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My Kind of Town Page 5


  The sheriff touched the rim of his hat. “Ma’am.”

  Holy shit. Emma had never heard a voice that low before.

  Say something, you idiot. Don’t just stare at the man. “Nice to meet you, Sheriff.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, Bear.” Tully stood up. “I want to take our Miss Emma to breakfast in the cafeteria, but your deputy has made that impossible.”

  “What?”

  Tully took Emma’s hand and lifted it so Bear could see the handcuff.

  “And,” she added, a bit desperately, “to be quite honest, I really have to go.”

  Dropping her duffel bag on an empty chair, Bear sighed and walked over to Emma.

  “Some days I wonder ‘bout that boy.”

  “I know,” Tully agreed with a small smile that didn’t seem at all brotherly. “I don’t know how you trust him with human lives.”

  As Bear leaned over to let her loose, Tully gave her a slow wink and she nearly shivered. Dangerous. This man was very nice and very dangerous.

  “There.” Bear removed the cuffs and slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Emma scooted off the bed and grabbed her duffel bag. “Thanks.”

  “We’ll wait outside until you’re done,” Bear offered.

  Tully snorted. “We will?”

  With a low grunt, Bear grabbed Tully by the back of the neck and shoved him out the door.

  Emma nearly sprinted to the bathroom and gratefully used the toilet, trying hard to keep her relieved sighs to herself. Once done, she dropped the bag on top of the closed toilet and reached back to untie the gown. That’s when she felt it. A deep, painful sting. Panic swept through her, and she practically tore the gown from her body. She stood in front of the mirror over the sink and raised her left arm.

  Then she stared.

  She stared at the clear bite mark on the inside of her upper arm. Right where she’d put it when Dream-Kyle made her come. Of course, with her arm handcuffed to the bed, that was physically impossible to do in her sleep unless …

  Well, this just got horribly weird.

  Kyle walked into Emma’s hospital room freshly showered, dressed and fed, only to find the woman and his favorite pair of handcuffs gone.

  Finding her gone only irritated him a little. The lingering scent of his mongrel brother and that flea-bitten bear, though, had him spitting mad.

  “Bastards.”

  Focusing on Emma’s scent rather than Tully’s or Bear’s, Kyle found them easily enough. They sat at a long table in the cafeteria eating a typically large Smithville breakfast.

  Kyle hung back by the entryway and watched Emma, all that hair still partially covering her face. Like a sucker punch to his gut, all those intense feelings from the dream came rushing back to him, holding his body and his mind hostage.

  Damn the woman. Damn her to hell and back.

  Without a word, Kyle stormed over to the table and sat in the chair opposite Tully and catty-corner from Emma. Bear, by his very nature and size, always needed more space, so he sat three chairs over.

  “I turn my back for ten seconds,” Kyle stated while grabbing a link sausage off Emma’s plate, “and you disappear on me.”

  Emma picked up a slice of toast and bit into it, all while staring at him, but she didn’t say a word.

  “Lord, little brother, you sure are cranky this lovely summer morning.”

  Without taking his eyes off Emma, Kyle said, “Shut up, Tully.”

  “I wonder what has you so tense. Could it be the daily stresses of your job? Are your Wranglers too tight? Has that stick up your ass gotten bigger?”

  Emma laughed, and Kyle turned on Tully like a rattler on a mongoose.

  “Go chase your tail, mongrel.”

  “Go climb a tree.”

  “Go chew a toy.”

  “Go play with yarn.”

  They were ten seconds away from going after each other with fangs and claws whether completely human Emma was there or not, but the growled “Y’all” immediately calmed them down. Only Bear had that ability. The man could make “y’all” sound like the scariest thing ever.

  Kyle glanced at his boss. “Hey, Bear.”

  “Kyle.”

  And that’s all Bear said. A man of few words, Sheriff McMahon kept the town safe and everyone in line simply by being what he was … a big bear. They were the perfect breed for sheriff. No affiliations except with their own kin. No Packs, Prides or Clans to speak of. They didn’t like anyone, really, even each other, so favoritism was never a big problem. And whether human or bear, they were enormous, so even tigers at sometimes seven hundred pounds when shifted had to think twice before challenging them. Bear’s ability to defuse brawls between lions and hyenas had become legendary.

  As long as you stayed out of their way and didn’t make too much noise when they were around, brown and black bears made great law enforcers.

  Bear took his position from Momma McMahon, and one day Bear’s fifteen-year-old son, Luke, would probably do the same. If for no other reason, the McMahons really didn’t feel like going anywhere else and starting over. Bears liked their lives simple and quiet. And Kyle’s boss was no different.

  Sopping gravy with his biscuit, Bear asked, “Can you explain to me, Deputy, why Miss Emma was wearing your handcuffs this morning?”

  “She stole my phone.”

  “Borrowed,” she squeaked in. “I borrowed your phone.”

  Bear silently chewed his biscuit for several long seconds, then said to Emma, “You do know stealing is a hanging offense around here, don’t ya?”

  Emma threw up her hands. “It is not! And stop saying that. You’re freaking me out.”

  Going back to his biscuits and gravy, Bear grumbled, “I’m. just sayin’… it could have been worse for ya.”

  Even though she rolled her eyes in exasperation, Emma still smiled. A smile that had Kyle staring at her like a lovesick cub. He didn’t even realize it until Tully kicked him under the table to snap him out of it.

  Completely oblivious, Emma sipped her orange juice and said to Tully, “Finish your story.”

  “Oh, yeah. Anyway, I was a tender fifteen. She a saucy eighteen-year-old—”

  “Not that,” Emma laughed. “I meant about your family.”

  “Oh. Well. You’ve got your Carolina Smiths. North and South. Your Alabama Smiths. Your Tennessee Smiths. Your Kentucky Smiths. And your Texas Smiths, but they ain’t real friendly. As well as Florida, Detroit, and, of course, the West Virginia Smiths.”

  Kyle glanced at Emma and shrugged. “Of course.”

  Emma giggled as Tully continued.

  “But it all started right here when the first Smith arrived on these shores about four hundred years ago.”

  “You can trace your family back that far?”

  “Most of us around here can.”

  Emma shrugged. “I know I have a great-aunt on my dad’s side who lives in Sicily, and a cousin on my mom’s side in Jiaoling Prison for gunrunning.”

  Kyle sighed. “Well, isn’t that a lovely tale to tell your grandchildren one day.”

  Emma held her arm up so Kyle could see her wrist. “Did you notice this? I’m bruised from your stupid handcuffs.”

  “Then you shouldn’t steal,” he said while stealing another sausage link off her plate. “So … did you sleep well, Emma?”

  Emma choked on her juice, waving Kyle away when he went to pound on her back.

  She’d been trying all morning to forget about that dream and praying he didn’t remember. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she must have pulled the poor sap right into her dreamscape. Based on the way he was looking at her, though, he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.

  Wiping her mouth with a linen napkin embroidered with the hospital’s logo, Emma muttered, “I slept well. The beds here are very soft and comfortable. For a hospital and all.”

  “We do like our creature comforts,” Tully offered after sipping his coffee. “When yo
u check put of the hospital, you can stay at the Smithville Arms and—” Tully abruptly stopped speaking, those dangerous hazel eyes locking on Kyle. “Do that again and you’ll lose a leg, son.”

  That’s when Emma knew Kyle had kicked his brother under the table.

  “Mind your own business or I’ll rip out your throat.”

  Emma had seen a lot of fights between men. Before college, she worked in her father’s Manhasset pizza parlor every summer. After eight o’clock on a Saturday night, after a few pitchers of beer, there was always a fight between two or more guys. Lots of bullshit threats thrown around. Occasionally the cops called. But something about these two squaring off felt different.

  It felt … deadly.

  “Y’all,” Bear sighed again, either not feeling the tension or not caring. And like that, the deadly moment ended as quickly as it had come.

  Bear finished off his juice and stood up, pulling his baseball cap out of his back pocket. “I’m done eating. I’m going back to the office. Nice to meet you, Miss Emma. See ya at the office, Kyle. You coming, Tully?”

  “Nope. I think I’m going to spend a little more time with our Miss Emma.”

  Our?

  Kyle hadn’t felt this pissed since a bunch of hyenas surrounded him and took off with his deer. He’d hunted it, run it down, torn it open, and then these scavengers came out of nowhere and his one to their twenty didn’t stand a chance. He had to let his prize go:

  He’d be damned if he did the same thing with Emma. He especially wouldn’t give her up to Tully. The woman deserved better than a dog.

  Emma leaned forward, dropping her head in her hands, her. fingers rubbing her eyes in obvious exasperation. “Look, Deputy, I’m really fine and I think—”

  “Why do you always have your hair in your face like that?”

  Her hands froze and, after several seconds, brown eyes stared at him through her fingers and all that hair. “What is your obsession with my hair?”

  He ignored her question to ask his own. “You do know you’re pretty, don’t you? You’re not insecure about that, are you?”

  Emma glared at him. “I don’t think you said that loud enough. Utah missed out.”

  “If you don’t believe me, ask Tully. He’ll be honest.”

  A look of horror spread across her face and a strangled sound came out of her throat. “No!”

  Tully grinned. “Ask me.”

  Kyle turned to his brother. “Do you think Emma’s—” He stopped speaking. He had to. The large piece of ham that hit him in the head completely distracted him.

  Tully snorted out a laugh and looked away.

  Kyle squinted at Emma. “Did you just hit me with pork?”

  “I had to.”

  “You had to?”

  “Yes. You wouldn’t shut up,” she squeaked.

  Tully laughed harder and Kyle joined him. It had been a long time since they found something to laugh at together. Most of the time it was more about keeping territory, fighting over prey, or getting the bigger piece of their momma’s pecan pie at Thanksgiving dinner.

  “It’s not funny,” she yelped.

  “Actually …” The brothers looked at each other and said in unison, “Yes, it is!”

  Growling, Emma poked at what was left of her food. “Let’s just leave Tully out of this.”

  “Why? What are you afraid he’s going to say?”

  “It’s not what he’ll say. It’s what he won’t say. It’s The Pause.”

  Kyle and Tully glanced at each other. “The Pause?” Kyle asked, finding himself damn entertained by this woman.

  “Yeah. The Pause.”

  “And what is that exactly?”

  Emma tucked her legs up under her and sat back on her heels. “It’s when someone asks you a question that you start to answer honestly and realize you can’t, you stand there staring blindly for two seconds too long and your true answer becomes clear.”

  When neither brother said anything, she elaborated. “For instance, ‘Honey? Do I look fat in this?’ And your only response is to stare for more than fifteen seconds because you’re scrambling for an answer. Like this …” Her face went perfectly blank under all that hair. Then she shrugged. “That’s The Pause.”

  It was the most the woman had said at one time, and he found it … wonderful. She wore her nuttiness well.

  “So, you were afraid Tully would give you The Pause if I asked him if you were cute?”

  “It’s possible. And I’m already too traumatized to have to stress over that as well.”

  “Sweetheart,”, Tully drawled, “you’re not cute. You’re hot. There’s a difference. And I prefer hot any day.”

  Emma snorted. “Yeah. I’m sure that line gets you a lot of booty, Tully, but it won’t work on me.”

  Tully leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Lord, woman. You are adorable.” He looked at Kyle. “Let’s keep her.”

  Kyle shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait.” Emma shook her head. “I thought we discussed this. You can’t just keep me.”

  “Why not?” Kyle and Tully asked together.

  “’Cause I’m not a stray cat or something you found by the side of the road.”

  Tully grinned. “You mean like Kyle?” Tully leaned over and said, “His daddy don’t like to talk about it, but he picked Kyle up over on Jessup Road hidin’ under a car.”

  Kyle wanted to be mad, but he couldn’t. Not with Emma around. “Yeah. And your momma told me she got you from the pound. Had you fixed there, too.”

  Emma scratched her forehead while pushing her food tray away. “You two slam each other with the weirdest insults.”

  Six

  Emma, her hand on her hospital door, stopped and turned around to look at Tully. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I said I have to get back to my office.”

  “Before that.”

  “That being mayor is a lot of work.”

  She frowned. “Mayor of what?”

  Kyle laughed so hard, she knew someone must have asked the question before.

  With a small snarl, Tully answered, “Of Smithville.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Come on.” Kyle shoved Tully hard, but the big man barely noticed. Boy, these Southerners were a tough bunch. “I need to talk to you outside for a sec, Mr. Mayor.” As the pair headed down the hallway, Kyle threw over his shoulder, “And don’t try sneaking off, darlin’. Unless you’re just in the mood for me to hunt you down.”

  Emma didn’t answer Kyle, too busy staring at his ass as he walked away. Jeez, the guy could really work a pair of jeans.

  “Get control of yourself, you idiot.” It was one thing to fool around with a guy in her dreamscape. A whole other thing to try it on this plane of existence. The risk of rejection was too great; she immediately dismissed the idea. Emma didn’t do embarrassment well. Actually, she didn’t do it at all.

  Sighing in resignation, she opened her hospital-room door and stopped.

  “Uh …” She looked up at the number on the door to see if she had the wrong room. Nope. Right room.

  The two very old women stared at her and she stared back.

  “You must be Emma,” one of them said.

  “Yes. I am.”

  “I’m Sophie Winchell and this is my sister Adelaide.” The second sister merely nodded in Emma’s direction but apparently didn’t feel the need to speak.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Oh, we’re just here to, visit. We heard you had a very bad accident.”

  “Around here that’s big news.” The other sister finally spoke, and Emma wished she hadn’t. It sounded like someone shredded her vocal chords with a cheese grater.

  “That’s very nice of you.”

  “Not really,” Adelaide admitted. “We just wanted to get a look atcha.”

  And that’s when Emma knew. “Well, thanks for the welcome, sisters.”

  Sophie smiled but her sister sneered. “We ain’t your sist
ers.”

  Emma sighed. “I see.” All that light and love among certain covens, and still sometimes they could be the biggest bigots when it came to those who worshipped the Dark Mothers. “So then why am I here?”

  The two sisters looked at each other and then Adelaide helped her sister out of the chair. Sophie used a cane, while her sister appeared to be as strong as an ox despite her obvious age. “You’re here, dear, because we need you. Because we need your Coven.”

  The two women neared the door and Emma moved aside to let them pass. “They’re not coming.”

  Sophie stopped and her sister began to say something, but Sophie cut her off with a raised hand. Adelaide might be the enforcer of their coven, but Sophie was definitely their high priestess.

  “You should come stay at our hotel, the Smithville Arms, when you get out of here, dear. I think you’ll like it. I think you’ll definitely like this town. It’s a good, safe place for our people.”

  Sophie raised her hand to pat Emma’s cheek, but Emma stepped back and away.

  The old woman smiled. “We’ll talk when you feel better, dear.” Without another word, the two women left.

  “Looks like the big pussy’s got a crush.”

  Kyle bared his fangs. “Stay away from her, Tully.”

  Tully gave a rough laugh. “I ain’t a hyena, friend. I don’t take what ain’t mine.”

  “Who said she’s mine?”

  “You do. You’re acting like you did last night when you dragged that gazelle up the tree so my Pack couldn’t get to it. Besides”—Tully lifted his nose in the air and cast around—“something’s not right in this town, little brother. You and I both know it. Soon everyone will know it. We can smell it on the wind. Feel it tremble beneath our feet in the dirt. There’s something the Elders aren’t telling us.” Cold wolf eyes looked at Kyle, and he realized there was little connection between some fun-loving dog and the wolves that roamed Smithville. Although he did love watching Tully go all cranky when Kyle called him Fido.

  Ambling off down the road, Tully said, “And what do you wanna bet, little brother, your Miss Emma is at the heart of it all?”

  Emma stared out the window of her hospital room at the rapidly darkening sky. Seemed like it would be a stormy night.