by Jaci Burton
He moved at a snail’s pace, and the morning was half gone already. “It’s okay. I can go somewhere else.”
“No, I don’t mind. I’ll go look.”
“It’s really not necessary,” she continued, watching his plodding steps and wincing at his speed.
He waved her off, disappearing down one dusty aisle.
Lord, she was going to be here all day if he was going to check in the back for a plank of wood for her. Luanne sighed and hopped up on the counter to wait, dangling her feet. She glanced out the dirty window back to Main Street…and froze.
Officer Hotness was passing by the window.
She groaned. Don’t come in here. Don’t come in here. Don’t come in here.
He glanced through the window, squinted…and his steps slowed.
Damn it.
He headed for the door of Merle’s Hardware.
Just her luck. Luanne straightened, pinning a smile to her face. The best defense was a good offense. Maybe if she came on hot and heavy, he’d skedaddle right away. It was as good a plan as any.
The officer entered the hardware store, and she noticed he ducked a little when he went through the door. Maybe it was because she was a six-foot amazon, but that simple motion seemed irresistibly sexy somehow. This was a man she wouldn’t have to wear flats to go out on a date with, she realized. This was a man she wouldn’t have to hunch down next to in photographs. This was someone she could relax around. And that was incredibly, unbelievably appealing to someone as tall as she was.
She didn’t have to fake the purr in her voice as she smiled at him. “Why, hello, Officer Hotness.”
He stopped in his tracks and glanced behind him.
“I’m talking to you.”
He wore mirrored sunglasses, but she was pretty sure he was blushing underneath them. “Officer Sharp,” he corrected.
“I’ll say,” she added with a wink. “How’s it hanging?”
Yep, he was definitely blushing.
Officer Sharp moved to her side and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “These are yours. The car is parked in front of the station.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” she said, swinging her feet and staring up at him thoughtfully. “How are the cows?”
“The cows?”
“No worse for the wear despite my visit?”
A hint of a smile curved his mouth, and she saw hints of sexiness in his rugged face. “No. They’re fine.” He looked her up and down, noticing her plain jeans and white T-shirt. “No Legendary gear today?”
“Afraid not,” she said with a smile. “Jane only comes out to play when I’m filming. The rest of the time it’s just plain old me.”
He leaned on the counter next to her, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not so sure about the ‘plain’ part, Miss Allard.”
He remembered her last name. And he said she wasn’t plain. Officer Hotness was flirting back with her. How…fun. Luanne tilted her head at him, staring up at her reflection in his glasses. “That’s sweet of you. I bet you say that to all the crazy trespassers.”
A flash of white teeth shone. “Just the pretty ones.”
“So where would a trespasser like me go to get a drink around here, Officer?” She was inches away from batting her eyelashes at him like an idiot. The man was definitely stroking her ego.
“Only one place in town serves alcohol. You like Tex-Mex?”
He must have been talking about the hole-in-the-wall Mexican food place she’d been avoiding since moving here. Figured. “Don’t suppose you’d like to get a drink?”
His grin widened. “I…” His voice broke off and his smile disappeared.
“What?”
He reached past her and snagged the flyer that Merle had put on the register. “What’s this?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said lightly. “Someone’s looking for a—” She leaned over the paper and made a show of reading it. “Chupacabra, looks like.”
Officer Sharp stared at the flyer, his mouth thinning. Then his face turned toward her again. “If I call the number at the bottom of this flyer, is your phone gonna ring?”
Luanne swung her feet. “Maybe.”
Just then, Merle appeared from the back storage room, his steps shuffling and slow. “The only wood I have is on the mops,” he pointed out, unscrewing a mop and then waving the handle at her. “It’s not a flat board, but will this do?”
“No, I need flat,” she told him quickly, hoping he wouldn’t dismantle any other mops on her behalf. “It’s okay. I’ll head into the city and go to one of the big lumber stores. No big deal.”
“I’d like to help,” Merle said, staring at the headless mop and then offering it to her. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll just ring you up, then.”
It got quiet as Merle shuffled back behind the counter. Luanne hopped down and peeked over at Officer Sharp. His arms were crossed over his chest, the chupacabra flyer discarded on the counter and forgotten.
“What’s with the do-it-yourself kit?” he finally asked.
She’d been rather hoping he wouldn’t. “Just a project.”
“A Jane project?”
Luanne fidgeted as Merle began to ring up the duct tape and rope. “It might or might not be for making crop circles.”
“Luanne,” he said in a warning tone.
So they’d moved beyond “Miss Allard” and “Jane” on to Luanne. And now he was using his disapproving cop voice on her. Gone was Officer Hotness. Officer No-Fun had returned.
“It’s just stuff,” she told him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to crop-circle outside of your jurisdiction.”
He said nothing as Merle gave her the total, and she pulled out a wad of cash and paid him. But when she picked up her purchases and headed out the door, he followed her.
Damn it. She paused on the sidewalk outside of the hardware store, glancing down the street. He’d parked her car on the side of city hall, she could see now. She could go there and pick it up, but Officer Hotness would probably dog her footsteps every inch of the way. Or she could run like a chicken and head down the street back toward the Peppermint House.
A tall shadow fell over her, blocking out the light, and Luanne squinted up at the cop. It was rather novel, having to squint up at a man. This must have been how regular-height women felt. “There a problem, Officer? Is buying rope and duct tape illegal now?”
His lips thinned as he regarded her upturned face. “I don’t like what you’re doing. This is a quiet town. You don’t need to get everyone riled up about chupacabra or crop circles or cow tippings. You’re just causing trouble to cause trouble, and I can’t have that.”
“Are you giving me a lecture on being naughty? That seems unfair, considering I pretty much asked you out and you just turned me down.” So she was fudging the facts a little. She was still a little disappointed that they’d gone from sexy flirting to Jane-is-a-bad-bad-girl.
That expressive mouth fell open, just a little. “Asked me out?”
She rolled her eyes. “I asked you where a girl has to go to get a drink around here. Hello? Classic pickup line.”
She could have sworn his ears turned just the slightest bit red. “I see.”
“I’m a big girl,” she told him. “No height joke intended. You can just say no without lecturing me. I won’t cry.”
He took the sunglasses off in the next minute, and she realized just how very green his eyes were. How striking. A hint of a smile curved his mouth again, and she felt a flare of attraction between them again. “I don’t think I want to say no, Miss Allard. What time should I pick you up?”
CHAPTER THREE
For some reason, Luanne was nervous. She smoothed her black dress in the mirror, then sighed and tore it off, tossing it on the bed with thirteen other outfits. This was just a stupid date. It wasn’t even supposed to be a date. She should just think of it as dinner with a friendly stranger who happened to be a guy. Tha
t’s all.
But she kept thinking of the appreciative way he’d looked at her—Luanne, not wacky Legend of Jane—and for some reason, she wanted to get this right. So she changed clothes again, slipping on her favorite pair of jeans that made her ass look fantastic, and a silky top with no sleeves and a loose neckline that displayed some cleavage she was rather proud of. Much better. This outfit said that she was interested but not invested. The dress said a little too much. Jeans were perfect.
Luanne dug through the bottom of her closet and triumphantly pulled out a bright red pair of heels. They were four-inch stilettos and gorgeous. She loved them. She never wore them, though, because they made her tower over every man she’d ever dated, or made her look like a flagpole when she went out with her girlfriends.
Tonight, though? Tonight she had a date with a man who was easily six inches taller than her, and she could put on stilettos. And that was something she was definitely going to take advantage of.
With that in mind, she headed to the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup.
When the doorbell rang, she nearly stabbed herself with the mascara wand she was wielding. Instead, she smeared black under one carefully lined eye. Drat.
“I’ll get it,” Emily called from downstairs, and Luanne hastily fixed her eye makeup. He’d seen her fully kitted out as Jane, and she wanted to avoid that tonight. Just a bit of eyeliner, some mascara, and some nude lipstick. Nothing fancy. Nothing that screamed Jane. Her hair was down and hung in soft, natural waves around her face—another change from Jane.
She hoped he liked it and wasn’t disappointed. It seemed like every guy she’d gone out with in the past year wanted to see Jane instead of Luanne.
But when she came down the stairs in her tight jeans and red heels, she knew she’d chosen wisely. Officer Sharp—Hank, she reminded herself—was chatting with Emily and doing his best not to loom over her. Lucky Emily was on the shorter side of five foot and hadn’t inherited their father’s height like Luanne had. He glanced up when Luanne landed on a creaky step, and a slow smile spread across his face as he looked at her, clearly approving.
Of her. Not Jane.
This evening was already off to a great start. Luanne smiled back down at him.
* * *
They walked to the restaurant, since it was only a few blocks away and the temperature was surprisingly pleasant and cool for June. They’d made small talk about the weather, the conversation stilted and awkward. Silence eventually fell and they walked quietly toward the restaurant.
She looked pretty tonight, Hank thought. No, more than pretty. Downright gorgeous. Her hair fell around her shoulders in light brown waves, and she wasn’t wearing that ridiculous glittery makeup. Her face was appealing, and her legs seemed like they went on forever in those jeans.
She was way out of his league. He was just a too-tall unexciting country boy with an average face. He knew what ladies looked for in a man, and Hank Sharp wasn’t it. His dating record in Bluebonnet consisted of more strikeouts than home runs, and everyone in town seemed to think he was a devoted bachelor. And he was, except it wasn’t by choice. Most women didn’t show a lot of interest in a man almost a foot and a half taller than them.
But Luanne? She was tall. Gorgeously tall.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she glanced over at him. Hank cleared his throat. “You been here before? To eat?”
She shook her head, smiling at him. “I just moved in with Em two weeks ago. I haven’t really had a chance to do much around town.”
Nothing much, except a cow tipping, a trip to the police station, and planning crop circles. He didn’t bring that up, though. “It doesn’t look like much, I know. It’s an old house that was converted into a restaurant.”
“Really?” She wrinkled her nose like she didn’t approve. “That’s strange. I’m not sure if I’m keen on sitting in a stranger’s living room and eating.”
“It’s a family-owned business,” he explained, as if he needed to somehow defend the town to her. “Food’s excellent.”
Luanne glanced over at him and smiled. “Then you’re going to have to tell me what’s the best thing to order.”
“I can do that,” he agreed, opening the door for her and waiting for her to step past. He ducked inside and noticed they were getting a few looks. Not surprising, because he was tall and she was, well, gorgeous. She seemed a little uncomfortable at the attention, though.
“Officer Sharp,” one of the waitresses said with a smile, passing by the host booth and grabbing a pair of menus. “Want your regular table?”
“That’d be great,” he said, putting a hand on the small of Luanne’s back to steer her forward.
Luckily for him, his regular table was at the back of the restaurant. Usually it was so he could scarf his lunch while keeping an eye on everyone else in the restaurant out of habit. Tonight, though, it meant privacy for him and his date, which was nice. He pulled the chair out for Luanne and she sat down gracefully.
“You have a regular table here?” she asked him, unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap as he sat down.
“Only restaurant in town.” He didn’t add that the owner was friends with his father the police chief, so any man in uniform got a free meal. Then that seemed like an insult to the restaurant, so he added, “Food’s good.”
Luanne gave him a curious look, and then examined her menu. “So what’s your favorite?”
He told her, and they ordered the same thing, along with a pair of Coronas. Silence fell over the table again, and Hank inwardly winced. He sure was botching this. He should talk about something. Anything. Nothing was coming to mind, though. He was one big blank. Damn it. If she didn’t speak up and break the awkward silence in the next minute, he was going to start sweating.
“So,” she began, and he almost sighed with relief. “Have you always wanted to be a police officer?”
“Yup.” Hank picked the lime out of the top of his Corona and set it on his napkin, then took a swig. “Runs in the family.”
“Really? Who else in the family is a cop?”
“My father’s the police chief. His father before him. There have been Sharps in Bluebonnet ever since Bluebonnet was founded.”
Her smile widened. “The family business. I could see that. You seem like the type.”
“And what type is that?” He wasn’t sure if that was an insult or a compliment.
“You know, the good son. The loyal man. All that.” She waved a hand in the air and then stuck a finger on her lime, shoving it into the neck of her Corona before she took a drink. “You look as if it’s written in your DNA.”
Hank frowned. She made him sound like a giant Boy Scout. Not exactly date material. And yet…she pretty much had him pegged. He was the good son. He did join the force because it was what Sharp men did. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
She shook her head and grinned at him, her beer still tilted close to her lips. “Women say they want a wild man they can tame, but most would probably prefer to have a nice guy…as long as he’s sexy.”
Well, considering that women weren’t beating down his door to date him, he was guessing that she was wrong on that account. Still, it was nice of her to try to make him feel better about it. He knew most women wanted a bad boy, and that wasn’t Hank Sharp.
And yet, Luanne was here, and she was smiling at him, so that was something. “What about you?”
Her smile faded just a little and she set her beer down on the napkin. “What about me?”
“Your sister lives here in town, right?”
She brightened, as if the subject had skirted something she was afraid to talk about. Interesting. “Yes! Em has always wanted to run a bed-and-breakfast. I thought she was crazy when she told me she bought a fixer-upper out here, but the place is interesting, even if it’s a little garish with the red and white paint and all.”
“She thinks it’s haunted. Calls the police station about o
nce a week for us to come and check on something.”
Luanne rolled her eyes. “I’ve been there a few weeks and haven’t seen or heard a thing, and I’ve been in a few haunted houses.”
“As Jane?”
“Yup. I’m pretty sure it’s not haunted. And if it was, she could make a killing by letting me do a little filming, but she refuses.”
“Not everyone wants to be on camera,” Hank told her, keeping his tone as mild as he could.
She frowned at his reproach and they lapsed into silence again.
Damn. He really wasn’t good at this dating thing.
After chips and salsa were dropped at their table, Luanne plucked one and sighed at him. “This is really awkward, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Disappointing, too.
That impish smile crossed her face again. “You probably would have been more comfortable if I showed up as Jane, huh?”
“No,” he said, almost too quickly. He liked Luanne. He didn’t much cotton to her Jane persona. “She kinda stands out in a crowd.”
She looked surprised, then laughed. “The clothes and makeup? I guess so. It’s just armor, anyhow.”
“Armor?”
“I got the idea from roller derby girls,” she said. “I watched them in Austin once. Saw a few girls head through the back entrance, looking sweet and mild as could be. When they came out on the rink, though, they were totally different. Like banshees. It was crazy. Wild hair, wild makeup, wild uniforms. I realized that it was like putting armor on for them. You put on the costume and you get your game face on. So that’s what I do, too. It’s all about putting on a good show and getting into the zone.” And she winked at him. “Like you and your hot cop uniform.”
Great, now he’d gone from being awkward to blushing. “You flatter a man.”
She wiggled her eyebrows at him and ate another chip. “You show a lot of ladies your nightstick?”
Her playful attitude was catching. It was hard not to play back, so he didn’t resist. Instead, Hank leaned forward. “Most of them run away as soon as I break it out. I think they’re scared of the size.”