A Little Dare - Brenda Jackson [1]
Dare shook his head, thinking he didn’t envy this kid’s parents one bit.
Shelly had barely brought her car to a complete stop in front of the sheriff’s office before she was out of it. It had taken her a good two hours in Atlanta’s heavy traffic to make it home after receiving word that AJ had not shown up at school, only to discover he wasn’t at home. When it had started getting late she had gotten worried and called the police. After giving the dispatcher a description of AJ, the woman assured her that he was safe in their custody and that the reason she had not been contacted was because AJ had refused to give anyone his name. Without asking for any further details Shelly had jumped into her car and headed for the police station.
She let out a deep sigh. If AJ hadn’t given anyone his name that meant the sheriff was not aware she was AJ’s mother and for the moment that was a comforting thought. As she pushed open the door, she knew all her excuses for not yet meeting with Dare and telling him the truth had run out, and fate had decided to force her hand.
She was about to come face to face with Sheriff Dare Westmoreland.
“Sheriff, the parent of John Doe has arrived.”
Dare looked up from the papers he was reading and met his secretary’s gaze. “Only one parent showed up, Holly?”
“Yes, just the mother. She’s not wearing a wedding ring so I can only assume there isn’t a father. At least not one that’s around.”
Dare nodded. “What’s the kid doing now?” he asked, pushing the papers he’d been reading aside.
“He’s out back watching Deputy McKade clean up his police motorcycle”
Dare nodded. “Send the woman in, Holly. I need to have a long talk with her. Her son needs a lot more discipline than he’s evidently getting at home.”
Dare moved away from his desk to stand at the window where he could observe the boy as he watched McKade polish his motorcycle. He inhaled deeply. There was something about the boy that he found oddly familiar. Maybe he reminded him of himself and his four brothers when they’d been younger. Although they had been quite a handful for their parents, headstrong and in some ways stubborn, they had known just how far to take it and just how much they could get away with. And they’d been smart enough to know when to keep their mouths closed. This kid had a lot to learn.
“Sheriff Westmoreland, this is Ms. Rochelle Brockman.”
Dare swung his head around and his gaze collided with the woman he’d once loved to distraction. Suddenly his breath caught, his mouth went dry and every muscle in his body froze as memories rushed through his spiraling mind.
He could vividly recall the first time they’d met, their first kiss and the first time they had made love. The last time stood out in his mind now. He dragged his gaze from her face to do a total sweep of her body before returning to her face again. A shiver of desire tore through him, and he was glad that his position, standing behind his desk, blocked a view of his body from the waist down. Otherwise both women would have seen the arousal pressing against the zipper of his pants.
His gaze moved to her dark-brown hair, and he noted that it was shorter and cut in one of those trendy styles that accented the creamy chocolate coloring of her face as well as the warm brandy shade of her eyes.
The casual outfit she wore, a printed skirt and a matching blouse, made her look stylish, comfortable and ultrafeminine. Then there were the legs he still considered the most gorgeous pair he’d ever seen. Legs he knew could wrap around his waist while their bodies meshed in pleasure.
A deep sigh escaped his closed lips as he concluded that at thirty-three she was even more beautiful than he remembered and still epitomized everything feminine. They’d first met when she was sixteen and a sophomore in high school. He’d been nineteen, a few weeks shy of twenty and a sophomore in college, and had come home for a visit to find her working on