by Nova Nelson
Before I could answer, Tanner jumped in. “She’s done with that, Stu. I think she’s been pretty clear about it.”
“Is that true?” Stu asked, looking to me.
“Tanner’s right. I have been pretty clear about it. I have zero interest in working for the sheriff’s department—no offense—but I’m afraid I have to admit that finding myself neck deep in the trouble around town is a habit I just can’t quit.”
Stu chuckled. “Can’t or don’t want to?” He tilted his head forward, squinting up at me.
I opened my mouth to respond, but was distracted when the bell above the front door rang.
Donovan held open the door for Eva as she entered, and then he placed a hand at the small of her back, scanning the room for an empty table. As his eyes met mine, I nodded and he returned the gesture with a closed-lipped smile that closely resembled a frown before he led Eva to the booth next to Ted’s.
Tanner’s voice and the warmth of his breath on my cheek almost made me jump. “Wasn’t Eva wearing that same thing last night?” he asked.
My mouth fell open when I realized Tanner was right. I rounded on him. “Men notice that?”
“Some do.”
I returned my attention to Donovan. Eva’s back was to the counter, so I couldn’t tell if she was staring at him with the same intensity that he was showing her.
I sighed. “Good for them,” I said. “Donovan deserves happiness just like the rest of us.”
Tanner nodded, but stared at me strangely, like he wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. “Agreed. Never thought I’d hear you say that, though. Not about him.”
Grinning, I conceded with, “Me neither.”
Tanner tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “You sure have been acting strange lately. But wishing happiness on Donovan is a whole new level.” He squinted at me suspiciously. “If I didn’t know any better, Nora, I’d say you were in love.”
“You know what?” I let myself tumble into those hazel eyes. “I think you might be right.”
“And who might the lucky man be?”
I remembered waking up that morning to find Roland staring down at me through wistful eyes, just where he’d been sitting when I’d fallen asleep.
“You might know him,” I said. “He manages a diner in the Outskirts.”
“Owns,” he said.
“Co-owns,” I corrected.
Tanner leaned down until his lips were only an inch away from mine. “Sounds like a pretty lucky guy.”
“Not as lucky as me.”
END OF BOOK 5
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About the Author
Nova Nelson grew up on a steady diet of Agatha Christie novels. She loves the mind candy of cozy mysteries and has been weaving paranormal tales since she first learned handwriting. Those two loves meet in her Eastwind Witches series, and it's about time, if she does say so herself.
When she's not busy writing, she enjoys long walks with her strong-willed dogs and eating breakfast for dinner.
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