Hot as Heller by Lucy Lennox
1
Declan
“But, Sheriff—”
“But nothing, Penny,” I told my dispatcher over my earpiece as I strode down the sidewalk in the center of Aster Valley one bright June morning. “I don’t care how nicely the Gold Rats production team asks, we are not closing down Cade Road on short notice for them to film a high-speed chase. The movie people have disrupted things enough around here.”
They’d disrupted me enough.
I’d left Los Angeles for this tiny Colorado town six months ago for a reason, and that was to get as far away from Hollywood and its players as I could. But now, here they were. Like a fungus I couldn’t get rid of.
Especially the one exceptionally entitled actor I’d had a run-in with the night before.
Finn Heller.
The man had a face that belonged on the big screen, alright—a face that had been awfully hard to get out of my mind when I tossed and turned in bed last night—but his ego had been bigger than Rockley Mountain, leading me to believe that all the rumors I’d read about him were true.
He was a spoiled brat. A troublemaker. A party boy. A child-star-turned-adult-wannabe. The personification of everything I’d hoped to escape when I’d fled LA.
I’d been minding my own business at a friend’s party when the kid had asked me to valet his car, for god’s sake.
So, no, that movie crew wasn’t getting another damn concession out of me.
“Penny, I’ve gotta go. Meeting the new deputy.”
“Tell him I say hi,” she said before clicking off. “And if he’s cute, maybe ask him out. I could stand an office romance to spice things up around here.”
“That’s not happening. Ever,” I assured her.
“Morning, Sheriff Stone!” Chaya called out from behind the counter as I stepped inside the coffee shop. “How’s it going?”
It was such a sweet, simple thing, being greeted by name. I still hadn’t quite gotten used to it in the months I’d lived in Aster Valley, Colorado, but I liked to think I was getting there.
“I’m doing just fine. Ravenous, though.”
“Well, we can take care of that.” She nodded toward a table near the window and lowered her voice just a fraction. “New deputy’s waiting on you. Punctual, which is great, but straight and single, which isn’t great for you. Great for me, though…”
What was with these people? I didn’t need a man. And… she’d learned all that in five minutes? His dating status and that he was straight, too?
I blinked, opened my mouth to—Jesus, I didn’t even know what. Offer Chaya a job getting hardened criminals to confess?—then closed it again. No, I definitely wasn’t getting used to small-town living anytime soon.
“I’ll be over in just a second to take your order,” she added brightly.
“Great. Cup of coffee, black, if you don’t mind?” I suddenly wondered what my beverage order said about my integrity, but I reminded myself that I’d already proven that.
In fact, I’d proven it more than once.
“Deputy Graham? I’m Declan Stone.” I offered him a welcoming smile and reached out a hand to shake. He stood up to take it, and his grip was warm and firm. “Nice to meet you in person finally. Hope you didn’t mind meeting me here. I was thinking an informal breakfast meeting would be a great way to welcome you to town. How was the move?”
Shawn Graham had come strongly recommended by a friend in the FBI, who’d worked with the officer on a missing persons case down in Durango. From everything I’d seen in his application and on his resume, we were lucky to get him.
He gave me an affable smile. “A pain in the ass the way you’d expect, but please call me Shawn, Sheriff. Everyone else does.”
I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. “And I’m Declan. The sheriff thing’s still fairly new.”
“Yeah, I heard about the trouble with your predecessor.” Shawn took his seat.
“You heard,huh?” I gave him a sharp look, and the man looked a little embarrassed. “Didn’t know the news had traveled as far as Durango.”
“Well, my brother is chief of police over in Meeker. Jay Graham. Maybe you know him? Anyway,” he hurried on when I shook my head, “when I told him I was looking at a job here, he gave me a rundown on the whole extortion plot Sheriff Stanner cooked up, and how a couple of the deputies were involved. Small department like Aster Valley’s, losing part of the force like that had to be a blow.”
He said this so sympathetically, it was impossible to take offense. And besides, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have gotten the rundown from Chaya or a dozen other Aster Vallians within the next twenty-four hours.
“It was hard on the whole town,” I admitted. “Building back trust in the department is our primary goal these days.”
“Must’ve been tough on you personally, too, after you dealt with almost the same thing back in LA.”
I gave him another sharp look. “More information from your brother?”
“Nah.” He shrugged sheepishly and wiggled his fingers in the air like he was typing on an imaginary keyboard. “Google. I wanted to find out more about my new boss.”
I chuckled. I’d have done the exact same.
In fact, I had, back when I’d first accepted the job. Too bad Google didn’t tell you when your boss was a biased asshole. Good riddance to that one, but now I had to fill the shoes.
“Didn’t expect to find court transcripts, though,” he continued, sipping his coffee calmly. “Is it true your partner—?”
“If you read the transcripts,” I interrupted, “you know all there is to know. I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same to you.” The movie crew in town had dredged up enough LA memories.
Shawn nodded. “Sure thing.”
Chaya bustled over to our table with a mug of coffee for me and took out her notepad with a flourish and a smile. “What’ll it be?”
“Croissant sandwich,” I said without hesitation. To Shawn, I added, “Aster Valley insider secret: you have got to try these things. They make the croissants from scratch, the bacon is perfectly crispy, and they’re the best breakfast food in town. I have one at least a couple times a week. I always know it’s gonna be a good day when I do.” I was practically drooling.
Chaya’s smile faltered. “Well, hell, Sheriff. We’re out of croissants this morning.”
“Out,” I repeated. I looked around the nearly empty cafe. “Out?”
“Out.” She rubbed her lips together. “Gold Rats got them all.”
I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose.
Of course they fucking did.
“Gold Rats went and cleaned out all the fairy lights at the hardware store,” Curtis Twomey piped up from the line at the counter. “Not sure what they’re doing with ’em, but I sold out all my stock from last Christmas.” He sounded positively gleeful.
“And Gold Rats took every single one of Connie Mac’s begonias!” Florence Wimple interjected happily from the table behind us. “Even the half-dead ones.”
Wilber Wimple scowled at his wife. “Well, I’ve had just about enough of Gold Rats. They’re a menace. Clogging our streets like they own the damn place. Do you know, I was fifteen minutes late for Judge Judy the other day, because the Gold Rats had blocked off half the road out by Rockley Lodge?”
“I could offer you gentlemen a sandwich on a brioche bun.” Chaya’s flirty grin tried to make up for the terrible croissant news. “Or… toast?”
“A brioche bun would be terrific,” I lied with a smile. “Nearly the same thing, right?”
It was not even remotely the same thing. One more thing to hate about Gold freakin’ Rats invading Aster Valley.
“Uh.” Shawn frowned as Chaya hurried away. “I’m gonna guess they’re not talking about actual rodents?”
“Huh?” I was still busy backing up my salt truck over this latest outrage. “What rodents?”
“The Gold Rats. Help me out here. Are they a motorcycle club? A gang that… traffics fairy lights and begonias?”
I snorted, unwillingly amused. “Worse,” I informed him. “They’re a movie crew. A big blockbuster action-adventure film with the worst, weirdest name ever, and some big-name director and a bunch of party-hungry actors.”
“I don’t know about that,” Mrs. Winple said. “Crystobell Edmund signed an autograph for me the other day, and she was lovely. Beautiful, poised, and gracious.”
I drank my coffee and acknowledged this with a grunt. Too bad Crystobell’s male counterpart had been an absolute pain in my ass the night before.
“Sheriff.” The sound of Penny’s voice in my earpiece almost made me jump. “10-91. Report of a wild animal attack over on Thistledown. System says you’re up.”
“Yeah, alright. Send us the address,” I told her. “Shawn, you mind taking breakfast to go?”
When we got out to my vehicle a minute later with our sandwiches, I asked Penny, “Any idea what kind of animal?”
“Man was freaking out. Sounds like maybe a bear? If so, we can call Charlene Candycorn. There’s no better trapper in Rockley County.”
There was quaint small town, and then there was Candycorn.
“Did you say Charlene Candycorn?”
“No, sir. Well, yes, but not like you think. Charlene Candy married Clara Corn.”
I sighed. This was the price I paid for leaving LA. There’d been pros and cons, and sometimes the cons were doozies. “And they became Charlene and Clara Candy-Corn.”
“Not really. They kept their own last names, but after the divorce, Charlene fell in love with Clara’s brother.”
Welp, that’s what I got for asking. “Listen, Penny. I’m going to stop you right there. Shawn and I have about three minutes to choke our breakfast sandwiches down before dealing with a potentially rabid bear, okay? You can tell us about Charlene later.” Or not.
“Yes, sir. Good luck. And hi, Shawn! Welcome to Aster Valley! Oh, and also?”
“Yeah?” I said around a mouthful of sandwich.
“Bears can get rabies, of course, since they’re warm-blooded. But it’s rare, and there’s no recorded case of a human catching it from one. You should be good. Well… except for the mauling, of course.”
Yes, thank you. Except for the mauling.
The GPS directed me to a very out-of-the-way mountain road I wasn’t familiar with yet. Even though I’d been living and working in Aster Valley for over six months already, there were still plenty of areas I hadn’t had a chance to explore yet.
Thistledown Cove was one of them.
The old mountain cabin homes along the street became fewer and farther between until I got to the end. The road simply stopped in a pile of dusty pine needles and a tangle of downed branches. The gravel driveway to my right sported an old brown truck that looked about as tidy and clean as the pile of debris on the road.
I parked and reached into my glove box.
“Bear spray,” I told the deputy. My utility belt held pepper spray, but bear spray was both stronger and able to deploy over greater distances. I had no intention of getting closer to the bear than I had to.
Shawn nodded, like wild animal calls were just a part of life, and it occurred to me that growing up in Meeker, which wasn’t much bigger than Aster Valley, it probably had been.
It turned out we didn’t need to bother with the bear spray. After following high-pitched yelps and calls for help, we found our way into the cabin’s small, cluttered kitchen where a big, burly man sporting a thick, ragged beard and wide, bugged-out eyes stood on the table clutching one hand to his chest with the other.
“It bit me!” He pointed in the direction of the violent perp.
A fluffy squirrel looked at me and, swear to god, rolled its eyes as if to say, “Yeah, no shit. Drama much?”
I looked back and forth between the squirrel and the mountain man. “The squirrel bit you?”
He nodded rapidly. “Get it out! Get it out!”
“If it bit you, we need to trap it to test it for—”
“Get it out of here oh my god get it out!”
I blinked up at the big guy and wondered if there was substance abuse involved. “Sir, if we don’t have the animal tested, you’ll have to be presumed exposed to rabies. That means—”
He roared, leapt off the table, hopped over a pile of newspapers and empty cardboard boxes, and yanked open the back door before running out of it. The squirrel looked at me for a beat before bolting after him. Shawn and I exchanged a brief, incredulous glance before darting after the squirrel.
Outside, the man was now standing on a picnic table, whimpering and sniffling through tears. “Hurts like a son of a bitch.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out some gloves before asking to see his hand. Sure enough, there was a tiny bite mark on the meaty part under his thumb that was welling an impressive amount of blood.
“You’re going to have to go in for treatment. I really wish you’d let us trap him.” I peeled off the gloves and called dispatch to give them an update. “The first shot has to be given as soon as possible. Come on. I’ll drive you. Save you the cost of an ambulance ride.”
On the ride to the hospital, I asked the man—turns out his name was Coleman—what had happened.
“You see, it’s like this,” he began, hugging his now bandaged hand to his chest. “I love animals. I do. So, sometimes I like to feed them, you know? Just do a little something nice for my fellow creatures. And I have a raccoon that comes around. I call him Jolly. Well, Jolly is pretty particular about his breakfast foods.”
Why did I ask? This was like the Candy-Corn story all over again.
But in the passenger’s seat, Shawn was nodding along, like picky raccoons named Jolly were all in a day’s work.
“He likes berries, but only if I serve them with something else, like chicken or mice or frogs.”
Welp, that escalated quickly.
“And this morning, I sprinkled some nuts over the top. So, really, it’s my own damned fault. Squirrels like nuts, you know?”
I nodded solemnly. “So it seems.”
He shrugged. “I left the door open because I like to watch and see if Jolly likes his breakfast. We have kind of a… camaraderie, you could say.”
I bit my tongue against pointing out Jolly represented the largest rabies risk to him among his menagerie. No raccoon friendship was worth a fatal rabies infection.
“But then, easy as you please, in comes this jackass squirrel. As if I’d prepared him a meal or something.”
As if. The gall of that wild animal pursuing nourishment. Quelle surprise.
Once again, I wanted to say many, many things. But I figured none of them would help. I kept my mouth shut and let him get his story out.
“So then I tried to grab him to take him outside, and that’s when he bit me.”
I glanced over at him to see if I was being played. “You… tried to grab a wild squirrel. With your bare hand?”
He set his jaw and nodded. “Little punk-ass needed to be taught a lesson.”
Oh, now he was Mister Big Scary Mountain Man. Mm-hm.
I asked him a few more questions, gently suggested he change his wildlife feeding habits, and wished him well in his intense two weeks of treatment. When we finally handed him off to the friendly intake personnel at the hospital, I sat in my vehicle and typed up the incident before laughing to myself.
Potentially rabid wild animal attacks weren’t common in Los Angeles, but it was nice to know both human hubris and fear were universal.
“You handled that well,” I told Shawn as we headed back to town. He’d grabbed us some fresh coffee from the cafeteria while I’d written the report. “I’m guessing you’ll be right at home here. Did you miss exciting stuff like this in a bigger town? Is that why you moved away from Durango?”
He smiled. “Partly. I wanted to move closer to my family,” he admitted. “But I have no desire to work for Jay, so I couldn’t move back to Meeker. This was the next best thing. As you can imagine, my mother is thrilled I’m a little closer. I’ll be able to go on the father/son annual fishing trip again. And don’t be surprised if the entire Graham clan turns up in the department one day to meet everyone, and if she tries matchmaking everyone in sight distance, I apologize in advance.”
“You’re a bigger man than I,” I admitted. “My parents live in LA, and I’m enjoying the distance. They’re wonderful but very opinionated.”
Shawn’s laughter was warm and easy. “Well, to be honest, Jay being chief of police isn’t the only reason I didn’t want to go back to Meeker. My mom truly is hell-bent on getting grandkids. And dating any of the women in Meeker would be like dating one of my sisters. No, thanks. Being an hour away is just about perfect as far as I’m concerned. I only hope it won’t take too long to make some friends here. I don’t care about the dating scene so much as having folks I can kick back and enjoy a beer with. It never really happened for me in Durango, even after five years of trying.”
“Then I’d guess you’d better come with me to Pie Hole tonight. I’ll introduce you around.” I closed my laptop and made sure I had my phone and keys. “You like football?”
His grin widened. “Hell yeah. Cowboys all the way, baby.”
I shook my head. “Tonight you’re a Houston Riggers fan, I’m afraid. Tonight’s a going-away thing for Tiller Raine. He’s headed to Texas for the preseason tomorrow.”
The look on Shawn’s face was priceless. “Tiller Raine? The Tiller Raine? Heisman winner and Super Bowl MVP?”
Maybe being friends with celebrities wasn’t quite so bad.
As long as they weren’t Hollywood actors.
“Yeah. He and his boyfriend got engaged last night, so I guess we’re celebrating that, too.”
“No shit? That’s awesome. I read an article about them buying a place in Colorado, but I didn’t put two and two together it was Aster Valley.”
I spent the short drive explaining that Mikey and Tiller had purchased Rockley Lodge and the old, defunct ski mountain in hopes of reviving it and reopening it in the future.
“It’s part of why they agreed to let this film crew come in and film on location here,” I said, stifling a sigh. “They’re hoping to start getting some positive media coverage about the place. The ski mountain was closed down twenty years ago after an unfortunate accident, and they want to replace those old stories with some new, feel-good ones.”
“Oh man, I’d love to live in a ski town. I’m not great at it, but I’d love to learn.”
I pulled up outside the new bakery in town. “Gonna grab some donuts and bring ’em over to the fire department,” I told Shawn. “I want to thank Russ Grant and his crew for their amazing response to a false alarm over at the high school last weekend. Half the firefighters were playing a softball game in Valley Park, and they dropped everything to race over there in case any summer school kids were in the building. Thankfully, the building was empty, and the alarm had somehow been tripped accidentally. But they went above and beyond.”
“Best part of living in a small town,” Shawn said happily.
And he was so right. That was the kind of thing I should be focusing on. Not hot, entitled troublemakers. I was determined to put the movie people out of my mind entirely, and I did…
For about four minutes.
“I don’t understand,” I told Darius behind the counter. “What do you mean no bear claws?”
“I mean… we delivered them all down to the Gold Rats set. For craft services, you know? That movie has been amazing for business,” he enthused. But whatever expression he saw on my face had him licking his lips nervously. “Sorry about the bear claws, though, Sheriff.”
“Not at all. Don’t give it another thought.” It wasn’t Darius’s fault that the movie people were on a mission to destroy my breakfast and my peace of mind.
But the strikes against Gold Rats—and seriously, what was that name even about?—were adding up.
After dropping off the donuts and chatting up the firefighters for a while, Penny radioed to tell me they needed Shawn to fill out some paperwork. He and I spent the rest of the afternoon going over department protocol and housekeeping. He was easygoing but alert and attentive, and I decided I liked him.
When we joined the rest of the guys at Pie Hole, I introduced Shawn around. He played it cool with Tiller and gave his same easy smile to everyone at the large table.
“Any more trouble with the film folks since last night?” Tiller asked me once we’d ordered a couple of pitchers of beer and some pizzas.
“Not exactly.” I did not mention the breakfast food debacle.
“Wait,” Truman asked. “What happened last night?” The smaller man was tucked against his boyfriend’s side. Sam looked exhausted, and I was sure he’d been working his ass off getting the lodge and the chalets ready for the cast and crew who would be staying there for the next few weeks. As the general contractor on the lodge and ski resort project, he was undoubtedly burning the candle at both ends.
I opened my mouth to explain it was no big deal, but Chaya, who’d tagged along with Truman, leaned in and took over the story.
“That kid from Cast in Clover thought the good sheriff here was some kind of parking attendant,” she said. “Asked him to take care of his McLaren.”
A tableful of gasps surrounded me. “Oh no he did not,” Mikey said with a mischievous grin. “Finn Heller thought you were the valet?”
I shot Chaya a look. “How do you even know what happened?”
Her dark eyes danced almost as wildly as her big curly hair. “Because I heard him and his little groupie pal talking about it after you left. I was going to tell you about it this morning, but we were slammed.”
Tiller chuckled. “I hope you took that bad boy for a joyride.”
For a split second—seriously, just a sliver of a hot moment—I pictured a naked Finn Heller mounted on top of me. But then I realized Tiller had meant the car.
“No kidding,” Shawn said with eyes twinkling. “When in your life would you ever even get a chance to see a McLaren, much less drive one?”
I didn’t point out that I’d come here from the land of the douchemobiles. Expensive sports cars did absolutely nothing for me, and I’d also witnessed my fair share of them being repossessed from people who couldn’t actually afford them.
I swallowed a sip of beer. “Suffice to say, dealing with that prima donna was confirmation I did the right thing moving here,” I said lightly. “I wanted a slower pace of life, more natural beauty around me, and a town full of nice, genuine people. So far, so good on all three. Hopefully they’ll shoot their film and get gone without causing trouble along the way.”
Gentry Kane, who was a celebrity in his own right as a musician, leaned forward and clinked beer mugs with me. “Hear, hear. I found everything I ever wanted here in Aster Valley, and I don’t want the paparazzi to come in here and mess it up.”
After taking a sip of his beer, he leaned over and pressed a kiss onto his husband’s cheek. Winter blushed and turned to meet him with another kiss on the lips.
My heart did a strange twisty thing I was beginning to recognize. It was a combination of happiness and envy. I loved having so many new queer friends in town, but they all seemed to be matched up with their perfect someone already. While it was great for them, it made me more painfully aware of my single status than I usually was.
Maybe I hadn’t been completely truthful with Penny in my attitude about being single, but that still didn’t mean I wanted an office romance. It was my job to make sure the sheriff’s department was completely aboveboard. But maybe I could find someone else here in Aster Valley. Someone normal and nice.
LA had been too much of a hookup scene and not enough of a dating scene for my taste. I was almost forty. Hookups were fine, amazing even, but I wanted a partner. I wanted a family. Seeing these men and their partners made me want it even more.
“You okay, boss?” Shawn whispered from the seat next to me. “Don’t feel like you need to stick around to make me more comfortable. Your friends seem awesome.”
I opened my mouth to say they weren’t really my friends yet, but I realized that wasn’t exactly true. I’d been in Aster Valley for almost six months, and I’d known these guys for at least four of them. Even though we’d originally met through a case when I’d been a new deputy in town, these guys had gone out of their way to include me in social events ever since.
When was I going to think of myself as one of them?
I met Truman’s eyes from across the table. He frowned and mouthed, “You okay?”
I nodded quickly and turned to Shawn. “No, sorry, just feeling ornery about the meeting I have with the show runner out at the Gold Rats set in the morning. I’ll be fine. Besides, Crystobell Edmund and Logan Shaw were able to do a casual signing outside the cafe the other day without creating a crowd problem. Maybe this film situation won’t be as bad as I keep expecting. Maybe last night’s encounter was the worst of it.”
But I knew that was wishful thinking. Thankfully, Gent’s uncle Doran piped up to change the subject.
“Now, what’s this I hear about your big emergency callout today?” the older man asked with a snicker. His thick, white mustache quivered with excitement. “If I recall correctly, you said something about wanting a slower pace of life, more natural beauty, and a town full of nice, genuine people. Tell us about rescuing Coleman Harrow from a rabid grizzly squirrel. Seems to me you got the trifecta all in that one case…”
The stress banding my shoulder muscles broke apart as I remembered the mountain man’s high-pitched calls for help.
“Be careful what you wish for,” I said through my laughter after giving them the basics of the story. “If the rest of my cases can be that straightforward, I’ll be a happy sheriff.”
Shawn clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll take the dangerous ones off your shoulders. You handle the squirrels, and if that Jolly raccoon ever gets moody, just know I’ve got your back.”
We spent a couple more hours in good company, laughing, eating, and drinking before promising Tiller we would guard his fiancé with our lives while Tiller was in Houston.
When Shawn and I left everyone and headed back to the SUV, he asked why Mikey just didn’t go back to Houston with Tiller for the season.
“Someone needs to stay here and keep an eye on the cast and crew who are renting their lodge and the chalets on their property,” I explained. “In case something happens.”
Shawn shrugged. “They’re all professionals and adults. What do they think would happen while they were gone?”
I remembered the raging house party my partner had been called out to one night in Santa Monica. “Finn Heller is known for throwing out-of-control house parties,” I said. It was the understatement of the year. “And after all of the work Mikey, Tiller, and Sam have put into renovating the property, I’m sure they don’t want to see it destroyed by drunken dilettantes who have no respect for other people’s…” I realized my bias was showing. “Anyway. I get why they’d want to keep an eye out, but I know Sam has offered to watch over it for them, too.”
Shawn looked over at me. “Your friends are good people. Thank you for including me tonight. You didn’t have to do that, but I really appreciate it.”
I nodded and mumbled something to acknowledge his gratitude. They were good people, and I felt as fortunate as he did to know them.
“I remember how I felt when I first moved to town,” I told him. “It’s not easy to make the leap from deputy to friend with the locals, but once you do, you learn how great the people of Aster Valley are. Genuine, kind, and helpful. One of the few places I’ve ever found where you can be accepted as your true self without putting on an act.”
Which was a concept the Finn Hellers of the world would never understand.
