“He looked at his reflection in the mirror. It had only been two days and he still wasn’t used to the way his new name badge looked or the pins on his lapels. He’d been used to the old badge, the one that identified him as a deputy sheriff. The new one just said sheriff. The election was over and the county, non-weres and all, had spoken its mind. Owen Wells, retired Army Sergeant First Class, badass were to the bone, was the man they’d given the nod to for the sheriff’s job. He squared his shou...lders and stepped out of his office. The deputies coming on shift that morning looked up, applauded, made mocking attempts to polish his new badge for him until he growled and brushed them off. Grinning, they backed away and accepted the call sheets Tom was passing out. Suzanne was sitting at the dispatcher’s desk, looking up at Owen with so much pride he felt his chest swell. Her hand was on her bumped-out belly, rubbing a spot his unborn pup was probably kicking the heck out of. There was an open box of saltines and a glass of ginger ale beside her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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