The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker

by Carrie Nichols

  He removed his sunglasses and put them on the dash. “What do you think?”

  “I love it. It’s gorgeous.” She turned to him and smiled.

  “You need to see inside before you pass judgment.” He swallowed as the force of her smile made his chest expand.

  She frowned suddenly. “I couldn’t possibly afford a place like this…are you sure the price you quoted me is correct?”

  He nodded when her gaze flicked to him. “Verified it with the owner this morning. Don’t forget you’re not in the northeast. Housing is less expensive here.”

  She undid her seatbelt, and he got out of the car. He hurried around to her side, but she had already stepped out. Standing staring at the house, she looked as though she was about to perform one of those dance moves like Evie when she was excited. The thought made him glad he was able to arrange the rental.

  “I…gosh, I don’t know what to say. This is prettier than anything I could’ve imagined.” She gazed lovingly at the home.

  For the first time in his life, Remy was envious of an inanimate object, but he was glad he could make her happy. That’s what he wanted. He liked seeing her smile, knowing he’d put it there. Wanting to please her had nothing to do with losing control. No, everything was working out exactly as he’d planned last night.

  “Are you sure there’s no catch?”

  “Absolutely,” he assured her. “I heard the owner was thinking of renting it out so I contacted him on your behalf.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Tell him I’ll take very good care of it.”

  He pulled a key out of his pocket. “I’m sure you will.”

  “Why is he renting it out?” she asked as she followed him onto the porch.

  “He works in the oil industry and took an extended overseas contract. I’ve kept an eye on the place for him, but having someone living here will be even better.” He inserted the key into the lock. An image of carrying Sasha over the threshold popped into his mind. Whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself, there.

  She glanced around the porch. “This would be beautiful with planters and flowers and some bright pillows on the swings. Yellow, I think. Does he need a security deposit? Because of Henry?”

  “I vouched for your character. Told him those rumors flying around about you were—”

  Her mouth popped open, and she sputtered. “Rumors? What rumors? What are you talking about?”

  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Teasing and watching her spark was way too enjoyable. Inside that conservatively wrapped package was a stick of dynamite. “Something about you kissing a stranger in a bar in—”

  She exhaled loudly. “You’re terrible. You had me believing you.”

  “Terrible? And here I was chivalrous and assured him the entire incident was…let’s see, what was that word I used…?” He snapped his fingers. “Aberration! I told him it was an aberration.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes. “Despite your despicable behavior, I can’t thank you enough for this. I never expected to find such a wonderful place.”

  “Despicable? Again with the barbs. I…”

  But one look at her grin and words flew out of his head. What had he been going to say? All he could do was stare at her mouth.

  Kiss her, an inner voice shouted. But he didn’t want to scare her off. Last time he kissed her, she’d fled. He needed to take it slow, gain her trust. She was worried about her job, and he shouldn’t ignore that if he wanted her trust. Sasha was understandably cautious, but he would get around that. In the meantime those eminently kissable lips were—

  Beep. Beep.

  The spell broken, they jumped back, looking to the street. Someone in a rusty old pickup drove past, a hand waving through the open window.

  Sasha took a step back. “Who was that?”

  He shrugged. “Could have been any number of people or just a friendly stranger.”

  He should be rejoicing the interruption. Last thing he wanted was to scare her off by rushing. Sasha wasn’t like the last woman he’d dated, who’d been all over him. But then, he couldn’t imagine that last woman enjoying a family supper with him and Evie. Nor could he imagine the sultry weather girl from a local station in New Orleans discussing Eloise books with his daughter. Is that why he’d picked someone who lived so far away from Rose Creek? To make it easier to keep those parts of his life separate and protect Evie? But this time it appeared his daughter was taking matters into her own hands.

  He shook his head to disperse troublesome thoughts and opened the front door with a flourish. “After you.”

  …

  Sasha hesitated for a moment, trying to gather her scattered thoughts and let her heart slow to its normal rhythm. She’d been convinced Remy was going to kiss her again before that pickup driver honked his horn. And she had wanted it, had started to close her eyes in anticipation, had even started to lean—

  “Sasha?” Remy was looking down at her, a puzzled frown marring his handsome face. “Don’t you want to go in?”

  “Of course.” She gave herself a mental shake, then stepped inside knowing she would love the interior as much as the exterior.

  The foyer was tiny but everything was white; even the wood floors and steps leading upstairs were whitewashed, so the small area was bright and airy. The unadorned windows let in light and gave the area a spacious feeling.

  The hardwood floors continued into the small but cozy living room. The wheat-colored upholstery on the couch and chair mixed well with the light teal walls and teal accents.

  “The owner said you can use his furniture or put it into storage. Whichever you prefer.”

  “What about his wife? Won’t she mind having her things put into storage?”

  He tilted his head. “What makes you think he’s married?”

  “This place has a woman’s touch,” she said as her gaze swept the room, taking in the throw pillows on the couch but pausing at the lack of any memorabilia. “Or had one.”

  “Had. His wife died two years ago, and that’s why he’s been taking overseas assignments. Can’t face living here without her and can’t bring himself to sell it, either.” Remy sighed and rubbed a hand over his jaw.

  Sasha nodded. Leaving the home she and Jimmy had shared had felt as if she’d abandoned Jimmy. Shaking off the old life and expectations of widowhood had been freeing, but acknowledging her old life with its dreams and expectations was well and truly over had been hard. But she was ready for her new life.

  “Sasha?” He waved his hand in front of her face.

  She blinked several times to clear away the cobwebs and memories.

  “Thought I lost you there for a minute.”

  His movements released his familiar spicy scent, doubling her heart rate, quickening her breath. She shifted and moved away from him.

  He eyed the distance she’d put between them but didn’t try to close it. “Will you need help moving in? I can round up some guys to help.”

  “Thanks. Most of my things are in storage. Since this place is already furnished, I may leave my big items there.” She liked most of the furniture items and they fit so well in the house.

  “Like I said, you can put his things in storage if you’d rather have your own with you.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll just bring some smaller items myself in a couple trips. This will be temporary unless the owner decides to sell.”

  He stalked toward her, closing the distance between them. “Why don’t you want my help?”

  She stood her ground. “I didn’t say I didn’t want your help. If I decide to bring things I can’t handle, I’ll be sure to call you.”

  “And I’ll come running, cher.” He licked his lips.

  She glanced away. “I think we need to see the rest of the place.” Before I do or say something I’ll regret.

  They toured the remainder of the snug home. There was a half bath off the hallway leading to a pleasant kitchen in the back of the house. She loved the sun-room off the k
itchen and could imagine spending a lot of time out there. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a shared bathroom.

  Back downstairs, she asked, “Are you sure the owner doesn’t mind renting it to me? Rumors aside, that is.”

  He grinned. “I told you before, he’s fine with it. Said it was a relief to know someone is looking after the place.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I am.” He checked his watch. “Now for some lunch.”

  “Don’t you have to pick up Evie?”

  “Not for several hours yet.” He reached for her hand and linked his fingers through hers. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Bossy much?”

  “What can I say? I’m a take charge kind of guy.”

  So I noticed. He’d taken charge of her kiss in New Orleans. She used the excuse that she owed him for finding her this wonderful rental to cave in and join him. Lunch in town wasn’t a date, and no one could turn it into something it wasn’t.

  They drove back to town. Sasha admired again Rose Creek’s main street with its brick storefronts, many with colorful awnings and planters full of flowers on the sidewalk.

  Remy found a parking spot in front of a small café she’d noticed several times on her way through town. Her temporary residence was on the outskirts, so she tended to frequent those places. She had a feeling this café was one of those gathering spots so unique to small towns. Remy chose a booth by one of the large windows. Margie’s Kitchen was stenciled in white letters on the glass, and the shadows from the lettering fell on the tabletop.

  “Howdy, Sheriff.” A sixtyish waitress with spiky auburn hair set a couple of menus down on the table. She had a butterfly tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “Enjoying a day off?”

  Remy’s gaze rested on Sasha. “You better believe it. Best one I’ve had in ages. Juanita, this is Sasha Honeycutt. She’s the new second grade teacher at the elementary school.”

  “Ah, that explains why my grandson is already looking forward to second grade.” Juanita grinned at Sasha. “What you want to bet we’ll suddenly have more fathers volunteering and attending school functions?”

  Sasha smiled, but she could feel her cheeks heating. “Of course it’s nice to have both parents involved, but I can’t date the parent of a student.”

  “Isn’t Evie a second-grader?” Juanita’s puzzled glance jumped between Remy and Sasha.

  “Oh, this isn’t a date.” Sasha motioned her hand between her and Remy. “It’s…it’s…nothing like that.”

  Why wasn’t Remy saying anything? Sasha gave him a you-can-jump-in-anytime glare.

  Juanita cleared her throat and rested a hand on the top of her order pad. “So, separate checks?”

  “Yes,” Sasha said at the same time as Remy answered “No.”

  Juanita licked her lips. “Well, okay…why don’t I take your drink orders and we’ll worry about the rest later.”

  Sasha watched as the chirpy waitress was stopped by another customer as she made her way to the beverage station. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but Sasha didn’t like the way Juanita and the man she was speaking with kept glancing back at them with speculative expressions.

  “Why didn’t you say something? This isn’t a date and you know it.” Sasha unfolded and refolded her napkin, trying to square up the corners. Keeping her hands busy usually helped her focus. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to work around the sexy sheriff. She couldn’t remember getting this flustered over a guy since middle school.

  Remy reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers, stilling her movements. “I apologize, cher. Do you want me to make an announcement?”

  Sasha jerked her head up. “Announcement?”

  “Yeah, you know, I could stand up and tell everyone this isn’t a date.” He chewed on his bottom lip as if to keep from laughing.

  Of all the… She yanked her hand away from his. “Are you crazy? That-that would just make it worse.”

  “How about”—he leaned across the table—“if I handcuff you? We can tell everyone I arrested you.”

  She scowled at him, but she wasn’t totally without a sense of humor, and it was kind of funny. Not that she was about to let him know that. “Be serious.”

  “Oh, darlin’, believe me, if we’re using handcuffs, things have gotten very serious.” Remy glanced around as if to see who was listening. “For all they know, we could be talking about schoolwork. Although, if you keep turning those pretty shades of red, everyone here’s gonna know we’re talking more than readin’ and writin’.”

  She glanced around the crowded café. Had the amount of customers doubled since they’d arrived? It’s lunchtime, Sasha, quit imagining things.

  He glanced around at the other patrons and, when his gaze came back to her, he drew his eyebrows together. “Is dating me such a bad thing?”

  Before Sasha could form a response, the waitress came back with their drinks. Sasha sighed. Keeping her hands busy wasn’t the answer. Reminding herself—and him—of the ethics rule about dating wasn’t helping, either. Nor was reminding herself of his occupation. She was already getting in too deep.

  Chapter Seven

  Juanita set the frosted plastic tumblers on the table between them, oblivious to the tension between Sasha and the frustrating sheriff. “Decided what you want?”

  “Yes. Sasha…” Remy’s dark eyes glittered with mischief as he looked at her mouth and winked.

  Sasha nearly choked on the sip of water she’d taken. She sputtered for a few moments. “I…I.”

  The waitress took a step back. “Why don’t I give you a few more minutes of privacy?”

  “No.” Sasha lifted her hands. “We don’t need privacy.”

  God, no. Privacy was the last thing they needed. She needed to keep him at arm’s length at all times. She was thirty-two, not some hormone-driven teen. Controlling herself around a man should be a cinch. Even one as sinfully gorgeous as Remy Fontenot.

  Sasha grabbed a menu and pretended to look at it. “I’ll have a burger and fries.”

  “I’ll have the Cajun burger.” Remy didn’t even open his menu.

  Juanita glanced at Sasha. “You want the Cajun?”

  Sasha’s gaze went directly to Remy. Yeah, she wanted the Cajun. And considering the slow grin that crossed his face, he knew it, too.

  “I’m not so sure that she does,” Remy said.

  Really? Then what was that knowing look about?

  “I wouldn’t recommend it. Remember what happened last night,” Remy said before Sasha could say anything.

  He attempted to hand the menus back to Juanita, but the spunky waitress wasn’t paying attention. Her rapt gaze was focused on Sasha, who began to squirm and call Remy names in her head.

  “I thought I was gonna have to perform CPR when you ate one of those stuffed jalapenos at Gator’s last night,” he finally explained.

  Juanita gathered the menus, holding them across her chest with her arm. “If you’re not used to them, they can be hot. Best to be cautious around anything labeled Cajun until you’re certain you can handle it.”

  “Good advice.” Sasha turned to Remy, telegraphing her annoyance. “I think I’ll stay away from anything Cajun from now on.”

  “Hey!” He straightened. “No need to be getting all drastic now, cher, no need to jump to conclusions or avoid anything. Just take things a little slower until you get used to Cajuns.”

  Would his sexy grin ever not twist her insides until she couldn’t think straight? “We are talking food, right?”

  He squirted lemon into his water and dropped the slice into the glass. “Of course we’re talking food. Whatever else would I have meant?”

  Juanita and about half the patrons in the small café were listening intently to every word they said. Sasha cleared her throat and smoothed out her napkin. “I’ll just have a regular burger, please.”

  “You got it, honey. But keep in mind, sometimes something Cajun is exactly what a woman needs.
” Juanita winked and scurried off, giggling to herself.

  Sasha rolled her eyes. “How much did you pay her to say that?”

  “Hear that sound?” He held up a finger, glancing toward the ceiling.

  “What sound?” What in the world was he talking about now?

  His gaze met hers, and one corner of his mouth ticked up. “The sound of my bruised ego.”

  “Want me to kiss it and make it better?” She clamped her mouth shut before any more ill-advised words could tumble out.

  He let out a breath. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

  “Keep counting,” she muttered, trying to regain some control. Damn the man, but he kept her flustered. She needed to steer the conversation back to safer footing. “So, why didn’t you want me to order the Cajun burger?”

  “I doubt you could take the spice.” Remy’s dark eyes glinted with a feral gleam. “And because the next time your breath gets taken away, I intend to be the cause.”

  “And I told you I can’t—”

  He interrupted her by leaning across the table, his scent invading her senses. “Who said anything about dating? Other things can be accomplished without dating.”

  She stared for a second, then closed her mouth with a click of her teeth. She should call him on all his…his shenanigans. Shenanigans? Hey, Sasha, Grandma called and she wants her vocabulary back.

  “Now don’t go rearranging the silverware.” He captured her hand in his and stroked his thumb along the inside of her wrist. Pleasure shot from her fingertips down to her toes. “Do I make you nervous?”

  Oh, absolutely. “Of course not. What makes you say that?”

  He continued to stroke her wrist while his intense gaze never left her face. “Let’s say it’s a feeling I have but, since you’re denying it, maybe we can talk about that kiss.”

  “What? No.” She glanced around the little café, half expecting everyone to be watching them, but the other customers seemed to be minding their own business. Except looks could be deceiving. Like the first time she took her car for servicing after Jimmy’s death. She was sitting in the waiting room, and half of the town’s police force happened to stop by as if signaling to the mechanic that Sasha was not an easy mark. Of course, here in Rose Creek, she was truly on her own.