Shadows of Doubt Read online

  “Death is never an easy thing to deal with.” Eric drove back down the road and headed into town. “I’m sure some grief counselors were brought in if you want to talk to one of them.”

  Samson tapped his temple. “I’ll be okay. I just have to go to my happy place and remind myself that at least the person’s family will have closure.”

  Nobody was this well-adjusted. His mate had to have some kind of imbalance, though Eric wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what that was. “Do you have a car I can drop you off at?”

  “No.” Samson looked out his window. “I walked. You can let me out anywhere in the downtown area, and I’ll walk home. I don’t want to make you go out of your way.”

  “It’s no trouble. I can take you anywhere you need to go.” Samson not only looked deep in thought he also appeared exhausted. There was no way Eric was letting him walk anywhere. “So where are we headed?”

  “The apartments above the bakery.” Samson yawned and blinked rapidly, obviously fighting his sleepiness.

  “We can always do dinner later,” Eric said. “We have had a long day.”

  Samson finally turned and stared at him. “Are you trying to ditch me?”

  “Not in the least.” Eric pulled into the parking space in front of Sweet Delight. “I was just trying to be considerate.”

  “You can be considerate by walking me to my door.” Samson got out and headed to a door that rested between the bakery and another shop.

  With a shrug, Eric turned his Jeep off and followed.

  Chapter Two

  Okay. Don’t blow this. Try to sound semi-intelligent and don’t say anything stupid. Act like you’ve been around a gorgeous guy before. Unfortunately, Samson had been saying stupid stuff all day, like how he was tougher than he looked. If that had been the case, he wouldn’t have been ready to pass out when he’d found that body.

  Other than being paired with delicious eye candy, Samson was so over today.

  “Mom, I’m home!” he called out when he unlocked the door and walked into the spacious apartment.

  “You live with your mom?” Eric asked from behind him.

  The guy stood so close that Samson felt his body heat. If he’d had the nerve, he would’ve turned around and curled into all that muscular heat. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, telling himself not to molest the nice deputy.

  “And?” Samson tossed his keys onto the kitchen table as he prayed his semihardness didn’t turn into a full-fledged boner. Now wouldn’t that be embarrassing? “There’s nothing wrong with that. Money’s tight for me, and I cut cost where I can.”

  “I didn’t say anything was wrong with living with one of your parents.” Eric stepped farther inside and looked around. “I’ve never been in one of these apartments. It’s bigger than it looks from the outside.”

  Samson led Eric down the long hallway that opened into an expansive living room. He eyed the couch and imagined them fucking like horndogs on it but forced the dirty thoughts from his head.

  “You can have a seat while I make us some coffee. I guess my mom’s still at work, though I could have sworn she had the day off.”

  He wanted to leave Eric in the living room because he needed some time to himself to gather his thoughts. The deputy was making him hot under the collar and just as bothered in other regions of his body. Eric was the sexy kind of guy who made women take a second glance, who knew he was good-looking but wasn’t arrogant about it, and who had chosen to become a cop so he could help others.

  And now he’s sitting in my living room, covered in dry mud, and I couldn’t care less what he gets dirty as long as he stays for just a bit longer.

  Samson rolled his eyes. Who was he kidding? Eric was way out of his league and just being courteous because his mom had clearly taught her son manners. Samson needed to give Eric his coffee, have a short, but polite conversation, and send the deputy on his way.

  If Samson only knew how to work the Keurig. His mother was the coffee drinker, not him. He detested the stuff.

  “Need any help?”

  Samson jumped and slapped a hand over his heart as he spun around to find Eric in the archway, his arms above his head, his fingers touching the top of the frame. Holy fuck he was hot. “Oh my god. You scared me!”

  Eric’s smile was what wet dreams were made of. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  Samson waved at the coffeemaker, completely flustered and horny as hell. For a moment he’d forgotten what he was about to say, and then his mind came back into focus but not by much. “I…uh…have no idea how this works.”

  Stop acting like you’re brain damaged!

  His gaze slid over every inch of the deputy’s body as Eric walked over to him, grabbed a coffee mug and set it on the tray, grabbed a K-cup and popped it into the machine, then tapped the touchscreen on the face of it.

  The machine kicked into gear. “I’m impressed. I tried to make my mom a cup once and felt like I was dealing with alien technology.”

  “I have the same model at home,” Eric said. “It comes in handy when making a quick cup before heading into work.”

  Eric smelled so good, like something dark and spicy, with a touch of the forest added in. Samson leaned in and sniffed before he caught what he was doing and pulled back. “Do you think you can handle being left alone while I take a quick shower?” He waved at his clothes. “I don’t want my mom to have a fit when she sees all the dry mud I’ve tracked inside.”

  The side of Eric’s mouth curved as he looked Samson up and down. Was that…was that heat in his pretty brown eyes? “I think I can manage. I’ll holler if I need an adult.”

  “Yeah…okay…right.” Samson made a beeline for his bedroom. Once inside he stripped out of his clothes and set a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt on his bed, fighting the devilish urge to call Eric into his room for some random reason or another. The only thing that stopped Samson was bravery.

  Apparently he had none when it came to inviting hot, sexy strangers into his bedroom. It was one thing to talk a good game, another when it came to backing those words up.

  Samson also wasn’t into making a fool out of himself. There was no way Eric was attracted to him, so Samson needed to give up that fantasy. Sure, he’d flirted with Eric earlier, but the guy hadn’t made any advances, so Samson assumed the deputy wasn’t interested in him.

  His phone, which had been in his winter vest, began to ring. Samson checked the pockets and pulled it out, saw it was his stepdad calling, and hit the Ignore button. It grated on his nerves that James would have the audacity to call him after the abuse he’d inflicted on his mate. Samson was also terrified that James kept calling him. He didn’t want anything to do with that man, yet his stepdad—and he only thought of James as his stepdad because his mother had insisted on it.

  Samson knew why James continued to call him. The bastard didn’t have a job, and Samson’s mother was his only source of income. The lazy fuck just wanted his bank account back.

  With a towel in his hand, Samson raced across the hall to the bathroom, hoping Eric wasn’t heading to the living room at the same time. Samson kept his shower short but thoroughly scrubbed his body and then raced back to the bedroom.

  Keeping Eric waiting would be rude, so Samson dressed as quickly as possible, and with jeans, underwear, and a shirt on, he headed back to the kitchen. “All fresh and clean,” he said with a nervous smile.

  Eric was seated at the table, which had a perfect view of the hallway. Samson’s face heated when he realized Eric had seen him streaking both times. “So, do you want me to wait here while you go home and shower, or do you want to meet at the diner?”

  Samson moved to the other side of the kitchen to put enough space between them because he didn’t want to accidentally trip and fall face-first into the deputy’s lap. That was not how he wanted to be introduced to Eric’s dick, though that would have been very interesting.

  “If you don’t mind, I have a go-bag in my Jeep. I could sho
wer here and save us some time.” Eric stood and moved across the kitchen, towering over Samson, and Samson had to crane his neck back to stare into his gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes.

  Images of Eric standing in the shower while soap suds slid down his naked, muscled body had Samson swallowing around his dry throat. “I…uh…sure…uh, you can do that.”

  It was as though he’d gotten Eric alone and turned into a mindless idiot. Gone was the brave flirt from earlier and in his place was someone who’d had a lobotomy. Samson wanted to smack himself for acting like he really was brain damaged.

  “Much appreciated.” Eric winked and headed out the door. Samson stood there staring after the deputy, his heart skipping a few beats as he tried to stop himself from drooling.

  If he called his best friend right now, Samson wouldn’t be lying when he said he had a hot naked man in his shower. And wouldn’t Hatcher get a kick out of the gossip. But Samson resisted. For now. He’d call Hatcher later and brag until he was blue in the face.

  Eric returned, and Samson showed him to the bathroom. “Take your time,” he said as he walked out of the room. The door closed behind him, and Samson’s heart thundered when he heard the shower cut on.

  “Oh, grow up,” he chided himself. “Stop acting like you’ve never had sex before.” He stopped in his tracks. Eric was taking a shower, not getting ready for them to hop into bed.

  With a roll of his eyes, Samson went back into his bedroom. He’d grabbed his phone to call Hatcher when it rang. It was his stepdad again. Samson ignored the call and went to the kitchen to wash Eric’s mug out. His mom worked her butt off at the beauty salon, and Samson didn’t want her coming home to a dirty house.

  After taking a seat at the table, Samson strummed his fingers, images of Eric’s hot body under the spray torturing him.

  * * * *

  The diner wasn’t crowded, and Samson and Eric were able to get a table by the window. They had yet to eat today, and Samson was starving as the smells of the diner wafted toward him. He was so hungry that the waiter could have plopped down a plate full of roadkill and Samson would’ve eaten it.

  Okay, so that was a serious exaggeration, but his appetite wasn’t. His stomach rumbled loudly as he inhaled deep drafts of whatever was cooking. His mouth watered to the point he was ready to ask for a drool bib. It felt as though his stomach was trying to eat its way out and become its own entity.

  “I’m freaking starving.” Eric grabbed a menu from the little metal holder at the end of the table. “Don’t think badly of me if I order half the menu.”

  “I know, right?” Samson pressed his hand against his stomach.

  One of Eric’s brows arched. “You look like you’d get full with a breadstick.”

  Samson glared at him. “I’ll have you know that it takes an entire basket of breadsticks to get me full.”

  Eric chuckled. “Right. If they were baby breadsticks.”

  Samson ignored the gorgeous bastard as he stared around the diner, wishing their waiter would hurry up and get over to their table. At one table sat three men, bandanas on their heads, reminding Samson of bikers.

  Another table held two guys and a toddler. The larger of the two men looked familiar, and it took a second for Samson to place him. He was one of the doctors at the clinic. Samson didn’t know his name, though.

  In the last booth at the back of the diner sat a guy who wore jeans, a thermal shirt, and a faded green winter vest, along with a red baseball cap that looked as though it had seen better days. He also had the scruffiest beard Samson had ever seen. It was long and black but had a lot of gray sprinkled in it. The guy reminded Samson of Paul Bunyan. All he needed was an axe to complete his ensemble. From across the diner, he looked to have dark eyes, and the man kept staring right at him.

  “Order whatever you want.” Eric’s voice pulled Samson away from the ogling man. “It’s on me. My way of showing my appreciation for all the help you gave today.”

  “You mean your thanks for me not passing out or having a meltdown after finding that body.” Samson grimaced. “That’s fine by me. I’m not gonna pass up a free meal, especially when Mr. Eye-Candy is buying it for me.”

  The waiter came and set glasses of ice water down, took their drink orders, and walked away, giving them time to look over their menus.

  “Sheriff Werth called when I went downstairs to get my bag. He said everyone on the list was accounted for.”

  Samson rested his arms on the table and asked, “What about the kids?”

  “They were hiding in a neighbor’s treehouse, too afraid to come out.”

  Samson sagged with relief. A lost life was tragic, but even more so when that life belonged to a child. He was glad they were okay. “And the body we found?”

  “An elderly man who had been out looking for his cat when he was swept away in the storm,” Eric said. “Not all the people on that list died. Most were waiting out the storm in other places.”

  “Well, I’m glad I was able to help.” Samson smiled when the waiter brought his soda. He glanced at the table where Mr. Lumberjack sat and caught the guy still staring at him, but when he saw Samson looking his way, he glanced at his food.

  Mr. Lumberjack was giving him the creeps.

  Samson turned his attention to his menu as Eric typed out something on his phone. But as hard as Samson tried to concentrate, he felt Mr. Lumberjack’s eyes burning into him.

  “Is something wrong?” Eric looked around before his attention landed back on Samson. “You look a bit tense.”

  “Not at all. I just have to use the little boy’s room.” Samson got up and headed toward the back of the diner. When he passed Mr. Lumberjack’s table, the guy looked away, but Samson still felt the pervert’s eyes on him.

  He used the bathroom, washed his hands, and exited, relieved to see that Mr. Lumberjack was gone.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Eric said when Samson took a seat. “I’m starving, so I told the waiter to bring us a couple of burgers and some fries.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Samson looked out of the large glass window only to see Mr. Lumberjack in his truck parked across the street.

  He was seated in the driver’s side of a beat-up red truck, headlights out, staring at Samson. Now the guy had gone past creepy and was entering into the land of stalkerdom.

  He started to say something to Eric, but the pervert pulled out into traffic and drove away. Samson noted the truck and the license plate, committing as much as he could to memory.

  “Will you be helping with the cleanup tomorrow?” Eric asked as the waiter brought their food. Samson was already salivating, and he hadn’t even taken a bite yet.

  “I wish, but I’m scheduled to work tomorrow.” Samson bit into one of his fries and groaned. Maybe it was because he was hungry, but the hand-cut and perfectly salted fry was the best he’d ever tasted.

  The bell above the door jingled, and two cops walked in. Eric looked over his shoulder and waved.

  “You’re buddies?” Samson chewed on another fry, taking a moment to appreciate the way Eric’s muscles had flexed. What he wouldn’t give to be writhing naked under the stud…or bouncing on his naked lap…or grinding his balls into the guy’s mouth. Samson wasn’t picky.

  “Deputy Sloan and Deputy Stransky,” Eric said.

  Samson watched as the two sauntered over to them. “Mind if we join you?” the blond said.

  Eric didn’t look happy but nodded. “Samson, this is Dillon and Vince.”

  Dillon grinned at him while Vince stole one of Eric’s fries. Eric smacked Vince’s hand and glowered at him.

  Samson hid his smile.

  “I was just heading home,” Dillon said. “I’m here to pick up some food for me and Max. Those burgers and fries look good. Maybe that’s what I’ll order.”

  Samson couldn’t believe he was sitting with three handsome devils. But from what Newt had told him, Dillon and Vince were taken. What gay guy didn’t fantasize about a foursome with three gor
geous cops, though he had no intentions to sleep with any of them?

  Except Eric, if the guy put the moves on him. Samson would throw himself on the diner table, spread his legs, and call to Jesus if Eric asked him to. Samson wasn’t a brazen man, but for Eric, he would be.

  “It was good to meet you,” Dillon said as he got up. “I’m gonna go get those dinners before Max calls the station demanding to know where I am.”

  “It was nice to meet you, too,” Samson said.

  “Ditto.” Vince nodded in Samson’s direction before he took off toward the counter where Dillon stood, placing his order.

  “They seem nice.” Samson bit into his burger, and the taste exploded on his tongue.

  He groaned, licking the grease from his lips as he chewed the heavenly burger. Samson and his mom had moved to Brac Village about four months ago, and although Samson had visited this diner once or twice, this was the first time he’d eaten their burgers.

  But it wouldn’t be his last.

  He glanced across the table to find Eric simply staring at him, a fry halfway to his mouth. “What?”

  Eric cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

  “You better eat before your food gets cold,” Samson said.

  When he looked out the window to watch the sinking sun, he noticed Mr. Lumberjack driving by the diner, his eyes locking with Samson’s before he drove off.

  * * * *

  “Thank you for dinner.”

  “You’re quite welcome.” Eric held the door open for Samson to walk out and then followed behind him.

  He didn’t want their night to end so soon. Eric had been having a great time with his mate and wanted to explain things to him and get that out of the way. But telling someone you weren’t human wasn’t an easy subject to approach.

  While eating dinner, Eric had thought of a hundred ways to tell Samson that they were mates, but each scenario had ended with Samson reacting so badly that Eric had pushed the thoughts from his mind.