by Kim Mckade
No, he wouldn’t hope again, he thought as he watched the soft evening wind gently tease a strand of her hair at her collarbone. Thank God he was a little older, and a lot wiser.
He walked out onto the small porch and breathed a deep sigh of relief. “All set,” he said, rolling his shoulders inside his T-shirt, as if to ease sore muscles.
“Is everything okay?”
“Right as rain. You’ll have a hot shower tonight or your money back.”
“Thanks, Toby,” she said. She still looked a little worried.
“It was nothing. I mean it.” He gave her his patented dropdead, crooked grin.
“I didn’t realize it was going to be such a hassle.”
“No hassle. I guess I’ll just take my sandwich now and be on my way.”
“I’m not going to make you eat a cheese sandwich on the porch, Toby. I have food. I’ve already started dinner.”
He tried to look awkward and glanced at his watch. “Oh,” he said. “That’s not necessary,” he mumbled. “Really. I was just kidding about the sandwich, anyway. I have a few things to do.”
“I’ve already started it, Toby. It won’t take that long to cook. Can’t you stay, just for a while?”
He wrinkled his brow and looked off, as if he were thinking hard. “Well,” he said slowly, chewing his lip. Then he looked at his watch again. “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure.” She led him back into the kitchen. “Right there,” she said, pointing to the bar.
She turned away and began taking the chicken out of the refrigerator. Damn, she wasn’t going to leave the room. He was really going to have to call someone.
He dialed the station. Luke answered.
“It’s me,” Toby said shortly. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what’s happening?”
“Happening? Here?”
“Yes, there!”
“It’s Tuesday night, Haskell. Nothing’s happening.”
“Good.” Whatever Corinne was doing, it smelled wonderful.
“I’m at Corinne Maxwell’s. I’ll be here for a while, if you need me.”
“Why would I need you?”
“Get a pen and write down her number.”
“It’s on the Rolodex right here, Haskell. Why are you calling? You already told me you were going over there.”
“Why is her number on your Rolodex?” Toby snapped.
“The whole damn town’s on the Rolodex. Dutch got bored one day and copied the entire phone book. I don’t know why. What’s going on? Do you want me to call you or something?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Toby said quickly. Corinne was leaning over the open oven door. She wore some kind of onepiece shorts thing, loose and filmy and flowing. She’d always looked dynamite in green. His gaze trailed up the curve of her calf, to the tender skin at the back of her knee. He clenched his fists and forced his mind back to Luke.
“Just wanted to let you know where I am, if you need to reach me.”
“Why would I need to reach you?”
“Or if I’m not here, you can reach me on the radio.”
“I repeat, why would I need to reach you?”
“That’s right And keep an eye on the situation out west of town.”
“What the hell—” Luke’s voice broke off, and Toby heard the sound of his chair hitting the floor. “I get it. You’re trying to act like a big shot in front of your lady-friend.”
“That’s confirmed, officer.”
“You want me to start talking about some important official business, make you sound impressive?”
“Go ahead and run that by me.”
“Mr. Davis called and wanted to know when you were going to give his driver’s license back. He’s got to go to the package store and they might want to see some proof that he’s over twentyone.”
“Don’t let that man drive. Or drink.”
“Don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on him.” Luke laughed. “Sorry, but I don’t have anything juicer than that.”
“You’ll need to get started on that, then.”
“I can go down to the bingo parlor and see if anyone’s interested in inciting a riot you can bust up.”
“Get right on that, officer. You know where to reach me.”
“You’ve told me five times now. I think I know. Over and out, chief. And Toby?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
Toby hung up, and turned back to Corinne. She was tossing the salad.
“Exciting things going down at the station?” she asked.
“Actually, it’s pretty quiet at the moment.” He walked closer to her and leaned against the counter. He stole a cherry tomato and popped it into his mouth.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said dryly.
“I rule this town with an iron fist, I told you. No one dares step out of line.”
Corinne rolled her eyes and turned back to the refrigerator. She leaned over, retrieving something from the crisper, and Toby caught a great profile of the curve at the top of her thigh. He grabbed a celery stalk and snapped it in half.
“Don’t knock it,” he said. “It’s the whole reason you moved back, and you know it. Nothing ever happens here.”
She just smiled that little smile of hers and said, “You’re right.”
Toby shook his head and heaved a dramatic sigh. “You never used to let me win an argument.”
“Lots of things have changed.” Her face grew serious as she chopped vegetables. “Check on the chicken, will you?”
He opened the oven door and looked, but didn’t know exactly what he was looking for. “It turned into a ham.”
She threw him a confused look, and he grinned. “Just kidding.”
She gave him a slightly exasperated smile. Good. She’d been getting that closed look again, shutting him out. Hell, he didn’t want to get into any deep discussions, either. Just have a little fun, while he could.
Something in him had to push.
“That is why you came back, isn’t it, Corinne?”
She was silent for a few seconds, then she turned to him, echoing his words. “Nothing ever happens here.”
She went about the dinner preparations in silence, almost oblivious to him. She raked one hand through her hair, drawing it back, and the movement nearly took his breath away.
Toby cleared his throat and lifted the corner of the bag on the counter. “Oh, hey. Candles. I’ll put them on the table.”
He didn’t give her a chance to argue, telling himself that if he intended to get her back into bed, a little ambience wouldn’t hurt. He found holders in a sideboard and set them in the middle of the table as she brought the food over. She carefully avoided looking at him as he got matches from the kitchen and lit the candles.
“You nervous?” he asked from behind her.
She jumped as if he’d touched her with one of the matches. “Of course not. I believe I can handle you, Toby Haskell.”
He grinned crookedly. “Don’t bet on it, sweetheart And I was referring to teaching. Are you nervous about your first day teaching?”
She was really something when she blushed. Her skin got all hot and rosy, and her lips pursed up.
“I’m not nervous about that, either. They’re just kids. I’ve dealt with worse, believe me.”
Toby shook his head. “Fools rush in,” he mumbled. “So tell me again where that idea came from? I never saw you as an English teacher.”
“From where did the idea come, Sheriff.” She raised one eyebrow as she pulled back her chair and sat at the head of the table.
He sat on the corner, close enough that he could reach out and take her hand in his if he wanted. “Okay, so you’ll be a great English teacher. Whose idea was it?”
“Aunt Muriel’s.” She took the tongs and filled her plate with salad, and he could see her weighing her words. That much hadn’t changed, she’d never been one to speak before she th
ought things through first.
“I was moping around her house, hiding out from reporters and cameramen. I guess she got tired of me feeling sorry for myself.”
“I have a hard time picturing you doing that.”
Corinne shrugged. “I don’t know. The doctor said I was mildly depressed. I didn’t feel depressed. I didn’t intend to mope around for the rest of my life. I knew I should start doing something, anything. It’s just that...I don’t know. It just seemed easier not to think about anything.”
She looked off for a moment, lost in thought Toby fought the urge to reach out and take her hand. Though he was sitting three feet from her, she looked more alone than anyone he’d ever seen.
She turned her attention back to him and smiled wanly.
“Mom called and said the school needed an English teacher until the end of the semester. Aunt Muriel decided I was the perfect candidate for the job, since it was only temporary and in my hometown. The school board was desperate enough for a fill-in, they didn’t mind that I didn’t have a teaching certificate or any experience. So here I am.”
Toby frowned. It was hard to picture Corinne letting other people make decisions for her. “So just like that? You’re a teacher?”
She shrugged. “Till the end of the semester.”
“What about after that? Are you going back to reporting?”
Her expression became solemn. She was getting that look on her face altogether too often. He realized he was holding his breath waiting for her to answer, and he took a big bite of his chicken. It might have been delicious; he didn’t know. It stuck in his throat.
Finally, she shook her head. “No, I’m not going back to reporting.”
Good. Now he didn’t have to tell her that he’d lock her in his jail cell before he let her put herself in danger again.
But he’d made a couple of decisions in the few minutes since they sat down at her little table. One, he didn’t like that dead look in her eyes. Having her spitting mad at him was preferable to this lifeless look. And two, she did feel what was between them, whether she wanted to or not. He could feel it, could see it in the way she looked at his hands, at his mouth, then looked away. He could see it in the way she jumped when he got too close to her.
The second item might take a while to put into action, so to speak, but the first... He could irritate her at the drop of a hat
“I’m kind of surprised to hear that, sweetheart. I didn’t figure you for a quitter.”
Her fork froze halfway to her mouth. “A quitter?”
“Yeah. Reporting was all you ever wanted to do. You were going straight for the networks, you told me. I figured it would take more than a little gun to change your mind.”
“How about I shoot you in the face, Sheriff, and see how it affects your outlook on life?”
He grinned, knowing it infuriated her more. “I’m just wondering if I’m seeing the whole picture, that’s all. You said getting shot wasn’t the only reason you came back. Now most people would do just what you did. They’d throw in the towel—”
“Throw in the towel?” Corinne’s knuckles went white as she gripped her fork. “What do you think, Toby, that I fell off my bike or something? That I need to walk it off? For God’s sake, Toby, I got shot!”
“I know. I saw.” For a moment, his voice was as cold as hers was hot. His gaze met hers seriously. “And for most people, that would be enough. And they’d run home, too. They’d run scared.”
Her fork clattered to her plate and she leaned back, a look of disbelief on her face.
“But you,” he continued, ignoring the murderous look she gave him. “You I figured for a fighter.”
“You’re about to see just how right you are.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Promise?”
She sighed and ran her tongue over her teeth. “Okay, Sheriff, you win.”
“Already?”
“Already. I have no idea why, but you’re trying to hack me off. You win. Now, can we please get back to our meal?”
“Nope. I still want to know what you’re doing here.”
“You know good and well. I’m filling in at the school until they find a replacement.”
“What are your plans after that?”
She simply shook her head. “I don’t have any.”
He choked again. “None? None at all?”
She arched her brows. “Nope.”
“You’ve had your whole life mapped out since fifth grade.”
She shrugged and chewed carefully on her chicken. “Maps get torn up.” She warned him with her eyes to drop the subject
He’d never been good at taking orders.
“You have to have some plans, some idea.”
“I don’t make plans anymore.”
“Everyone makes plans of some kind. You have to have some idea of what you’re going to do next, sweetheart.”
“No,” she said calmly, almost as if her eyes were not snapping fire. “No, I don’t. Making plans means having hopes. It implies aspirations. And I have learned to live one day at a time. I’ve learned to focus on today and let tomorrow take care of itself.”
It was a nice, sentimental load of bull.
“Yeah, right. You just don’t want to talk to me about it.”
“Yes, that’s it.” She took a bite of her chicken.
“So basically you’re saying that you’ll be staying at least a few months, but possibly no more than that.”
“That’s correct.”
“Good. Because I do have aspirations.”
“Good for you,” she said quietly, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of roll.
“What, you ask? If you must know, I have aspirations that concern you.”
She arched her brow again and gave him that look that was supposed to convince him she didn’t care.
“I just needed to know how much time I had.”
“Time for what?”
“To get you into bed.”
Her jaw dropped, then closed with a clamp. Her eyes blazed with cold fury. At least she was showing some emotion, even if it was anger.
“I mean it. I wasn’t going to say anything, but what the hell. I want you, Corinne, and I intend to have you. I just need to know how much time I have Is it going to be slow and sweet? Or is it going to be a full-court press? I’ll let you decide.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been honing my skills while you were gone,” he said seriously, tearing off a piece of his roll. Then he grinned again as her eyes flared. Jealousy, perhaps?
“Don’t be crass, Toby.”
“I’m not being crass. I’m being honest. You should try it sometime.”
“I never lied to you.”
“You’re lying right now. You’re lying to yourself—have been all along.” He pointed at her with a piece of bread, then popped it into his mouth. “You said you came back because nothing ever happens here. Because you had nothing better to do. Because your aunt asked you to. Everything but the truth. And the truth is, you came back because you belong here. You always have. Your pride won’t let you admit you were wrong.”
“I wasn’t wrong. I left because I had to. No matter what happened while I was away, I was not wrong for going.”
He shook his head and tsked. “That stubborn pride isn’t going to get you anywhere, sweetheart.”
“Get out,” she said woolly.
He stood. “I had a feeling you were going to end up saying that. I’m going. But I’ll be back.” He winked.
She followed him to the door, her arms folded tightly over her chest. Her voice held just a hint of a tremor.
“I watched you stand in front of your dresser mirror practicing that wink so you could charm Mrs. Hobbs out of giving us homework, Toby. It never worked on me.”
“No, but this always did.”
He spun on his heel. She was close enough behind him that he didn’t have to reach. He simply opened his arms and cornered her.
>
She made a small gasp of surprise, her eyes wide. He tightened his arms around her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t give her a chance. Just before his lips touched hers, he saw her eyelids flutter closed.
Excitement—something Corinne had thought was long gone for her—flared in her chest. She let her mind swim. She thought she’d run out of feelings. Thought that Don and the gunman had killed her spirit.
She wasn’t prepared for how good it felt to be overwhelmed. A small part of her warned that this was exactly what she didn’t want. She wasn’t interested in this complication.
But a larger part knew that she hadn’t had physical contact—barring a few haircuts and a teeth cleaning—in a year. That part of her drank in the feel of Toby’s lips on hers, his arms around her, like dry, cracked earth drank in summer rain.
He tasted different now, felt different—older, more male, and infinitely more dangerous. She could almost taste it as his tongue slid boldly past the seam of her lips and against her own.
It was he, not she, who pulled away, with a little nibble at her lower lip and a gleam of hunger in his eye.
“Go away, Toby,” Corinne whispered. She looked away, then cleared her throat and repeated the order with more force. “Go home.”
“Aw, now don’t look like that. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Go away.”
“I’m going.” He stepped to the door and opened it “But I’ll be back.”
Chapter 3
Toby was half a block from Corinne’s house when he began to mentally kick himself. “You’re a jerk, Haskell. A real jerk.”
He never did have any control when it came to Corinne.
He pulled up to the station, but sat in the Jeep with one arm draped over the steering wheel for a long time, wondering if he should go back and apologize
Finally he dragged himself into the office. Luke was watching a program on the television that sat on top of a file cabinet in the corner, his booted feet propped on his desk. He didn’t acknowledge Toby’s unexpected appearance.
Toby leaned back in the chair across from Luke’s desk. He folded his hands over his belt buckle and glowered at the wall. What did he have to apologize for? All he’d done was state the truth—something Corinne never had been able to do.