Today I was fake arrested from my workplace.
Handcuffs were slapped onto my wrists (to the delight of my meddlesome younger sister) and I was taken directly from my bakery, to townhall and placed in a comfy, temporary jail cell with a group of other jovial townspeople also “arrested” for the day.
I’m happy to be here, supporting the spring fundraiser for the county food bank.
Except…
Sheriff Underwood, the very same intimidating orc I’ve been crushing on for the last six months, is the officer who personally apprehended me. The male who normally ignores my very existence. But the moment those prop handcuffs went around my wrists, he growled and sniffed my hair?
After we’re all settled in our cell with donuts and coffee, a tornado siren blares.
The Sheriff stands much too close, a rough hand on my hip and his lips against my ear.
Mmm. Maybe he does know I exist?
