Riley’s Downfall(42)

“You could try, or you could just pull over,” Chauncey said with a snicker. “But I would opt for pulling over. I’m too pertty to go to jail.”

“Yeah,” Sterling said as he licked his lips, feeling his mouth dry out, “me, too.” Sterling slowed the truck, pulling over to the soft shoulder, and put the truck in park, turning the key and shutting the motor off.

He was sweating bullets.

His entire body stiffened when the cop slid from his patrol car and walked toward the truck, his towering frame seeming larger than life. Sterling saw bars in his future.

“He’s coming toward us,” Sterling whispered to Chauncey from the side of his mouth.

“They tend to do that when they pull you over.” Chauncey chuckled.

Sterling was a nervous wreck. He had never been stopped by cops. Ever.

“Do you know what speed you were going, son?” the cop asked as he approached Sterling’s side of the truck. The man was wearing mirrored sunglasses, hiding his eyes. That was not helping Sterling relax. He imagined big, bloodred eyes that would hypnotize Sterling into confessing everything he had done wrong in his life. He was ready to jump from the truck and beg to man not to arrest him for running that frog over.

“No,” he whispered, averting his eyes, terrified the man was going to haul him from the truck as Sterling was kicking and screaming.

“The speed limit is fifty-five, son. You were going seventy.”

“I’m dyslexic?”

He heard Chauncey laugh beside him as the cop pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, his stern blue eyes filled with bafflement. “That still makes it fifty-five. And the word is dyscalculia when it pertains to numbers.”

Oh, hell. Sterling would have to get stopped by a cop who knew his shit.

“Is that a pig in a seat belt?” the cop asked as he leaned into the truck. “Why isn’t he in the back of the truck?”

“Ask him.” Chauncey pointed to Sterling, looking as if he was having a real good time with this. Sterling was glad someone found it amusing. He, on the other hand, was scared shitless.

“She’s just a baby,” Sterling said softly, unable to look the cop in his face.

The cop pulled back from the window, scratching his fingers over his chin. “I’m gonna let you go this time, only because you are too damn peculiar. Watch your speed and”—he waved at the seat—“get a car seat if you’re going to haul a baby pig into the front with you.”

“Really?” Sterling asked in surprise. He never thought of that. It would be a smart thing to do.

“No.” The cop shook his head as he walked away.

“You’re dyslexic?” Chauncey asked and then fell into the passenger door, hoots of laughter filling the cab. Sterling frowned as he slowly pulled back onto the road, watching his speed very carefully.

They drove into town, without any more incidents.

“I’m going to the feedstore first. I have to get a few things for Bacon,” he said as he parked the truck and unbelted his piglet, pulling Bacon to his chest and climbing out. Chauncey slammed the truck door and joined Sterling on the sidewalk.

“Good, I need to pick a few things up as well.”

Sterling spotted the same flirtatious clerk standing behind the counter, but this time Sterling avoided the man. He was mated now. He was in a solid relationship. No man would ever do it for him except Riley. And his big bear had claimed him. Sterling couldn’t be happier. He walked around with a big goofy smile on his face now every time he thought of Riley. The man was the cat’s meow in Sterling’s book.

Or was that the bear’s…growl?

“Back again?” the man asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

Jeez.

“I just need to pick up a few things for my piglet.”

“Where’s your nonboyfriend?” the man asked as he leaned over the counter, openly ogling Sterling from head to toe. He didn’t like it.

“At home,” he answered and then grabbed a few things from the shelves he thought Bacon would love. Chauncey walked into the feedstore, and Sterling noticed the clerk straighten. He must have realized that Chauncey wasn’t Riley, because he relaxed once more.

“I’ll take these items, please,” Sterling said as he approached the counter, setting down the things he had picked pick out for Bacon.

The man pulled the items closer to ring them up, but grazed Sterling’s hand. The move was slow, intimate, and done on purpose. “I could make going out with me worth your while.”

Sterling pulled his hand back. “No, thank you.”

The clerk set the harness down and grabbed Sterling’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. “Are you sure?”