She held herself together and wrapped her arms around Jerica’s body, tugging her closer until Jerica fell into her. They snuggled together for a while until Jerica started to tease her, kisses here and there, light nips, then she ramped it up, sucking on Bridget’s nipple until it was peaked, swirling her tongue in circles as Bridget threaded her fingers into Jerica’s hair and held on tightly.

  “Jesus,” Bridget mumbled.

  “What? Like that?”

  Rolling her eyes, Bridget nodded. “Yes. You’ve got a wicked tongue sometimes.”

  “Only sometimes.”

  Laughing lightly, Bridget planted her good foot into the mattress and flipped them over. Jerica cradled her. Bridget pushed herself up to stare down into those hazel eyes. “You know, I think you like the teasing.”

  “Of course I do, don’t you?” Jerica gave her a challenging look. “Teasing is more than half the fun.”

  Shaking her head, Bridget bent down and gave Jerica the same treatment she’d been given. This time, she didn’t stop with just Jerica’s breasts, moving down so she was lying between Jerica’s thighs, swirling her tongue and flicking it as Jerica moaned and writhed underneath her.

  This time it took far longer to get Jerica to orgasm, but Bridget was flat-out determined to have her way and get Jerica off. As she finally crested through her orgasm, a thrill of joy slid through Bridget at the thought that she’d made that happen.

  Crawling up Jerica’s body, Bridget collapsed next to her. Jerica leaned in for a kiss. “How do you want it?”

  “Oh, it’s fine if we don’t. I just wanted to get you—”

  “That’s not what I asked, Bridge, but if you really don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

  Bridget paused a second before responding. “No, I want to.”

  “Then how?” Jerica’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Fingers? Mouth? Toy?”

  “Do you have lube?” Bridget asked, hesitating. “Because we’ll need that no matter what we do.”

  “Absolutely.” Jerica rolled to the far side of the bed and pulled out a drawer in her nightstand. “I’ve got regular, thick and goopy—” she giggled as she said that one “—but also strawberry and vanilla.”

  “You’re the one who’s going to have to taste it, not me. You pick.”

  “No allergies?”

  Bridget shook her head. “No.”

  “Good.” Jerica grabbed a black bottle and put a few pumps of the lube on her fingers. “So is the rest my choice? You said taste, so I assume you want my mouth.”

  “That seemed to work well last time.”

  Jerica grinned. “We can always try something different if you want.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Oh, is there going to be a next time?”

  “I hope so,” Bridget answered, excitement building in her chest.

  Jerica kissed her loudly, then deepened the embrace as she slid her fingers between Bridget’s legs and rubbed the lube into her. “I’ll make you come any way you want me to.”

  Bridget groaned lightly, already feeling the heat from whatever warming lube Jerica must have chosen. It was like electricity between her legs. She wriggled, and Jerica smiled in response.

  “Seems like you’re ready for something a little more intense?”

  “Yes,” Bridget hissed out.

  Jerica moved into the position Bridget had been in, using her mouth and fingers in tandem to bring Bridget higher. It felt so good, but Bridget knew she was a ways off from orgasming. She closed her eyes, focusing everything on the sensations Jerica caused, on the slight tingles, on the swipe of her tongue, the press of her fingers, the suck of her mouth. Everything in her being became about what Jerica was doing to her.

  Jerica didn’t give up, though, like a few of Bridget’s lovers had. And instead of making Jerica give up like she’d done before with other partners, Bridget re-doubled her focus. She wanted to come. She wanted to get off. She wanted this to be easy. As if she’d commanded it, tingles flew from everywhere in her body, shooting through her nerves and straight between her legs right to where Jerica was working her.

  She would say something, but she couldn’t form words. Gripping the sheets, Bridget lifted her hips as she cascaded through her orgasm, breathing out heavily as she crashed down from it. Jerica slowed her teasing, licking her fully before resting her chin on Bridget’s hip bone.

  “Good?”

  “Hell yeah,” Bridget answered on a breath. “You can do that any day you want.”

  Smiling, Jerica moved up. “Are we going to eat dinner?”

  “In a minute…when I can feel my legs again and stand up without falling over.”

  “Well, I know how to help you walk,” Jerica answered with a taunt.

  “Shut up,” Bridget wrinkled her nose. “Yes, we will eat dinner. I spent all that time ordering it, you know.”

  Laughing, Jerica rolled to the edge of the bed and stood up. She grabbed some pajamas and started dressing.

  “We can do more of this later. First, food to keep us going all night.”

  “Oh God,” Bridget murmured. She was going to need coffee if they were going to do this all night.

  CHAPTER 19

  Bridget had been out of work for eight weeks before she was finally allowed back into the office. That morning, she’d gotten up early with Jerica as she got ready for work herself. They were quiet, Jerica not really commenting or asking about work and Bridget letting her do her thing while she sipped coffee and watched.

  They’d talked the issue to death, but it was such a freak accident that Bridget could barely fault her line of work as the problem, though she knew her job was dangerous. She was the Sheriff in a tiny town of fifteen-hundred people. It wasn’t like she was a street cop in Memphis or something. Her life was not in danger daily.

  Jerica slipped into the chair next to her at the table and gave a small smile. “Are you nervous?”

  Bridget shook her head. “I’m not, actually. I know this is the right decision.”

  “Good.” Jerica reached out and covered Bridget’s hand with her own. “I think it is, too, not that my opinion means much.”

  “It means just about everything to me.” Bridget curled their fingers together as she sipped her coffee with her other hand. “And I’m glad I have your support. I’ll need it when I run for reelection.”

  “Think you’ll win?”

  “I honestly don’t know, but if I don’t, I guess I know where I’ll be moving.” Bridget laughed lightly, having already joked about moving to Jerica’s and taking job in law enforcement there or down at the jail. It wouldn’t be Bridget’s preference, but it would still be a job in the line of work she was called to do. “When will you be back tonight?”

  “I’ll be home as soon as my shift ends and as soon as I can get up here.” Jerica leaned in and pressed a kiss to Bridget’s cheek. “You can find your own rides, right?”

  “Yeah. Fuck, I can’t wait to drive again.”

  Jerica snorted. “But then I don’t get to be your chauffeur to everything.”

  “You haven’t been, but I appreciate the sentiment and agree with it. It’s a good time together when we can have it.”

  “It is for sure.” Jerica leaned in and kissed Bridget fully on her lips this time. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Yeah.” Bridget reached up, tangling her fingers in Jerica’s hair before dragging her back down for a deeper, longer kiss. She’d gotten quite used to waking up with Jerica, and even though they still had both houses and weren’t technically living together, they spent the vast majority of their nights in the same house, either hers or Jerica’s. It wasn’t something Bridget wanted to give up, but since she was back to working, she wondered if those nights would dwindle since she had to be in town to get rides to and from work.

  Jerica broke the kiss. “I’ve got to go.”

  “I love you,” Bridget whispered.

  “I love you, too.” Jerica kissed her again, quickly, and moved away to the refrigerator, grabbing her lunch bag. They’d made each of them a meal the night before.

  The sun was coming over the horizon an hour after Jerica left, and Bridget knew if they moved in together, the sacrifice would be on Jerica, not on Bridget, since she had to live in the county she was elected to. Pressing her lips tightly together, plans forming in her mind, Bridget finished her third cup of coffee for the morning and went into her bedroom to get dressed.

  Arriving at the courthouse in the cruiser was more emotional than she had anticipated. Her heart raced as Landon parked out front. “Here you are, Sheriff.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks, Deputy.”

  They never called each other by title, so she knew it was because he was trying to be a smart ass. He was going to go out and finish his patrols, so Bridget stepped out of the car and made her way inside, still slower than before because of the black cast on her leg, but at least able to walk without crutches finally.

  She made her way to the elevator and punched the button for the third floor of the courthouse—her sanctuary, her home, the place she spent most of the hours of her day for years, and the one place she hadn’t stepped in for two months.

  Bridget drew in a deep breath as she hesitated at the door to the Sheriff’s Department. Sonny had been sent home, so he wasn’t in the jail any longer, but still, her heart broke for him and his own stupidity. He didn’t mean to run her over—at least from her current understanding—he was just a drunk idiot. But at least she would finally have access to the incident report if she wanted to read it.

  The doorknob was cold in her fingers. She’d spent most of the last two weeks finishing the requirements for her clearance and making sure this was what she really wanted. At the end of the day, she couldn’t imagine her work life looking any different.

  As soon as she stepped into the office, the room erupted with clapping. Bridget grinned and put a hand over her heart as she looked at each one of her deputies and her dispatchers, Rose—the secretary who worked during the day, and other workers from the courthouse who had decided to join in the celebration.

  Bridget shook her head as tears prickled in her eyes. She had no idea what to say. Fucking Landon had somehow gotten there ahead of her. He must have run up those three flights of stairs to beat her to it. Putting her hands out in front of her, Bridget tried to get the clapping to stop, but it only got louder.

  “You’re all idiots,” she finally managed to cough out.

  Landon moved to the side and showcased a cake. Bridget narrowed her eyes at it before stumbling forward to see it. It was a cake done up by none other than Jean, who everyone in town knew made the best cakes. On it, she’d written in fancy lettering, Welcome back, Sheriff! Bridget’s heart was ready to burst.

  She hadn’t expected this. It was stupid because she should have expected something, but she hadn’t. She’d mostly thought about coming in to work and trying to catch up on the last eight weeks. Rolling her shoulders, Bridget turned to Landon and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

  Everyone got their chance to snag a hug from her as happiness and joy gurgled in her chest. This was more than she had ever expected. They cut the cake. People came and went from the courthouse all day to see her, say hi, check in. She got absolutely no work done aside from pulling up the schedule to figure out who the fuck was supposed to be working that week and when.

  She was just sitting down during another lull when Rose knocked on the door impishly. “You have another visitor, Bridget.”

  Sighing, Bridget straightened her back, wondering if it was the damn governor this time. She nodded at Rose, indicating she could let whoever it was in. She couldn’t remember the last time the Sheriff’s office had seen this much traffic. Rose was earning her pay today.

  Hattie stepped into the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. “Hey, Bridget, sorry this is later than expected. I wanted to have them up here for when you came in to work this morning, but we had someone come in to make an order for funeral flowers.”

  Bridget cocked her head at the bouquet. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Hattie handed the glass vase over. “These are from a special someone, or so I’m told. I didn’t quite catch her name. It didn’t sound like English.”

  Bridget tensed, clenching her jaw tightly. The undertone of racism in her fair town annoyed the fuck out of her, but she couldn’t beat it out of them, unfortunately. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll figure out who they’re from.”

  “Yeah. So, how’s your first day back?”

  Bridget sighed, setting the vase on the corner of her desk. She’d have to look at the note later when Hattie wasn’t around because she did not want to continue that conversation. She sat back down, leaning into her chair and crossing her arms over her uniform, which miraculously still fit well.

  “It’s been great. Mostly just one long party that hasn’t quite ended. There’s still some cake left, I think, if you want to grab a slice. Jean made it.”

  “Of course she did.” Hattie patted Bridget’s hand.

  Hattie was her mother’s age, had worked at the flower store since she was in high school, and had never thought about doing something else. In some ways, Bridget envied her, and in others, she couldn’t even stomach that thought. Life had been easy for Hattie where it had been tough for Bridget—she supposed she would always envy that when it came up.

  “Do you think you’re ready to be back?”

  “Sorry?” Bridget furrowed her brow. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked her that, but it was the first time it had sounded so offensive. She couldn’t figure out if it was because of the comment about the name or the prying or the jealousy bubbling up, but Bridget ignored it.

  “I mean, you’re still healing, right?”

  “Yeah,” Bridget answered. “I’m on office duty for another two to three months easily. I won’t be out in the field just yet, but I can at least help here and do some of the extra stuff once I’m cleared to drive.”

  “You’re not cleared to drive?”

  Bridget froze. She’d forgotten that Hattie was one of the gossip-whores around town. It was the worst part about her running the only flower shop and getting so many special occasion flowers. “I’m not. I will be soon, don’t you worry. Hattie, I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got two months’ worth of work to catch up on.”

  “Oh, right.” Hattie smiled and patted Bridget’s hand. “I copied the name of who those are from off the credit card, so you should be able to figure out right quick.”

  “Thanks.” Bridget nodded, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

  As soon as she was cast into silence, Bridget snagged the card from the beautiful bouquet of flowers and read it. “Good luck on your first day back. Jerica.”

  Bridget wrinkled her nose as a smile blossomed on her lips. She made sure those flowers had a prominent place on her desk amidst all the rest of the gifts she’d gotten that day. She wouldn’t even bring them home. She’d let them sit there until they died—though Rose would no doubt keep them alive as long as possible. She sent Jerica a quick text of thanks before digging into what was left of her day at work, bending over her desk.

  The knock on her door surprised her. Bridget shot her head up, finding Eli leaning against the doorframe with a shit-eating grin on her lips. “I see you had quite the party.”

  “I did. What are you doing here so early?”

  “It’s after six, Bridge.”

  Frowning, Bridget checked her watch. Eli was right, which meant it was also time to leave work for the day. The incident report had sat unread on the corner of her desk while she focused on the rest of the work that she absolutely needed to get done—and still needed to get done, because she hadn’t finished it. She was going to be neck deep in the last two months for at least the upcoming month while she tried to juggle what had happened in her absence and what was currently happening and what was going on in town in the upcoming months.

  Bridget groaned as she stretched her back. “I finally started to get some work done in the last couple of hours. I suppose when everyone started going home.”

  Eli snorted. “So you are more popular than me. Told you.”

  “Shut up.” Bridget pulled face. “Thanks for the ride, though. You know I could have asked one of the deputies.”

  “I know, but this way I get to see you on your first day back. Besides, I had to come to town to get flowers from Hattie. Something Mom ordered? I don’t know. She’s going a bit crazy with the wedding details right now.”

  “Eli, you’re getting married in two days. I think this is the time the detail people are supposed to panic.”

  “Yeah, but does she have to be so…so…panicky about it?”

  Busting out a laugh, Bridget walked around her desk to grab her jacket. “You’re excited for it, don’t lie.”

  “I’m excited for it to be over in some ways. We should have just eloped. Hosting a wedding is vastly different from planning one.”

  “Sure it is.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence as they took the elevator down to the main floor and headed out to Eli’s truck. As soon as they were inside, Bridget clenched her jaw. “Speaking of wedding—”

  “Oh my God, are you getting married?” Eli’s eyes widened. “I called it! I so called it!”

  “I’m not getting married,” Bridget muttered. “But I did want to ask you something.”

  “Ask me what?” Eli pulled through the back streets the five blocks to Bridget’s house.

  “At your wedding, since it’s going to be a big to-do and since we’ll be there, would you, um…would you mind if I asked Jerica to marry me?”

  “Holy fuck,” Eli muttered.

  Bridget’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t tell if it was shock, excitement, or consternation. Bridget held her breath as she waited for some kind of answer.

  “Are you serious?” Eli asked.

  “When am I anything but serious?” Bridget deadpanned.