Smooth-Talking Texan

She moved away, and the girl went into her spiel. “My name is Teresa, and I’ll be waiting on you this evening. Could I get you a drink while you look over the menu?”

Lisa ordered and settled back into the booth to relax. Benny, she noticed, had disappeared. She found her thoughts turning to Sheriff Sutton. The man was damnably attractive. She remembered that moment in his office when they had been only inches apart, white-hot anger coursing through her, and mingled with it, feeding off it, had been a pulsing, primitive desire. She had felt it coming off him, too, humming and magnetic.

It was absurd, of course, Lisa reminded herself. They were, literally, on opposites sides. And she felt certain that they had nothing in common, no real attraction except for that strange, momentary response. A chemical reaction, that’s all. Some animal impulse, spurred by a signal too primal for her to even notice—a scent or a visual stimulus—the line of his leg against his uniform, perhaps, or his long, mobile fingers, thumb hooked into the belt of his uniform, or the well-cut lips…

Lisa realized with a start that she was sitting staring at the table dreamily, a faint smile curving her mouth. She had started out analyzing her bizarre response to the man, and she had wound up daydreaming about him like a teenager in class!

She was glad when Teresa brought her salad, giving her something to concentrate on besides the sheriff. The meal, she discovered to her delight, was delicious—the salad crisp and dark green, the barest of balsamic vinaigrette on it, just as she liked it, and the pasta dish light and subtly seasoned.

“How was your dinner?” Elizabeth Morgan stopped by her table on the way back from seating some more customers.

“Wonderful,” Lisa replied truthfully. “As good as in Dallas.”

Elizabeth smiled at the phrasing of her praise. “I take it that you miss Dallas?”

“Yeah.” Lisa let out a regretful sigh. “Although, I have to admit, not as much after a dinner like this one.”

Elizabeth lingered by her table for a few minutes, chatting with her about Dallas, and Teresa came to clear the dishes from her table and bring her bill. She had just paid her bill when the door of the café opened and Sheriff Sutton strode in.

He glanced around, then walked purposefully toward Lisa’s table. What was it, Lisa wondered, that was so utterly sexy about the way a man walked in cowboy boots?

Beside her, echoing her thoughts, Elizabeth Morgan let out an exaggerated sigh and said, “Sheriffs have got it all over cops, don’t they? There’s just something about boots and a cowboy hat.” She smiled at Sutton as he drew near. “Good evening, Sheriff. You want to see a menu?”

“No, thanks, Elizabeth. I’m not staying. I just wanted to talk to Ms. Mendoza.”

“Sure. You want something to drink? Coffee? Iced tea?”

“Coffee would be great, thanks.”

Elizabeth moved away as he slid into the booth across from Lisa.

“Have a seat,” Lisa commented dryly.

He grinned. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I saw your car outside. Thought I’d drop by and talk to you a little bit.”

“How do you know my car?” She asked, exasperated.

“Saw you get into it a while ago.” Again the bone-melting smile flashed as he admitted, “I was watching out my window when you left.”

“Sheriff…I don’t know what you want, but—”

“You know, I just got my butt chewed out for about ten minutes by Benny’s grandmother for letting you get Benny away from me. You owe me a few minutes of your time.”

Lisa could not help but smile at the image of that short old woman raking Quinn Sutton over the coals. “Sorry. I’ve met the wrath of Señora Fuentes myself.”

“Look, Ms. Mendoza…” Quinn leaned across the table, looking into Lisa’s eyes. Lisa found it difficult to look away. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was thinking that maybe we could start all over again. If you knew me better, you might find out that I’m not such an ogre.”

“I am sure you are not,” Lisa agreed easily. “However, I see little use in getting to know you, as you say. We are on opposite sides, and—”

“We’re not so far apart as you think,” he put in quickly. “I realize that you don’t think so, but I have Benny Hernandez’s best interests at heart.”

Lisa leaned back against the padded seat of the booth, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows expressively. “You do?”

“Yes, I do. I don’t know what you’re used to. Obviously you come from the city somewhere. San Antonio? Houston?”

“Dallas.”

He nodded. “Well, things are different here. I don’t look on the sheriff’s job as getting criminals so much as protecting the people of the town. People like Señora Fuentes, for instance. And her grandson, little as you would like to believe it. I am trying to help Benny.”

“I see. So you are sort of the Great White Father of Angel Eye, is that it? Protecting all the poor and ignorant Mexicans, even if it means incarcerating them illegally.”

Sutton’s jaw tightened. “You know, you’ve got a hell of a chip on your shoulder—especially considering the fact that I can speak Spanish better than you can.”

Fury spurted up in Lisa at his words. She grabbed her purse and scooted out of the booth, sending a flashing angry glance at him before striding quickly out of the restaurant.

As she strode across the parking lot, she heard his bootsteps on the pavement behind her, but she ignored him, marching straight to her car. He caught up with her before she reached it, grasping her arm and pulling her to a halt.

Lisa spun around, jerking her arm from his grasp. Her skin seemed to burn where he had touched it, and her anger was fueled by the fact that his nearness, his touch, made her feel weak in the knees. “Let go of me! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry. Don’t go storming off. I’m trying to explain things to you. I’m trying to make amends.”

“You’re doing a really lousy job of it.”

“I know,” he agreed ruefully. “I seem to have a knack for offending you. Please, ignore what I said. You’re off base in saying that I’m acting out of prejudice, but I understand why you’d feel that way. This isn’t about singling Benny Hernandez out because he’s a Latino. Maybe I’m too paternal in the way I feel about this town, but it isn’t only regarding the Mexican-American community. I have a duty to help the people of this town, to protect them. That’s what I was elected to do. That’s why I haul the kids I catch drinking and driving down to the jail, not because I enjoy hassling drunk teenagers or causing their parents grief, but because I want them to think before they do it next time. I don’t want to have to scrape them up off the road.”

“No doubt that’s admirable. But we are not talking about a drunken teenager here. We’re talking about a trumped-up charge, and I don’t care if Benny’s grandmother wanted you to teach him a lesson or whatever, you violated that young man’s rights.”

“It isn’t always that black and white,” he responded tightly. Quinn truthfully had come to apologize and make things right with Lisa. He had been thinking about her ever since she’d left the courthouse this afternoon, and when he had spotted her car in the parking lot of the Moonstone, it had seemed a heaven-sent opportunity to make a fresh start with her. But somehow, as before, he had wound up right back in an argument with her. And, as before, his loins tightened involuntarily at the sight of her, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with fury, her curvaceous body thrumming with tension.

What was it about this woman that made him respond at the basest level? She filled him with the hot lust to subdue her, to kiss her until she melted beneath him, her fury transforming into passion beneath his touch. He balled his hands into fists and tried to shove down the distinctly erotic images that were flooding his mind.

“Will you let me explain to you?” he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

“Please do.” Lisa crossed her arms over her chest and waited, her gaze challenging.

“Look. I’m going to be straight with you. Benny’s grandmother came to me because she was worried about him. He’s gotten into a few scrapes with the law over the years, but he’s not a bad kid. But because of his father and stepfather and her own son Pablo, she’s worried about him. She called me and told me that he’s hanging out with a bad bunch of guys. He used to work over here at the Moonstone, busing tables, but then he quit and now he doesn’t have any job. But he never asks her for money, not for clothes or gas or burgers or anything. Where is he getting his money? And he’s gone a lot. She tells me that she thinks his friends are a bad influence, especially this kid named Paco.

“Now, it so happens that this Paco is frequently seen at a house in town where suspicious things are going on. When she told me Benny was hanging with Paco it worried me, too. I’ve been keeping a close eye on this house and you know what? Now I’ve seen Benny over there, too.”

“That’s it?” Lisa asked. “You’ve seen him at some other house? Where suspicious things are going on? What suspicious things? And he has a friend that his grandmother doesn’t like?”

“I can’t tell you what’s going on at this house. I’m not even sure yet myself. But I can pretty much guarantee you that it isn’t legal. There are a lot of kids coming and going at this house, and only some of them are from Angel Eye. That outside element adds something serious to it.”

“This sounds extremely vague. You have no evidence of a crime.”