Confessions of a Wild Heart (11 page)

           But he’d had that taken from him. He’d faced the ultimate consequences. Made the worst choices. He felt like he’d been fighting even harder since then. Fighting to survive, fighting to stay in school, fighting to take care of the mess he’d made while hating himself.

           Damn, he was tired of fighting, and when he’d seen Jase, he felt that familiar freedom, like being tempted by an illicit drug, only to be told you couldn’t have it.

           “Get yourself together, man. Goddamn.” He shook his head and laughed mirthlessly at himself. And now he was losing his mind.

           He thought back on the words Dustin said before he’d left the night before, while dressing and putting on his sneakers.

          
“You know, he may be at the re-election event Saturday.”

           “Who?” Ase was so fucked out, he’d honestly forgotten his name, much less what they’d talked about before they’d moved to the bedroom.

           “That deputy. Most of them will be there. Unless he’s working, that is. Otherwise, he’ll probably show up. You could at least…” Dustin shrugged and studied Ase in that way that stripped Ase bare, made him glad this was the last time they’d do this. “Get some closure.”

           “I got all the closure I need.”

           Dustin smirked. “You keep telling yourself that, Doc.”

           He’d never admit to the little bastard he was right. Ase had been around enough of them while working in hospitals to know any psychiatrist in the world would tell him he’d probably come to this godforsaken corner of the world to get closure with Jase Emery, to find absolution from all the bullshit he’d done since he’d last seen the man. Jase had been the last dream he’d had, or the last inkling of real hope, a final bright spot that he’d felt as a North Star. Maybe closure would help him sort himself out. Maybe it’d close that whole sordid fucking chapter of his life to get the goodbye he’d never gotten. One less thing just ripped from his hands and taken from his control.

Chapter 10

“WELL don’t you look handsome, deputy.” Jase looked over the hood of his truck at Lacey, who approached from her car, three spots down from him in the gravel lot.

           “I could say the same for you, ma’am,” he replied.

           “I hope I’m more pretty than handsome. Lord knows my daddy calls me his second son enough; I’m starting to think I may have grown a dick.”
And wouldn’t that suit us both just fine.
Jase smiled at the thought. She did look pretty, though, in a white sundress covered with bright, red poppies. They set off her tanned skin just the right way. Her hair was obviously straightened, pulled into a half-bun-half-ponytail thing Jase was sure had a better name than he could come up with.

           She straightened his hokey bolo tie when she reached him. “Your first time in the local version of dress blues?”

           “I wouldn’t slander dress blues calling this get-up such,” he said, drily. And damn, did he mean that. He’d not been happy when he was given the print-out that listed the dress code for county deputies at social events where they’d be recognized as such: blue button-down with khakis, a bolo tie, black or tan Stetson, boots, and to top it off, their actual deputy tin. Normally the tin didn’t look so “Welcome to Texas,” but with the bolo tie, hat, and boots, the tin star looked like a dude ranch costume. He wondered if he was expected to use a novelty accent as well.

           “I think the Sheriff’s wife made this up as she went for her photo ops.”

           Lacey laughed her honest, hearty laugh. No tittering, giggling princess here, folks. “I wouldn’t doubt that. You’d think we were a county that mattered the way she and the mayor’s wife have been carrying on the last couple years.”

           “Local pride,” Jase teased, giving a fist pump. That got him another laugh. She wrapped manicured fingers around his bicep.

           “Shall we, sir?”

           “Why, yes’m, we shall.” He was glad, now, he’d come with her. He’d decided he’d been out of bounds thinking she’d gotten the wrong idea again. Older and wiser, they could be friends now. She was thirty, not twenty-three anymore. He’d been so tense all day, stressing over getting Mama’s ramps put in after a night of tossing and turning, trying to decide if he should stalk Ase at the hospital so he could apologize for freezing up like he had.
Repay the favor, more like it.
He tried not to get lost in the same fantasy of four years ago.

           And thank goodness, he had a friend to make him laugh. He’d been trapped at that damn Ranch of Death by himself too damn long, he’d decided.

           They went through a white archway that had vines twining up the sides and tea lights placed in red-and-white checkered jars. There were a lot of people in the picnic area, formerly known as the back lawn of city hall. It’d been fenced in with a faux white picket fence. Tables were hither and thither, covered in the same red and white checkering, meant to look apple pie, all-American but with a touch of class, if the fancy candles and centerpieces were telling. People weren’t out in typical picnicking clothes either, but their Sunday best. Not black tie, by any means, but definitely dressier than a family barbecue.

           “Well, they went all out, huh?” Jase asked, leaning into Lacey’s ear, catching a whiff of cotton-candy perfume. He didn’t comment on how much she smelled like a girl he dated when he was fifteen. He didn’t know if women stuck with one fragrance from high school on, or if her knowledge of such things ended at hair, makeup, and sundresses.

           “Yeah, I’m glad I wore the dress. I almost came in jeans, but I saw a couple of ladies at the salon getting dresses from the cleaners across the street and thought better of it.”

           Jase knew his eyes were probably wide as he took in what some would probably consider an over-the-top presentation for a small county’s local sheriff’s re-election picnic.

           Of course he figured it’d be a little more upscale since they had to dress so silly, and it was being held as the sun went down and into night, rather than just grills and Solo cups at the church. He scanned the area, noting a few coworkers he should probably say hello to.

           “Do you see what I see?” Lacey asked. He glanced at her, then off in the direction she was looking.

           He smiled and side-eyed her. “Booze tent,” they said, almost in unison, before making a beeline for the open bar—the only way the sheriff probably managed to drag half the people there out tonight.

           They were halted a couple times for quick hellos, handshakes, and
tell your mama and them I asked about em
s. Finally, they found their prize and Jase waited for a rum and Coke, and Lacey ordered a Malibu Bay Breeze. Within moments, the bartenders, dressed smartly in jeans and black button-downs, passed over the booze, and they both guzzled from their glasses, foregoing the dainty stir-straws.

           After coming up for air, Lacey wrapped her hand around Jase’s bicep again and looked out over the crowd they’d just emerged from. “That was exhausting.”

           “This is why the political life is
not
my future.”

           “Thank goodness. I don’t want the first lady’s life.”

           Jase felt his brows shoot up as he snapped his head to look at her. She snorted a few times, guffawing. “Your face.”

           He glared down at her. “Snorting ain’t very lady-like.”

           “Neither is kicking you in the balls, but keep making fun of my laugh, and we’ll see how long it takes for me to show just how unladylike I can be.”

           Jase snorted. “What was that you were saying about the second son?”

           “Ja—”

           “Jason Emery!”

           “As I was saying,” Lacey mumbled, as the owner of the voice who’d called Jase’s name approached them, arms open for a hug.

           For all that Sheriff Dean’s wife Emily had made the place semi-elegant and made sure to don a fancy black cocktail dress, you couldn’t take the Texas girl out of her. She’d once been your typical Texas beauty queen, but then, what politician’s wife in Texas—even small-town sheriff’s wives—weren’t. She even had the blonde highlights and spray tan to prove it. But she did it well, was a gorgeous woman, much like her fox of a husband. They had equally sickeningly pretty kids. She didn’t look any different from the last time Jase had seen her five years ago.

           She gripped Jase in a firmer hug than you’d think she was capable of with those skinny arms. Jase grunted, and she squeezed him. She stepped back, tittering. Yes. This was a princess. “Sorry,” she said. “Pilates. I forget I’m made of steel sometimes. My kids fuss at me all the time.” Pilates, Jase’s ass. The woman had been a five time cow-roping champion in the girls’ juniors, twice in state.

           She hugged Lacey as well and offered a veneered smile before turning back to Jase. “It’s so good to see you. I was so excited when Rob told me you were working for him.”

           Jase settled for, “It’s been interesting. I was grateful for the job.” No way in hell he’d say, “It’s been nice being back.” He tried not to outright lie to people’s faces.

           “Of course, he wanted you. He was real excited when you applied to transfer to him.”

           That was nice to hear. With any other politician’s wife, he might call bullshit, but though she may be over the top and put on airs, Emily Dean wasn’t one to blow smoke up your ass. “It’s nice working with him.”

           The mayor’s wife, Debbie Priest, stopped by and lay a hand on Emily’s shoulder, whispering in her ear. She was more what you’d expect of the local politician’s wife in their neck of the woods. She wore a new dress, but it was probably from JC Penney rather than a boutique in Houston, like Emily’s. She was shorter, rounder, and had a perm in her grey hair that made her look like someone’s grandmother, though she wasn’t much older than Jase’s mom.

           Emily cast an apologetic look to Jase and Lacey. “Sorry, we have a crisis.”

           “Don’t let us keep you,” Lacey said and started sipping her drink.

           “Yeah, go be mean to some cater-waiters,” Jase teased.

           She rolled her eyes. “I wish. Caterer-waiters are safe. The kids playing in pig shit are a different story, though.” She’d barely gotten the words out,and Lacey had to turn to spit her drink. Jase watched the women bustle off, hands flying animatedly. Again, you couldn’t take the Texas out of the girl.

           Jase turned to say something to Lacey, but Sheriff Dean chose that moment to pop up. Jase sighed inwardly, missing the Ranch of Death now. This socializing was giving him a migraine.

           “Did my wife say something about pig shit?”

           “Kids playin’ in it,” Jase said, matter-of-factly.

           “Sounds right,” the sheriff replied, equally matter-of-fact, before asking a bartender for a beer. “Any kind’ll do, so long as it’s cold and it’ll get me buzzed.”

           Jase raised his glass and bumped it with Sheriff Dean’s bottle. Sheriff Dean did the same with Lacey and greeted her. More
how’s your mama doing?

           “You two gonna hold up the liquor tent all night?”

           “Probably,” Lacey said.

           “Well, don’t get too drunk,” the sheriff winked, flicking his eyes between Jase and Lacey with a teasing grin. That made Jase want to drink more.

           “Nice party, Sheriff,” Jase said, changing that subject.

           Sheriff Dean sighed like he wasn’t quite so sure. “Yeah. It’s something.” What that something was, they all left unsaid.

           Lacey turned and ordered herself and Jase another drink, taking his glass from him shortly and replacing it with another. “Congratulation on winning, Rob,” Lacey said, lifting her glass in cheers again before swigging from it.

           “Four months ago,” Jase sniped.

           “It is a bit much, huh?”

           “Nah. It’s a big deal. Second term by a landslide. You’ll end up being one of those undefeated old sheriffs, dying in your Stetson and tin star.”

“Only if I’m lucky,” Sheriff Dean said. “Only don’t tell Emily I said that. She’d have me going for Senate next if she thought I’d do it. I’d hate to disappoint her by lettin’ her know just yet that my aspirations end here.”

“Your secrets are always safe with me, Sheriff.” Jase gave a mock salute, and the sheriff shook his head.

“Well, unlike you cheaters, I gotta go kiss asses. And by kiss asses, I mean mingle. Y’all have all the booze I can’t.” He looked at Jase. “Just don’t do anything in that get-up that’d embarrass the office, please.” Jase nodded, talked out for now. “Oh, and don’t forget to get your picture made. We’ve got a right fine photographer around. Swears he’s not pro but the portfolio my nephew showed me could’ve fooled me. But what do I know?”

“I look forward to it,” Jase said, drily.

“Take one for the team. I think he’s my nephew’s boyfriend.” He sighed. “Not exactly the boyfriend I’d choose; man’s trouble, I think, but my sister likes him. So I need my boys to show support today.

The words made Jase go rigid. “
My nephew’s boyfriend….”
Did he hear that right? His silence must have been more tense than he’d intended, though how could it not with that little surprise? The sheriff’s lips thinned, eyes narrowed unhappily. Lacey had paused, too, head back a bit in surprise at whatever expression was on Jase’s face.

“Deputy. I’d expected with you being around San Antonio and the military at the end of all that Don’t Ask business, you’d have had some sensitivity training.”

“Wait. What?” he asked. Okay, so he’d thought maybe he’d look guilty, or like he was keeping something from them, but he guess he’d overcorrected when he’d pulled out his stoic, drill-sergeant-is-screaming-at-me-and-I-can’t-flinch face and gone toward hostile because the sheriff looked like he was an inch away from sending him home.