Getting Lucky (A Nugget Romance Book 5)
Page 33
Sloane laughed. Jake had said the same thing and she respected his opinion. The man had been a cop while Sloane was still a toddler. And unlike her, he’d survived the snake pit.
“It’ll take some getting used to but I’m up for the challenge.” She wanted to stay positive.
“And Brady will be a great neighbor. If you’re lucky, he’ll cook for you.”
Sloane thought if he was that good of a cook he wouldn’t be stuck in the sticks, working at a bed-and-breakfast instead of running his own restaurant. But she kept that to herself.
“He seems nice.” And hopefully quiet, since they’d be living right on top of each other and her hours were bound to be odd as the new hire.
“Very,” Maddy said. “We’re crazy about him.”
Sloane bet most of the female population was, anyway. After a little more small talk with Maddy, she made her way across the square to the hamburger place. It was called the Bun Boy, which cracked her up. There were walk-up and drive-through windows, but no indoor seating. Just a smattering of picnic tables on a swath of lawn, under a few big trees. Nice in summer, but way too cold this time of year. She got her food to go and took it up to her room. She probably should’ve gone to the Ponderosa for happy hour to get more acquainted with the town, but between her interview with the chief and all the new people she’d met today, she was talked out. Nugget was a chatty place.
She ate at the writer’s desk while flipping through the channels on the flat screen. Nugget at least had cable. The food was better than expected, she thought while wolfing down a large order of seasoned curly fries. In LA, she and her girlfriends liked dining at all the trendy bistros and cafés. Sloane didn’t consider herself a foodie by any stretch. Not like her friends who read the Times restaurant reviews religiously and traded names of hot new chefs like little boys did baseball cards. Sloane couldn’t name one famous cook unless it was Paula Deen or Gordon Ramsay. But she enjoyed eating and experiencing new cuisines and flavors. Everyone in her family cooked except her. Her mother was an avid baker and her father and three brothers worked in a firehouse, where kitchen duty was as much a part of the job as putting out blazes.
She could’ve gone home to Chicago—her father had actually insisted on it when he found out what had happened on the job. “No one messes with a McBride,” he’d said. But Sloane preferred to stand on her own two feet. So Jake’s suggestion that she come here seemed like the winning option. Still, she had to wonder whether she was making a huge mistake. Having never lived in a small town, it would take a lot of adjustment. Like what kind of place doesn’t have a gym?
The room phone rang, making Sloane jump. In LA, she’d had to change all her personal numbers. Not that that had helped. The problem with cops was that they could always find you.
With trepidation she picked up. “Hello.”
“How’d it go?” Jake’s reassuring voice came across the other end.
She took a deep breath. “Good. I’m planning to take it.”
“Wise decision,” he said. “It’ll help get your confidence back. It’s good work, Sloane. People here are appreciative of what we do. You’ll be welcomed with open arms.”
She thought about Maddy and bit back a laugh. “The chief has a vacant apartment. What do you think about me taking it?”
“The place up on Donner Road? It’s perfect.”
She told him how the chief’s brother-in-law would act as landlord to prevent any awkwardness.
“That’ll work,” Jake said. “But, Sloane, Rhys is a fair guy. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“He certainly seems to be in a rush to get me here. Is there something you guys aren’t telling me?”
“Nah. He liked you from the phone interview—likes your ré-sumé, too. Most of the candidates we get up here are retirees. Rhys wants young blood.”
“Looks like a lot of cowboys up here going by all the hats and boots in the Ponderosa this morning. Will I have trouble with the town accepting a female cop?”
Jake laughed. “These are ranching people, not Neanderthals. You’ll do just fine.”
“I’m meeting Connie for lunch tomorrow. What’s her story?”
“She grew up here, started up the department with Rhys, and is a coffee snob—her sister lives in Seattle. She’s an excellent dispatcher, has a smart mouth, and we love her to death. I’m glad you’re having lunch with her. She knows where all the bodies are buried. What are your plans for dinner tomorrow?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Sloane said.
“Cecilia and I would like to have you over. She’s a marvelous cook and desperately wants to meet you.”
Sloane accepted the invitation and Jake gave her directions to his house before signing off. Instead of going straight to bed, Sloane decided to take a soak in her slipper tub. Since she’d never bathed in one, the charming clawfoot had called to her the first time she’d seen it. Everything about the inn did. It was just so warm and inviting.
On her way to the bathroom she swiped her cell off the bed and checked emails. The first one was from her parents who wanted to know how the trip had gone. All three of her brothers had left texts, demanding the scoop on Nugget.
But it was the last message, marked urgent, that chilled her to the bone and convinced her that the faster she got out of LA, the better.
“Sloane McBride, you can’t hide. We’re coming to get you.”
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Copyright © 2015 by Stacy Finz
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First Electronic Edition: November 2015
ISBN: 978-1-6165-0921-7
First Print Edition: November 2015
ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-922-4
ISBN-10: 1-61650-922-8