Mugshots & Secret Obsessions
“Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t my favorite repeat offender,” I drawl.
Birdie glares at me from the wooden bench inside the jail cell. Her pink overalls are rumpled, and the floral bandana she’s wearing has shifted, letting loose strands fall around her flushed face.
She points a finger in my direction. “If you’re responsible for this, I’m totally putting glitter in your body wash the next time I’m at the ranch,Deputy.”
Damn, she’s sexy as hell when she’s riled up.
I stifle a laugh as I fold my arms across my chest. “You’re awfully mouthy for someone behind bars.”
Birdie stands and crosses the small space, tipping her chin to peer up at me through the metal bars separating us. Her head barely reaches my chest, but her glare is downright lethal.
“And you’re awfully smelly for someone who just started their shift.”
I frown and subtly sniff the collar of my shirt, instantly wrinkling my nose. I guess mucking stalls before coming in for my shift wasn’t the best idea. But skipping it would’ve earned me a lecture from Heath, and after a busy week of filing disorderly conduct reports, chasing down old man Grady’s runaway pigs again, and breaking up bar fights fueled by cheap whiskey, I’ve run out of patience to deal with my brother.
“So… you playing good or bad cop this morning?” Birdie chirps.
The corner of my mouth quirks up. “That depends. You have anything you want to confess?”
I had nothing to do with her ending up in here, and I fully intend to let her go—but it’s one of the rare moments I get to be alone with her, and I’m not about to waste it.
“Nope,” Birdie replies, popping the P. “Why don’t you be a gentleman and break me out of this joint?” She lightly raps the lock with her knuckles.
I chuckle, adjusting the brim of my cowboy hat. “Now why would I do that when we’re having so much fun together?”
She shrugs. “Because friendship comes with built-in jailbreak privileges.”
Her use of the word “friendship” makes me wince.
“Even if they’re guilty as sin?” I walk over to the desk in the corner and grab Birdie’s file. “Trespassing and stealing farm animals aren’t exactly minor offenses. Who’s to say if I let you go that you wouldn’t nab an unsuspecting goat on your way home?”
She rolls her eyes. “As deputy sheriff, you should know that Montana doesn’t have many stray goats roaming thecountryside. And for the record, it’s rescuing, not stealing,” she adds, raising a finger for emphasis. “Those animals were neglected, and someone had to step in before it was too late.”
I arch a brow. “That sounded an awful lot like a confession.”
One I’d reject even if she came clean, but Birdie’s too clever to jeopardize the animal sanctuary she runs out of her house.
“What?N-no,” she stammers. “I’m just saying that whoever did was probably trying to protect them. Everyone at the fair could see how miserable they looked. The baby cow had a limp, and the donkey had the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen… uh, at least that’s what I heard,” she corrects herself. “If that’s the case, it would have been cruel to split them up at auction—or worse, to let someone send them to the slaughterhouse.” She blows out a long breath, briefly closing her eyes.
Birdie’s reaction isn’t surprising. She’s fiercely protective of vulnerable animals and has a reputation for going to great lengths to keep them safe. Even when it lands her in a cold jail cell overnight. Though since her dad’s the sheriff, she normally gets off with a slap on the wrist.
Mason really screwed up bringing her in. It’s only his second week on the job, and he should have known better. Lucky for him, Sheriff Matterson has been out of town all week—but unlucky for him, I’m just as protective of Birdie, and he’ll quickly learn what happens when he treats her like a common criminal. My blood boils just thinking about him hauling her in here. If he had used cuffs, I’d be sitting in a cell of my own for teaching him a hard lesson about touching what’s mine.
Okay, she’s technically not mineyet, but anyone who crosses her will have to answer to me.
I pull Birdie’s mugshot from her file, taken when Mason brought her in last night. She stands straight, facing the camera with an unapologetic smile like she’s posing for a Christmas card instead of a booking photo. Even now, with fatigue dulling hereyes and loose strands of hair clinging to her cheeks, she’s the kind of beautiful that makes my chest tighten.
I hold out the mugshot so Birdie can see it through the bars. “This little gem is prime blackmail material, don’t you think? I bet Charlie would give anything to get her hands on this.”
Charlie is one of her best friends. She’s a total firecracker and has a weakness for town gossip.
Birdie snorts. “Try it, and I’ll tell everyone about the time you got spooked by a mouse in the tack room and screamed like a girl.”
A smirk tugs at my lips as I fold the paper into fourths and tuck it into my shirt pocket. As fun as it is to tease her, I have no intention of letting anyone else see her mugshot.
“Can’t do that if I keep you locked up.”
