Reunited with the Sheriff

by Lynne Marshall

  She sighed, sounding frustrated with him, then got lost in her notes again. Ahead was the Golden Gate Bridge, and she stopped reading long enough to silently look up at the beautiful sight.

  He swore he wouldn’t set himself up to let Shelby rip out his heart again, yet here he was driving her to the job interview that could change her life…and his. Well, it was time to spell it out, he’d been a coward keeping it to himself until now. “I love you. Can’t you see that? I’m sacrificing what I want for us, for what you seem to need for you.”

  Her eyes blinked, she twisted the Claddagh ring around and around, but she didn’t utter a sound. Then, after a few more seconds of silence, “I wish you would’ve told me that sooner.”

  “Would it have mattered?” Frustrated beyond belief, he’d just told her he loved her and it wasn’t soon enough! He glared at the road. Besides, with her so hell-bent on making a name for herself, he doubted it would’ve made any difference. But he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “You think I’ve pushed you away every time I’ve encouraged you. Well, I’ve always felt you never bothered to consider for one second how I might feel whenever you left.”

  She grabbed her head. “I’ve got the interview of my life coming up. This is a horrible time for this conversation.”

  “When will it ever be the right time, Shel?” He tried to make eye contact as he said it, but she’d clearly shut down, staring at the floorboard, her lips turned in a straight line.

  A few minutes later they arrived at the restaurant, Conor scoped out a place to park underground, and noticed an old coffee shop catty-corner to her appointment. He pulled to the loading zone in front of the building and let her out.

  “Hey, good luck,” he said as Shelby gathered her things to get out of the car.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t look at him.

  She was nervous all right—it took her two tries to open the door. When she stood, half of her note cards scattered to the ground, and she scrambled to pick them up, no easy feat in a pencil skirt.

  “I’ll wait across the street at that diner.” He pointed.

  She nodded, turned and, chin up, headed inside the building.

  He didn’t have a clue how long an interview for a sous-chef job would take, so he took his time parking and walked down the street. It was slow in the run-down diner, and he was able to get a window seat to keep watch. He ordered some eggs, over easy, and toast. Because his stomach was a mess with acid and knots, he skipped the coffee, but kept his eye on the building across the street.

  *

  Shelby headed straight to the ladies’ room after Conor had dropped her off. She needed to clear her head, but her mind had been spinning out of control since he’d finally told her again that he loved her. What crappy timing! How could she pull her thoughts together before the interview of a lifetime?

  She stared into the mirror, fixed her bangs and applied more lipstick, then gave herself a tepid pep talk. You have to go through with this. Now is the moment of truth. You either have what it takes, or you don’t. It’s time to finally find out. She pushed the elevator button for the eleventh floor, as per the instructions she’d been given. It was old and slow, and luckily, she was all by herself.

  Conor had said he loved her, but he’d probably be glad to get rid of her now. Who was she kidding. History proved he wasn’t like that. It’d taken a fight and a challenge for him to finally admit he loved her again, though. Could she blame him after what she’d done to him? But the best guy she’d ever met in her entire life had just said he loved her. It’d knocked the wind out of her, too. And that was what she needed, because now she finally got it. Finally. All those little games about a do-over and starting fresh were a bunch of lies. Of course he’d hesitate. She’d said she was ready to be with him again, but he didn’t believe her because of her track record, and he was also wiser than her and saw what she couldn’t. The man understood what she’d been trying to ignore. Deep down she’d still been holding out for her big break, and he knew her secret—she was still chasing her dream. How could he ever trust her when she was so out of touch with herself?

  She’d always used the excuse of Conor pushing her out the door, but it’d been her who’d kept their relationship hanging all along, no matter what the collateral damage was for him, and she was still doing it.

  Well, her father may have pushed her away, and Laurent, too, but Conor, the best man she’d ever known, and loved, wasn’t like them. They’d done it for selfish reasons, but all Conor wanted was for her to be happy. Even if it meant she hurt him.

  My God, how did I not figure this out?!

  The elevator doors opened, and she shook her head, hoping to refocus so she could be coherent for the interview. Trembling inside for a million reasons, and only a tiny percentage over the job interview, she walked down a deep-red carpeted hall to an office at the end, opened the stately dark wood door and approached the stylish and young receptionist.

  “May I help you?” Way too perky for the mood Shelby had landed in.

  “Yes, I’m Shelby Brookes. Damian Black arranged an interview for me today.”

  *

  After an hour of pushing cold eggs around a plate and pretending to read the newspaper, Conor got tired. He paid for his meal, leaving extra for a good tip, and wandered outside. He didn’t want to go far in case Shelby came out, so he walked a half block one way then back on one side of the street, crossed on the light and did the same on the other side of the street.

  It wasn’t the best part of town, that was for sure, and he wanted to be right there when Shelby left, so he headed back that way. Halfway down the block he saw her hit the street, like she was going to the diner, and picked up his pace to head her off.

  He saw a rough-looking guy with long dirty-blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail emerge from a doorway, look both ways, then follow her a few steps. Worry flashed through Conor. He couldn’t lose her.

  Ready to grab the guy if he tried anything, and thinking like a deputy, he took off in a sprint. The man said something to her. She reached in her purse. No! He’d be too late. Obviously the man planned to steal her purse, even if it meant hurting her, then run. But before Conor could catch up, the would-be “mugger” accepted a bill from Shelby and turned down the next street.

  Freaking out over a panhandler proved exactly how much Conor needed Shelby, now he knew he had to stop her from making this huge mistake. Don’t leave me again.

  *

  After Conor grabbed Shelby and held her as if for dear life, and she’d explained the situation, they’d laughed about his rushing in to save her.

  “I’ve always dreamed about getting saved by the man I love,” she said.

  He kissed her like he never wanted to let her go, and she believed him.

  And because they were in the beautiful city of San Francisco, the city of love, they decided to rent a room and spend the night rather than make the long drive home.

  She’d just gotten off the phone with her mother, explaining the last-minute change in plans. Laurel Prescott had volunteered to watch Benjamin that morning, and promised to keep him until her mother got off work. She knew he’d been in good hands all day.

  Seeing Conor running toward her, the fear on his face over a homeless man daring to ask her for change, had driven home how true and noble and downright heroic the man was. And how much he loved her. He was even willing to fight for her!

  He’d finally said the words I love you on the drive in, too. But actions were better than words. Now there was no doubt.

  Did she need a bolt of lightning to get it? He was a man worth loving, which she definitely did, and he deserved the woman he loved to stick around. Good thing she’d already come to her senses.

  They checked into a hotel that cost a week’s salary for one night, but figured that under the circumstances, they deserved the luxury. After taking a long sexy shower together, they pulled down the extra puffy covers on the bed.

  By the time she lay back and p
ut her head on the pillow, Conor was there, smiling over her, a look that could only be described as love in his eyes. “I thought I might have lost you today,” he whispered.

  She chuckled again. “You mean from the poor guy asking for coffee money?”

  He moved in and they kissed in a way only two people needing to get lost in each other would.

  After they’d had sex full of calisthenics and crazy positions, they ordered room service and chowed down on overpriced, mediocre hotel food. Then they made love again, this time slow and tender, so so tender. Shelby hoped Conor could read her body language and know how much she loved him. They joined together and the man never ceased to blow her mind.

  Finally sated from all the goodness she could stand for one afternoon and evening, she snuggled into Conor’s arms, knowing it was time to tell him what she’d learned that day.

  “I noticed you haven’t asked about the job.”

  “Did you get it?” His voice was filled with hesitation. She rushed to put her thoughts in order.

  “That’s a long story.”

  “And I want to hear every word.”

  “Well, first you’re going to have to hear a lot of other stuff. Things I finally learned today.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, for instance, I know without a single doubt that a great guy named Conor lives in Sandpiper Beach, and Benjamin’s grandmother, who loves to spoil him, lives there, too. I have the run of the kitchen at The Drumcliffe, and the whole Delaney clan wants to see me succeed.” She turned to him and grabbed hold of his mellow gaze. “Especially my hero. You.” The corner of his mouth twitched. He must’ve liked where she was going with this.

  “That’s a lot to figure out during a job interview.”

  Her mouth curved up, tolerating his bad attempt at a joke. “I figured out most of it on the ride in, and the rest in the elevator.”

  He played with the hair at her neck. “Anything else you learn?”

  “Sandpiper Beach is where I grew up, and no matter how far I travel, it will always be the home of my dreams…as long as you’re there.”

  Obviously liking all the things she’d figured out that day, he took her in his arms and kissed her long and sweetly.

  How could a day that was meant to drive another wedge in their relationship wind up being perfect? Now it was her turn to kiss the hell out of him. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” she said, once done.

  “It wasn’t a choice.” His fingers caressed her cheek and jaw as a question formed in those beautiful sunny-morning, blue irises. “So? Did you get the job?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a second for the answer to sink in, watched the light dim in his stare and couldn’t take it another cruel second. “And I turned it down. Because I love you and I want to stay with you. That is, if you still love me after how awful I’ve been.”

  “I still love you. Never stopped, just didn’t want to admit it.” He started to say more, but she put her finger over his lips.

  “And also, it depends on if you can accept Benjamin, like a dad would, since he’s never had one.”

  A relaxed smile stretched his mouth. “That’s easy, because I already have. I’ve just been waiting for the word, and now that you’re sticking around, I plan to put a down payment on the Beacham House. Will you and Benjamin live there with me?”

  Could the guy be any more of a dream? “Yes, of course, but isn’t it totally run-down?” she said as she crawled onto his body, remembering how they used to set up camp on the first floor in front of a stone fireplace where a den was supposed to be.

  “Nothing a huge renovation can’t fix.”

  As a person who’d just had a complete renovation of her attitude—love was more important than success—she knew nothing was impossible. “I believe you.”

  Then she used her body to show Conor how happy she was to finally see that dreams really could come true.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tuesday midmorning, after the early drive home from San Francisco, Conor took Shelby to Laurel’s B&B to pick up Benjamin. He’d been left there by Donna on her way to school. Benjamin squealed with happiness to see his mommy again, and something indescribable took place in Conor’s heart. Feelings of honest-to-God love for the kid. Shelby had been such a huge part of Conor’s life for so many years that it only seemed natural to love her son, too.

  “Are you ready to see the Beacham House?” he asked finally doing the complicated job of hooking up Benny’s car seat on his own.

  “I’m actually nervous,” she said, watching over his shoulder.

  “Worried you might hate it?”

  “Well, yeah, but I remember it as being a dream house, the bones of a dream house anyway.” He stood and she looked straight into Conor’s memories of the times they’d made love that summer. He sensed it in her moony gaze as she connected with his eyes. The upward tug at the corner of her mouth was her tell.

  “That’s right. Look at it that way. The shell is all there—the floors, the walls, even parts of the upstairs are almost complete.” Someone, a long time ago, had started to build their dream home and something had stopped them. Some rooms were finished, others left undone. A person might think of that as bad luck, or a hex on the house, but not Conor. For him, it was all opportunity. His. “It gives us the chance to upgrade and update, and make sure that house lasts a lifetime.” He wondered if she noticed his slipup saying “us” and especially “lifetime.”

  Her cheeks pinkened, and her nostrils flared for an instant. “Why, Conor Delaney, you sound like someone who’s ready to propose.”

  If they were playing a staring contest, he would’ve won, but he had no intention of sharing every single one of his thoughts just yet. He might have plans of such things, but in his own way, and time.

  She slipped silently into the car and he closed the door, then walked in front of it, knocking on the hood twice for some dumb kind of dramatic effect, got in on the driver’s side, gave Shelby a deep—what he wanted to think was also mysterious—smile, then started the car and put it in gear.

  A short drive into the hills later, they were on a road that cut off by itself and landed on an unremarkable bluff with a distant view of the ocean. If the Beacham House had been built somewhere else, it would’ve been worth millions, but having been built here, left only half-done and in disrepair for so long, no one saw its worth. Except Conor.

  Sandpiper Beach wasn’t a trendy enough place for people with money to want to settle in. It was a middle-class town with good enough places of business and schools. Nothing shouted, “Look at us,” here. They didn’t have the magnificent oceanfront that cities up the coast did, or the convenience of big city malls and Starbucks on every corner as their neighbors did to the south. Some might call the place unremarkable, but Conor preferred to judge his hometown by the number of parks and the character of the inhabitants. Starting with early settlers there like his grandfather, the community that raised Conor outside of his parents’ home, and ending with the people he saw and helped every day on the job, they were what made Sandpiper Beach special. An outsider passing through wouldn’t understand.

  He parked, helped Shelby and Benjamin out of the car, carrying the boy himself, and led the way to the front of the house. Benny felt sturdy and warm in his arm, and he liked how the boy studied him up close before testing his morning stubble with tiny fingertips. Yep, I’m real. And you’re awfully cute.

  Some windows were installed, some weren’t. There was a framed but unfinished front door that all they had to do was step around. In his mind, he saw a different kind of door with a long oval stained-glass window. He also knew the local artisan who’d been very grateful when Conor had stopped a burglary in his workshop, and who offered to give Conor a great price on stained glass any time he wanted.

  He looked at Shelby and laughed. “No need for a key. Let’s go in.” Because he’d laughed, Benny did, too. “Yeah, let’s take a look inside, huh?” And yes, he’d slipped into a goo
fy voice while talking to the boy. It came naturally.

  Shelby was quiet, but looked everywhere. He wondered if she hated it or saw the possibilities, too.

  For the next thirty minutes, they toured around the first floor, sharing their vision of what could go where. She had some great ideas, too, which relieved him. It proved she did see the house’s potential.

  When she started for the stairs, he stopped her. “I don’t trust it’s safe to go up there. Yet.”

  “I’d like to see the view from there.”

  “Follow me.” He led her outside to the backyard, and pointed for her to look up. The back of the house had an upstairs deck with a huge window in what he knew was the master bedroom, giving it a lift well above the overgrown shrubs and bushes to see the ocean unhindered. “See that?”

  Her eyes widened as she nodded.

  “You’ll be able to see the horizon on clear days, I guarantee.” The hair on his arms rose as he saw his dream take hold for Shelby. Yes, she shared the dream, too.

  “Look! We’ve already got a white picket fence.” She pointed to the little run-down fence that rimmed the entire property along the back.

  He loved hearing her say “we.” That had been his plan all along after that amazing summer six years ago—that when they met again they’d become “we.” All these years later, the Beacham House had gone into hiding thanks to natural overgrowth, and held out for him and his secret dream.

  “I’m going to put a bid on the house this week.”

  Shelby scrunched up her shoulders and hugged herself. “How exciting.”

  Benny wiggled in his hold. “Yeah, one day I’ll actually move out of my family’s hotel.”

  As Conor laughed, Benny thought that was funny, too, and laughed along with him.

  Conor saw it in Shelby’s eyes, the waiting. She was wondering, Will he, won’t he propose?