Read The Sheriff and the Mayor Online
Authors: Starla Kaye
The Sheriff and the Mayor (3 page)
Dalton
opened the door for her and she quickly climbed inside. “Getting anxious,
darlin’?”
She
tossed him a look that more or less said “duh,” then concentrated on fastening
her seatbelt.
Seconds
later he slid into the driver’s seat. She stared straight ahead, at nothing.
Anything but glance over at him. “It really was a good turn out tonight.” When
she was nervous, she made idle conversation. “I’m glad we decided to go, even
if only for part of the evening.”
He
turned the engine on and then put his right hand on her thigh, making her jerk
and glance down. She immediately thought about how that same hand would soon be
landing repeatedly on her bottom. She wished he would pull it away, just focus
on driving. Again, she remembered how good the evening had started.
This
was bad.
His
fingers lightly squeezed her leg. “You know that I don’t want to spank you. But
you decided to go against a promise you made me. You didn’t even discuss it
with me first.”
Tingles
shot all the way through her body from his hand. She didn’t want to be spanked
like a disobedient child. She didn’t want to be turned over his knee, have her
bottom bared, and have him light a fire that she would feel long into the
evening.
She
would rather… Well,
that
wasn’t going to happen!
“I
was really disappointed in you.” He finally removed his hand and backed out of
the parking place.
She
breathed easier, felt more confident. “I’m really good at being mayor,” she
stated quietly, then wondered why she had said that. It might be true, but this
wasn’t the time to talk about it.
As
he turned onto the street, Dalton glanced at her. Lines of strain creased his
forehead. “Yes, I know. And I’ve always supported you, haven’t I?”
She shifted
on the seat. “Yes.” He had. She could never deny that.
“I’ve
been very patient with you…as you’ve been patient with me and my dual
responsibilities of ranching and being temporary Sheriff.”
His
hands tightened on the steering wheel. “But we’ve been talking about this
subject for the last six months. How it’s time we made some changes in our
lives.”
They
had, which was why he was so disappointed in her now. “Yes.”
He
wanted a lasting commitment from her –marriage and kids. But it was still scary
to her. She couldn’t help it.
Her
stomach tightened, tears once more threatened. “Is this…is this an ‘or else’
thing?” she asked in a near whisper.
It
took him a minute to answer. His jaw tightened first. “You know I love you,
Cassie.”
He
didn’t say it, but she was certain he wanted to add “but…” Her heart wrenched.
“I
love you, too, Dalton. Really.”
Again
he grew quiet. Again she felt sick at the problems between them, ones that
she’d caused.
Dalton
finally sighed and changed the subject. “Too bad this won’t be one of our
fun
spankings.”
At
the mention of
fun spankings
, heat swirled low in her body. When he
spanked her in foreplay, it was an amazing experience. Being so vulnerable over
his lap, offering herself to him. The feel of his big, calloused hand touching
her sensitive skin was indescribable. He would slowly light a fire, and as soon
as it sizzled, he took her with all the passion inside him. Sometimes he put
her on her back and drove into her more than willing body like a crazed man.
Sometimes he put her on her hands and knees and took her from behind.
She
shivered at the treasured memories. Once more thinking about what had happened
in the kitchen earlier.
But
this wouldn’t be that kind of experience. There would be no teasing pats, no
playful stroking between her legs. He would build a fire that would end with
her having a very sore backside. He would ruin the evening for her, for them
both.
Again,
her spirit returned. She was more than a little irritated at what was coming.
“I
bet Jim doesn’t spank Rachel. I’m probably the only adult woman in Grangeville
that gets her ass spanked.”
She
glowered at him, caught up in her pouty moment. “What would people think if
they knew their sheriff disciplined his lover? Knew that
their mayor
got
her butt burned?”
To
her surprise, he pulled to the side of the road. When he looked in her
direction, she could see his carefully controlled temper. “Do you really want
to push my buttons now? Get all pissy?”
She
worried her lower lip and wished she could take her outburst back. He was a
good man, one of the best, even if he was a strong dominant who believed in
discipline. Other than suffering some immediate pain, she really didn’t mind.
“Two
swats. Now.”
The
look in his eye warned her he was serious. He’d spanked her once before in his
truck when they’d been going to the ranch and she’d said something she shouldn’t
have. Oddly, it had also aroused her, that spontaneous spanking where someone
else might happen by and see them. It was that stolen piece of forbidden candy
kind of thing, that secret naughtiness. Of course, it had also hurt because
he’d been upset at the time.
Her
heart raced and she looked around, finding they were near the end of Main
Street, not far from her home. The spattering of houses here were set back far
from the road and all of them were darkened. She’d seen these particular owners
at the community meeting. They were basically alone.
Still,
she asked warily, “We’re almost home. Couldn’t you—”
“Show
me your butt. Now.” He reached over to unlock his seatbelt and then hers.
“Unless you want me to get out, come around to your side, and give you a lot
more than two swats.”
Cassie
knew when to cut her losses. Face heating, she shifted until she was looking
the door and then leaned awkwardly over so that her bottom was facing him. At
least she had on a denim skirt.
The
skirt didn’t matter at all. He simply flipped it up. Then he reached by her and
opened the glove box to pull out a hard-backed hairbrush.
She
promptly sucked in a breath of anticipation. She’d meant to throw that awful
thing away.
Two
biting smacks later she definitely regretted riling him even more. Those swats probably
could have been heard clear back at the community center.
He
put the brush away, still quiet and tense.
She pulled
her skirt back down and settled gingerly onto the seat.
He
reached over to help her re-fasten her seatbelt. For just a second, he squeezed
her hand and she felt his love. Before he turned away again, he said, “You’re
wrong about Jim and Rachel, although you certainly don’t need to tell her I
told you so. He does spank her on occasion.”
Okay,
TMI. Cassie really didn’t want to know that. It was somehow better when she
thought she was the
only
woman in town to get punished like that. She
nodded in acknowledgment and he once more focused on driving them home.
The
short distance remaining passed all too quickly. They pulled into the garage
too soon. She climbed out of the truck and made her way in front of him into
the house, wishing she could go on up to the bedroom and lock him out. But she
would never do either: not rush away and avoid a punishment and not lock him
out of her room.
Dalton
flicked on the lights as they moved through the kitchen and into the great
room.
“Are
you sure this is necessary?” she asked, watching him sit in the middle of the
over-stuffed red plaid sofa.
“Did
you promise me one thing and then go against it?”
“Yes…
But…”
He
raised one thick eyebrow; a vein pulsed in his neck. “Enough said, Cassie
Anne.”
With
a huff she slid into position over his knee, rather than have him tug her over
it. He’d sat back far enough that she could stretch out her arms and legs on
the cushions. This always meant she was going to get more than a few brisk
swats. He liked her semi-comfortable when he intended to give a memorable
spanking.
Drat,
and double drat!
He
didn’t speak again as he pushed her skirt over her back and tugged down her
panties to mid thigh. She tensed as he smoothed his hand over her cool skin.
She shivered and her body became foolishly aware of her nearness to the man she
loved, even in this vulnerable position. It always annoyed her to struggle with
desire in these first seconds before he got down to serious business.
“Can
you just get on with it?” she asked, hearing the frustration in her voice.
“Maybe
you need some time in the corner first. Time to think about
why
I’m
about to burn your butt.” He caressed her bottom again.
Her
butt cheeks quivered in response, which annoyed her. She hated corner time and
he knew it. “I totally understand why you’re going to roast my bottom. Just do
it!”
The
smack! He sent down had her gasping and kicking her legs up. “Is that what you
wanted?”
Cassie
craned her head around, blowing her long hair out of her face. “Of course not!
I don’t want to be spanked at all. But I’m going to be and I know it. I’m
accepting it…so, please, get on with it.”
“As
you wish.” He held her firmly in place with a hand to her back, tucked her
close to his body. “You’re going to really think before you go against giving
your word to me next time.” He began peppering her bottom, making her squirm
and hiss almost immediately.
“I’m
sorry,” she gasped after about the hundredth blazing smack, at least that’s
what it felt like. “I’m sorry!”
He
went right on expressing his irritation with her. “This little bottom is going
to be so red, so hot.”
She
wriggled back and forth, side to side. “Please, Dalton,” she begged, struggling
to keep from shoving off his lap.
The
swats became lighter, although her bottom already hurt so much it didn’t make
much difference. She was sobbing, kicking her legs, and pounding her feet
against the sofa. ‘I’ll…I’ll tell everyone…I’ve changed my mind.”
“You
will not
!” He planted a sharp half dozen smacks to the sit-down spot on
her buttocks. “You will run in the election against Jim.”
He
settled his hand on her throbbing bottom. “And if you win, you will fulfill
your new term. A person should stand behind their word, their promise.”
“But
I gave my word to you and…” She groaned in misery fully understanding how badly
she’d hurt him. Far more than he’d hurt her with this spanking.
He
stood her up in front of him. The denim rubbing over her sore bottom had her
pulling the skirt off and then fighting not to reach back and cover her ass
with her hands. “I’m so sorry, Dalton.”
His
eyes mirrored sadness at the situation. He blew out a breath. “Go on up to bed.
I need to check messages and do some thinking.”
She
winced and picked up her skirt. As she dashed at her tears and started out of
the room, she stopped to look back at him. His shoulders were slumped and she
felt worse. She’d really let him down. It took all of her courage to ask
warily, “You don’t want me to go to the ranch with you tomorrow, do you?”
He
was quiet a second and finally shook his head. “I’ll be spending most of the
weekend mending fences with my brothers and then moving the herd.”
He
held her gaze. “I think we need a couple of days apart.”
She
couldn’t answer him, couldn’t tell him that wasn’t what
she
wanted. But
it made her heart pinch in pain to nod and hurry out of the room. If he needed
space from her, she’d have to accept that.
Lemon
yellow paint spotted Cassie’s braided hair, her face, her arms and the old
over-sized shirt, even a big part of her cut-off jean shorts. She was an
extremely neat painter in her workshop, but when she painted rooms, not so
much. She’d woken up before dawn feeling out of sorts. Generally speaking,
everything in her life at the moment made her unhappy. Dalton had warmed her
bottom and sent her on up to bed. Then instead of coming to bed with her after
checking his messages and “thinking,” he’d stopped by to tell her good-bye and
that he was heading back to his ranch.
She grumbled
something definitely unladylike and took another swipe with a dripping paint
roller on the last unpainted wall in her bedroom. Drops plopped onto the
plastic covering the carpet just missing her bare feet. She didn’t care. She
was annoyed with the man in her life. He hadn’t even kissed her before he’d
left—or hugged her.
Well,
fine! I don’t need a bunch of touchy-feely stuff from a big, grumpy cowboy
anyway!
She
turned back to the small table holding the roller tray of paint at the same
time the doorbell rang. A wave of disappointment washed over her.
Not Dalton
.
He wouldn’t ring the doorbell. He would simply use his key and come in, then call
out to her as he’d done a hundred times before.
The
bell rang again. Ignoring whoever was at the front door seemed like a good
idea.
But
the bell sounded once more, echoing through the house. Even in a sour mood she
couldn’t be rude. She hadn’t been raised that way.
Resigned
to having a visitor, she yelled, “I’m coming!”
She
stopped at the uncovered window nearby and looked out at the front yard.
Rachel’s midnight blue mini-van sat in her driveway behind Cassie’s car that
she’d failed to put in the detached garage yesterday. Her friend wouldn’t give
up easily.
A
minute later when she resignedly pulled the front door open, Rachel was about
to push the doorbell again. She gaped at the sight of Cassie, amusement dancing
in her blue eyes. She tugged the glass screen door open. “Are you actually
getting any paint on the walls?”
Rolling
her eyes, Cassie stepped back and chose not to answer the question. “What
brings you here so bright and early on a Saturday morning? Isn’t this supposed
to be family time?”
“Today
it’s father-sons bonding time. Jim and the boys are headed out to the lake for
a delightful day of fishing. Something I’m lucky enough to miss out on.”
She
held out a bakery box. “I drove by earlier and noticed Dalton’s truck was gone
and that your car was in the driveway. So I picked up our favorite donuts. I
thought I’d see if you had the time to share them and some coffee with me.”
Cassie’s
stomach rumbled and she took the box, turning to head for the kitchen. “I’ll
warn you now that I’m in a pissy mood.” She drew in the scent of chocolate, a
smile beginning in spite of her depression. “This ought to cheer me up.
Chocolate has a way of curing all…at least for me.” And she needed that this
morning.
“Pissy
mood?” Rachel moved by her, headed straight for the cupboard above the coffee
pot and pulled out two ceramic mugs. “Did you and Dalton have words or
something after you left the party? He seemed upset.” She hesitated. “Is that
why you’re here and not out at the ranch today?”
Cassie
set the white box on the counter and opened it to find two chocolate éclairs
and two fat crullers. “I really shouldn’t have one.” She snagged an éclair and
almost felt the extra pounds adding to her waistline. “So I’ll have one of
each. I’m weak.”
Before
she could take the first decadent bite, Rachel pressed, “Dalton? You? A problem?”
With
a curt nod, Cassie took a bite. A tiny moan of ecstasy escaped as she closed
her eyes in bliss. She didn’t want to talk about their problem, or even think
about it.
But
Rachel didn’t give up easily. “He’s upset with you running for mayor again,
isn’t he?” She stepped closer with two cups of steaming coffee.
Reluctantly
Cassie licked frosting off her lips and glanced at the slightly older woman,
who looked perfectly groomed as always. She had two pretty wild boys, yet she
never appeared stressed, never looked frazzled with even a hair out of place. Cassie,
however….
Rachel
stood quietly, waiting patiently for an answer.
Cassie
weakened and admitted, “He had something else in mind.”
“Like
getting married? Like you both living in one place, at the ranch?” Rachel
picked up a cruller and took a bite, looking pointedly at Cassie.
Her
stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies. “Exactly, but I’m not ready,” she
answered quietly. “I want to be.”
She
had strong feelings for him. Okay, she loved him. But the idea of getting
married again still terrified her. She knew it was stupid.
“I
may end up losing him.” Just saying the words had a painful lump forming in her
throat.
Rachel
put her partially eaten cruller back in the box and moved to hug Cassie. “Oh,
sweetie.”
Cassie
stepped out of reach. “No, I’m a mess.”
No
longer hungry, she set her éclair in the box, too. She didn’t want a hug
either; she was too fragile right now.
“Dalton
Reede loves you. You know it. Everyone who has ever seen the two of you together
knows it.” Rachel leaned against the counter, grimness in her expression. “You
have
to
let it go. He is
nothing
like your ex. He’s a good man.”
Even
though she had only told Rachel parts of the horror she’d lived with, her
friend understood enough to get the overall idea of what a horrible man Will
Davis had been. No, Dalton was not at all like him. She knew that, yet….
“He’s
divorced, too. So he isn’t perfect.” That was a lame excuse for her troubled
feelings.
Rachel
glowered indignantly at her and went into lecture mode. “Don’t you go thinking Dalton
did something wrong in his first marriage! I happen to know he did everything
he could to make it work. He even insisted on trying marriage counseling, which
she resisted.”
She
heaved a deep breath of frustration. “Poor Dalton even moved away from the
ranch for a year because Brittany claimed she could only be happy living in
Dallas, near her family. His sacrifice didn’t help. She wanted out, plain and
simple.”
Now Cassie
felt worse. She had known he’d been married before and that it had ended
bitterly, but he hadn’t told her the specifics about what had happened. He kept
his problems to himself. Yet he’d managed to get a lot of details about her
disastrous marriage from her. In truth, she didn’t want to know too much about his
first wife. She didn’t like thinking about him having been with another woman
before her, which, of course, was ridiculous. He’d no doubt been with many
women over the years and he hadn’t been married all that long.
“I’m
sorry. Really. I just… We just…”
Cassie
glanced at the éclair again then took another bite. It didn’t taste as good as
it should have. Maybe she should call Dalton on his cell phone. No, he probably
still wanted time and distance from her. Hadn’t he told her they needed a
couple of days apart? What frightened her was that he might end up wanting much
more than that.
Rachel
picked up her cruller and took another bite. There was obviously more on her friend’s
mind than she’d yet said. She also appeared hesitant to say it.
Cassie
shoved her troubled thoughts aside to deal with later. “Besides trying to ruin
my diet, why are you here?”
“The
picnic. I need help.” She licked off her fingers one at a time. “I know there
is a small committee, but… Well, you know it’s made up the three oldest—and I’m
talking
ancient
—widows in town.”
She
looked concerned. “They’re sweet, but they aren’t very useful.” She worried
her lower lip a second and then continued. “It’s just that they’ve been
the
committee since Grangeville first started the picnic day. No one else wants to
usurp them, and only a handful of people are willing to even work with them.”
Rachel
turned pleading eyes at Cassie. “Please. I’m begging you. Help me.”
How
could she turn her friend down, especially when she’d been very vocal lately
about the importance of keeping these community events going? A growing number
of people wouldn’t mind seeing it all fade away—including Dalton and Jim. And
that was another sore point between them. A problem for another day.
She
understood exactly what Rachel had said. Nobody could deny that Elvira,
Annabel, and Mabel were sweet little old ladies. But they were also inflexible
about having their way.
“Things should be done the way they’d always been
done.”
That was their motto. Oddly enough, they all got along well with
Cassie and she might be able to get them to accept a few tiny changes. Heavy on
the
tiny
. But should she get involved?
“Dalton
would be unhappy with me if I got involved in the picnic project,” she
admitted. She shook her head sadly. “But then he’s already less than happy with
me.”
Defeat
slipped into Rachel’s expression; her shoulders slumped.
No,
darn it!
This was important to her
closest friend in town.
Cassie
thrust out her chin. “Count me in.” She’d deal with Dalton’s displeasure, even
if it meant enduring another spanking from her determined alpha man.
Rachel
looked uncertain for a second and then beamed. “Great! Let’s call a meeting
Wednesday afternoon, at my place. I’ll let the ladies know.”
Wednesday?
Something about the day nagged at Cassie. She’d
committed to something else, she was almost sure of it.
“I’ll
have to check my calendar, but I can probably rearrange my schedule.” Still,
that “something” worried her. What the heck had she committed to?
“I
hope you can, because we really need to finalize the plans. After all, the
picnic is only two weeks away.” Rachel studied the box with the two remaining
pastries and looked resigned. “You keep those. My hips certainly don’t need
them. Besides, maybe they’ll give you strength to finish up whatever room
you’re painting.”
“My
bedroom,” Cassie admitted.
Their
bedroom when Dalton stayed over. He
wasn’t going to be particularly fond of a lemon yellow room, being more of an
earth-tone fan.
Too bad, so sad
. She’d been in the mood for something
cheery, even if the paint had originally been bought for one of the spare
bedrooms.
She
followed Rachel to the front door, already not excited about finishing painting
the room. She forced the thought aside. “I’ll try to think of some subtle ways
to get the ladies to be daring for once, to take a chance on trying something
new this year.”
Rachel
hesitated at the door and gave her a wary look. “It’ll work out, Cassie. I know
it will.”
Cassie
smiled weakly, knowing her friend was talking about her and Dalton…not about
the picnic. She hoped Rachel was right. But her stomach had knotted again. He
wanted time away from her. That hurt.
***
Dalton
leaned against the dust-covered, battered ranch work truck and tried to absorb
the brief spurt of wind blowing over the field. His clothes stuck to him and he
smelled of sweat. Still working on setting the new fence post a dozen feet away,
his brothers were pretty rank, too. A shower would feel damn good to all of
them. After that, he needed a cold beer or two and some drop-dead time on his
bed.
He
frowned, ground his teeth. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours last
night after leaving Cassie. Normally after working the ranch on the weekend
with his brothers, he’d be crawling into his bed and cuddling nice and close to
her. She’d rub his aching muscles, make his world all better, and then….
Shaking
off that pleasant memory, he cursed under his breath. He couldn’t remember the
last time she hadn’t been at the ranch with him for the weekend. It felt all
wrong. Even his brothers had commented on her absence at breakfast early this
morning. They’d asked him why she hadn’t come with him. His growled “I don’t
want to talk about it” had stopped their questions. It had also kept them at a
wary distance from him all day. It had been a smart move on their part.
Finished
with the fence post, Craig lifted his hat to swipe at the sweat on his brow
with the back of his shirtsleeve. He walked in Dalton’s direction. “This is
exactly why I’m not interested in getting serious with some woman. Grief.
That’s what they give you.”
“Some
darn good loving, too,” Parker countered, walking over and pulling off his
leather gloves. He glanced at Dalton. “Except when you’re on the outs with your
woman.”
Dalton
pinned his brothers with a warning look. “I’m
not
talking about Cassie
or about
us
. Understand? Just let it go.”
He
walked to the truck bed and reached into the cooler for a cold bottle of water.
Then he grabbed another one and tossed them at his brothers. He grabbed one for
himself, too. Pulling off the top, he took a deep drink. It didn’t come close
to cooling him down.