by Cindi Madsen
“Wasted.”
She gave his shoulder a light shove. “Gee, thanks. I was going to say slightly tipsy—sounds much better.”
“Stop stalling and shoot the cup,” he teased, gripping her hips and turning her to face the trash can.
She cocked her arm and then let it fly. Her throw went wide and short, landing feet away from the can. “Oh great. I’ve gotten worse.”
Emmett retrieved another cup and crumpled it. He wasn’t sure why this suddenly seemed important, but while she’d been joking before, her expression spoke to a sense of failure that had to do with more than her toss. “Not to do the cheesy-guy-showing-a-girl-how-to-shoot thing, but …” He stepped up behind her. “I’m going to teach you how to aim and follow through.”
“Usually follow through is my thing,” she said, her lips slightly pursed.
“Good. Then you’ll be a natural.” He gave her the cup and slid his hand down her arm. Even with all the layers, his pulse quickened. He guided her arm up and put it through the motions a few times. “We’re gonna let go this time. Ready?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. For a moment, time froze. Determination set in to her jaw, and then she nodded. “Ready.”
“I did it!” It took a couple of times with Emmett’s help—and okay, they’d scooted a yard or so closer—but she’d finally managed to land a cup in the recycling bin. She spun in Emmett’s arms and peered up at him. His teeth weren’t showing, but that was definitely a smile.
Her heart skipped a few beats, and without notice, her body went haywire on her.
What was she doing this close to a guy? One she barely knew, the day after she was supposed to get married. She took a large step back. “I, uh, guess I’d better get back to the B&B.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“Can’t vouch for everyone out and about tonight?” she asked, attempting to infuse a teasing tone into her voice. She needed to steer things back to lighter territory. Safer territory.
Emmett’s eyes remained steady on hers. “I can. I’d still feel better if I walked you there myself.”
A torn sensation went through her, half celebration, half fear. But it was only a couple of blocks. Not like she could fall for a guy in that short a distance. She was relatively sure anyway, although these days everything she thought she knew kept coming unraveled.
They picked up a few more stray cups on their way out of the park, opting for dropping them into the bin instead of shooting them inside.
Without Emmett’s heat at her back, the icy air cut through all her layers, and she tugged her borrowed coat tighter around her. She went ahead and added another scarf coil around the lower part of her face because maybe that’d keep her from thinking about silly things like what it’d feel like to press her lips to the sheriff’s.
They walked mostly in silence, the majority of the talking done by people they bumped into on the sidewalk. After parting ways with another pair who’d stopped to inquire about their evening and wish them a good night, Regina said, “Um, you might want to vouch for me, because everyone we pass is studying me super closely.”
“Correction, they’re studying us closely. And I’m not sure I know you well enough to vouch for you.”
As tended to happen around him, her jaw dropped. She made an offended noise and smacked his arm.
“For one, you go around hitting the sheriff,” he said with a chuckle. Both of them slowed their pace as the Cozy Cottage came into view. Mere minutes ago, she wanted to hurry and get there so she could lock herself in her room. Perhaps take a hot bath and see if she could get feeling back in her extremities. But now she wanted to slow down again. Her emotions really needed to make up their mind.
Logic said this guy was dangerous—when it came to her already beaten-up heart anyway. And she was only here temporarily. And a hundred other “ands.”
Emmett walked her all the way to the front porch and then braced his hand on the beam next to her.
“One more citizen delivered safe and sound,” she said, her voice slightly breathy, and not from the walk or the cold. “You deserve a gold star. Oh, wait. You’ve already got one.”
He bit back his smile.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Refuse to smile. The only full smile I’ve seen was at your sister’s. And don’t act like you’re not holding it back, because I’m hilarious.”
“You do look kinda funny in that scarf.”
She shoved his solid chest, and he chuckled, his laugh and corresponding smile subdued but there. Then his brown eyes landed on hers. “Maybe I forgot how.” When she aimed a skeptical expression his way, he added, “It’s not easy walking the right line between friendly and stern. Going overboard on the stern is better than everyone thinking they can take advantage of the friendly.”
“But Fern said you’ve been grouchier lately.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have started this line of questioning, but she couldn’t help herself. Even as she told herself to tread carefully, she wanted to know more. “Is there a reason for that?”
“Besides the fact that there’s an event every night, and at each one of those, someone will park in the wrong space, or think they should have special privileges, or a hundred other … what did you call them? First World problems?”
“Yes, besides that.”
“Not sure. Just haven’t felt like myself.” His gaze dipped to her mouth for the briefest second. “But tonight’s been the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
She leaned closer and toyed with the edges of his jacket. He should zip it up. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t too cold, but she liked that she could peek at the form-fitted shirt under the layers. Before tonight, she might’ve claimed a man in uniform didn’t affect her. “Does that mean I get a full smile?”
“Not yet,” he said, a slight curve to his lips. “But maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll see one eventually.”
“Oh, I’ll get one out of you yet.”
“Good night, Regina.” Even though he’d wished her goodbye, he didn’t move, his palm still braced by her head. Now she was the one staring at lips—his, obviously.
Nope, the scarf didn’t stop thoughts of kissing him. It did help her from following through though. “Good night, Emmett.”
He closed his eyes, so fleetingly she almost thought she imagined it, and his fingers lightly brushed her cheekbone as he pushed back, turned, and walked back the way they’d come.
Chapter Five
“So, we couldn’t help noticing you spent most of the time at the tree lighting ceremony with the sheriff,” Fern said Monday morning, pulling a chair away from the table in the living room of the B&B and plopping herself into it.
“And that he walked you home,” Marge, the woman who’d given her the giant scarf, added.
While Regina kept her attention on the breakfast plate in front of her, she was no longer worried about her lack of personal space. She was quickly learning that didn’t exist here in Friendship. She sipped her orange juice, taking her sweet time as she calculated how to respond. “He was just being a gentleman.”
Two unconvinced faces stared at her, clearly waiting for more.
Fern sighed. “Come on. We need more than that. He’s a right grouch lately, and we were hoping you could help him get over that.”
“Careful. It sounds like you’re pimping out your guests.”
“Hey, I’m not entirely opposed to it,” Fern said, and Marge hooted like she’d told a grand joke. Most of the time when the words bad influences got tossed around, people automatically pictured rebellious teenagers, but these two were definitely up to no good.
Emmett warned me to look out for the gray-haired ladies. Next thing you know, they’re going to insist on teaching me to sew. Or knit. Stifling a laugh, Regina picked up her biscuit and split it so she could add butter and jam. “You remember how I was supposed to walk down the aisle a few days ago?”
The ch
air legs scraped across the wooden floor as Marge scooted her chair closer. “We remember that you didn’t. That’s the important part.”
“Doesn’t mean my heart didn’t get plenty beat up.”
Both women appeared slightly reprimanded, but Regina doubted it’d last so she figured she should change the subject. “If I’m going to stay two weeks—”
“You are,” Fern said in a no-room-for-argument tone.
“Then I’m going to need more than the outfit I borrowed from Callie and the suitcase full of summer clothes I packed for the beach.” This morning, she’d put on Callie’s jeans along with a ruffled short-sleeved blouse that’d have her freezing to death in five minutes flat if she dared to step outside without her also-borrowed coat and scarf. “Where does one shop for clothes around these parts?”
Fern’s eyes widened in a way that sent a prickling sense of foreboding across Regina’s skin. “You could ask the sheriff to drive you into the city. Takes just over an hour to get there, so that’d give you lots of time together.”
“Or I could take my very own car.” The thought made her blood pressure rise. Snow didn’t exactly melt here, and she worried she’d end up sliding into a ditch somewhere, and then she’d be another problem for Emmett to solve. Or worse, she’d discover she didn’t have cell reception and end up alone for hours. More than that, now that she’d settled in, she didn’t want to spend any more of her vacation time traveling. Although, if it meant being with Emmett … “I’m sure the sheriff’s busy.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t be if he knew spending time with you was an option. You’d be doing us a favor, really. Like I said, we could all use a break from his grumpy-Gus attitude.”
“At least you aren’t overdramatic about it,” Regina said.
They nodded, and she wasn’t sure if they were faking not understanding her sarcasm or if they truly didn’t get it. He wasn’t as bad as they made out either. Sure, he refused to smile, something she was going to work on, but he was fair and kind, and only a pinch grumpy, on top of being overworked.
“I’ll call him right now.” Fern whipped out her phone and tapped the screen.
“No, don’t!” Regina dove across the table, sending everything on it rattling and overturning the last half of her water, and the two older ladies looked at her like she was the crazy one.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Fern said, and a mix of apprehension and anticipation churned through Regina’s gut. “I’m here with our lovely guest, and she was hoping you could take her clothes shopping in Somerhaven. Like, say, if someone asked her on a date and she needed a fancier outfit.”
Regina dropped her head in her hands as heat crept up her neck. She should get the water cleaned up, but it was quickly soaking into the tablecloth and no one else seemed concerned about it.
“Well, no one’s asked her out just yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. Maybe you’d like to be the first to—” Fern frowned. “It is an emergency. Do you want her to freeze to death in this tiny outfit she’s wearing? She’s going to catch pneumonia inside, much less what’ll happen if she ventures outside.”
And it keeps getting worse and worse. She should’ve asked for Emmett’s number last night. That way she could at least text him and explain that she hadn’t asked Fern to call, and she certainly didn’t expect him to come.
“Oh, the town can take care of itself for an afternoon. Tell your deputy to do something for once.” Pause. “I don’t know about you, but I worry she’ll get into the city and forget how charming we all are—especially if no one will be nice enough to take her shopping, and then we’ll lose her for goo—”
Fern nodded and glanced at Regina. Her glasses made her eyes cartoonishly wide and amped up her scrutiny. “Fine. I’ll let her know.” She hung up and sighed. “I tried, but he says he has to work.”
How stupid was it that disappointment seeped in, in spite of not expecting him to take a day off to go shopping with her? What was he going to do? Sit outside the dressing room and give a thumbs-up or down as she modeled clothes for him like they were in some kind of cheesy movie montage?
Regina kept her expression neutral, faking it in hopes she’d eventually make it. “I’m perfectly capable of shopping for myself, and I’m afraid you ladies are getting the wrong idea about me and Sheriff Haywood.” Honestly, she was afraid her heart was getting the wrong idea too. Hadn’t it learned its lesson?
“I don’t think so,” Fern said. “While he might be too much of a stickler to take time off, you should’ve heard the bark in his voice when he asked who you were going on a date with. More than that, he’s sending his sister to help, so you’ll find enough clothes to keep you warm without falling victim to the allure of the city. All good signs, trust me.”
Fern’s logic was nowhere near the realm of actual logic, and spending time with his sister would just be weird. Part of her thought she should grab her bags and flee this small town before she found herself living in a Twilight Zone episode where everyone was setting her up on forced dates.
It all seemed sudden and unplanned, and … It hit her that she was supposed to be letting go of plans and expectations. And if she was going to sincerely try out the whole throwing-caution-to-the-wind thing, she figured this town with its ridiculously friendly people was as good a place as any.
Emmett hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. Last night he’d been too careless. What was he thinking flirting with Regina? Especially with the whole town watching on.
Now Fern was calling and requesting he take Regina shopping? He was sure that the B&B owner was behind it because he doubted Regina, who talked about how regimented her life was, thought he’d take time off work to shop for women’s clothes. Especially when he had no idea about women’s clothes, besides that Regina seemed to make everything look good.
There he went again, thinking things he shouldn’t. She was just dumped. A person didn’t simply bounce back from that in a matter of days, even if the guy was obviously an idiot to let Regina go.
When Fern had mentioned a date, jealousy had bubbled up, and he’d mentally begun compiling a list of every bachelor in town who might’ve asked her out, along with what dirt he had on them. Not that he’d use it.
Most likely.
Unless he needed to.
He grumbled and leaned back in his chair. As if he hadn’t already been having enough irrational thoughts, Fern had added the remark about how Regina might not come back, and that’d fed a worry he didn’t realize he had. “This is ridiculous.”
The receptionist glanced up from her desk. “What is, boss?”
This town. His strong feelings for a woman he hardly knew. The fact that he suddenly wanted to blockade the roads out of here. He was losing his mind. “Nothing.”
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the pretty woman you were teaching to shoot baskets last night, would it?”
“You too?” he asked. Usually Sarah remained neutral when it came to gossip. While he was sure she knew it all, she kept it away from work.
“All’s I’m saying is that you seemed happier this morning than you have in a long time. And if a certain brunette is responsible, maybe you should let yourself enjoy it.”
“And maybe the mistletoe hung all around town is going to everyone’s head. Did you know the plant’s a parasite that feeds on other plants? Doesn’t seem so romantic now, does it?”
Sarah simply smiled and began to hum a Christmas tune under her breath. With a sigh, Emmett dialed his sister and attempted to prepare himself for yet another woman in his life who’d inevitably tell him he should ask out Regina before he went and lost his chance.
Chapter Six
Regina couldn’t remember the last time she’d read a book in just two days. Most of the time she had far too much to do, but after spending most of her Monday with Callie, she now had a handful of outfits and a couple of paperbacks she’d picked up at the cute bookstore on Main. The nice thing about bookstores
was how universal they were. You could almost always find a great mix of books.
Clothing stores were a bit trickier. Being on the tall side meant her legs and arms were longer than most. Callie’s clothes had barely fit, while still being on the too-short side, and apparently the clothing stores in town didn’t even have pants or sleeves long enough for Callie. Because the outfits also needed to fight off the cold, Callie had concluded the best—and only option, really—would be the sporting goods shop.
Regina was now the reluctantly proud owner of flannel and fishing logo shirts that she normally wouldn’t be caught dead in. At least they were comfy, if not terribly stylish. Perfect for lounging around and reading—she’d even started the last two mornings with a relaxing bath. While a hint of anxious energy still hung in the background, for the most part, it’d been extremely rejuvenating.
The rotary phone on the side table rang, and she eyed it suspiciously. Yesterday her cell phone had started buzzing with a stream of never-ending texts and messages. Everyone from friends and family to her coworkers who were just hearing the news wanted to know why and how and what’d happened after Steve said I don’t. In the mix was a text from Steve, saying he was sorry, and that when she was ready, they needed to talk. A big no thanks to that. She’d sent a text to her parents telling them she was safe and enjoying a getaway of her own, just in case they bothered worrying about her between yachting and dining on Italian cuisine, and then turned off her phone.
The ringing continued, past when voice mail would usually pick up, and Regina considered not answering. It’s probably just Fern being nosy about why I haven’t come out of my room except to grab breakfast to go.
Finally, she lifted the receiver off its cradle, idly thinking she hadn’t handled a phone this old or bulky in years. “Hello?”
“Regina, hey.” Emmett’s voice danced along her nerve endings, sending them into a tizzy, and now she was mad she hadn’t picked up sooner. She’d gone far too long without hearing his voice.