by Gina LaManna
“Oh, no, honey. Business boomed the day after Grant’s murder,” my mother said. “God rest his soul—I’d never wish that on my worst enemy—but all of the regular gossips were here. It was like a haunted house tour visiting all the places Grant stepped before he died.”
“That’s morbid.”
“Best day of sales in two years.”
“Well, since we can’t count on murder as a sales driving device,” I said. “Let’s think of something else.”
“I didn’t mean you had to solve all my problems, just that you should think about what you want to do while you’re here. I hope you’re here for a really long time. I want you to stay, and I want you to be happy. Take some time to think about what would make you happy.”
I dug my toe into the carpet. “I read some self-help titles at the airport. It seems like I need to be an organic gardener, a Zen Buddhist, and a minimalist with no material possessions in order to achieve happiness.”
“I think you need to throw all those books away.”
“Oh, I didn’t buy the books,” I assured her. “Much too expensive. Those are just the titles.”
My mother laughed, then opened her arms and pulled me in for a brief hug. “I know you’ll find what makes you tick. Don’t put all the pressure on yourself to save my store, find a murderer, and get yourself all sorted out in a week. These things take time. My only point was that you should be thinking about it. Sooner or later, Grant’s murderer will be found, and you won’t be able to distract yourself by playing cops and robbers any longer. By the way, I’ll need the truck this afternoon.”
My mother’s abrupt change of subject drove me back to reality, but the rest of her thoughts wormed their way into my brain and sat there, marinating, as I began the walk home. My mother had offered to drop me at Gran’s, but I had my sturdy boots on and the sun was shining, so I decided to make the trek on foot.
Just as June had predicted, temperatures were creeping up toward the mid-forties and the snow that had fallen this morning was already beginning to melt. Maybe spring wasn’t so far off. With the change in seasons, I’d need to make some updates to my life, as well.
I made it home and stood before the old Victorian house, flexing my fingers and scrounging up the guts to go inside. But I wasn’t ready to be brave.
I chickened out at the last second and pointed my feet toward Matt’s instead. I tried to talk myself out of knocking on his door before it was too late, but I couldn’t. I heard the rap, rap, rap of my knuckles and felt the rush of relief as his familiar, smiling face appeared in the doorway.
“Hi,” I said slowly. “I’m going to be honest. I’m not sure why I’m here.”
“Didn’t want to go home yet?”
I cocked my head to the side. “That’s part of it. And now I feel horrible, like I’m using you as a distraction.”
He laughed. “Use me as much as you like. I just had a ballgame on TV. Are you by chance here to steal some coffee, too?”
“No,” I said, and then reconsidered. “But I wouldn’t be opposed if you’re offering.”
He grinned again and gestured for me to follow him into the kitchen. “It’s halftime,” he said as an explanation when I glanced guiltily over at the television. “I’ll let you know if we’re missing anything.”
“Thanks,” I said, twining my fingers around one another. “Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about that doesn’t involve murder.”
“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good.” Matt tapped the start button to the coffee machine and the crackle of newly brewed caffeine filled the room. “Are you breaking up with me? I feel like I’ve heard the start to this before—if you say it’s not me, it’s you, I will be forced to withhold your coffee.”
“I know you’re teasing me,” I said with a flimsy smile. “Seeing how we’re not dating and all, but that’s actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Aha.”
I wasn’t sure if it should be a relief that Matt looked unsurprised, or if that made things worse. Either way, I felt horrible. I felt like I was letting him down, even though there was hardly anything between us to let down. I’d only been in town a few days. How had things gotten so complicated this quickly?
“It’s Coop, isn’t it?” Matt ventured. “I heard you have a date with him tonight.”
I hesitated, stunned. “Uh—what?”
“Small town, word travels like wildfire at the firehouse,” he said with a joking smile. “No pun intended. It’s fine, Jenna. I’m not upset.”
I stared hard into the faux-marble countertop of Matt’s kitchen island. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how things escalated so quickly. You weren’t expecting anything from me, right? I didn’t somehow agree to all that without knowing?”
He laughed. “You have nothing to worry about. We made a cake together, that’s all. I used to make cakes with your Gran now and again when she needed extra hands preparing for a party. It’s what neighbors do.”
“Am I wrong in feeling like you don’t want to be only neighbors?” I asked. “Is that all in my head?”
“I sure feel differently about you than I felt about your Gran,” he said with a dry chuckle, “so if that’s something to go off, then I guess the answer would be no—it’s not all in your head. But I understand if you’re not interested. I can’t do much about the fact that my kitchen window looks into your yard, but I promise to leave you alone outside of normal neighborly interactions.”
“No—no! It’s not that at all,” I said. “I don’t want you to leave me alone. I’m sorry. Everything I’m saying is coming out wrong.”
“Once again, you’ve nothing to worry about.” Matt plopped a mug of coffee in front of me. It had a smiley face on one side, and he tapped at it gently with his finger. “Relax. I’m content with being just neighbors, believe it or not. You don’t need to say more.”
I nodded, feeling tears pool in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I sniffed. “You’re just so nice.”
“Can I give you a hug? I hate to see you like this.”
I nodded again as he reached for me and pulled me against him. My head rested against his chest, a few stray trickles of tears dampened his shirt, and things felt right.
“It’s okay.” Matt stroked my hair, smelling of fresh coffee and spicy aftershave. He’d showered since I left this morning, and he smelled nice. “Just hang here for as long as you need.”
“I don’t know why I’m so emotional. I mean, I’ve been through a recent breakup, but—”
“Well, that explains a lot. Plus the fact that you moved across the country, were accused of murder, and had your house broken into. You’re allowed to feel upset.”
As he stroked my hair, I tried my hardest to stir up feelings of butterflies and shocks of adrenaline that resembled falling in love, but I couldn’t get anything fluttering inside. I was content like this, as friends, and I hoped that would be enough.
“I suppose it has been a lot,” I admitted, pulling back and wiping my eyes. “The murder and all that, plus the breakup, and more importantly, the stupid airline losing my bag with the latest necklace from Minnie Monroe in it!”
Matt moved around to his side of the counter. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you need the necklace. You look great without it. Now, can we get you to stop crying? I hate to see you upset.”
“I was worried about what you’d think—”
“Stop worrying,” he interrupted. “You’ve been honest from the start.” He raised his coffee mug in salute. “Friends?”
“I don’t know,” I said, letting a small smile peek out. “Can friends still come over in their pajamas and steal your coffee?”
“Anytime,” he said. “If you’re not ready to head home, how about you watch the game for a bit? I have two huge couches and a blanket that’s magical.”
“A magical blanket?”
“It’s impossible not to nap underneath it,” Matt said seriously, guiding me into the livi
ng room. “I dare you to try it.”
I snuggled into one of Matt’s two couches under the magical blanket. Matt sat on the other sipping his coffee—though a beer sat open and a bag of chips next to it from before I’d arrived—and kicked up his feet on the ottoman. The couch was squashy and lumpy and brown, and utterly perfect for warm winter naps under the glow of the afternoon sun.
Despite downing a cup of caffeine minutes before, I was out by the time halftime was over. I didn’t wake until the game had concluded and someone was pounding on the door.
Chapter 15
One eyelid pulled open slowly, then the other, as voices danced around my skull. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so deeply asleep that coming awake had felt like emerging from the depths of the Atlantic Ocean.
I shook my head, and still, the cobwebs remained. It sounded to me like Cooper and Matt were having another conversation on Matt’s front steps. Maybe I was having déjà vu from this morning. Maybe this magical blanket had sent me back in time and I was getting a Groundhog-ish repeat of the day. Maybe...crap!
Maybe it was really happening.
I threw the magical blanket off my body and stumbled drunkenly into the hallway. I quickly shifted my sweater dress into position and ran a hand through my gnarly hair, but one glance in the reflection of the window told me I looked like a complete and utter mess.
I careened around the corner, stunning both men into silence. Cooper and Matt stared at me while I blinked sleep from my eyes. Behind them, the sky was tinged black with night.
“How long have I been asleep?” I asked, still trying to get my bearings. “I feel like I was hibernating for months.”
“I told you, the blanket is magic,” Matt said with a thin smile. “Guess it worked?”
“Guess so. I’ve never felt so refreshed in my life, and Cooper—where are you going?”
The chief had turned away at the mention of magical blankets and made his way down the front steps. If I wasn’t wrong, there was a distinctly moody step to his gait. I gave Matt a frustrated expression.
“What did I say?” I asked. “I’m not dating him, either! Even less than you!”
Matt seemed pleased by this. “I believe he thinks otherwise.”
“Oh, good grief,” I said. “I have to go explain a few things to him. I’m sorry. Are you going to be okay here?”
“I’m fine,” he said with a grin. Then he leaned in and surprised me with a quick kiss to the cheek. “You’re always welcome here as a friend, Jenna. To use the magical blanket—or steal my coffee.”
“Thank you,” I said, clasping his hand in mine and squeezing it tight. “More than anything, I needed a friend this week. I would have hated to go home alone this afternoon, so thank you for being there for me.”
“If you change your mind on what we talked about earlier,” he said, with a raised shoulder, “let me know.”
“I will,” I said, smiling. “I promise.”
As I threw on my jacket and boots, I broke into a jog from Matt’s front steps and caught up with Cooper at the split between my front door and the driveway. “Hey,” I called, skidding to a stop in front of the chief. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I kept on skidding, however, and if it wasn’t for Cooper’s lightning fast response time, I’d have plowed right into a snowbank—again. As it was, he managed to catch my arm in time to pull me back, the movement snapping me right up against his chest.
I was breathing heavily, probably from the jog, and the unique scent of Cooper held me captive against him. The darkness, the smell of him, the proximity between our beating hearts—something held me there and loosed an entire net of butterflies in my stomach. Wings flapped firmly in every direction and electricity zinged all the way down to my toes. To my great dismay.
Why couldn’t I feel this way about Matt? My warm, open, caring neighbor. Instead, I had to feel this way about the brooding, moody chief of police who seemed intent on catching me as I broke every rule in his little book. Those dark eyes, that dark, unruly flop of curls—I let out a guttural sigh. Things just weren’t going my way here in Blueberry Lake.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you,” Cooper said in a low, rumbling voice. “I didn’t realize you were having sleepovers with Matt.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I changed your lock. Your mother called when she saw my truck here and asked why you hadn’t let me in.”
“My mother is spying on me? And she called you?”
“I was worried,” he said. “You didn’t answer, but your mother said you should be home. She’d left you stranded without a car. So naturally, with there being a break-in this morning, I panicked.”
“I’m sorry to have scared you,” I said. “When I came home this afternoon from the thrift store, I didn’t want to be alone, so I went to my neighbor’s house. Now, it’s freezing, so can we please go inside? I think we should talk.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about.” Cooper gave me a tense smile. “Maybe I’ll see you at the event tonight.”
“Will you just listen for a minute?” I blurted. “Come inside so we can talk. If it makes you feel better, you can pretend it’s to show me how to work my new door.”
“I didn’t get you a new door. I changed your lock.”
“Whatever.”
I felt the beginnings of a smile from him as I walked toward the house, stomping up the front stairs and letting myself inside without once thinking about the intruder who’d broken in this morning. One way to get over my fear of being alone in this big empty house was to get so worked up I forgot about the problem entirely.
I paused in the doorway and glanced back. Cooper hadn’t moved. “Are you coming inside?”
The chief stood still with his hands in his pocket, no hat, and a hearty winter jacket. He looked like he belonged in this environment, his hair mussed lightly by the breeze and pricked with bright bits of drifting snow. He was downright gorgeous, and it wasn’t fair.
Eventually, he shoved forward, climbing up the stairs and into the entryway. He left just enough space for me to close and lock the door behind him.
“Are you going to stand there and make me uncomfortable all evening, or would you like to kick off your shoes and stay for a minute? I’d offer you coffee, but I don’t have any.”
“So I heard,” he said dryly. “You steal your neighbor’s.”
“That’s right,” I said, making my way toward the kitchen. I unearthed a few hot chocolate packets in the cupboard that weren’t expired, and the teakettle Gran had used for the last seven decades. “Want some hot chocolate?”
He gave a muffled reply that I took to mean yes, and I pulled out two mugs from the cabinet. While I worked, he leaned against the counter looking like he didn’t quite belong. He had no clue what to do with himself. The chief was so out of his element it was cute in a way.
“Let me show you how that door of yours works,” he began, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “It should be simple—”
“I know how to work a door,” I said, giving him a wry smile. “I’m not that out of touch with the world. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Roping me in under false pretenses?”
I worried my light-hearted banter had gone right over his head because he sounded gruff and serious, but when I turned and found him watching me with the shadow of a grin, I knew he was teasing me right back. And that smile would be the death of me.
“Yes, exactly.” I poured the hot water onto the chocolate powders, mixed in a tiny bit of milk and a whole lot of marshmallows. Handing one over to the chief earned me another look of incredulity. “What’s this?”
“Hot chocolate and marshmallows,” I said. “Try it. Your sweet tooth will thank me.”
He took a sip. “Not horrible.”
“Not horrible?” I frowned. “You must be the hardest man to please. These are perfect.”
We lapsed into silence, the
threat of normal, small-talk conversation hovering over us. I could tell that on one hand, Cooper didn’t want to overstep his professional boundaries. On the other hand, I was almost certain he felt the same pull toward me that I felt toward him. And so we came to an impasse.
“The door—” he began.
“Sure,” I said too quickly, interrupting him. “The door.”
Cooper showed me how to unlock the back door. An utterly useless demonstration since it was like every other door in existence. He handed over the key.
“I feel about as stupid as I ever have,” he said with a shy smile as I grabbed the key. “I probably didn’t need to show you how to do that.”
“I probably could’ve stopped you a few minutes back,” I agreed. “You know, at the part where you said ‘insert the key into the lock’, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“Now why would you think I’m so easily scared away?” The chief leaned against the wall and sipped his hot chocolate. “Do I look that fragile?”
“You just about ran away after you found me at Matt’s.”
“That’s different.”
The back entrance was too small for a duo of full-grown adults, especially ones who didn’t want to get too close to one another. The temperature felt like it had risen to a hundred degrees, and I fanned myself.
“How is that different?” I demanded. “I thought we discussed the fact that tonight isn’t a date.”
“It’s not, but I was going to offer to give you a ride after seeing you didn’t have a vehicle at your disposal,” he said. “But I am not the sort of guy who’ll pick up another man’s girlfriend.”
“Matt and I aren’t dating.”
“It didn’t feel like that to me,” he said, raising a hand, “and I didn’t want to step on any toes.”