Sheriff and the Showgirl Read online

  Copyright 2019, Regina Carlysle

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Regina Carlysle

  All rights reserved.

  Sheriff and the Showgirl

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Sheriff and the Showgirl Copyright © 2019 Regina Carlysle

  Cover art by Syneca Featherstone

  Electronic book publication October 11, 2019

  Print book publication August 1, 2019

  This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Curvy Girl Romance

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Dedication:

  This book is dedicated to all who have been told they are too pretty, too ugly, too skinny, too fat or are judged on the basis of skin color, political leanings or religious beliefs. This is also dedicated with love and affection to my daughter.

  Chapter One

  Lola Lamont gave her poor old pink Caddy a baleful look through the plate glass windows of Blue Belle’s Café and heaved a giant sigh. Her sweet baby had pretty much bitten the dust and her current companions at the table were right, she needed to be put out of her misery. Lola and her friends, Roxie and Emily, had rolled into the tiny town of Mesa Blanco, Texas with the old monstrosity of a car gasping and wheezing like a two-pack-a-day smoker.

  Refugees from Vegas, the three friends had, in a moment of madness, said to hell with it and loaded up for a grand adventure with only pennies in their pockets and the good sense of a trio of pigeons.

  What the hell had they been thinking?

  The sad truth of the matter was they hadn’t been thinking at all. Roxie had lost her job as a security expert for high stakes gaming at a Vegas casino and Emily had been a victim of downsizing at the hotel where she worked. And herself? Lola sighed, still feeling the pain of it all. She had been fired from her show Pink Flamingo Girls for being too old. All those years of dance lessons and keeping her body in primo shape had turned to nothing just days after her thirtieth birthday. Then to make matters worse, her boyfriend Nick had dumped her days after that. Talk about a double whammy. Lola had never been one to have little pity parties for herself but she was about as blue as the décor of Mesa Blanco, Texas’ only café.

  They’d stumbled into the place, exhausted, stressed and dying of thirst only to be met by three of the hunkiest, rope-’em-up, tie-’em-down cowboys they’d ever seen. The place had been practically empty except for them and, gallant gents that they were, the men had treated them to soft drinks, lord love ’em. Wyatt Cavenaugh, a local rancher, had already offered Emily a job as a cook of all things. Dang woman could barely boil water. Together they’d driven off in the man’s big truck. Roxie was, at the moment, caught up in a low conversation with the handsome owner of the local honky-tonk.

  Tension ratcheted up a notch when the other dark, hunkalicious man moved closer to her and leaned in. The scent of him filled her head. “Want another Coke?”

  Lola felt that deep, gravelly and oh-so-sexy voice roll over her body to settle in her pussy. Uh-oh. Trouble in a Stetson, for sure. Ever a sucker for a rough, smoky voice, she nodded. “You’re sweet but no thanks. Sam, is it?”

  He tipped his big, black Stetson, his dark eyes burning with a look she’d come to recognize from just about every man she’d ever met. Hunger. Desire. Lust. Definite interest. Ooh boy. Did she ever know that look. “Sam Campbell, county sheriff.” His kissable lips turned up at the corners and Lola’s heart thumped hard in her chest. Late afternoon sunlight beamed through the window near the table to settle on the lines of his bronzed, weathered face and glinted on dark hair that she was dying to get a better look at.

  “Lola.”

  “Yeah, Lamont, a Vegas damsel in distress.”

  Arching a brow, she gave him a considering look. “And you’ve come riding in on your big white horse?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “My hero. Nice to meet you.” Smiling, she held out her hand which he immediately engulfed in his. The warmth of his touch was sudden and unexpected and Lola felt the loss when he finally released her.

  Damn if he wasn’t the sexiest man she’d seen in a long, long time and that included Nick Mantucci whom she’d thought was awfully handsome. Nick was a smooth operator who wore designer suits as if he were born to them. Not this man. Sam Campbell could’ve stepped out of a scene from one of those old shoot-’em-up movies she used to watch late at night when she couldn’t sleep. Tall, at least six-four or five of brawn and yummy goodness, he not only wore the authority of the sheriff’s badge pinned to his black shirt but carried it on his broad shoulders. The chest beneath that shirt was mounded and muscular practically making her fingers twitch with the need to touch. The man oozed testosterone and wasn’t this a hell of a time to notice such a thing?

  Mentally rolling her eyes at her silly turn of thoughts, she glanced away regretfully thinking, wrong time and wrong place. Besides, she was just done with men. Especially those who made promises they’d had no intention of keeping.

  “So what are you gonna do, Miz Lola?” Sam quietly sipped his coffee.

  Sighing deeply, she jabbed her straw into her now empty beverage glass, making the ice cubes rattle. “Look for a job, I figure.” Feeling more tired than she’d felt in years, she leaned back in her chair and sent her gaze around the room as she tried to think. Her eyes lit on the fluorescent orange “help wanted” sign in the window. Straightening suddenly, she started to get up then remembered her manners. “Excuse me a minute, Sam.”

  Feeling his gaze on her back, Lola grabbed up the sign and walked up to the taciturn, gray haired woman standing behind the counter. The heels of Lola’s cute high heeled sandals click clicked out a warning and the matronly lady glanced up with a frown.

  “Can I help ya, miss?”

  Lola set the sign on the counter. “Looks like you need help and I’d like to apply. Can you tell me who I need to talk with about a job?”

  “You’d need to talk to me. I’m Belle Warren.” Belle, all of five two and built like an army tank, looked her up and down slowly and Lola got the feeling she didn’t like what she saw. Figured. Lola was pretty much used to that reaction. “Where ya from, little missy?”

  “Vegas, ma’am.”

  “Bull dung,” she said matter-of-factly. “That ain’t no city voice you’ve got there, girl.”

  Lola opened her mouth to speak when Sam walked up and set his coffee cup on the counter. “Can I get a refill, Belle?”

  That got a smile from Belle as she grinned and reached for the coffee pot. “Sure thing, Sheriff.” Seeming to forget Lola’s presence for the moment, she finally turned back to Lola and planted her fis
ts on ample hips. “No sirree. You’ve got the deep south stamped all over you. Where you from?”

  Sam propped his gorgeous, denim-covered butt on the nearest stool and listened unabashedly. Though it was damn hard, Lola tried to forget about him and focused on Belle.

  “I’m from a little bitty town just outside Jackson, Mississippi.”

  “You grew up there?”

  “Yes’m. And I waited tables too. From the time I turned sixteen. I’m a really hard worker, Belle.”

  “Hmph. Well, we’ll just see about that, I reckon. Now this ain’t permanent. Got that? Merrylee Hawkins just had a baby and she’ll be back for her job in about six weeks or so. That’s all I’ve got to offer.”

  “Oh no, that’s okay,” she rushed. “I just need to make enough money to get out of town.”

  “Why? You have somewhere you need to go?”

  Lola had to think about that.

  No, she really didn’t but she just couldn’t see herself staying here. The sleepy town of Mesa Blanco was far too similar to the town where she grew up and she hadn’t been able to leave that place fast enough. Nope. She wouldn’t be staying. Finally she shook her head and sighed. “Not really. I guess I just need some time to figure things out.”

  “Okay then, I’ll try you out for awhile, Lola.”

  Relief swept her and then she thought of something else. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Someone mentioned something about a rooming house?”

  “Staying there requires money,” Belle said. She pursed her lips and then seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. “Listen here. There’s no need for that. I reckon you’re pretty much busted.”

  “You’ve got that right. I’m a downright pauper at this point.”

  “I figured. You ladies rolled in here without two plug nickels between you considering the three of you were gonna share one drink. Hell, I was prepared to contribute to the cause until Sam here, Wyatt, and Cliff jumped in to spring for the drinks. It’s clear ya’ll are pretty broke.”

  “Pitiful.”

  “Ain’t it just.” Belle shook her head. “Tell ya what. I’ve got a little apartment out back behind the café. I lived there when I was younger, back before I married and started a family. Over the years I’ve rented it out but it’s empty now. It’s not much but it’s furnished and clean. You can stay there until you get on your feet. How’s that sound?”

  Lola was so overwhelmed she wiggled around in celebration and impulsively ran around the edge of the counter to give Belle a hug. Belle Warren was a sweetheart despite her gruff demeanor. Lola knew a little something about being judged on the basis of appearance. She should’ve known better. “Thank you. Thank you. Lordy! You won’t be sorry, ma’am.”

  Belle stiffly patted her back. “Hell, I’m already sorry.”

  Sam thought his eyes were gonna flat pop out of his head.

  It was Lola Lamont’s celebratory jumping around that had done it.

  Sweet Holy Jesus!

  It had been a close call when he watched her glide across the linoleum floor wearing those spiky high heels on the ends those mile-long legs of hers. That alone had almost done him in. She was six feet tall at least, not counting the heels, and possessed the kind of luscious good looks that made men stammer and stutter and go all hard in the crotch. Sex on a long, gorgeous stick, for sure. Her eyes were big, round, and as blue as the bluebonnets that hung in framed display all over the walls of the café. She wore her thick, pale-blonde hair piled on top of her head in a mound of riotous curls that fell here and there around a beautiful oval face. A man who knew what he was doing would yank all the pins out of that mass and bury his face there.

  Sipping his coffee, he thought about how that all silky looking hair would feel wrapped around his cock as she sucked him off with that pretty mouth. Damn, if her lips weren’t mouth-watering. Full and pouty, they were tinted with some kind of rosy looking gloss. In fact, every bit of her was put together as if she’d been tended by a makeup artist or something. Her skin was flawless and mascara had been applied with precision to her thick lashes. Maybe a bit too much of that stuff for his taste but he couldn’t argue with the outcome.

  Watching Lola bounce around in utter joy was a sight to behold.

  Sam nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of her perfect boobs bouncing beneath the skin-tight tee shirt she wore. The belly baring creation emphasized the slender dip of her waist and flat tummy. Lola’s rounded, apple-shaped ass nicely filled out her khaki shorts but it was her legs that really reached out and grabbed him by the Johnson.

  They were long, shapely perfection.

  The kind of perfection any sane man would want wrapped around his waist while he rammed his cock deep. She was the kind of woman who made a man think of big, soft beds and messed up sheets. Sam felt his cock go hard behind the fly of his jeans.

  She was trouble, very big trouble and might as well have gold digger tattooed to her mighty fine ass. He knew a little something about the breed and had suffered the broken heart to prove it. Best to stay far, far away from Lola Lamont. She might be a fine little playmate for a while but Sam knew she wasn’t the kind of woman a mature man counted on for anything more than a quick fuck or two.

  Lola was a hot affair kinda gal, not a forever one.

  Clearing his throat, he stood causing both women to look his way. “Congratulations on landing a job, Lola. Let’s head out to that heap out front and gather your luggage.”

  She batted her sweet baby blues and smiled. “Nah, I can get it. Don’t you have work to do?”

  Sam shook his head. “Nope. In case you haven’t noticed it’s pretty damn boring around here. I figure I have time to help a lady out.”

  “Ah, that whole damsel and white horse thing, right?”

  He laughed. She was a funny little thing. “Yeah. Come on.”

  Before heading outside, they stopped at the table where Cliff and her friend, Roxy sat. Leaning down, obviously joyous, she gave Roxie a hug. “Can you believe it, Rox? I landed a job. Right here.”

  Roxie, a beautiful brunette, grinned brightly. “Fast work, sunshine. That’s great news.”

  Lola frowned. “Belle offered me a little apartment behind the café. I think there’s only the one bed but you’re welcome to share, honey. We could be roomies.”

  “Hmm. Let me think about it. I might have something cooking soon myself. But if I need a place to sleep, I’ll definitely come by, okay?”

  Lola grabbed the luggage that passed for a purse and reached for her cell phone. Wiggling it a little, she smiled. “Call me if you have a problem.”

  “Will do.”

  Sam stepped out into the Texas summer heat and headed straight for the trunk of the pink caddy. Pink? He struggled not to roll his eyes. Why did this seem such a perfect car for Miss Lola Lamont? “Hand me your keys, Lola.”

  She dug through her bag and finally handed them over. His eyes widened at the sight of the mountain of suitcases piled inside. “These are mine,” she said pointing to two enormous battered cases. He struggled, huffed a little, and wrestled them onto the pavement.

  “Damn, woman! What do you have in these? Rocks?”

  Lola laughed. “No silly. One bag is for my clothes and the other is for my shoes.”

  Shoes?

  Shaking his head, he reached for a smaller case. His mom had once explained that these were called train cases and ladies used them to tote around makeup and such. It was shiny and black featuring a cartoon ponytailed woman. The name Barbie was scrolled beneath the picture in swirly hot pink letters.

  Lola grabbed the handle with both hands and grinned. “Isn’t it the cutest thing ever? Emily and Roxie gave it to me as a gag gift on my last birthday but I just love it.”

  Sam didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t the kind of man who smiled a lot but damn if she wasn’t as cute as hell standing there grinning from ear to ear. “Come on. Let’s get you stowed away.”
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  “Hang on a minute.” She lifted out another suitcase and a tote bag and hauled it into Blue Belle’s. The trunk was nice and empty now so he shut it up as Lola came back outside. “Okay. I’m all set. Lead the way.”

  Sam gripped the heavier than hell suitcases and headed down the alley between the café and the feed store. Behind him, he heard the steady snick snick of Lola’s heels striking the pavement. He stopped in front of the small, wood-frame apartment and, taking the key Belle had handed him earlier, slipped it into the lock. The musty smell hit them both in a blast. Plunging forward, Sam set the bags near the front door and immediately started opening windows in the small space.

  “Ew.”

  Sam glanced over his shoulder in time to see her wrinkle her turned up nose. “Sorry about the smell.”

  “Oh honey, it’s not your fault,” she said with that slower than molasses drawl. “And beggars can’t be choosers as my mama always said.”

  “Your mama is a smart lady.”

  “Was,” she said quietly coming farther into the small living space. “She passed away right before I left home for Vegas. Here let me help you.” Lola moved to the window on the other side of the front door and started to tug. “Damn, it’s stuck. Shoot.”

  “Here, darlin’, let me get it for you. There’s no telling how long these windows have been locked up.” Lola stepped back and Sam caught a whiff of the wonderfully feminine scent of her. She wore some kind of soft, subtle perfume that was as sexy as hell. He was more than a little relieved when she moved off to examine the place. The window opened with a creak allowing fresh air to blow through the small area.

  “Hey! This isn’t bad,” she observed, turning in small circles around the room. “I’ve definitely lived in worse.”

  Hmm. Now that was interesting because this place was sure no palace. His cop’s mind began to wonder about the place she’d come from and how she’d ended up in Vegas. What had eventually driven her away from Sin City and into his town? A crime maybe? Sam immediately dismissed the idea. She didn’t look like any criminal mastermind he’d ever seen.