Cuffing Her: A Small Town Cop Romance

by Emily Bishop

  “What is it?” Aurora asked.

  “It’s Luke,” I replied.

  “He has a car. You told me you didn’t have a car here, remember? The night you turned up in my tent.”

  “I don’t. It’s his car, and we did walk that night.”

  Aurora raised her hand and shielded her eyes from the sun overhead. “He’s slowing down.”

  “Good,” I replied but my insides jolted regardless. “Maybe he’ll save us a walk into town.”

  The car slowed to a halt beside us, and Luke cut off the luxurious growl of the engine. God, I adored the sound of that car. He opened the door and slipped out, resting his arm on the roof of the car. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

  I looked down at my bare chest, the smattering of hair there. “You’ve caught me at a disadvantage.”

  “Have you been drinking again? More blood of the ancients?”

  Aurora snorted a laugh. “Blood of the ancients?”

  “Beer,” I said. “It’s an actor thing.”

  “It’s a crazy thing,” Luke corrected and took off his sunglasses—a pair of aviators. He inserted one bow between his lips and sucked on it, looked Aurora up and down. Thank god she wasn’t topless. “Aurora, right?”

  “Right,” she said. “You were in the store the other day.”

  Luke nodded. “You’re not going to start talking about eggs again, are you?”

  Another laugh, this time longer and sweeter. It tickled the back of my neck.

  “Don’t tempt me,” she replied, eyes twinkling. All the uncertainty from a couple minutes ago had evaporated. Was it a mask she’d put on? She was an enchantress, one second concerned, the next caring, and the next, mysterious, sparkling. I could barely keep track of my thoughts around her, and my emotions toed the line.

  “So, what are you two cute kids doing out here?” Luke asked and clacked the long arm of his sunglasses against his teeth. “Get a little hot there, Jay?”

  “No, I was taking a walk with Aurora. She showed me some property she’s interested in.” That would have to suffice. “I lost my shirt after I ripped it on a tree branch.”

  Skepticism oozed from my friend. “You sure a raccoon didn’t run off with it?”

  Another laugh from Aurora.

  Why did Luke have to be so god damn charming? Are you actually jealous? Christ, since when do you get jealous?

  “Perhaps you could show me this real estate some time?” Luke asked. “I’ve got an eye for this type of thing. In fact, I might be interested in buying down here.” He wasn’t flirting. The charm-o-Luke was his style.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said, in clipped tones. “Aurora has already made her decision. Anyway, we need a ride into town. Care to oblige, big guy?”

  Aurora stiffened and stared at me, lips drawn into a thin line. Shit, what did I say?

  “Sure, hop in, folks.” Luke patted the top of the Porsche. “Limited seating. First come, first serve. One of you may have to sit on the lap of the other.”

  “I’ll walk,” Aurora said. “Thanks for offering, though. Very kind of you.”

  “Walk? You’re barefoot.”

  Aurora spread her arms and smiled. “Consider it my natural state. I’m a gypsy.”

  Thank god, she didn’t add in the “whore” part.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “You’ll cut up your feet. Get in the car. We’ll drop you off at the park.”

  “No,” she said. “Thank you. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

  “What? Aurora—” Was that what she thought? I was the one who wanted her to come back with me, for fuck’s sake.

  “Have a good day, guys.” She nodded then set off down the street.

  “Aurora!” I started after her.

  “Dude, let her go,” Luke said. “If she wants to walk, she wants to walk. What can you do?” He fired up the engine of the car. “What did you do to piss her off?”

  I scratched the back of my neck. “I honestly have no idea.”

  Chapter 10

  Aurora

  The concrete burnt the soles of my feet, and the soft rustle of wind in the trees on my side of the road did nothing to calm me. I was hot, all right, hot from the outside in and inside out. He was embarrassed of me.

  The minute Luke had said anything approaching friendliness, Jarryd had clammed right up and shut it down. He didn’t want me knowing his friends, and that meant he didn’t see me as anything more than a passing attraction. A sideshow at the carnival. Literally.

  Man, I’d screwed the pooch on this one—ew, horrible saying, accurate as it was.

  I stomped toward the friendly welcome sign, painted with a crescent moon and the happy, bold font: Welcome to Moondance!

  Thankfully, Luke and Jarryd hadn’t roared past in their sports car yet. Perhaps they’d decided to take a country drive before returning to the town. As long as I didn’t have to put up with the resultant awkward tension, I didn’t care.

  Except you do care. You care too much, now. What are you going to do about it?

  In the past, whenever I doubted anything, I’d whip out my tarot cards and do a reading.

  Clear out my thoughts. But the prospect of doing that now twisted my gut. It reminded me that I had bigger problems than the gorgeous Jarryd Tombs.

  Work had been super quiet at the carnival, and there were only a few days left before it closed entirely. What then? How would I save up money to buy Mom’s place if I couldn’t earn my way?

  I knuckled my forehead and entered town, passing the barbershop and the ladies’ boutique along the way. A few people stared, most lifted a hand in greeting. They’d grown accustomed to my presence, at least, even if some of them didn’t like it.

  Like that guy in the butcher’s. He gave me the stink-eye and wasn’t shy about it then turned his back to the window.

  The mix of reactions didn’t puzzle me.

  “People don’t understand us, Aurora. And what they don’t understand, they fear. Don’t let it bother you. Just keep on keeping on, honey. Your star shines too brightly for some folks.” That was what my mother had told me, various iterations over the course of my life.

  I shook my hair back, ran my fingers through it, and tugged out a couple knots. I had to keep looking and moving forward. Strong as a rock, changeable as the ocean’s tides.

  “Aurora,” a man called out.

  I turned my head, and my mood lifted right away.

  “Jerry!” I waved at the elderly fellow across the street, perched on the edge of an outdoor picnic table in front of the Moondance Bar and Grill.

  The establishment had been around since I could remember, its four-paned windows peering out at the street and the forest behind, the rumble of laughter and conversation leaking from its open door. Along with it came the enticing scent of grilled meat, tangy with Jerr’s famous BBQ Sauce—a secret recipe he’d take to his grave.

  “Come on over, girl.” He beckoned.

  I hurried across the road—ouch, hot—hopping like a frog on hot tar, and halted in front of Jerr, the man of the hour.

  Silver hair, disturbed by the breeze, covered his crown, and his green eyes gave me the fatherly onceover I’d grown accustomed to in the time I’d worked in the restaurant. “Hale, I see. But what possessed you to walk around barefoot, girl? You lost your marbles?”

  “I may well have,” I replied and stepped onto the grass in front of the Bar and Grill.

  He patted the table then sat down on one of the attached seats. “Yee-ouch!” He shifted and adjusted the seat of his pants. “Darn, splinters. Don’t tell Georgia I said that. She’s been at me for months to sand down these damn benches.”

  I grinned at him. “So? Why haven’t you?”

  “Too busy with other things, of course. I’ll get to it in due course.”

  In due course could range anywhere from a couple months to a year with Jerr.

  I took my place opposite him and rested my tired feet on the grass. “Th
at’s better,” I said and tipped my head back to catch the wind. Coldness pricked against my skin, the cooling of sweat I’d worked up on the way over.

  “How are you, girlie? You haven’t come by in weeks.”

  “I didn’t want to inconvenience you,” I said, “I know how busy you are.”

  “And I know you’re struggling,” Jerr replied. He was a salt-of-the-earth kinda guy and always said what he meant, even if it brought out blushes and awkward laughter.

  “Jerr, I’m fine.”

  “Aw, hell, you and I both know the people in this town aren’t partial to fortune-telling or tarot cards or that other thing you do with the hands.”

  “Palmistry?”

  “Palmistee, yeah. Now, I’m not trying to stick my nose in your business but I don’t want to see you go hungry because of the assholes in this town,” Jerry finished, a little too loudly.

  A couple of locals who’d walked by looked back, scandalized.

  “Yeah, I said it,” he called after them.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Jerry wriggled his nose and ran his finger down the hooked bridge. “All right. So why did you come back to Moondance after all these years? It’s about your mom, isn’t it?”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “That’s a yes.”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s about her. I can’t get this place out of my mind, Jerr. It’s crept into my soul and burrowed deep. The last time I had a truly happy memory was here, out in the cabin.”

  “You want to buy it back,” Jerr said and nodded, briskly. Salt-of-the-earth or not, he was one sharp crystal.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I s’pose that’s a good idea. This place has improved since you were here last. Did you hear? We got a swimming pool now. Kids are all nuts over it at the middle school.”

  “That’s great,” I said.

  Georgia, Jerry’s rotund wife, sauntered out of the restaurant carrying a tray with two tall glasses. “Thought you might like a couple sodas to wash down Jerry’s bullshit,” she said and winked at me.

  Rotund or not, Georgia possessed a natural beauty that caught stares from many of the patrons. But she had eyes only for her husband, who was a good ten years older than her and officially a silver fox. That was what she’d told me in private, anyway.

  “You’re my hero, Gee,” I said and lifted the glass. I downed it in one move and let out a tiny burp. “Whoops, sorry.”

  “Bullshit,” Jerr grumbled. “I was telling Aurora how things have gotten better around here, and out you come with your same old fish wife act to ruin it.” They were the epitome of an old married couple.

  “Speaking of which, did you hear about that actor guy?” Georgia asked. “Just arrived in town.”

  “Yeah, Georgia’s barely kept her eyes in her skull since he arrived. Always peeking out of windows or searching the net for him.”

  I swallowed. Just the topic I’d wanted to avoid. Oh well, right? Apparently, the universe was determined to show Jarryd Tombs into my path no matter how I wriggled.

  “I’d better get back inside,” she said and pecked her husband on the forehead. “You know I only have eyes for you, honey bun.”

  Jerry’s bluster disappeared, and he gave her the softest look I’d ever witnessed. “You keep it that way.”

  Gee hurried back into the restaurant and was embraced by laughter and chatter once more.

  “You heard about him, though?” Jerry asked. God, were we still on that? “It’s the biggest news Moondance has had in years.”

  “I bet.”

  “I hear he’s just broken up with Felicity Swan,” he continued.

  “The town’s treasure,” I said.

  “Pffft.” Jerr made a noise like a punctured tire. “So they say. She came by a few days ago with her nose in the air. I’ll tell you, I never liked that girl, and my opinion hasn’t improved. Don’t let Georgia hear me say it—she’ll come over scandalized and feed me salt in my coffee instead of sugar.”

  “I don’t know either of them well enough to make a judgment.”

  “That’s you, though. You’re so used to being judged you won’t put the pain onto anybody else.” Jerr thumbed his chest. “I know what Felicity’s like. Under all that makeup and prettiness, she’s an empty shell.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “Harsh but true. Nobody wears that many designer clothes and that much glitter eye stuff—”

  “Eyeshadow.”

  “Right. Eyeshadows. No one wears that much glittery eyeshadows without having something to hide. Or nothing at all. I don’t like it, and I don’t trust it. She ordered a salad in here the other day. To go.”

  “To go!”

  “Exactly.”

  Sitting down in the Moondance Bar and Grill was part of the experience. Folks here were expected to eat their meals at their tables like good folks do. Ordering to go was sacrilege. This wasn’t a big city.

  “I mean, what does she think this is? A big city? The Moondance Bar and Grill isn’t a Starbucks.”

  “Starbucks doesn’t serve salads,” I replied, totally enjoying Jerr’s enthusiasm. Hanging out with the old man felt like being home again. He was probably the only father figure I’d ever had. At the same time, it hurt thinking back—Mom had always been around, too.

  “Salads! Don’t even get me started on that. And it wasn’t a regular salad either. It was one of those ones without the dressing. And no cheese. Boy, she was adamant about that. Half scared me to death with a look when I suggested some crumbled feta.”

  “Heaven forbid,” I said. That’s the type of woman Jarryd likes. One with long blond hair and fancy clothes, who eats salads.

  “Right? Well, that’s their type,” he said. “Salads and takeaway coffees and manicures. I can’t wrap my head around it.” Jerr was on a roll now, and once he started on a topic, it was difficult to tear him from it.

  I pressed the tip of my index finger to the glass and traced a heart in the condensation. I smeared it out again.

  “Actors,” Jerry said, “are a plague. It’s not even a real job. Sure, it’s entertainment but it’s so blown out of proportion these days. And they all think they’re god’s gift to the green earth.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  “I don’t care for the group in general. He might be a nice cat, but I say you should never trust an actor. My nephew’s kid ran off to LA, and before he knew it, the kid had gotten himself involved in all kinds of illegal activities. Didn’t end well for the kid, and a total headache for my nephew.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Ah, we all make our own beds,” Jerr said then sniffed and took a swig of his soda. He settled the glass on the table between us—a dull clunk against the wood. “Speaking of which, how would you feel about taking a job here?”

  I looked up, eyelids fluttered. Was he serious? It’d been so long since I’d worked in his restaurant. “You don’t have to do that. You have enough help with Gee here.”

  “No, I don’t,” Jerr said. “And yeah, I’m worried about you, kid, but that’s not the only reason I’m asking. Ever since the actor troupe came to town, I’m swamped with lookie loos twenty-four seven. Thankfully, they actually buy. I need the help.”

  So, everyone in Moondance was desperate to catch a glimpse of Jarryd Tombs, and Felicity Swan, too, no doubt.

  “Are you sure?” It would take a weight off my shoulders. I had a little saved to buy the cabin, but I’d dipped into it trying to keep myself afloat in Moondance. It’d only been a few months, but man, I could use a few bills to line my pockets. Heck, I might even be able to save again.

  “I’m positive, girl. I maintain you’re the best help I ever had at this restaurant,” he said and smoothed his fingers over the top of the table. He caught another splinter, hissed, and stuck his thumb in his mouth. “When can you start?”

  “When do you need me?” I asked, and a little of the pressure in my head released. This would kee
p me busy when things slowed at the fairgrounds, and it would keep me away from Jarryd Tombs and our undeniable attraction.

  “I need you right away,” he said. “You got your tent up today?”

  “Only this afternoon. I could work for you this evening?”

  “Perfect! It’s settled.” He grinned. “It’s good to have you back, Aurora. It’s good to have a little magic in Moondance again.”

  Chapter 11

  Jarryd

  The inside of the Moondance Bar and Grill wasn’t what I’d expected. There were plenty of windows, which looked out on the forest at the back of the building, and the walls were quaint, made of wood—kind of like a massive log cabin. A fire crackled in a central grate, giving off warmth and the scent of woodsmoke.

  It mingled perfectly with the smells of cooking meat.

  “What do you think of it?” Luke asked. “Is it too open?” He gestured to the bar at the far end of the room, behind which stood a shelf stacked with bottles of every shape and color.

  “I like it,” I said. “But I’m not sure if it’s right for the scene.” Pride’s Death had a decidedly dingy atmosphere in comparison to the other thrillers I’d written and produced.

  “Which scene are we talking about?” Felicity asked and deigned to look up from her cellphone. She’d spent the last five minutes since we’d arrived tapping on the screen, answering texts or emails. I no longer gave a fuck.

  Thankfully, she wasn’t on my side of the table. A couple of weeks ago, she’d broken my heart, days after that I’d considered taking her back, and now? Aurora had erased what feelings I’d had for her and replaced them with disdain.

  “The scene,” Luke said and flipped papers on his clipboard, “where our female main character comes in dripping wet and meets the male main character for the first time. It’s right after she’s been chased through the woods by our killer.”

  Dripping wet. Kind of reminded me of the night Aurora and I met and made love.

  “I think this place is perfect. I mean, the warmth in here is pretty infectious,” Felicity said. “Just don’t ask them to bring you a salad. It’s like they have no clue how to make one. Do you know, they tried to give me feta cheese? Vom.”