And that was all Moose had done since meeting Grayson.

  Dreaming about him.

  Not all of it was sexual, either. He also dreamed of a happy life with his grumpy mate. He could just imagine waking up next to Grayson, making love to him, then cooking him breakfast. He also thought about long days just lazing around, watching Moose’s favorite cartoon while they laughed ate snacks.

  It sounded like the perfect life to him.

  Moose was looking at the long driveway when he spotted a car pulling in. It came down the dirt road and stopped near the house.

  It was a sheriff’s car.

  “Now what on earth is Sheriff Archer doing here?” Grayson set his beer aside.

  Moose removed the burgers from the grill and watched as the sheriff walked toward the backyard. He was sizing the silver fox up. And the sheriff was a fox—not in the sense of a shifter, but a sexy older man. He was handsome as hell as he sauntered toward Grayson.

  “Evening, gentlemen.” Sheriff Archer tipped his hat. “Food smells mighty good.” He winked at Grayson. “If I wasn’t watching my diet, I’d ask for a plate.”

  Moose had to stop himself from growling. He’d never met the guy before, but the sheriff was damn friendly with Grayson.

  Grayson got up and shook the sheriff’s hand. “What brings you out here?”

  Archer nodded toward Grayson’s arm. “Didn’t tell me you got all busted up, Grayson. What happened?”

  Grayson and Moose stared at each other for a brief second before Grayson gave the sheriff his attention. “Auto accident.”

  Archer’s eyes widened. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I can see that you are with my own two eyes. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Nah, I’m recovering just fine.” Grayson picked up his beer and took a swallow.

  “Well, I came out here to talk to you about taking over next week.”

  Grayson cursed. “I forgot all about that, Chuck.”

  “Take over what?” Moose asked before he thought better of it.

  “This is my new hire,” Grayson introduced Moose. “He’s a friend of mine and is helping out while I recover.”

  The two shook hands before Chuck looked at Grayson again.

  “How long do you think you’ll need to recover?” Chuck took off his hat and fanned his face as sweat gathered over his brows.

  Moose wasn’t happy that neither man had answered his question, so he asked again, “Take over what?”

  Grayson waved his bottle at the sheriff. “Chuck is retiring, and I’m taking over as Maple Grove sheriff,” he said. “But I think you’ll have to postpone the position until I get this cast off.”

  “No can do.” Chuck shook his head. “Already got the cruise tickets, and Thelma will skin me alive if I tell her we can’t go just yet.” He nodded at the cast. “Besides, the deputies can do all the work until it comes off.”

  “Sheriff?” Moose wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Grayson needed to heal, and he couldn’t do that by going into work every day, even if it was an easy job. Moose didn’t think too much crime happened in such a small town.

  He’d been to Maple Grove. It was small. Even smaller than Brac Village. What were the cops gonna guard, the post office and the diner? In truth, there were a few more shops than that, but not many.

  “Fine.” Grayson sighed. “I’ll be there Monday morning.”

  Moose bit his lip to keep his thoughts to himself. He’d talk to his mate once they were alone. He didn’t like the idea and would voice his opinion, whether Grayson wanted to hear it or not.

  “I guess I’ll be moving along. Thelma is expecting me for dinner so we can discuss the stops our cruise will make. She’s more excited about this than our damn wedding fifty years ago.”

  Grayson grinned. “Can’t blame her. Look who she married.”

  Chuck scoffed and shook his head. His bushy gray brows shot up. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. The files are on my desk, but you’ll be dealing with a vandal when you take over. He or she has already smashed three mailboxes, left human feces on Mr. Pearl’s front step, and poured red food coloring into James and Patsy Marvell’s pool. Good luck.”

  The old coot snickered as he strolled away. Moose had an insane urge to kick him for leaving Grayson with the case.

  Grayson sighed, pulling Moose’s attention back to his mate. “Guess my retirement is over.”

  Not if Moose had anything to say about it. If his mate fought him on this, well then, Moose would just have to be deputized, because he wasn’t letting Grayson out of his sight.

  Chapter Two

  “I’m not deputizing you, but I can’t stop you from hanging around town, either.” Grayson struggled to get one of the uniforms on that Deputy Joshua Hayley had delivered over the weekend. He’d had his size taken a month ago, but the shirt seemed a little snug.

  That’s what happens when you sit around all day drinking beer and munching on snacks.

  But it was time for Grayson to get back into shape. Not that he was a slouch. He just didn’t work out like he used to, and now with the broken arm, the gym would have to wait even longer.

  “God, I haven’t been up this early in forever,” Grayson groused. A moment later, Moose handed him a cup of coffee. Just the way he liked it, black battery acid. That was how a former marine drank the swill, and Grayson sighed when he took a sip.

  “You might refuse to deputize me, but I’m still helping you with the vandal case.” Moose crossed his beefy arms and glared at Grayson with those gorgeous, resolute eyes. Grayson could tell he wasn’t gonna win this fight, so he didn’t bother to argue.

  “I’m probably gonna spend today getting to know the deputies. Nothing is gonna go on.”

  Moose knocked Grayson’s hand aside and buttoned his shirt then fixed his tie. Then he bent and helped Grayson with his pants. He no longer felt like a kid needing help. Not when Moose was right there by his cock.

  Grayson had to concentrate not to get a boner as Moose slid his pants up ever so slowly, as though he was doing that shit on purpose, trying to get a reaction out of him.

  “Pull my pants up any slower and my shift’ll be over.” Grayson drank his coffee to hide the deep way he breathed. Moose was getting a reaction out of him all right, and if Grayson didn’t get away from the big lug, he would pop wood.

  Moose stood and got real close as he fastened Grayson’s pants. Their chests were nearly touching as Moose’s hands glided over Grayson’s waist.

  “Will you stop making this so seductive?” Grayson jerked away and headed out of his room. Now where had he left his boots? They were around here somewhere, but Grayson wasn’t concentrating. He was too busy trying to make his cock go down.

  “Looking for these?” Moose held his polished boots up in his hand. “Now sit so I can help you get them on you.”

  Grayson looked at the clock. If he’d had time, he would have argued with Moose about being able to put his own boots on, which he really couldn’t. But he had less than half an hour to get to the station, so he sat and allowed Moose to put them on and tie them up.

  Moose stood back and gave a hard nod. “You look dashing, Sheriff.”

  Grayson nearly spit his coffee as he gave a hearty laugh. “Does anyone say dashing anymore?”

  “I do,” Moose said. “Dapper, the bear’s growl, the bee’s knees.” He winked at Grayson. “It all boils down to me saying you look very handsome in your uniform.”

  “Bear’s growl?” Grayson frowned. “Isn’t it supposed to be the cat’s meow?”

  Moose grinned. “I like my saying better.”

  “That’s because you’re a bear.” Which Grayson was still trying to wrap his head around. He’d yet to see Moose change into one, but when the guy had confessed what he was after that whole fiasco, Grayson had taken him at his word.

  How could he not after seeing other men change into animals?

  “And a hungry bear,” Moose said. “I think I’ll stop at The Diner Train for some breakfast.”

  “You better make sure they have enough food to feed you.” Grayson got up and set his mug aside. “Wish me luck on my first day.”

  Grayson was caught off guard when Moose gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Good luck, handsome. I’d say break a leg, but you’ve already got a broken arm.”

  Grayson stood there stuck on stupid, unsure how to react or what to say. He had to admit, if only to himself, the kiss had been sweet. “No more broken bones,” he said before he quickly moved away from Moose.

  “Give me a ride into town?” Moose walked behind Grayson to the front door. “I’ll find my own way back.”

  “Come on.” Grayson let himself out and started his truck as soon as he slid behind the wheel.

  “You should really let me drive,” Moose said when he hopped into the passenger seat. “You’ve only got one good arm.”

  “I can drive one-handed,” Grayson argued. “Buckle your seat belt. It’s the law.” He chuckled as he pulled away.

  The drive into town didn’t take long. Grayson lived about ten minutes away. Driving the backroads helped, and he loved that there was no heavy commute.

  That was one reason he’d retired to a small town. The lack of noise, pollution, traffic, and nameless faces was a definite perk.

  As they drove down Main Street—did every Podunk town have a Main Street—Grayson came to a slow stop. He gaped at the white house with blue trim, unbelieving what he was seeing.

  “Is that house really egged?” Moose stared out the passenger window.

  From the front door to the siding and down to the mailbox, egg was everywhere. With the summer heat, the place was gonna stink once the day moved on.

  “My vandal’s latest victim.” Grayson shouldn’t have been surprised to find a small group of people standing outside the station, as though waiting on his arrival.

  He recognized them all since he’d been living in Maple Grove for five years now. Mr. Pearl stood there with his yapping dog in his arms. Mr. and Mrs. Marvell held each other’s hands while wearing mirrored expressions of rage. Mr. Hawking, with his rotund belly pushing way past his shirt and slippers on his feet.

  And Jeremy Longing, the town drunk, who looked as though he was barely staying on his feet as he stared blearily eyed at Grayson’s truck.

  “The welcome wagon?” Moose asked.

  “More like a mob of angry citizens.” Grayson got out and moved to the sidewalk.

  “What is being done about the vandal?” Mr. Pearl asked as he petted his white dog, who had a patch of brown around one eye. “I had a large turd on my front doorstep the other morning, and it didn’t belong to an animal.”

  “Someone filled my pool with red food coloring,” Mrs. Marvell shrieked. “It looks like someone was murdered in it, and I doubt I can get the stains out of the pool.”

  This was not going to be an easy day. Grayson sighed as he held up his hands. “Give one of the deputies your written statements,” he said. “We’re looking into the matter.”

  “It’s the same thing Sheriff Archer said,” Mr. Hawking complained. “And the vandal hasn’t been caught yet. I’ve lived here my whole life and you expect car theft and break-ins in a small town. But whoever is doing this is out to destroy our property, or at the very least, give us a migraine. Did you see my house on your way to work? It’s been egged!”

  “Like I said, we’re working on this. Please, everyone, give your statements inside.”

  Grayson left them on the sidewalk and strolled into the station, Moose right behind him.

  “I’m surprised they didn’t have pitchforks,” Moose said.

  “Do you blame them?” Grayson asked. “I’d be pissed as hell if I woke up to eggs all over my house or my pool filled with food coloring.”

  “I guess you’re right, but you could use my help,” Moose said.

  “First, I need to talk with my staff,” Grayson said. “Go have breakfast, and then you can meet me back here.”

  Grayson only said that so Moose would leave. He also didn’t want to admit that he liked the guy’s company. More than he should. He was becoming too dependent on the guy, and that made Grayson uncomfortable. He didn’t want Moose to get the wrong idea.

  Or was that the right idea? Grayson mentally groaned at the migraine starting in the back of his skull.

  “Call me if you have any trouble.” Moose wasn’t smiling. He had a hard glint in his eyes as he stared at the deputies and the receptionist. “Any trouble.”

  Grayson patted him on his thick arm. “Go eat, grumpy.”

  “Hey, that’s my name for you.” Moose winked and headed out the door.

  “Right this way, sir.” One of the deputies waved at a wooden door. “It’s our conference room.”

  Grayson headed in there for his first official staff meeting. He’d agreed to become sheriff after Archer had badgered him for nearly a year. Grayson had the qualifications and, according to the former sheriff, more than any other person in Maple Grove.

  Loving this town, Grayson had agreed. He wanted it to stay peaceful and a place where folks could raise their kids. Now he wasn’t so sure. He was itching to go home and kick back on a patio chair with a beer and Moose at the grill.

  He shook his head. He’d gotten too comfortable with doing nothing after a lifetime of always staying active, and Grayson wanted to get off his lazy bum and be a productive member of society again.

  In truth, retirement had been driving him crazy. Just a tad, though.

  “Sorry, sir,” the same deputy who had waved him into the room said. “Deputy Aaron Mills just radioed in. He went out on call when someone reported seeing a suspicious person in the alley behind the bakery.”

  There was an alley that ran the length behind the businesses on Main Street. There were also apartments above a few of those businesses.

  “Another act of vandalism?” This was getting ridiculous. Whoever had a vendetta against the town wasn’t playing around, and Grayson didn’t like that the person, or persons, was hitting homes almost daily. It would be twice in one day if someone had struck again.

  “No, sir.”

  Grayson looked at the guy’s nametag. The deputy was fairly new in Maple Grove. He didn’t recall seeing the guy before. His nametag said he was Deputy Benton.

  “Then what is it?”

  Deputy Benton swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his crane-like neck. “He found a dead body.”

  * * * *

  Moose hadn’t wanted to leave his mate, but he saw that Grayson had work to get done. He seriously doubted a gunman would run up in the station and shoot everyone. Grayson was safe, and that was what Moose kept telling himself as he walked three doors down to the diner.

  When Moose entered the diner, a bell jingled over his head and the delicious smell of breakfast filled his lungs as he looked around.

  The place wasn’t so much wide as it was long, like those diners that looked more like a fancy freight cart. There was even a counter that stretched the length. The entrance door was in the middle, and opposite the counter, there were maroon-colored booths lining the wall.

  Each booth had its own window, but most had the shades pulled to keep out the rising sun.

  The joint was crowded, too.

  “Sit anywhere you like,” a blonde waitress said.

  Moose turned a few heads as he found an empty booth toward the back by the end of the counter. He always turned heads because of his enormous size. Sometimes he scared people, although he never did it on purpose. Other times guys and gals flirted with him, wishing to conquer Mount Moose.

  Those days were over, though. He’d found his mate, and Moose was quite happy dealing with the grouchy human.

  Behind the counter was the big order window, and to the right was the big menu board. To the left were signs of regular food they served with big colorful pictures.

  Moose spotted a glass cake display on the counter and decided he’d take a few slices with him when he left.

  He grabbed a plastic menu from behind the metal condiment rack and was looking it over when a guy approached his table.

  “Sorry, no other seat is available. Do you mind if I have breakfast with you?” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Raven McCoy, the local mechanic. I own Timely Auto Repair over on the corner of Marvin Avenue and Bunt Road.”

  The guy was all dark looks and buff. He smelled a bit like oil, but he also smelled like wolf. Moose nodded and waved to the empty seat opposite him.

  His hand swallowed Raven’s when he shook it. “John Zitelli, but everyone calls me Moose.”

  Raven looked him up and down as he took a seat. “I can see why. You’re a big guy.”

  Moose grinned. “And still growing.”

  “I sure as hell hope not.” Raven smirked. “You look like you barely fit through the door as it is.”

  Moose looked down at his menu. He wanted to get breakfast over with so he could get back to his mate. Although he didn’t think anything would happen to Grayson, Moose didn’t like leaving him alone.

  And Grayson might need Moose’s help, even if he was too stubborn to ask.

  “I’m not gonna sit here and talk your head off,” Raven said. “Truthfully, that’s not my style. I just appreciate you letting me sit here.”

  “Not a problem.” Moose wasn’t trying to be rude. He just wasn’t very good at talking to strangers.

  They both looked out the diner window when two cop cars whizzed by, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Moose caught sight of his mate in the driver’s seat of one of the cruisers.

  Goddamn it. Grayson was supposed to stay at the station all day and take it easy. What the hell had him racing through town?

  “It’s probably the vandal,” Raven said. “I swear, if he touches my garage, I’ll find out who it is and gut him.”

  “Does this town always see so much excitement?”

  “Not usually,” Raven said. “Maple Grove is normally a quiet place to live.”

  Moose smiled when the waitress came to the table, and he ordered a cup of coffee. Raven did the same.

  “Do you fellas know what you want?”