Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Me: Fine. Hi, Dad.
I pocket my phone, holding in a sigh. The last thing I want to do is have dinner with a woman and give her the wrong idea, but maybe it’s what I need. It’s not like I haven’t dated since high school, I’ve just dated the wrong sex. Going out with a woman, and occasionally falling into bed with her, to try and convince myself I can get over the whole thing with Kian, has been the only times in the past eleven years I didn’t feel so alone. A gay man can perform sexually with a woman if he’s desperate enough.
Shameful.
I’m disgusted with myself that I can’t man up and come out to the whole damn world. I’m gay. I’ve loved Kian Abrams as more than a friend since I was seventeen years old. If I could just bite the bullet and claim him, he might give me a second chance. The string of guys I know he’s dated over the years will prove to be meaningless when he has me back in his arms.
“Are we going to talk about the Rainbow Vigilante or keep dancing around the fact that our town is being vandalized?” Ned Townsend, president of BFB Bank & Trust, asks, his beady eyes on me. “Hmm, Sheriff?”
All eyes fall to me and I try not to squirm.
“Ned,” I grind out. “I told you if you want to make an official report, come down to the station and do it. The Chamber meeting isn’t the time or place for it.”
“I, personally, think it’s cute,” Cato offers. “They’re rainbows. Who doesn’t love rainbows?”
Ned scowls. “I don’t. Rainbows are for fagg—”
“What rainbows?” Dante barks out, cutting off the old man’s hateful remark, saving me from having to do so. “Where are they?”
Fran, our local coffee shop owner, perks up. “I got one.” She grins at Dante. “It’s about a foot high and two feet wide. Just above my big shop window. Honestly, I’ve gotten nothing but compliments about it.”
Ned grumbles. “Paul doesn’t share your sentiments.”
“Paul is an idiot,” Fran throws back, making her best friend Martha Joy giggle.
“Who’s Paul?” Dante asks, his narrowed hazel eyes bouncing between Fran and Ned.
“Paul Hayes is the owner of the BFB Daily Herald,” Cato explains. “The Rainbow Vigilante left a rainbow on his window.”
“And he had to pay to have it scraped off,” Ned exclaims, his face turning red from anger. “Just like Fran will have to do to have her shop repainted!”
“Oh, no,” Fran argues. “I’m keeping it. Super charming and welcoming.”
“I agree, honey,” Martha Joy chirps. “Maybe the Rainbow Vigilante will do something about my front window too.”
Before Ned can argue, I lift a hand, cutting him off. “If you want to make a statement, go see Brie,” I grind out. That’ll get her bratty ass back for giving me the Mr. Clementine call earlier. “If we’ve covered everything, then this meeting is adjourned. Cato will email the meeting minutes and update everyone on the Lobster Crawl suggestions.”
Everyone stands, dutifully shaking hands before dispersing. I’m left with Cato lingering at my side, Kian scowling at me, and Dante throwing a maddening smirk my way.
“Kian,” Dante rumbles, his voice smooth and alluring. “Do you have a minute?”
And like Kian’s caught on a hook, Dante reels him his way with a motion of his hand and a charming smile. All I can do is glare at him.
Dante
Welcome to Brigs Ferry Bay…
My sister failed to mention the adorable twink population. It’s like she doesn’t even know me. Kian is the kind of guy I want to drag into my lap and make purr like a kitten. Hell, I’ll even invite his cute friend, Cato, too. A boy for each thigh. A dick for each of my hands. I can tell I’m going to enjoy the…scenery. That’s for damned sure.
“What’s up?” Kian asks, his hazel orbs bright and curious.
Before I reply, I dart my eyes over to the growly, seriously hot sheriff. He doesn’t put off gay vibes, but he’s sure as hell protective over Kian. Too bad he doesn’t swing my way. I’d love to bend his mean ass over the back of a squad car and show him who the real sheriff in this town is. As though the bastard can read my thoughts, his piercing brown eyes pin me in place.
Fuck, he’s intense.
Angry. Jaded. Grumpy as hell.
Sheriff Bell is the poster child for Brigs Ferry Bay. All rugged, masculine beauty from his sexily wind-tousled hair to the lazy scruff growing on his cheeks to the prominent Adam’s apple that’s distracting as fuck each time he swallows. His dark jeans are worn and well-broken in. The large scuffed-up black boots on his feet are a good indicator of what size dick he’s packing. The fitted, navy long-sleeved shirt with SHERIFF emblazoned across the front screams manly mountain town cop who’s probably a filthy bastard who’s not afraid to wield the shiny handcuffs hooked to his belt.