those feelings and nurture them. To grow them and see how they blossom. Would I finally be living a life I actually wanted rather than this copycat version of my father’s?

  “You’re quiet,” I say once we’ve both set our plates down. “Are you okay?”

  Dante shrugs and tilts his head up at the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Leaning toward him, I press a kiss to the side of his neck.

  “Talk to me, baby,” I murmur, running my palm over his solid chest. “Please.”

  He groans at my touch, his hand covering mine, stopping my movement and keeping hold of me against his heart. “I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

  The finality and heartbreak in his words are a sucker punch to the gut. I don’t like how they make me feel—like he might disappear at any moment. After kicking off my shoes, I slide across his lap, straddling him so I can look at his face. His palms settle on my ass like he’s staking a claim on it. I run my fingers through his hair before pressing a kiss to his lips. He parts his lips and allows me to spoil him with worshipful kisses. Then, the Dante I know, grows greedy and his tongue duels with mine, eagerly tasting me like he needs it for sustenance.

  We kiss frantically for a few minutes. When we break for air, I lean my forehead against his so I can stare deep into his eyes.

  “Talk to me,” I urge. “You know you can tell me anything.”

  I pull back to give him some space while silently waiting for him to speak. After a long, frustrated sigh, he does.

  “I fucked up moving us here,” he blurts out, his words stabbing into me, sharp and painful. “I didn’t realize…” He closes his eyes. “I didn’t realize we’d be discriminated against for our sexuality.”

  I cup his scruffy cheeks with my palms, meeting his stare when he reopens his eyes. “You didn’t fuck up. You can’t blame these incidents on your decision to move here. That’s on the person or the people who are doing this.”

  “But Callan…” He drifts off. “Dad begged me to look after him like a son. I failed my father.”

  I shake my head in vehemence. “You failed no one, Dante. You’re the best man I know. Callan gives you a rough time, but you still do everything in your power to love him and give him the life he deserves. You’re a supportive, caring brother. Your dad would be proud, man.”

  His eyes water, so he closes them. I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him. He clings to me, his fingers gripping the back of my shirt tight.

  “Shower with me,” I murmur against his neck. “Let me take care of you.”

  “But our brothers—”

  “Don’t care about hanging out with us old people,” I joke, pulling back so I can see his handsome face. “You know we’ll have to drag Callan out of there when it’s time for you guys to leave.”

  A sly grin teases up one corner of Dante’s lips. “So I can make you shout my name as loud as I want then?”

  I nip at his bottom lip with my teeth. “I’ll be the one making you lose control when I’m deep inside you.”

  “Such a filthy sheriff.”

  “I learned all my deviant ways from a dirty B&B owner.”

  He laughs, smacking my ass over my jeans. “Hurry. I’ve had a really shitty day and I’m looking forward to you making it all better.”

  I climb off the couch and offer my hands to help him up. Hand in hand, I lead him to my bedroom, shutting the door behind us. Once in the privacy of my room, it’s a feral flurry of clothes being torn off until we’re both naked and our dicks desperately hard. Dante grabs the supplies while I get the shower started. By the time the steam has clouded the bathroom, we’re both practically dripping with need for each other.

  “Be good,” I tease. “I’m going to wash the bad day off you.”

  Dante smirks, his hazel eyes flashing in the wicked way I’ve grown to adore. I pick up the loofa and bodywash to begin cleansing him. His amused expression does things to me. Unusual things. My heart seems to skip a beat the longer I keep my eyes locked on his face. Warmth settles in my chest. Dark parts inside my mind feel lit up, no longer empty but occupied by Dante Kincaid.

  He’s too good to be true.

  A temptation I couldn’t ignore, even if I tried.

  His evil expression fades to a more serious one as he watches me wash him. A longing that matches mine glimmers in his hazel orbs. I cling to it as I get him soapy.

  Could I man up to be with someone like Dante?

  Drag a lifelong secret out of the shadows and shine a light on it?

  When I’m alone with him like this, I absolutely believe I can. I imagine myself telling everyone in town. Like in the movies, they’ll crowd around and cheer, congratulating the happy couple.

  Dante makes
me delusional.

  My life isn’t a movie.

  And this town? It’s already proved it isn’t completely supportive of gays. Though Cato and Kian seem to do okay, they still run into their own troubles. Mr. Clementine harasses Cato on the regular.

  No, instead of a cheering crowd, I’d be met with my father’s disgust. My mother’s disappointment. The people I serve and protect would side with my parents. I’d more likely be met with jeers and men like Ned and Paul who would suddenly think me incapable of doing my job simply because I like men rather than women.

  “Who’s having the bad day now?” Dante rumbles, drawing my attention to his lips and forgetting all the negative shit bouncing around in my head.

  “Sorry,” I murmur, stealing a kiss. “My mind’s a mess.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Let’s not think then. Let’s just feel.” I drop the loofa to rub my soapy palm around his thick cock. “What do you think?”

  “My dick’s a fan of just feeling. What about yours?”

  I groan when he grips me, stroking me just the way I like. Our lips hover over each other’s as we breathe heavily, delirious with the need to come.

  “Don’t promise me a good fucking only to jizz all over my hand,” Dante taunts. “I expected a good pounding by my favorite cop.”

  I pull away, grinning at him. “Hands on the wall, mister.”

  His smirk is devilish as he shakes his head.

  “Someone likes it rough?” I ask, my brow lifted in question.

  Gripping his shoulders, I roughly twist his body around as though he’s resisting arrest. I snag one of his wrists and plant his hand on the wall above his head before doing the same for the other hand. I rub my dick along his crack, pressing gentle kisses on his shoulder blade.

  “I have dreams about your body,” I admit. “Not dreams where we fuck. Just dreams where I spend hours admiring it. You’re beautiful, Dante. It’s hard to look away sometimes.”

  His body trembles as I slide my palms down his ribs. He hisses when I pinch both of his nipples. I twist them back and forth, loving how he squirms, before finally giving him relief.