Sweet Hill Homecoming (8 page)

“Kyle’s name appears below the graffiti,” the principal said.
 

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she scoffed. “You think the vandal would leave his own name?”
 

“Well I don’t know, but Kyle was the best person to start with. And since damage of property is a felony, we called the authorities.”
 

“You’re kidding? It’s red paint on a building.” Fear raced through her. The word felony was terrifying and she instantly worried for Kyle’s future. “And Kyle didn’t do this.”

“But he seems to know who did.”
 

Mia turned to her brother. “Is that true? Do you know who did this?”
 

Kyle glanced away and shook his head. Lie. He did know. For whatever reason he was covering for them or didn’t want to be the rat. He had similar issues at his old school. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t saying a word about the real vandal.
 

Mia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Where is this graffiti?”
 

“On the south side in the student parking lot.”
 

“Well, let’s go see it,” Mia said.
 

“I was just heading there myself,” a deep voice came from behind Mia.
 

She turned to find the man she left with his pants down and breathing hard outside a bar.
 

“Deputy West,” she said. “What are you doing here?” She ran a hand over her hair, trying to smooth it. It was useless because the tangles felt unfixable.
 

“Just responding to a call.” He did that grip the clasp of his belt in his thumbs thing that she hated—loved—no, definitely hated. “Protecting and serving and all.”

 
With her patience dwindling, her chest hurting in attempts to tamp down the fear for her brother’s future and now Deputy Hottie looking every bit the controlled man he was rumored to be, Mia was on the edge of losing her mind.
 

“Well, let’s go check this thing out,” she said.
 

~

Check things out?

Tate’s thoughts exactly as his eyes slid over the entire length of Mia. Did the woman ever not look good?
 

After seeing her at the bar the other night, Tate hadn’t been feeling himself. Funny how watching a woman come apart around you, ending your dry spell, and awaking some beast within could do that.

And Tate hated it. Didn’t bode well for his respectable image or his campaign. And now another Blake was in trouble? Perfect. But Mia just kept her chin high in the air, though he could tell she was nervous.

Tate couldn’t figure her out. She seemed to have a few different sides to her and he was having a hard time keeping up. She played him like a damn fiddle, knew how to work her power and Tate fell. Fucking hard.
 

Then there was this girl. In a damn apron and sneakers with messy hair and obviously tired already. Yet she had a determined look on her face. She seemed hardworking. Thanks to Luke, Tate now knew that she was typically up at the crack of dawn to open Annie’s Café.
 

Maybe Mia wasn’t what he thought. Maybe she had changed and wasn’t the demanding favors kind of woman he remembered. Plus, not once since their original encounter had her car been in the red zone outside the café anymore.
 

But jumping to conclusions wasn’t smart. Just because her former situation didn’t match her current predicament, didn’t mean she wasn’t hell bent on proving a point, fucking with his mind—and body.
 

She however didn’t seem to care about his presence other than solving this vandalizing issue, which was a good indicator that she probably didn’t care about the other night either.
 

They got to the wall and Tate wanted to laugh. He’d hoped kids would have gotten more creative over the years.
 

“You do this?” Tate asked the kid, who didn’t share many similar features to Mia other than the striking turquoise eye color. The kid was only a few inches shorter than Tate’s six-foot-three and built like a brick house.
 

“No, I didn’t,” he said calmly.
 

Tate nodded and glanced around for paraphernalia. When a gust of winter air blew around them, he couldn’t help but notice the way it affected Mia. The tip of her nose was pink and her creamy skin broke out in goose bumps. He wished he had a coat to offer her. For some reason the fact that she may have a less than stellar perception of him hadn’t sat well over the last several days. He really wasn’t a bad guy, and for some reason it mattered to him how she saw him. It shouldn’t…but it did.
 

Below the painted “object” was Kyle’s name.
 

“Seems like a bad idea to put your name on something that will obviously get you in trouble,” Tate said.

“See!” Mia pointed at him and then nodded at the principal. She even gifted him with a smile and the thing made Tate’s lungs hurt a little. He thought she was sexy glaring his way, but smiling? Incredible. “That’s just what I said.”
 

For a brief moment, Mia and Tate were on the same team.

Very brief.
 

Because a flash of red caught Tate’s eye. He walked to the car parked next to the wall and there in the front seat was a red spray paint can. He didn’t have to ask to know whose car it was. He’d recognize that sunroof anywhere.
 

“This is your car,” Tate stated.
 

Kyle nodded.

“You know it is,” Mia said. “Kyle and I share it.”
 

When Kyle walked over and saw what Tate was looking at, the kid looked like he was going to lose his lunch.
 

“I didn’t…that’s not mine,” Kyle said quickly.
 

“Vandals get automatic suspension and kicked off the team,” the principal said. “I don’t want to have to do that but it’s policy.”
 

Kyle’s eyes went wide. “No! I didn’t do it.”
 

“You play football?” Tate asked.
 

He nodded.
 

Tate knew what a big deal that was. He may have been second string, but this kid, based by the rumors around town and sheer size of him, seemed to be beyond exceptional.
 

“I can’t get kicked off the team,” Kyle said. “There’re scouts coming for playoffs.”
 

“This can’t really be felony material,” Mia said.

Tate checked the edge of the passenger window. “We call it malicious mischief but technically it’s a class B felony.”
 

He ran his finger along a small scratch by the window edge. The nick looked like it had come from a jimmy to unlock. But it wasn’t solid proof considering the car had its fair share of scrapes everywhere.
 

“He’s telling the truth,” Mia said, thrusting herself between Tate and Kyle as if some kind of irate mama bear. While her eyes were lit with fury, they were also wild with concern.
 

“Deputy,” she said lowly. “I need you to just …” she glanced over her shoulder at the paint can. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said as if harnessing her inner Jedi Warrior.
 

Any minute, he thought, she just may wave her hand in front of his face and tell him this was all just a dream.
 

He scoffed.
 

“While I appreciate you informing me,” once again, “what I need, I can tell you right now that I’m looking at reality.” He glanced at the paint can, then met her eyes. “And it doesn’t look good.”

If he didn’t think Miss Blake could get a sterner look, he was mistaken because her delicate brow furrowed even farther.
 

“He can’t get kicked off the team,” she stated. “Especially when he’s innocent. Why can’t you just—”

“Just do you this one favor and look the other way?” he said so only she could hear.
 

She pursed her lips, not arguing, hell not even trying to argue. Guess he was wrong in thinking she changed. Mia was the exact person he thought her to be. Demanding favors, expecting people—him—to fall at her feet and give her anything she wants. But once again, some red paint stood in the way.
 

Plus they were in the presence of others. Which meant Tate stood a chance at not actually giving in to her.

“I was going to say, why can’t you just believe the best in people?”
 

He laughed. “And what would you have me believe? Look at the evidence. And yet even with the red flashing in front of you, once again, you don’t seem to care.”

“I do care!” she snapped. “But I know my brother and I believe him. Obviously this is a set up. If you were any kind of Deputy you’d investigate or something.”
 

He shook his head. Her words poked him like a kid kicking a wasp’s nest. First she accused him of being on a power trip because she didn’t get her way, then she purposefully seduced him, and now she was telling him he lacked skill in his job?
 

That heat Mia made him feel? The kind the bordered between rage and lust, redlined.
 

“I’m not a detective,” he said. “But I do believe in the truth and pursuing it. Not dishing out favors to whoever bats their eyes.”
 

“Well jokes on you then, Deputy.” She stepped closer, almost on his toes. So close that he could smell. Wild fire, apple pie, and all woman. Her eyes sparked with fury and damn if her whole snarky routine didn’t make him a little hard. “I wouldn’t bat my eyes in your direction if you were the last man on earth.”
 

He grinned and whispered, “That’s not what you were panting the other night, sweetheart.”
 

Her mouth parted and Tate heard the smallest gasp or was it a growl? Either way, he got to her, just like she was getting to him.

“If I’m not mistaken, Deputy, I believe you were the one who couldn’t walk away,” she whispered back and just like that, Tate was wishing he had another wall and some privacy.

How did this woman get under his skin? Fire him up in a way that threatened his prized self-control? In more ways than one.
 

Realizing they had an audience and wanting to wrap this up and prove Mia wrong, that he was in fact a diligent investigator, he snapped his head up and called, “Kyle.”

“Yes, sir?” Kyle said, taking the few steps to where he and Mia were standing.
 

Tate let out a long breath, gathering his wits and trying not to look at the hot little blonde that had him buzzing with so much raw adrenaline he couldn’t see straight.

“This graffiti was painted in the last few hours?”
 

“Had to be,” Kyle said, “It wasn’t there when I pulled into school this morning.”
 

Tate nodded. “Let me see your hands.”
 

Kyle held them out and Tate looked them over.
 

“No paint,” he said to the principal. “With spray paint on a day like this with the breeze, you can expect some blow back.” Tate looked at Kyle’s shirt. Not even a spec of red anywhere to be found. “I don’t see any sign that Kyle was near paint. Doesn’t smell like it either.”
 

Mia’s entire body relaxed. He could see her shoulders ease and her chest take a deep breath.
 

He couldn’t help but lean in and whisper, “Mighty fine investigative work if I do say so myself.” He winked at her and as he suspected, she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Maybe in Mia-nese that meant thank you. At least, that was how he’d take it.

“I don’t think you did this,” Tate said to Kyle.
 

“That’s fine and good,” the principal said. “But the problem is, the graffiti still remains.”

Tate nodded. “I think you know who painted the wall, Kyle. Either fess up, or you’re responsible for cleaning this up.”

Kyle didn’t take his eyes off Tate. Impressive for a kid.
 

“I’ll clean it up, sir.”
 

Tate sighed. Whatever was going on with this kid, with this little family unit, Tate wasn’t sure. But he had a feeling it was just starting.
 

“Then I suggest you get on it.” He tipped his hat to Mia. “And I’ll be in touch about community service.”

“Community service?” Mia huffed. “But he’s not being charged.”

“You’re right, he’s not. You’re welcome,” Tate said with a grin which Mia clearly didn’t appreciate. “But vandalism gets community service, unless you prefer a fine?”

When she bit her lip, he had his answer.
 

“Didn’t think so.” He took one last look at the fair haired bombshell that had him charged up and looking forward to nothing but a cold shower later.
 

“So like I said, I’ll be in touch.”

Chapter Five

“This is very impressive,” Council woman Betsy Delmore said, flipping through Mia’s portfolio.