Mated to the Sheriff

By Diana DeRicci

Matt is starting over.

Matt Landon is moving from New York to Silo to start over. After escaping an abusive relationship, his only thought is a quiet place to heal. His scars run deep and all he wants is a chance to regroup and privately lick his wounds as he takes time to put his life back together.
Silo isn’t like New York. People know your name in Silo. People care. And most of all, they support each other as Matt quickly finds out when he begins to make friends through his ex-turned-best friend Peyton, and his family. Friends who will help in any way they can, which include being introduced to the local sheriff’s department personally.

No one could have prepared him for one sheriff in particular, Dave Hanlon.

Dave never thought much about meeting his mate. He knew he was borderline asexual and was okay with that, not that concerned with labels. He had the pride of his job, his friends, and his pack. He’d never longed for more. Meeting Matt only enforces that belief. His wolf senses his mate, but Dave doesn’t feel a thing for the shy, sweet man.
Time together brings a new understanding for Dave, and perhaps a chance to get to know the blond who captured his wolf’s interest. But the unwelcome attention of a stalker makes Matt’s life a living hell all over again.
Will Dave and Matt be able to explore the new sides of themselves they are finding with each other, or will the stalker have the final say, ripping apart a fragile beginning?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Purple Sword Publications
• Release date: Jul 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005244231

Diana DeRicci

Diana DeRicci is the sexy, flirty pen name of Diana Castilleja. A romance author at heart, DeRicci’s writing takes you into a saucier spectrum of sensuality and sexual adventure, where a happily-ever-after is still the key to any story. Diana lives in Central Texas with her husband, one son and a feisty little Chihuahua named Rascal. You can catch the latest news on all of Diana DeRicci’s writing and books on her website Listed above. Feel free to drop Diana an email. She’d love to hear from you.

Book preview

MATED TO THE SHERIFF

Diana DeRicci

Published By Purple Sword Publications, LLC

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

Copyright © 2021 DIANA DERICCI

ISBN 9781005244231

Edited by Traci Markou

Cover Art Designed by Traci Markou

Images Copyright Volodymyr Tverdokhlib, Indiemonozar, Nurakenza99 Dreamstime.com

Matt is starting over.

Matt Landon is moving from New York to Silo to start over. After escaping an abusive relationship, his only thought is a quiet place to heal. His scars run deep and all he wants is a chance to regroup and privately lick his wounds as he takes time to put his life back together.

Silo isn’t like New York. People know your name in Silo. People care. And most of all, they support each other as Matt quickly finds out when he begins to make friends through his ex-turned-best friend Peyton, and his family. Friends who will help in any way they can, which include being introduced to the local sheriff’s department personally.

No one could have prepared him for one sheriff in particular, Dave Hanlon.

Dave never thought much about meeting his mate. He knew he was borderline asexual and was okay with that, not that concerned with labels. He had the pride of his job, his friends, and his pack. He’d never longed for more. Meeting Matt only enforces that belief. His wolf senses his mate, but Dave doesn’t feel a thing for the shy, sweet man.

Time together brings a new understanding for Dave, and perhaps a chance to get to know the blond who captured his wolf’s interest. But the unwelcome attention of a stalker makes Matt’s life a living hell all over again.

Will Dave and Matt be able to explore the new sides of themselves they are finding with each other, or will the stalker have the final say, ripping apart a fragile beginning?

Chapter 1

Matt drove his car up in front of the abundantly beflowered house and stopped. It took a few minutes to relax his clenched hands enough to release the steering wheel. After driving for over twenty hours from New York to the middle of nowhere, America, he was done. He should have taken more breaks. His physical therapist warned him about making the drive and not stopping enough. What it would do to his legs, and his hip. He knew that, and he’d tried, stopping frequently, making the trip seem interminably long. But sometimes stubborn was all he had to get him through his days. He also should have maybe stayed one more night somewhere, instead of pushing through. For most people, it probably could have been a straight shot.

Before… Before it would have been easy for him, too.

But not now. Now his hip throbbed like a demon had taken root and kicked off his New Year’s party of torture. His palms and fingers ached from the relentless hours of gripping the wheel. His neck burned from sleeping poorly on a rack that had been disguised as a roadside motel bed. He was done.

Which was why he was in Silo.

This was a new start. No one knew him here except for his ex, Peyton. No one knew what he’d been through. No one in Silo knew of the high-publicity, sordid court case he’d had to suffer through to make sure his own ex and attacker was actually put in jail, and that he stayed there this time.

All anyone saw was what he let them see.

Finally turning off the car, he cracked open the door, feeling the summer breeze as it brushed over his skin. Hot but not too humid, a different, less sultry heat than he was used to in New York. He swung his legs around to find his footing. Pins and needles shot through his legs as blood rushed through them. At least he knew he was alive feeling that pain.

Before he’d fully gained his balance leaning against the opened door, the front door on the seashell pink painted house swept open.

Matt! Peyton hopped down the steps and jogged up to him beside the car. I thought I heard someone pull up. He started to reach for Matt, to give him a welcoming hug, but hesitated. Is this okay? he asked.

I would love a hug right now, he admitted.

Peyton moved in and gathered him close. So glad you made it safely. I was worried. You sounded so tired last night.

I managed. I often don’t sleep well anymore.

Peyton ran soothing palms over his back before stepping away. Matt was too exhausted and greedy to be the one to pull away first. Because of what happened? Brown eyes studied him, searching for the lie and the truth.

Yeah. Once Peyton had put some space between them, he inched away from the car also. But I’m here. He almost cried at the welcome Peyton gave him. He had no reason, not one, to treat Matt kindly. Not after he’d done the dickest thing a boyfriend could do and dropped him without warning over someone else. It had been the worst mistake of his life.

Kelly is inside. He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. He didn’t want to alarm you because you don’t know him. But you’ll like him. He’s a sweet teddy bear. We just had his return to duty party a few days ago. There’s so much to tell you. But the big one is, you have a place to stay. It’s safe, and it’s quiet.

That’s exactly what I need. Matt tried to smile. He put a hand to his lower back and pushed, groaning as the muscles stretched.

Let’s get you inside first. We’ll do the rest later. Okay?

Matt convinced his legs to work, to step away from the car to be able to close the door. Peyton matched his stride as they aimed for the front door. Sure. I really appreciate everything you’ve done, that you’re still doing.

Peyton pshawed and waved a hand. Please. He paused at the steps. Look, we talked about this. We are fine now. He waved his finger between them. As friends. I forgave you, and now you need help. Friends help each other. End of story.

Matt sniffed, fighting the pressure behind his eyes. Hard. I know. He cleared his throat. But—

No ‘buts’. Peyton sighed, reaching for the door knob, as his voice gentled. It caused a new wash of aches to crash through Matt’s chest at what he’d foolishly and callously thrown away. It’s okay, M. Really. Life happens in a certain way. It’s what we do with it, how we react to make our choices. This is my choice.

It makes you a much bigger, better man than I can ever hope to be.

Well, you have time now to catch up, he teased with a wink. Come on in so you can meet Kelly. Then we’ll get you settled. We’re working on getting everyone playing the musical house game we have going on completely moved so we can get you into the place in back. So you’re going to have Mom’s guestroom for a few weeks.

He opened the door as he explained and Matt nodded, swallowing, trying to take it all in, trying to not fall apart, trying to not collapse in a bundle of exhaustion and gratitude. What did a clump of sobs even look like?

He didn’t get to find out.

My partner, Kelly Archer and my mom, Pauline Ackerman. Matthew Landon.

He let the word partner flow over him, not feeling the pain he thought he would face with meeting Kelly. Peyton had definitely moved on. It was exactly what he deserved.

Matt faced the man Peyton was talking about as he stood to reach his feet, along with a shorter woman with a bright pink stripe in her hair. Kelly wore a brown sheriff’s uniform.

We’re so glad you could come stay with us, Pauline said, offering a hand.

Thank you, he mumbled, shaking her hand and fighting to not retreat as Kelly reached out for the same.

It’s good to meet you, he said. Peyton has told us both a lot about you. And, he paused, glancing toward Peyton. Matt caught the tender smile shared between them. We’re here if you need anything.

I really appreciate that.

Let’s bring his stuff in, let him and Mom talk. Peyton moved aside for Matt to get past.

Pauline offered her hand again, and guided him to a chair beside hers. You look beat. Do you drink sweet tea?

I would love some, he replied, watching as Kelly and Peyton vanished out the front door, probably to go get his bags. He should be doing that. But he wasn’t going to say anything. It had been hard enough getting them into the trunk. He hated to think about getting them back out.

Pauline went into the kitchen and brought back a large glass of tea with ice floating in it. There were coasters on the table, so he assumed this was a regular drink in the house. A sip turned into three before he put it down. That is good.

Peyton had said you needed a place to say, some place quiet for a while. The boys are working to get out of the detached room in the back. Once they do, it’s yours.

Oh, thank you. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, wondering how he could stretch out his funds to pay for it. He had a settlement for the physical assault coming to him, but he didn’t expect to see it for some time. Do you charge rent?

I won’t be charging you. You are a guest. There will be a few house rules while you’re in the guest room, and then in the back.

Matt blinked, sure that there would be something to pay, but her face was serene. She didn’t evade or even blink. You’re going to let me stay here for free? And what kind of rules?

I would usually charge but we’re all here to help first. As for the rules, I’m a mother, not a maid. You do something that requires clean up, don’t leave it for me to do. The laundry is in the back of the house and that will be available regardless of which roof you’re under. I also teach in Stiller Springs and will have semester workshops. I’ll be out of the house a lot, then. The house itself is yours, TV, bathroom, whatever you need. But not my bedroom.

He immediately shook his head. I wouldn’t dream of it.

She patted his knee. I get a good vibe from you. Peyton didn’t tell us the details. Only that you had been hurt and were still in phases of recovery, thus the quiet. I can tell you’re a good boy, and deeply conflicted right now. But if you take it day by day, and look forward to your horizons while keeping your feet on the ground, good things will happen for you.

I rea— The door opened right then, cutting him off. The other two toddled in with all his bags, shutting the door behind them.

We’re going to put these in your bedroom, then Kelly needs to get to work.

Matt slowly stood, using the arm on the chair for balance. Thanks for the help, guys. I owe you.

Peyton returned a moment later and handed over the keys. You left these in the ignition.

Matt glared at the keys, then dropped his eyes. Thanks, he whispered.

I’m going to walk Kelly out. Be right back.

Matt nodded, sinking back in to the chair. The clutched keys dug into his tender palm. Peyton left around the corner, headed toward the rear of the house. Kelly hadn’t reappeared from the bedroom. He assumed they went out the back door.

Does that happen often? she asked kindly when they were alone.

A couple of times since… I lose track of things. My phone, the keys. His shoulders slumped where he sat. He didn’t want to mention the dyslexia. It only made him sound that much more pathetic. I’m a huge wreck.

If you need anything, or even to talk to someone, I have resources through the school district. And Kelly will too, for Silo specifically.

I’m okay. It was a tedious drive. He hated sounding so broken. He hated feeling broken.

I’ve done it once or twice. Now that you’re here and the boys have your things inside, why don’t you go rest for a while? Peyton and Kelly will be here for dinner tonight.

Matt pushed off the chair again. I would love that. He wrapped a hand around the iced tea and downed it.

I’ll take it, she offered kindly.

But—

And I meant it, but hon, you’re about to pass out. Let me show you the room. You’re welcome to get settled. The room and folks moving around won’t be for a few weeks yet. We can tell you about it at dinner.

Pauline slipped the iced tea glass from his fingers before he argued any further, then led him to the back of the house. This is the door to the rear, also the laundry. She patted one as she walked past it. She stopped a few feet down the hall. This will be your room. Peyton and Kelly are sharing the place in back for now. She opened the door for him. The bathroom is behind us opposite the laundry.

He gripped his keys harder. Mrs. Ackerman—

Pauline, please. The kids call me that.

A tremulous smile ghosted over his lips. Thank you, Pauline. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. You don’t even know me.

The kindness of her smile reached her eyes. I know you’re hurting, you’re tired, and you need friends. Let’s start there.

He nodded, agreeing silently. He slipped in to the room, not saying anything when she quietly closed the door behind him. His three larger bags were on the floor by the foot of his bed and his overnight bag sat on the comforter. Not quite everything to his name at the moment. He’d worry about unpacking them later. Careful of his next steps — his hip really was killing him, he sat down on the edge of the bed and covered his face with his hands.

And cried.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and he blinked through the dampness on his lashes. He found a box of tissues next to the bed and tugged out several to mop up his face. Too exhausted to think about doing more than kicking off his shoes, he lay down on top of the covers and curled himself into the pillow on the bed. It smelled like fabric softener and felt divine.

He fell asleep before he remembered he still gripped the clump of damp tissues in his fist.

Chapter 2

Matt woke, disoriented by the cream painted walls of the room and the softness of the bed. And it was still daytime. The blind was down, blocking the setting sunlight coming through the window, with lacy curtains draped in front of it to give the room a sense of taste. It was a nice room. Far better than the last hotel he’d stopped at. But roadside hotels weren’t there for more than a place to sleep. They surely weren’t meant to impress.

At least here he felt safe.

That made a world of difference. Even though it was only a nap, he felt considerably better, and better rested than he had in quite a long time. He clung to that with tight fingers. Getting healthy, healing, was the reason he’d dragged his entire life to Silo. Somewhere Ryan and his sycophant followers, ex-lovers, ex-victims, couldn’t follow him.

Ryan was in prison, but Matt knew better than to think he’d stay there. He had connections. People deep in his family’s pockets, so to say. He released a slow exhale. He couldn’t dwell on that. For now, he was safe. Ryan wasn’t anywhere near him, neither were the reporters. It had been an ugly court case. Trying to defame Matt, to make him look like he’d caused all this pain and suffering on himself, because he somehow wanted it.

He hated the media hounds.

But it was over. Gingerly, he braced a hand to straighten himself up to sit. He looked down when he felt the tissues still in his hands. He spotted a small trashcan next to the stand beside the bed and tossed them. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he focused on his next step. The next action he needed to take.

With all of that behind him, he’d found some stability by being meticulous in his actions to try to move forward. That step by step regimen of thinking helped to keep his focus set. So the next thing he needed to do was unpack, at least enough to allow him a few weeks of routine.

Pawing through his overnight bag, he searched for his toiletry bag. Next to that rested his bag with his prescriptions. He supposed another priority would be to find doctors and physical therapists here to continue his recovery. Sweeping a wayward lock of hair off his face, he straightened.

The closet was more than spacious enough for the little bit he unpacked. And he only needed a few dresser drawers for his essentials.

Once that was finished, he felt a little more settled. With his bags hidden away in the closet, he took his toiletries to the bathroom to wash up from the last stretch of his drive and his nap. Splashing water on his face and brushing his teeth helped immensely toward feeling more human. Things he used to take for granted as a part of simply existing, he made sure to enjoy.

His mobility might be degraded, but he wasn’t. He was alive. Matt was grateful for that, even though in the beginning he’d wondered if staying alive, breathing, existing, was worth it.

He shook his head, stepping away from those spiraling thoughts. Once in his room, he palmed the bottle he needed and shook out a pain pill. Enough to soothe the ache in his hip and leg.

How he’d thought he could actually hide how badly Ryan had hurt him still made him shake his head at his own stubborn stupidity.

He’d been hiding his tears of pain and barely walking by the time he’d reached his desk the morning after the attack. The doctor at the ER had berated him soundly for walking at all after he’d seen the X-rays.

Matt hadn’t known how deep the damage went. Over the months he’d been with Ryan, he’d gotten good at hiding his pain.

Ryan’s last attack had done more than cause pain. He should have listened to his body, but terror and conditioning had broken him. He was still cracked and unstable, but was slowly pulling the pieces together. He was healing. A slow process. And now he had the time.

One of the girls from the office had visited him during his recuperation at home. She’d brought him a book about the history of Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing pottery with colored lacquer powders and molten metals like gold and silver to salvage the piece. The belief was that even though the pottery had been broken, its repair not only strengthened it, but added to the beauty of the item, gave character to the story it told. He didn’t see himself that way in the least, but it was a traditional belief that had stuck with him, even months later. That maybe after everything he still had value, worth. It was one of the few books that had made

Reviews for Mated to the Sheriff

[Jericho Franke · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

APHOBIA: "You have no idea what you’re doing to me. I felt it earlier, holding you. I always thought I was immune, asexual, or something. I was obviously wrong. I only needed to wait for you."