All of the Voices by Bailey Bradford (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📗

booked for anyone else for at least, say, a week?” Oh God, please don’t make me stay in this hell hole that long. But he’d stay as long as needed.

The clerk quit glaring at him long enough to tap at the keyboard. “You Mary Hawkins’ nephew?”

Carlin jerked before he could stop himself. “How the fu—how the—?” Okay, not hell, either. After sputtering for a few seconds while the clerk smirked, Carlin finally found that smooth tongued devil he pulled out for the judges and juries. Pasting on his best tired and timid smile, Carlin dropped his gaze to his shoes, knowing the sheepish look was his best bet at charming the clerk. “I’m sorry, it’s been a horrible couple of days and a long, tiring trip. I imagine I’ve already come off like a prig. How’d you know who I was?”

The clerk snorted and tapped the keyboard some more. “Small town gossip. Likely I knew you was here ‘fore you did. Sorry about Mrs. Hawkins, she was…she was something else. As for the rest, reckon you can be ’scused for walking in here like you was God Himself.”

Well, how very charitable of you to ’scuse me, you twit. Carlin bit his cheek as he fisted his hands in his pockets. Flies and honey, don’t forget. “Ah. I’m not really familiar with small towns, and Aunt Mary was…” Carlin didn’t have to fake the emotion in his voice. He’d loved Mary for all her quirks and her support, once she’d given it. “I loved her a great deal.” The admission was easy to make. Carlin didn’t believe it made one weak to love, only stronger. Which didn’t explain why he ardently tried not to get attached to another man, but whatever.

“Then maybe you shoulda visited her once in a while,” the clerk sniped, and Carlin very nearly resorted to violence as he imagined his fist connecting solidly with the man’s jaw. “Room one-nineteen, down toward the end. Ain’t no different than the others. They’s just rooms.”

“I offered to buy Aunt Mary a roundtrip ticket to visit me in New York several times,” Carlin ground out against his better judgment. “She always refused, and I have other obligations—”

The clerk snorted. “Yeah, well, guess no one felt obligated toward her. Need your credit card and license.”

“Sure.” Carlin dug his wallet out of his back pocket, shame and anger making it take longer than it should have. He refused to care what this…this hick thought about him. There were reasons why Carlin hadn’t been able to come to McKinton besides the fact he didn’t want to experience any Smalltown, USA. Not that he’d share that information with someone who so clearly thought Carlin was an asshole. Let him think whatever he wanted. Carlin plucked out a credit card and his license and handed them over, determined not to let the obnoxious man get to him.

“New Yorkers,” the clerk snorted. “Figures.”

Carlin merely arched an eyebrow at the guy and silently willed an invasion of bedbugs on the man. Which was not a wise choice for payback, since the whole motel would end up infested. Fine. I hope he has a nasty bout of dysentery. He nearly snorted himself. Like there was such a thing as a ‘not nasty bout of dysentery’.

Once he’d finished checking in, Carlin opted to skip stopping by his room to drop off his luggage. As tired as he was, he still wasn’t in a hurry to see the inside of what he was sure was a crappy room. Besides, he wanted to talk to the sheriff and the deputy who’d found Aunt Mary. He had his doubts about whether or not her emergency call had been answered rapidly.

It didn’t take him long at all to get to the Sheriff’s Department. That was one thing McKinton had over New York, Carlin supposed. It would have taken him forty-five minutes in morning traffic to go the distance from the motel to the Sheriff’s Department had he been driving in New York.

Then again, he didn’t drive in New York for exactly that reason. Traffic was a real bitch. Carlin took a moment to check his appearance in the mirror attached to the car’s visor. It wouldn’t do to confront the sheriff looking like a rumpled, emotional mess. He couldn’t do much about his suit, but his hair had been cut in such a way as to always look good. Court room professional or casual, sexy lover, all it took was a moment or two and Carlin could appear as either. A flicker of movement caught Carlin’s eye and his breath hitched when he cocked his head to the side to get a better look. Oh, damn.

Another thing McKinton had over New York was the very attractive male bodies clothed in the dark uniforms of the Sheriff’s Department. Seemed like every cop Carlin had ever seen in the Big Apple was sporting a gut that’d make finding said cops’ dick darn near impossible without the help of a crane.

Of course, Carlin was out, way out, and he was a lawyer, so cops weren’t exactly likely to flock to him, and certainly none like the ones currently in his line of sight. The two men in the parking lot walking up to the door of the building were both very fine. One was taller than the other and wearing a cowboy hat, his shoulders broad, waist small, and his ass was quite tempting.

But it was the other man who truly caught Carlin’s attention. A few inches shorter and several pounds lighter, the guy had a butt that made Carlin’s mouth water, which was funny as he definitely preferred to bottom. Lean, almost too much so, and long legs that Carlin wanted to feel quivering as he bounced on the man’s cock. This guy had a hat, too, though he was holding it in his hand. His very big hand. Carlin dragged his gaze up the man’s back to his wide shoulders, admiring their breadth for a