When Sheriff Thomas Day entered the café for his morning coffee, Zoe was working behind the counter. He’d been coming by regularly, but then again, many people came by regularly. She knew he was single, everyone knew. He always had something pleasant to say but nothing personal. It had been two weeks since he’d danced with her at Josh’s wedding reception.
She liked his wavy black hair, strong angular face, and his cool brown eyes which warmed quickly when he smiled. She wondered if his lips were as firm as they looked or if they softened when he kissed, what his hands would feel like on her skin, what his skin would feel like to her touch? She wondered a lot . . . about Thomas Day.
He sure looks handsome in his crisp uniform, she thought, feeling fluids inside her start to ebb and flow. Taking a deep breath, she took in the scent of him, the cloud of fragrances hovering about him—soap, aftershave, his strong male scent.
“Mornin’, Zoe,” Tom said, as he sat at the counter. “The usual, please. Your muffins make my day. They’re like a taste of sunshine, warming my cold soul, somethin’ special, and just as sweet as you. Care to share your culinary secret with me?”
“Taste and smell, Tom,” she said, pouring his coffee. “If I told you more than that, you’d have to marry me—a family secret you know. Pick your muffin.”
“Guess I’ll pass on the marriage for now, but I’ll sure keep it in mind. How’re you doing this morning?” he asked, smiling from his eyes.
“Doin’ just fine, Tom,” she replied, smiling from her heart.
“Have you heard about Wednesday’s drug bust, a lot of excitement for this little town?”
“Yes, I heard something about a drug bust. Can you talk about it or is it still in the investigative stages?”
“Well, there’s not too much to investigate. The DEA informed me that the deaths were the result of an ongoing turf war. A Mexican drug cartel was setting up a distribution center in this area and had purchased a large ranch near Arboles. Ranger from the Wolf Creek was somehow involved. We found his body at the scene but he hadn’t been shot. He’d been attacked by a wolf.”
“Oh my goodness, how terrible. A wolf, you say. Are there many wolf attacks in this area?” she asked.
“No, which makes it particularly strange. Quite a mystery.”
Zoe continued working behind the counter while she listened to him talk. She thought to herself, nothing ventured, nothing gained and decided it was time to step up to the plate.
“Tom, would you mind if I asked you a personal question? And please, don’t feel you need to answer if you’d rather not.”
“Okay . . . ask,” he said, as he took a sip of coffee.
“I know you’re single. Do you date?” she asked, feeling a flush come to her cheeks.
“Sometimes. That wasn’t too personal,” he said, taking a bite of his muffin.
“Do you have one special woman you’re currently dating?” she asked, putting her hands in her pockets to keep them from shaking.
“No, and that is getting personal. Why are you asking, Zoe?” he asked, trying not to smile.
She could feel the upsurge of flush in her cheeks as she looked into his warm dark eyes. “I was just wondering why an attractive man like yourself isn’t married or doesn’t have a steady woman?”
“Now, that is very personal, and I don’t think I’ll answer that question. Is that the only reason why you’re asking?” he said, raising one eyebrow while drinking his coffee. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re interested in dating me?”
Zoe broke eye contact, looked down at the floor, and didn’t know where to go with this except straight ahead. “Yes, I guess I am, Tom. This may be very forward of me but I am attracted to you. Since I met you at Josh’s reception, you’ve been coming in every day for coffee. Is it just the coffee and my muffins or are you a little interested in me, too?”
He was thoroughly enjoying her flustered state—the color rising in her cheeks, the hesitant look in her misty blue eyes, the curly blonde hair helter-skelter around her elfish face.
“Well, that’s a very direct question and deserves a direct answer. Can we step back into your kitchen for a moment?” he asked, as he put the service bell on the counter.
Getting up from the counter, leaving his coffee and muffin unfinished, he took Zoe’s hand and led her back into the kitchen. When he turned, he slowly slid his hands around her waist, ran them up her back, drawing her up and into him. His dark eyes stayed open as he brought his mouth down to cover hers, pressing softly, and then taking the kiss deeper. As his tongue slipped between her lips, the tastes and smells of him swamped her senses, drowning rational thought in a primordial brew, dissolving all obstacles in its path, igniting incipient amatory desires. As she trembled and shook in his arms, experiencing a sexual seizure, her electrical circuits shorted, shutting down her brain.
When Tom realized the little elf in his arms had become a rag doll, he picked Zoe up and sat her in a chair near the sink to revive her, placing a cool compress on her forehead.
Unbelievable, he thought. She passed out during a kiss. I’m not sure where to go with this . . . maybe dinner, which probably would end up in bed. It’s been over a year since Lilith, the Princess from Hell, left me for dead. Strange how just her name can stir and stoke those burning embers of anger. Am I ready for a woman in my life? Any woman? Am I capable of having sex? I don’t know.
When Zoe finally came around, Tom was standing beside her, holding the compress to her head. All she could think as she took deep breaths—inhaling more of his scent, more of him—was that she wanted this man. She had never experienced such a sensation, didn’t care about anything else, just wanted to touch him.