Page 110
Tires on gravel.
We pull apart, both of us looking toward the road.
“Shit.” I tense at the sight of a big black SUV coming down the dirt drive. Following behind it, a cop car.
A car door opens and shuts. Mayor Rogan Hale steps out. He stalks forward, dressed in a black suit and shiny red cowboy boots.
What the fuck is he doing here?
Seconds later, Craddock exits his cruiser, leaning back against it and crossing his arms.
My hackles bristle, hardening my voice. “You here on official mayor business? Or do they not pay you enough back at city hall?”
“Funny thing about being at the city hall. You hear things.” Hale settles in front of us. “And I heard you’re having a party.” His tone is easy and smug.
My gaze moves to Delilah, her own locked on Hale, her brows furrowed together like she already doesn’t trust the man. Good girl.
“Heard right.”
Hale’s gaze surveys the field, then Delilah. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Delilah crosses her arms, and I glance at Hale. “Say your piece, Rogan. Then get the fuck off my property.”
“Now I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid I come with some.”
“What’s that?”
“You need a permit, filed in the city hall at least seventy-five days prior to any special event taking place.”
A hitch of breath beside me.
The last thing I want this bastard to do is rain on Delilah’s parade. She’s so proud of everything she’s done.
“This is private property. We’ve never needed a permit before.” I stand at my full height, staring him down.
“You do now. New rule. Went into effect last year. Notified all local businesses, in fact.”
“We never got it.”
“Shame.” With a heavy exhale, he shakes his head. “Must have gotten lost in the mail.”
His subtext reads loud and clear. We were never meant to get it.
How fucking convenient.
“That’s a bullshit move, Hale.”
“Wish I could help, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it.” He sucks his lip as he checks his watch. “Seeing as how your party is Labor Day weekend, I’m afraid yesterday was the deadline to acquire a permit. I’m afraid any party plans you have, no matter how sentimental…” His lip curls. “Well, looks like they’re canceled.”
Rage, quick and hot, sears.
“You piece of fucking shit.” I advance, clenching a fist, the urge to hit him never too far off.
“Cole.”
A hand ghosts over my arm. Delilah’s soft touch has me standing down. Has the dark rage threatening to take me under dissipating.
“I’m so glad you said that, mayor, because I obtained one last month.” Delilah smiles and bats her eyes. Hale’s face instantly pales. “I can pull it from the distillery if you need to see it.”
