Curves and the Sheriff (BBW Romance - Coldwater Springs 2)

Curves
and the Sheriff (BBW Romance - Coldwater Springs 2)

by

Jenn
Roseton

Copyright
© 2013 by Jenn Roseton

All
rights reserved

No
part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by
any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the
copyright owner and publisher of this book.

This
is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are
the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

This
is a sexy contemporary romance novelette.

Cover
Art by
Diana
Carlile

Libby checked her watch
as she drove past the sign welcoming her to Coldwater Springs. Three
o’clock. Not bad, considering she’d left Laramie at
lunchtime
and stopped for gas along the way.

She
smiled to herself as the frosty outskirts of the small town whizzed
by. A new year and a new beginning were exactly what she needed.
And she couldn’t wait to catch up with Sarah.

She’d
missed her cousin since she’d moved back to Coldwater Springs
five months ago. It had been fun hanging out with Sarah in Laramie,
where they’d both lived and worked. Then Sarah lost her job
and had been fortunate enough to find one in her hometown - as well
as the man of her dreams. Libby hoped that one day she would be as
lucky.

A
siren wailed in the distance and became louder. She checked her
rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of her green-flecked hazel eyes
and curly blond hair in the process. Her eyes widened as she saw the
sheriff’s vehicle on her tail. The driver
made no
attempt to pass her, instead dogging her small SUV with an intensity
that unnerved her. Libby checked her speed - just under the speed
limit, thank goodness. So why was the sheriff right behind her?

Sighing,
she slowed down and pulled over. Once she’d come to a complete
stop, she turned off the ignition and placed her hands on the
steering wheel. And waited.

Libby
glanced in her rear-view mirror. The officer spoke into a hand-held
radio and she clenched her hands around the steering wheel, telling
herself to be patient.
“
Come on,” she muttered.
She’d planned to move in to her furnished cottage today and
Sarah was coming by to help.

The
officer stepped out of his vehicle and approached. Tall, with dark
brown hair under his western hat, his measured strides told her he
meant business. His broad shoulders filled out a zipped up tan
jacket, while dark trousers and boots completed his outfit.

Libby
reluctantly wound down the window. Why on earth had he stopped her?

“
Ma’am,
I need you to step out of the car.” His deep voice held a hint
of gravel.

“
What’s
wrong, officer?” She frowned as she waited for his answer.

“
Just
step out of the car, ma’am.”

Libby
looked into his dark brown eyes. Hard. Implacable.
Her
heart started to pound. She hadn’t done anything wrong, so why
was she feeling scared?

Unfastening
her seatbelt, she reluctantly opened the door and exited the vehicle
.
Standing on the hard-packed gravel shoulder, she looked up at
him. He dwarfed her height of five foot five by a good six or seven
inches.

“
Where
have you come from today, ma’am?” he asked curtly.

“
Laramie.”
She guessed he called every female he met ma’am, but it
grated. Did she look like a ma’am at twenty-six? Considering
he looked to be in his mid-thirties, it seemed particularly galling.
Smoothing down her sky blue swing car coat over her curves, she
waited for his response
.

“
Two
hundred miles away.” He pointed at her car. “Is this
your vehicle?”

“
Yes.”
She spied the gold star emblazoned with SHERIFF on his chest.
“Sheriff.” Maybe if she was super polite to him, she
’
d
be on her way in a minute or so.

“
Where
are you headed to?”

“
Coldwater
Springs.” She decided to ask him a question. “Was I
speeding?”

“
No.”

“
Then
why--”

“
I’ll
ask the questions, ma’am.” A muscle ticked in his strong
jaw. His nose looked like it had been broken at one stage, but it
suited his tough good looks.

Libby
raised an eyebrow at his tone. Fine. She’d let him ask the
questions. But she wished he would hurry up.

“
Do
you have the paperwork to prove you’re the owner of this
vehicle?”

“
Yes.”
She wrinkled her brow, trying to think where the registration papers
were.

“
I’ll
need to see it.”

His
gruff voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She bit her lip, trying
to think where the registration papers were. In the dash? Or in her
file folder where she kept important papers - the file folder now
bundled in one of the boxes in the backseat.

“
They
might be in the glove compartment.” Libby hoped they were - it
would be too embarrassing if she had to search through the boxes in
the back while he watched her every move.

“
Stay
here, ma’am.” The lawman pierced her with a hard stare
before opening the driver’s door of her vehicle. He took the
keys out of the ignition and then opened the glove compartment,
conveying the impression that although he was focused on his search,
he would know the instant she moved a muscle.

Her
shoulders tensed as she watched him search for the paperwork. Why
had he pulled her over?

“
Are
you Libby Grant?” He looked up from the piece of paper he held
in his hand.

“
Yes.”
She swallowed - hard. He looked at her as if she were
a
criminal.

“
I’m
going to have to take you in for questioning.”

“
What?”
She forced the words past her parched throat. What on earth was
going on?

Not
a flicker of emotion passed over his face. “This vehicle is
the same make and model as one reported stolen from Laramie this
morning.”

Libby
paled. “You - you can’t be serious.” Her legs
trembled and she badly wanted to sit down. This couldn’t be
happening.

“
I’ll
take you down to the sheriff’s department and we can get this
straightened out.” His words might sound reasonable but she
knew just from the way he looked at her that he’d already
judged and convicted her.

“
But
I have ID in my wallet,” she protested.

“
We’ll
look at that once we’re at the station,” he informed her.
He grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, then slid his hand
under her elbow to escort her to his vehicle.

Her
stomach fluttered at the slight contact and she felt him hesitate for
a split second before he shepherded
her to his SUV
.

“
I
don’t understand.” She reluctantly sat in the back seat,
thankful that at least he hadn’t handcuffed her. She crossed
her arms in front of her chest.

“
We
can talk about it once we’re back at the station.” He
checked that she had her seatbelt on and turned on the ignition.

“
But
what about my car? It’s got all my stuff in it!”

“
It’s
secure for now.” Libby decided to save her breath at his
clipped tone. Once they got to the station, she would demand to call
Sarah, and hopefully this ridiculous misunderstanding would get
straightened out right away.

Twenty
minutes later, Libby found herself sitting in a drab gray
interrogation room. At least, that’s what she supposed you
would call it, the only furniture being a scratched table and two
chairs. She wriggled around on the hard metal seat, trying to get
comfortable. The sheriff had deposited her in here and told her he
would be back in a few minutes. Those minutes felt like hours.

The
door finally opened and he walked in. She couldn’t help but
look up at him. It was so unfair. How could he be so hunkalicious
when he had a big stick up his butt?

He
took the seat on the opposite side of the desk. Her eyes focused on
his broad chest before moving upwards to study his face. She
couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her. If only they
had met in different circumstances - and he wasn’t so uptight.
She signed inwardly, telling herself not to go there. Over the
years, she’d found out from experience that most men preferred
skinny girls. Why would this man be any different?

“
Miss
Grant, I need to ask you some questions.”

His
brusque tone pulled her out of her thoughts. Should she answer his
questions? Or should she ask for a lawyer? She was innocent of
whatever he thought she’d done. Would asking for a lawyer make
her look guilty?

“
You’re
not under arrest at this stage.”

“
Good,”
she blurted out. She saw a tiny flicker on his face that could be
classed as the beginning of a smile. He quickly masked it.

“
How
long have you had the car you were driving today?”

“
Two
years. I have the loan paperwork in one of my boxes in the
backseat.”

“
With
your permission, I’d like to see that paperwork.”

“
Sure.”
If he could see for a fact that the car wasn’t stolen, he’d
let her go. Wouldn’t he?

“
Why
did you come to Coldwater Springs?” His eyes watched her
carefully, as if he would know the instant she thought of lying to
him.

“
I’m
moving here. The library where I worked at in Laramie had its
funding cut, so when my cousin told me about the assistant librarian
position here, I applied for it.”

“
And
you got the job?”

“
I
start work at the library on Monday.” She began to smile at
the thought of hanging out with Sarah again before remembering that
he was the enemy.

He
shifted in his seat and she realized her reply had surprised him.
“I’ll have to verify that.”

“
Of
course,” she replied sweetly.

“
Just
so you know, this morning we received an APB for a stolen car of your
make and model. A notorious female con-artist is said to be driving
it.
I’ll be checking out your story very carefully.”

“
Go
ahead, sheriff.” Libby folded her arms in front of her chest.
Did he really think she was a con-artist? A
notorious
con-artist? Seriously?

He
rose from the table. “You’ll be staying in here while I
make my enquiries.”

How
long would it take him to do that? She‘d just bet he would
take longer than necessary, just because he could. Libby didn‘t
want to stay in that room one second longer than she had to. “When
do I get my phone call?”

He
paused at the door. “Phone call?”

“
Aren’t
I entitled to one?”

He
arched a brow. “Once I check out the information you’ve
given me.”

“
Wouldn’t
it be easier if I just called my cousin? She’s helping me move
in today.”

He
rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s your cousin’s
name?”