Red Hot: A Friends to Lovers Small Town Rom Com

by Cat Johnson

  One more time I slipped my hand from beneath his and reached for my glass. It was like my own private drinking game. If this kept up and I had to drink every time Carson tried to hold my hand, I was going to be trashed before the food arrived.

  I blew out a breath and glanced around for the waitress, vainly hoping our order of hot wings with the side of fried pickles was on its way to our table.

  Of course, it wasn’t. The place was mobbed at night. The kitchen was probably all backed up with orders.

  Sighing, I turned back to Carson. “So, that was some season the Hogs had, huh?”

  He smiled, looking excited to talk about the football team at our high school.

  The conversation remained at that level of riveting for the remainder of the hour.

  We talked about the horse that had escaped from one of the local farms, which still eluded capture, and also the bull that had escaped from the local stock auction. He had been, thankfully, caught after a wild week on the lam.

  That all, of course, brought up fond memories of when Agnes’s pig Petunia had been on the run from the auction before Agnes caught her and the town officially made her the school’s mascot so she’d be allowed to live in town.

  When I ran out of small talk, I even threw Harper under the bus. I told Carson she was writing a character who was a small-town deputy, which was loosely based on him.

  She’d forgive me and I was desperate. At least I didn’t tell him she’d called him hot.

  Finally, the wings were gone, the table cleared and the bill paid—whether I liked it or not. Carson had insisted on paying for me.

  I’d offered to pay, and then suggested we split the bill when he refused my first offer. But he ended up snatching it and going directly to the bartender with it. It made this feel too much like a date.

  I didn’t want this to be a date.

  We were friends and friends I wanted us to stay. Just friends. No benefits. Well, except for the benefit that he’d come investigate my groundless reports of possibly imaginary theft from the shop without judgement.

  But I wasn’t sure Carson saw things the same way as I did regarding our non-date. Which begged the question, how was the end of this night going to go?

  At least I’d met him here, so there wouldn’t be that awkward goodnight at my door. Though there might be an awkward goodnight in the parking lot.

  I was trying to figure a way to avoid it altogether when Carson’s phone buzzed.

  He frowned down at the display and then glanced up at me. “John’s at the department alone and wants me to bring him dinner. He called in the order. I gotta wait for it to be ready and drop it off on my way home.”

  “That’s nice of you. Poor guy, working the night shift. I’m sure he’s happy to have a co-worker like you.” Seeing the way to a clean escape, I tried not to sound overly excited as I babbled. “So, I’m gonna head out. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “Don’t you always open at ten?”

  “Yeah, I do. But tomorrow I have to check out an estate sale before I open so . . .” Thankful for that convenient truth, I wrestled my sweater covered arms into my jacket and looped my scarf around my neck. “Thank you so much for dinner and for dropping off the paperwork.”

  The paper. The whole reason for this non-date tonight. The paper I’d almost forgotten on the table. I grabbed it up now with his card, clutching them in my hand along with my truck keys that I’d fished out of my jacket pocket.

  I stood up so fast I knocked my chair over, which worked against my smooth exit. I scrambled to pick it up.

  Carson stood too as I righted the chair. “Let me walk you out.”

  “Oh, don’t bother. Really. I’m fine walking myself out. I’m parked right outside the door.”

  “You bring your truck?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I frowned at something I heard in his tone.

  He cringed. “You sure you should be driving that thing? Especially in this weather.”

  That thing?

  “Yeah, I’m quite sure. She’s good. She hasn’t let me down yet.” I loved my truck and I wasn’t sure how I felt about Carson knocking on her.

  “All right.” He nodded. “But you have my number if she does.”

  “Yup. I do.” Little did Carson know that now, after that comment, he’d be the last person I called if my truck broke down along the side of the road.

  Call me stubborn but I’d walk the two miles in the twenty-six-degree weather rather than admit he was right.

  I said one more time, “Thanks again.”

  “You’re very welcome. We’ll have to do it again some time.”

  “Yeah. Sure. That’d be nice.”

  Darn it! Why had I said that?

  Because my stupid mother had instilled some very inconvenient manners in me, which included almost never saying no to anything.

  I’d deal with that promise later. Now, I had to get out while the getting was good.

  “So, have a good night.”

  “You too.” He smiled and grabbed my shoulders, leaning forward as I watched his mouth get closer and closer.

  Squinting my eyes, as if that was going to help any, I braced for the inevitable kiss I was helpless to avoid. But it didn’t come.

  The one thing I hadn’t counted on was the fact Carson was a gentleman. He pressed a quick, chaste kiss to my cheek and then dropped his hold on me. “Drive safely.”

  Phew!

  “I will. For sure. Thanks. You too.” Ready to slap myself for my continued babbling, I finally cut myself short.

  I spun and headed toward the door and ran head-on into Boone Morgan on my way out, slamming into his chest in my quest to reach the exit.

  “Woah there. In a hurry?” He grinned, steadying me with both hands on my shoulders.

  Of all the people to bowl over in my escape from my non-date with Carson, of course it was Cash’s brother I’d run into. Because I had the worst luck in Mudville. No doubt about it.

  “Uh, just heading home.”

  “I think I’ll wait to get on the road myself for a few minutes, just in case you drive like you walk.” He smiled to show me he was joking.

  I rolled my eyes at the hot as heck youngest Morgan brother. All three had been blessed with more good looks than any family had a right to.

  Hanging out and joking with Boone was not in my escape plan, but I couldn’t go without volleying a reply to his insult, even if it was in jest.

  “As if you or your brothers need an excuse to hang out here for hours?” I cocked a brow high in challenge, then said, “Good night, Boone.”

  He grinned. “G’night, Red.”

  Finally, I made my way through the gauntlet of patrons and outside. The frigid air felt good on my heated cheeks. At least at first.

  The problem with driving a truck from the last century was that it took longer to warm it up than it took to drive the distance home. But this truck was older than I was, by a couple of decades actually. If I wanted her to treat me right, I had to treat her right.

  By the time I got my truck warmed up enough to drive, my fingers were painfully cold and I regretted forgetting my gloves at the shop. But luckily the heat was finally blowing out of the vents and it was a short drive home.

  I’d be in my nice warm apartment in under five minutes and I was more than grateful for that fact as I worked the clutch and shifted my old girl into gear.

  I passed Stone’s truck, parked on Main Street in front of Agnes’s house. Harper was obviously having a good night. I only hoped she remembered she’d promised to be up bright and early tomorrow morning to check out the estate sale with me. I was tempted to text her and interrupt her booty call.

  I couldn’t really be jealous she was most likely getting lucky since I’d just literally fled from my own date-slash-non-date. I shouldn’t be envious, but I kind of was.

  She’d found the love of her life. How much longer would it be for me to find mine?

  That tho
ught had just crossed my mind when I saw Cash’s truck parked on my block.

  What the heck?

  Fate or karma or something cosmic must have been punishing me for my selfish petty jealousy that one of my best friends was happy and in love. Whatever it was, was now dangling in front of me the one man I wanted, who was also the one man I’d likely never have.

  Cosmic lesson or not, it still didn’t explain why Cash’s truck was here. Unless—

  Oh my God! He had better not be dating Pansy Parson. Son of a gun! If Cash started dating my neighbor’s daughter, I might have to sell and move.

  I was just considering that plan seriously when the door swung open and the man in question stepped out.

  Meanwhile I still hadn’t turned into my driveway and parked yet. I’d been too paralyzed by the sight of Cash’s truck and my wild imaginings. I decided to get out of the street and at least park before the most distracting man on earth got any closer.

  By the time I climbed down from the driver’s seat, Cash was next to me.

  “Hey,” he said, his tone flat. Serious.

  It was dark, but the security light had flicked on when I’d pulled in so I could see his expression clearly and it was as serious as his tone had been.

  “Hey, Cash. What’s up?” I asked, starting to get concerned myself. If Cash was serious, something was very wrong.

  He’d even been cracking jokes when he’d been carried off the field after an injury freshman year. But here, now, in my driveway he looked like someone had died.

  Jeez. Had someone died? My mind shot to Agnes and the fact Stone’s truck was parked there.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked since he still hadn’t answered me.

  “Well . . .” he began.

  His hesitation ramped up my anxiety. My heart started to pound.

  Finally, he continued, “I was, uh, driving by. Before. On my way home from the bar. You know, since it’s on my way.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I saw somebody. It was just a glimpse of a flashlight at first but I decided to check it out. Because you had that stuff go missing.”

  My eyes widened. “And?”

  “There was definitely somebody here but I must have scared him off. I heard somebody running when I got out of the truck. I went after him but it was too late. But when I first saw him, he was by the back door of the shop. I decided to hang out and wait for you. Make sure he didn’t come back.”

  His story was frightening. I wanted to dismiss it as kids up to mischief, cutting through back yards instead of walking around on the road, but I just couldn’t.

  “Did you call the sheriff?” I asked.

  He frowned. “No.”

  There was a definite attitude in that one word, as if I’d insulted his masculinity or something by suggesting it.

  “I mean it’s not that I’m not grateful you were here to chase him away. And obviously you handled it on your own, but I just thought it’s important to have it on record. You know, along with my report about the missing cape. I can call in the morning—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I’ll call in the morning. I was the one who saw him. I’ll make the report.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he grumbled.

  “And thanks again for waiting for me.” I said, still trying to smooth his easily ruffled feathers.

  But I had more important things to worry about than Cash’s bruised male ego.

  I glanced around us at the dark street. It was illuminated only by the far away glow of the streetlights on Main Street. The light didn’t really reach down the block on the side street where we stood.

  After happily living here alone for the past five years, for the first time ever, I felt uncomfortable.

  I didn’t want to use the word afraid. As an independent single woman, I didn’t need a man to be my defender. But I was definitely not looking forward to going upstairs to my apartment alone.

  I had the motion light that lit the driveway, but inside the carriage house looked especially dark. I hadn’t left any lights on before heading to the bar.

  The yawning black windows upstairs where I lived seemed even darker than usual, though I knew that was impossible.

  All I needed was to buy a few timers. I could solve this problem tomorrow with one quick trip to the local hardware store.

  I could set some lights to go on automatically. That way when I came home after sunset, which was at like four-thirty in the dead of winter, I wasn’t walking into a pitch-black apartment.

  It was something I should have done long ago. I don’t know why I hadn’t.

  But none of this planning solved anything tonight.

  There’d been someone creeping around my shop. My yard. My home. And that had me good and spooked about walking in alone.

  Of course, Cash was standing right here. Available. Convenient. I glanced at him now.

  I hated with everything in me to ask him for help, twice in one day if I counted this morning, but I didn’t see that I had much choice. “Um, would you mind maybe just walking through with me?”

  “Actually, I was going to insist on that.” After that declaration, he took a step toward my shop as he continued talking. “I think we should walk through the store first and then search the ground floor of the carriage house before your apartment upstairs.”

  “Um, okay.” I had to scramble to keep up with his long legs as he strode toward the back door.

  Seeing the easy-going Cash so determined was a change for me. Usually the man moved slow and casual, like he had nowhere to be and not a care in the world.

  Not today.

  Today he was a man on a mission and apparently that mission was inspecting my store for intruders.

  But no. It was more than that. His real mission was ensuring my safety. And I couldn’t lie to myself and deny that his protective side was hot as hell.

  I’d wanted the man before, even knowing he was a joker who didn’t take much seriously. Now that he was proving me wrong, showing me the other side of the Cash coin, so to speak, my heart was ready to melt.

  Heart?

  Crap. My lust crush had moved. Up from my lady parts and into the region of my body where real feelings resided.

  I didn’t want to have real feelings for Cashel Morgan. Not as long as they weren’t reciprocal. Not if he didn’t have real feelings for me.

  Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about this because he was standing there yanking on the knob of the back door of my shop hard enough he might tear it off.

  “Wait. I have the key.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, but his two hands remained on the knob. “I know you have the key. Or at least I assumed you did. I’m trying to see how secure this lock is. If someone really wanted to get in, how hard would it be?”

  Hard, I hoped, but I wasn’t sure.

  “It’s good that the door opens out,” he continued. “At least it can’t be kicked in. But they could probably pry it open with a crowbar. Or just pick the lock.”

  “Who knows how to pick locks around here?” It was Mudville. Not the city.

  Cash spun to face me. “Harper. That’s who.”

  “What?” I squeaked.

  “Your bestie Harper is apparently well-trained in the use of burglar tools.”

  “For real?” I asked, still perplexed by the revelation.

  “Yup. Stone witnessed it firsthand. Apparently, she whipped out her lock pick set, which she owns by the way, and picked a lock like a pro right in front of him.”

  “Hmm. That’s interesting.”

  “Stone didn’t think it was interesting. It freaked him the fuck out. I never laughed so hard as when he described it to me.” Cash chuckled, and then leveled a stare on me. “So, uh, is that key forthcoming or should I actually break in?”

  “Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Here it is.” I handed over the truck keys, which also held the carriage house key, my apartment door key, and the front door key of the store, as well as th
e back door. There was another key on there too. I wasn’t sure what that one went to but I figured it must be something so I left it on the ring.

  Cash stared at the overloaded key ring in his hand then looked back up at me.

  “Want me to open it?” I offered.

  “Just show me which one it is, please. I want to go inside first. Just in case.”

  There was that squishy feeling in my heart again.

  “Okay.”

  I managed to reach out and single out the appropriate key. But darn it if I didn’t notice how warm his hands were when my skin brushed his. I wanted those hands on me. All over me.

  And that would be an epically bad idea. Bad. Bad. Bad.

  A person shouldn’t poop where they eat. Wasn’t that the old saying? Living in a town the size of Mudville meant I couldn’t have a one-night stand with anyone. And I really couldn’t have a fling with Cash.

  He was a Morgan. Everyone in town, and in all the surrounding towns too, knew him and his family. I owned a business, so I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous myself.

  We were both born and raised here. By all indications, I’d die in this town.

  My train of thought was broken by the lights going on in the store after Cash disappeared inside and I still stood outside pondering life and death in a small town.

  I had to give Cash credit. He was thorough, searching the shop from top to bottom, including the storage on the third floor. I followed along, answering him as he asked me if everything on each level looked as it should.

  Soon we were inside the dark first floor of the carriage house where the store overflow I had stashed there made it nearly impossible to walk through. I had all intentions of eventually fixing up the things in there to sell, but I hadn’t gotten to it yet.

  Cash didn’t comment even though I knew all my stored crap made his job of checking to make sure no one was hiding in there even harder. Eventually he decreed the garage area was safe. That meant it was time to go upstairs. To my apartment. Where my bed was.

  I swallowed hard and led the way. He let me, even though he still had my keys in his hand. That little detail made this whole situation feel even weirder.

  How many times had I imagined Cash walking me up these stairs? More than I could count. But in none of my imaginings did he push past me to go inside and inspect my home for intruders before he’d allow me past the door.