His chest rumbled. “Starting something?”
She flattened her hand. “You’re awake?”
Luke shifted his hips, and a warm part of his anatomy told her just how awake he was.
“A warm, wiggling, naked woman in my bed has a way of getting me up early.”
Her hand brushed his erection. “You’re insatiable.”
Caging her hips in his hands, he pulled her on top of him.
Her toes started to tingle. “I have morning breath,” she offered in a weak protest.
Luke opened his eyes and offered a cheeky grin. “So do I.”
Some time later, fresh from the shower, Zoe padded around Luke’s kitchen with a steamy cup of coffee. He needed a grinder, she decided . . . and maybe a latte machine.
She chopped an onion to add to the eggs before pulling out a piece of paper and a pen from the obligatory kitchen junk drawer.
By the time Luke joined her, the eggs were cooked, the toast was jumping out of the overactive toaster, and Zoe was on her second cup of coffee.
He nuzzled her neck before pouring a cup for himself. “Good morning,” he said into his cup.
“Brat.” She laughed and set their plates on the table.
Luke found her list and started to read. “What’s this?”
“Kitchen must-haves. Your knives suck and I almost burned our breakfast.”
He took a forkful of her eggs and moaned. “If this is burned, don’t ever let me cook for you.”
She took a bite and removed the list from his hand. The window in front of his sink pushed out just far enough for a few herbs. With the closer proximity to water, Luke would be more inclined to make sure the plants didn’t starve.
He glanced at what she’d written and said, “So you rearrange my kitchen and fill it with things I have no idea how to use.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“Nope, nope.” He took another bite. “Hell to the no.”
“So when are Wyatt and Mel leaving this morning?”
“Their flight leaves at noon.”
“Did they need a ride? I didn’t hear anything about the arrangements.”
“No, his parents were flying out around the same time. They’re taking Hope to Disneyland before flying back to San Francisco.”
Zoe put jam on her toast, took a taste, and then scribbled on the long list of things the kitchen needed. “She’ll love that. Take her mind off her parents basking away in Fiji.”
“What is there to do in Fiji, anyway?” Luke asked.
She’d never been, but she knew people who had. Zoe pointed to the right. “You eat.” She pointed to the left. “Have sex . . .” With a back-and-forth wave, she continued, “Sit on the beach, have sex on the beach, eat a little more. You know, the basics.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She did, too. “We should go sometime.”
His grin told her he liked the idea.
Luke finished his plate and eyed what she’d left on hers. She pushed it his way and he dug in.
“So, the wedding is over.”
“Happily ever after,” Zoe said. “I think they’re gonna make it, too.”
“They make a great couple. Mel deserved a good guy.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Remember what I told you I would revisit after the wedding?”
She blinked a few times.
“Me moving to Texas.”
The thought didn’t hit her as hard, hearing it now. “You like Texas that much?”
“It has its good points.” He let his eyes linger over her, making sure she knew what he was talking about.
She thought of her apartment that didn’t have a yard . . . the weekend shifts at Nahana she was going to give notice to. The big houses on streets empty of familiar faces. “If you like Texas, you should move.”
He narrowed his gaze.
“I probably won’t be there, but I can visit you.”
“You’re moving?”
“Probably.”
Luke stopped eating. “Where to?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
He tried not to smile too wide. Luke picked up the list again. “A bird feeder?”
Zoe waved a hand to the kitchen sink. “I have to have something to look at out there.”
They cleaned the dishes together, and Zoe took inventory of what they had on hand for dinner. The Sunday farmers’ market would be setting up in town and would offer a few of the things on her list. She dug a little deeper in the fridge. The wine she’d brought to pair with fish wasn’t inside.
She thought of Luke’s comment about how Wyatt and Mel didn’t need a wine refrigerator and had to laugh. Looked like Mr. I’m Happy With Beer was getting a taste for the good stuff.
With a big hat and a massive canvas bag, she grabbed Luke and headed to the market.
While they didn’t continue to discuss where she was going to move, Zoe did notice the space Luke had made in his dresser drawers.
Fog sat low to the track at River Bend High.
Jo sat on the last step of the stands, lacing up her running shoes and checking her watch.
This was so much better than a formal dress and high heels.
She’d never been much of a girlie girl. Probably a byproduct of being raised by a man, and a cop at that.
She learned to shoot at an early age and had skills befitting a Boy Scout by the time she entered elementary school.
At two minutes past six, the sound of a motorcycle interrupted her internal rant about the blisters on her feet created by fancy shoes.
Without words, Zane took a spot next to her and pulled off his boots. “Mind telling me what we’re doing here?”
She looked at his feet before standing. “You’re bright. You’ll figure it out.”
She leaned against the bleacher in a calf stretch and moved to the next leg.
“It’s cold out here,” Zane bitched as he tugged on a worn pair of running shoes.
She lifted her chin and took off before calling behind her shoulder, “Keep up, Brown.”
A tiny lift of her lips stayed until he matched her pace. The second lap around the track was when Zane started asking questions. “What the hell am I doing here?”
“Exercise is good for you.”
“You should only be running if a cop is chasing you.”
Jo couldn’t help but smile.
Zane let his lips split in a grin, too.
“Is Zoe still here?”
Jo considered how much to tell Zane. She knew for this to work he’d have to trust her, and that would require a few quiet moments. “No. She left last night.”
Zane didn’t comment.
“She’ll be back.”
“She seems to be here a lot this year.”
Jo ran for another quarter lap before making a comment.
“There’s a lot to bring her around.”
It was Zane’s turn to wait to talk. “There’s a lot to keep her away, too.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“Yeah, your dad coming home has put her back.”
Zane gave her a sideways glance and then concentrated on breathing. Breathing that was becoming more and more difficult as the laps accumulated.
A mile and a half into the run, Zane started to drag. “How many do you run?”
Jo picked up her pace and said, “Not cold any longer, are you?”
She’d lost count of her laps and slowed only when she noticed the cars starting to arrive.
Finally, when it appeared Zane was either going to pass out or puke, she slowed them down to a walk for the last two hundred meters to arrive where they’d left their other shoes.
“Holy shit.” Zane lowered his head between his open legs and moaned.
Jo shoved cold water from her supply into his hands.
He downed it in one continuous swallow.
A handful of members of the cross-country team made their way from the parki
ng lot.
“Hey, Sheriff.”
“Hey, guys.”
Zane glanced her way.
“Tim, lead everyone in a warm-up. I don’t want anyone bitching about shin splits.”
Tim saluted her, and the lot of them made their way to the center of the field.
More than one set of eyes fell on Zane.
“Looks like someone got in trouble,” she heard one of the girls mumble.
“What’s that about?” Zane asked, nodding toward the group of teens that were starting their stretches.
“Nothing. Good kids, just need a little extra push once in a while.”
“Huh!” Zane stood and grabbed his boots. “So we’re good here?”
“Until Thursday.”
“Seriously?” He turned a little green.
“Six sharp.” She didn’t give him any room to argue. Jo took off on the track. “C’mon, slackers. We have some miles to run today.”
Jo heard Tim grumble.
“And one trip up Lob Hill.”
“Why?” one of the girls asked as they all moved to catch up with her.
“I was at the wedding, Tina. I had eyes everywhere.” Which they all knew to mean she’d caught more than one of them drinking. And since there wasn’t any more bitching, she knew they’d all had a hand in something they shouldn’t have over the weekend.
Zane shook his head as he walked away.
The first box arrived two days after Zoe left for Texas.
Luke opened the package to find a set of knives and a packing slip that had him looking twice.
He didn’t hesitate, he picked up his cell phone and called her.
“Hey, baby . . . I have a package here for you.”
“Awesome.”
“Am I reading this right? You spent two thousand dollars on knives?”
Zoe hesitated. “That isn’t right. Did you look in the box?”
He fumbled with some of the packing materials and removed three smaller boxes with images of the knives inside. “There’s three in here.”
“Oh, a partial shipment then. I’ll call.”
Luke flipped the box over in his hands. “Wait, are you saying you spent two grand on three knives?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Really? What do you spend on a drill set? Hydraulic hoses for the shop? Or, hey, that lift that keeps breaking down?”
Luke put the box down and grinned. “I get it.”
“Good. I have more coming, so keep an eye out. I’d hate for the boxes to sit on your porch.”
“Because I live in such a bad neighborhood.”
“Never mind. I seem to have forgotten there are places you can leave your front door unlocked.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” But even as the words left Luke’s mouth, he knew he’d left his door unlocked more times than not in his life.
“Are you checking on Miss Gina?”
“Every day. I think she’s catching on to me.”
“Let her catch on. I hate the thought of her being in the place alone.”
Luke put the smaller boxes that held the knives on the counter and tossed the bigger one by the back door to take to the trash.
“Brenda is there in the mornings to make breakfast when she has guests until Mel is back.”
“Yeah, how is that going to work with her and Wyatt married?”
“Better, I think. Miss Gina has been known to tell people that the inn is at capacity if she didn’t like the look of them.”
“Mel told me that the inn has been losing money ever since Hope got hurt last year.”
Luke drizzled a little water over the tiny plants sitting by his sink as they spoke. “Now that Hope has her own room at Wyatt’s, my guess is Miss Gina will get back to normal. Better than normal. This town seems to have filled up in the last few months.”
He heard Zoe laugh. “The film crew alone doubled the population.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but there are a few more people I don’t recognize in town.”
“That should be good for everyone.”
“Except maybe Jo.”
“Oh, is something going on?”
Luke was quick to backtrack. “No. But a bigger population means more people to police.” And he knew for a fact that Jo was spending a lot of her time outside the station ever since Ziggy showed up.
“Then she needs to hire another deputy.”
“I think there is only so much in the budget for her.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
He didn’t want to think of the magnitude of Jo’s job. He’d seen her dressed in a uniform for years now, but never saw the cop . . . he almost always saw the chick that went to high school with them.
“So what are you doing today?” he asked, not wanting to drop the conversation yet.
“I’m sitting down with the owners of Nahana and turning in my resignation.”
Hope filled Luke’s chest like a rush of wind. “You’re really quitting?”
“I am. It feels strange. But after I spoke with Suki, I knew I was going to be okay.”
The name of her talent agent always made him grin. “What does Suki have to do with the restaurant?”
“We heard back from the publisher I liked. Guess what they are paying me for a cookbook?”
He had no idea. “I got nothing.”
“A hundred grand.”
Luke felt actual chills. “W-what?”
“I know, right?”
He slumped against the counter. “For a cookbook?”
“Yeah. It will give me an opportunity to walk from Nahana and explore for the next six months.”
“Holy cow, Zoe. What kind of money do you make?”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. It’s none of my business. I’m happy for you.”
“I have to run. Keep an eye out for my orders?”
“I will, baby. Don’t work too hard.”
Luke ended the call and lifted one of the boxes holding Zoe’s knives. He didn’t think he spent two grand collectively on all the stuff in his kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Most nights, Jo lived off microwaveable dinners and pasta in a box that didn’t require much effort.
Since Ziggy Brown returned, she spent a lot of her time, and money, frequenting Sam’s diner.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Sam called out from behind the window into the kitchen. “You’re back.”
“What can I say, Sam? I think Zoe taught you a few things back there.”
“I doubt that,” Brenda said from across the room.
Jo took a spot at the counter and greeted those she recognized. There were a few faces in the mix that weren’t familiar. Something she had noticed happening throughout the summer.
She grabbed a menu, though she was fairly certain there wasn’t anything new on the thing.
“When are you going to change some of this?” she called out to Sam.
“You get that friend of yours to move back to town and help me out back here, and maybe you can have something new.”
“I don’t think you can afford her.”
Her banter escaped right as Sheryl pushed through the two-way swinging doors that led to the back.
Her hands were full of a tub of ice.
Jo lifted her chin, made sure a smile was firmly in place. “Hi, Sheryl.”
This woman had known Jo since before she had her first period, was her best friend’s mother. The lady put her nose in the air and averted her eyes before she offered a weak greeting.
Jo counted it as a win. The last time she was in, Sheryl had completely ignored her.
As winning went, Jo had apparently sat in Sheryl’s section, so she had no choice but to talk to her.
“How does the soup look tonight?”
“Same as it has for twenty years.”
“I’ll skip it then.”
Sheryl didn’t crack a smile.
> “How about an iced tea.”
Sheryl put away her pad of paper and twisted around.
Brenda moved behind the counter to grab the coffeepot. “When are Wyatt and Mel coming back?”
“Not for a week.”
“I’ve never been anywhere tropical.” Brenda hummed to herself. “Fiji . . . I hope she takes lots of pictures.”
“Me, too.”
“Think you’ll ever go?” Brenda asked.
Jo adjusted her gun belt so her .45 wasn’t digging into her waist. “And leave beautiful downtown River Bend? I’m good.”
Sam glanced through the window. “You just need a Wyatt in your life.”
“I’m too busy for that.”
“Ha!” The laugh came from down the counter.
“Grant? Aren’t you at the wrong bar?”
Grant had been known to spend a little time in the only jail cell in town for drinking a little too much and yelling at the dogs, the kids . . . and anyone who wasn’t drinking with him. The running joke in town was he needed a set of keys to the jail cell like that guy on The Andy Griffith Show.
It never really came to that since more serious overnight guests were taken into Waterville, where they had twenty-four-hour surveillance.
Not that it stopped Jo from occasionally making a kid on the wrong path spend the night in her jail. A tactic that had worked quite a bit for her dad.
“I’m on the wagon, Sheriff.”
Jo noticed the gloss in his eyes. “By wagon you mean you’re pacing yourself?”
“Well, let’s not be ridiculous.”
Jo couldn’t help but laugh.
Sheryl set an iced tea in front of her, pulled out her pad of paper again, and waited without comment.
“I’ll go with the roast beef.”
Without eye contact, Sheryl scribbled the order and tossed it in Sam’s window.
Brenda walked behind Jo and leaned in close. “Don’t take it personally.”
“Do I ever?”
“I don’t know . . . do you?”
Jo waved her off and turned to her drink.
“I have to say, Sheriff, you cleaned up really well the other night.”
“Why thanks, Sam. I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t remember the last time I saw you in something other than a uniform. You’re like a girl under all that stuff.” He waved at her as if he were washing away her badge.
“Most people in town already know that.” But thanks for announcing it to a restaurant full of them.
Staying For Good (A Most Likely To Novel Book 2) Page 22