“Thanks.”

Sheriff Dan McKillop hung up the landline, kicked back in his chair, and dropped his bootheels on his desk so he could stare at the stain on the ceiling of his office in comfort. He liked to do that when he was thinking, and right now, he was thinking he wouldn’t want to be in his friend Zack McGregor’s shoes. Posey Davies was pretty enough, but a pretty heiress with a small child and a greedy ex-husband came with baggage no sane man would want.

The greedy ex-husband was currently recovering from a slight concussion in one of the jail cells. He was making noise about pressing assault charges against Zack, but he could make as much noise as he wanted and it wouldn’t get him far. He’d swung at Zack first. The guy got the concussion when his head hit the ground. Dan, and Zack’s oldest brother Jake, had witnessed the whole, short-lived fight. Dan would give him a few hours to cool off, then he’d explain to him how the law worked in Montana and advise him it might be best for his health if he never came back.

That was the thing about money—it brought out the worst in people, especially those who’d never had it. Dan was happy enough with his paycheck. It paid the bills.

The landline rang again. He checked the number. Unknown.

“So. Dan,” a sensual, very feminine, voice said when he answered. “For a sheriff, you’re a hard man to track down. Did you really mean to let me deploy without saying goodbye?”

Andy. 

Dan’s heart leaped a track field full of hurdles. Talk about baggage. Talk about something—or someone—that brought out the worst in a man. 

Talk about trouble. He’d ignored the fluster of unknown calls coming in on his cellphone the past week. He couldn’t ignore them at work.

“Yeah. I did,” he replied, once he started breathing again. Andy’s idea of saying goodbye generally involved getting naked and dirty and always left him wanting a whole lot more of her than she was willing to give. 

He was done.

They’d been having casual sex since they were fourteen. Correction. The sex had been casual to her. Dan had been waiting fifteen years for her to get that wild streak out of her system. And he’d finally accepted that it wasn’t likely to happen. 

“Where are you?” he asked, because he was stupid.

There was a bit of a delay and a whole lot of crackle on her end of the line. “Doesn’t matter.”

He hadn’t really expected an answer, other than that he’d hoped she was somewhere safe, which was highly unlikely. She was a weapons expert and sharpshooter who traveled all over the world, mostly to places the military didn’t discuss. What she lacked in self-awareness she made up for in balls. He’d give her that.

“So, sheriff. What are you wearing?”

He had to laugh, even though every inch of him reacted to the blatant sex in her tone. “Really, Andy? Phone sex? That’s why you’ve been trying to call me?”

“You can think of a better reason?”

He could think of a dozen. Tell me you’re safe. Tell me you miss me. Tell me you’re coming home… None of those things were going to happen. 

“I guess maybe I should have taken the time to talk to you when you were home,” Dan said. He took a deep breath and stared hard at the ceiling. “If all I’m after is sex, I can get that from dozens of women.”

“Someone thinks a lot of himself.”

“That’s just it, Andy. I do. And I wish you thought more of yourself.”

Her voice gained a sharp edge that scraped across the airwaves from wherever she was. “I like who I am. I like what I do. You should try taking a few risks and live life a little.”

He was the county sheriff. He took plenty of risks in his line of work. But he took them to save lives, not for fun. “The difference between you and me is that the greater the odds are against you, the better you like them.”

“There’s no talking to you when you’re like this. I’ll find another bump buddy. One who doesn’t get all sentimental on me. Call me the next time I’m home. Or don’t. I don’t care.” 

He closed his eyes. She was exciting. Mysterious. Unattainable. And finally, he’d had enough. A bump buddy was all he’d ever been to her and ever would be. She’d never change. She loved nothing and no one, not even herself. Right now, Zack McGregor’s problems with Posey and her baggage looked pretty damned insignificant. At least Zack stood a chance.

There was no way to sweeten this. “I’m not interested in being a bump buddy to you. I want more. I want a family. I’ve loved you since we were in first grade and I want you to love me back. But you don’t.” 

The silence went on for so long he wondered if they’d lost their connection. When she finally spoke, she was impatient. “Why did you have to go and complicate things? Why couldn’t you leave it alone? I never asked you to love me.”

A tight knot inside him broke free. “You’re right. This is on me and I’ve let things go on long enough. Too long. Take care of yourself,” he said, and he meant it, even though he was wasting his breath. “But don’t call me again. I’m moving on.” He meant that too. He wasn’t waiting for her any longer. She’d never wanted him to. At least he now knew for certain.

“Bite me,” she said, before hanging up.

He set the phone receiver in its cradle, then returned to examining the stain on the ceiling.

I’d intended it as an epilogue from dad, Marty’s, POV and a bridge to the next Calhoun in the series. Marty Calhoun is a sweetheart who deals out bear hugs and wisdom like most good dads do. As much as he’s loved celebrating his children’s successes away from Bigfork, he’s enjoying having them all home again too. – Juanita

Deleted Scene:

Molly’s Old Time Five and Dime pumped with folk coming in for a piece of the gossip on how Tony Jackson came to be arrested in Bigfork. At the battle-scarred kitchen table in the rear of the shop, Marty eyed out a sad-looking Ronan Jackson.

“There’s a place for you to stay at the ranch, boy. You could spend some time with your sister and your niece.”

The young man stopped fiddling with the spoon in his mug of cocoa, laced with a dash of Molly’s finest whiskey. “You’d let me do that?”

Marty shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“Charlotte hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t. She just doesn’t know you yet. She had to learn to know herself first.”

“Maybe a night or two, then?”

Mason pulled out a chair, swung it around backwards and straddled it. “You hurt Pyro again and I’ll have to get Carter to shoot you. I can’t have anyone messing with my designer.”

“Pyro?”

“Lamborghini? Matches? She’s my hero.”

Ronan grinned. “I hated that car. Dad wanted it more than I did.”

Carter snorted and rattled the newspaper he’d been reading. “Yeah right. I bet you would have preferred a Chevy Camaro.”

“A Corvette Stingray, actually.”

“At least you have decent taste in cars.” Mason stared him down. “Now all you have to learn is how to be a decent human being.”

“Yeah, I might need some help with that. I didn’t have the best role model.”

Marty slapped a hand on the table. “You can start by making it up to your sister. You have big fences to mend, boy.”

The kitchen door flew open and thumped against the wall. Marty offered up a prayer of thanks that Zoe was up front with Molly getting cooed all over by the women of Bigfork. His youngest daughter shot into the room like a V8 off pole position, firing on all cylinders.

“Hey, kids, I’m home!”

Marty pushed his chair back and stood. “Welcome back, honey.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She hugged him hard, kissed his cheek, slapped him on the shoulder and looked around the table. “Mason, Carter … Ronan Jackson, you scumbag, what are you doing at the family table? Dad, what’s he doing here? Where’s Chase?”

“Slow down, girl, and take a breath. Is Paige back with you?”

Mason’s head shot up. “I’m outta here.” He stood up off the chair, swung it around and pushed it back under the table, the scrape of sixties metal against tile setting Marty’s teeth on edge as he watched his middle son run from his past again. The back door into the alleyway behind the store slammed shut, the noise echoing in the sudden silence.

Carter dropped the paper with a sigh. “I’ve got it, Dad. I’ll go after him.”

Marty sank back down on his chair and slapped both palms against the roughened denim covering his knees as his daughter’s best friend, pit mechanic, and the girl responsible for breaking Mason’s heart entered the room. “Welcome home, Trinity. And Paige. You have a niece to meet and a wedding to help plan.” The times ahead loomed full of trouble and torment, but God, it was good to have his kids home. Now all he had to do was get Grace back too.

Juanita graduated from the Australian College QED, Bondi with a diploma in Proofreading, Editing and Publishing, and achieved her dream of becoming a published author in 2012 with the release of her debut romantic suspense, Fly Away Peta (recently re-released as Under Shadow of Doubt).  

Under the Hood followed in 2013 as one of the first releases from Harlequin’s digital pioneer, Escape Publishing.  

In 2014 Juanita was nominated for the Lynn Wilding (Romance Writers of Australia) Volunteer Award, and was a finalist in the Romance Writers Australia Romantic Book of the Year and the Australian Romance Readers Awards in 2014 and 2016.  Her small-town romances have made the Amazon bestseller and top 100 lists. Juanita writes mostly contemporary and rural romantic suspense but also likes to dabble in the ponds of Paranormal with Greek gods brought to life in the 21st century. 

She escapes the real world to write stories starring spirited heroines who give the hero a run for his money before giving in.  When she’s not writing, Juanita is mother to three boys and a Daschund named Sam, and has a passion for fast cars and country living.