by Cindi Madsen
Whoa. It’s only been two days. Plus a half.
“Regina?”
Oops. She supposed she needed to make her mouth work, which was trickier than expected after two days spent in near silence. “I’m here. Not doing anything illegal, either, in case you were wondering.”
“I’m always wondering,” he said with a soft laugh, and butterflies stirred to life. While she told herself it was too soon to experience the floaty sensation overtaking her, it didn’t stop it from happening, and she wondered if she should simply enjoy knowing that she could actually feel that away again. That her failed nuptials hadn’t killed her ability to experience flutters.
Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time Steve left her with happy tingles. Since thinking about him would be a downer, she focused on the guy on the other end of the line. “Well, I haven’t left my room in hours so, even if I had been getting into trouble, it’s not in your jurisdiction.”
“Wrong. Your room is in my jurisdiction.”
A tendril of heat unfurled in her chest, and he cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was just calling to check in. Callie said you two had fun the other day.”
“We did. We both got the giggles at my limited clothing options, and I’m putting it out there right now that I’m going to look mostly ridiculous for the duration of my stay, although I guess getting frostbite would be more ridiculous, if only slightly so.”
Regina might’ve tried prying out a little more information about Emmett, but Callie wasn’t spilling and instead turned the questions on her, which made her clam up. With overly personal questions off the table, they focused on shopping, and it’d been her most fun shopping trip ever. If Regina were going to be here longer than a couple of weeks, she could see herself becoming good friends with Callie.
“Figured she’d be helpful. That’s why it was better for me to send her.”
“For the record, Fern was the one who asked you to accompany me. I understand that you have a job to do, and you don’t strike me as a guy who really loves clothing shopping.”
“I also figured that. And you’re right about the shopping, although now I’m wondering if that’s a slam on my wardrobe choices.”
Regina laughed and shifted on the bed, tucking a pillow under her stomach and kicking her feet like a twitterpated teenager. “Since I’ve only see you in your uniform, I don’t think I’m qualified to slam your clothes.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’d like to meet me for dinner, and that I’d better be wearing street clothes so you can properly judge.”
More kicking. “I think that’s rather presumptuous on your part.”
“Pick you up in thirty? I don’t have long to eat before I’m required to be at the community center so I can judge the gingerbread house contest.”
“Oh shoot, I forgot about that. I was told I have to be one of the judges because I’ll be neutral, thanks to the fact I don’t know anyone.”
“And I was told I’m a neutral judge because I already judge everyone,” Emmett said, and Regina laughed again. “Regina …?”
“Yeah?”
“You never answered the question about dinner.”
“That’s because you never posed a question.” Regina bit her lip. “But if you had, I might wonder if it’s a bad idea, considering I just got out of a serious relationship and I’m only here temporarily and a dozen other complications.”
“Let me tell you some things that aren’t complicated. We both have to eat to survive, and there are only two places to do that in town, so we might as well have dinner together. Nothing big or serious. Just a meal between two people who are getting to know each other.”
“Well, when you put it that way …”
“I’ll see you in twenty-eight minutes.”
Her smile spread across her face, and while she’d definitely need that time to get ready, she couldn’t help thinking that twenty-eight minutes wasn’t nearly soon enough.
*
“Wow, Sheriff,” Fern said with a knowing grin. “I don’t think I’ve seen you dressed up in months.”
“I’m not dressed up. Technically, I’m dressed down.” Put on a pair of non-holey jeans with a gray Henley instead of your usual uniform, and suddenly everyone thinks you made a huge effort. Not that he hadn’t spent a few extra minutes on gelling his hair and finding his good cologne, and yep, he was getting way too wound up over a woman who’d be leaving town soon.
Then Regina came down the hall, her dark hair in loose curls around her shoulders, the blue shirt she had on accenting her eyes, and he thought it was worth being tangled up in knots if it meant spending more time with her. Maybe even worth the whole town gossiping about it.
“Sheriff,” she said with a nod. Then she tapped a finger to her lips and looked him up and down. “Now that I’m qualified, I have to say that, maybe next time, I should demand you go shopping with me. Clearly you’ve got good taste.”
“Stop, or you’ll make me blush.” He walked a few steps closer. “You hardly look ridiculous, so I’m calling that bluff right now.”
“Are you serious? While these snowmobile pants are fleece-lined and warm, they make a swooshing sound when I walk.” She demonstrated. “As for the shirt, the front’s pretty normal, but then …” She spun around and lifted her hair off her neck, displaying a colorful fish. “At least it’s a pretty fish, but yeah. A fish.” She turned to face him, a mesmerizing curve to her extra-pink lips.
He almost told her she made sporting-goods-chic hot, but that was too bold for two people having a simple dinner, so he stuck with a simple question. “Ready to go?”
She nodded. “I’m starving too.”
Emmett put his hand on her lower back and guided her toward the door. He liked how tall she was—how she lined up so well with him.
“Don’t forget we need you both at the community center for the gingerbread contest,” Fern called after them, and they shared a smile before pushing out the door. The odds of anyone letting them forget about their judicial duties were slim to none.
A quick drive later and they were at Grumpy’s.
When they walked in, several people called out greetings, and Emmett wanted to pull Regina to him and make sure they knew she was here with him, but again, that wasn’t keeping things light. Just two people getting to know one another.
So that the other one could leave.
Maybe she’d been right when she said this was a bad idea. But then she flashed him a killer smile, and just like that, he was back on the hook.
They sat at a cozy table in the corner and ordered the special.
“I don’t want to bring up a bad subject, but in the interest of getting to know each other better …” Regina ran her fingers along the rim of her water glass. “Neither you nor Callie have mentioned your parents. Are they …?”
“In Florida enjoying the warm weather? Yes, yes they are.”
Relief flickered across her features. “I was worried it was some tragic holiday story, and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing …”
“Just the typical story. They like the warmth, and my mom’s parents live down there, so they’re visiting them now. They’ll be back next week so they won’t miss the big holiday party and so they can spend Christmas here. I’m sure you’ll meet them.”
She nodded, the thought of meeting his parents clearly overwhelming even though she was the one who’d brought them up.
“Not officially meet them. Just … small town.”
“Right.” She tore the wrapper that held her napkin around her silverware and smoothed it with the side of her palm. “My parents prefer to travel over the holidays. They almost canceled Italy this year since my wedding was so close, but I told them they might as well go since I’d be on my way to Jamaica.” She shrugged, the gesture too forced to come off as casual, and her fingers trembled a bit. “I’m glad they didn’t or there would’ve been a fancy soiree at their house that I’d be expected to attend, and I’d have
to deal with all those pity-filled looks.”
The mention of her failed nuptials hung over them for a couple of beats. It was always there in the background, and again he wondered what he was doing. But the thought of her returning home to no one rubbed him the wrong way too. He’d rather she be here, where people would smother her with affection whether she wanted it or not.
“Thanks for not pitying me,” she said. “Or doing a good job of hiding it anyway.”
“I don’t pity you. I pity him. That idiot walked away from what I’d bet is the best thing that ever happened to him.” A bold statement, but he meant it. Maybe his simple life here wouldn’t satisfy her for long, but she was kind and funny and sharp-witted, on top of being beautiful, and you didn’t run across those traits every day.
She covered his hand with hers. “Thank you for saying that. I’m sure I did a lot of things wrong, and I tend to get lost in the details, but I never thought I’d get so lost in them that I failed to see things had fallen apart. Maybe my perfectionist side just refused to let that happen. And admittedly, I’m not always this fun.” She leaned closer. “Another confession? While I thoroughly enjoyed my relaxing days of reading, my antsy side was kicking in, and I was relieved when Fern demanded I be a judge because it gave me a purpose.”
“Relief definitely isn’t what I felt when they asked, but I think it’s good to have a purpose. And you are fun.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly a barrel of monkeys. I mean, the other night with you after the tree lighting was super fun, but I’m guessing that’s not your usual either.”
“I’m not sure how to take that. What’s the wrong way and what’s the right way?”
She shrugged. “I guess I want to be a perfectionist, even when it’s deciding to have fun.”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
“Exactly. I can’t even have fun having fun. It’s too stressful.”
The waitress came and delivered their food.
Since Regina still looked perplexed over her inability to have fun—which was silly—Emmett turned his hand over, locking their palms together. “Are you having a good time now?”
Her eyes met his, and she swallowed and then nodded.
“Good. Then let’s not worry about later fun.” Maybe he had been on the grumpy side recently, but he was slowly coming out of it, and the woman across from him was at least partially responsible. “Let’s focus on the now.”
“Just live in the snow globe world until time’s up?”
A pang went through his chest at the phrase time’s up, but that was silly. It was way too soon for that. “Why not?”
“Well, I like that it’s a perfectly defined plan.”
He shook his head but couldn’t help smiling.
“Still no teeth,” she said, propping her chin on her fist. “I’ll get that full smile out of you yet, Sheriff Haywood.”
An electric current traveled across his skin. He probably shouldn’t like her calling him that so much, but it didn’t change the fact that he really did.
Chapter Seven
Regina studied Emmett as he bent over the sheets of gingerbread, bag of icing in hand, tongue out in concentration. Evidently, judging the competition wasn’t enough. They had extra supplies they’d ‘brought for the kiddos,’ and Fern, who was running the event, told them they might as well make a house instead of ‘standing around like bums’.
So they were making a house.
Icing dripped out the back of the bag, and Regina couldn’t help it. She stepped forward and placed her hand over his. “You’ve got to squeeze from the end. I know it’s not fun and carefree, but icing is spilling all over the floor.”
Emmett glanced from her to the bag and then to her again. He swiped a glob of icing onto his finger and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm. See, I do it this way because then I have no choice but to clean up the mess with my tongue.”
“That would be nice, except now I’m not going to have any icing left for the decorations I’ve carefully divvied out, and how can we be judges if we can’t even complete a house of our own?”
Emmett raised an eyebrow and swiped another finger through the icing. But instead of licking it off himself, he extended it toward her. “Go on. You know you want a taste.”
Her pulse spiked. They were going to get in trouble, first for eating all their icing and second for causing a scene in the middle of the community center. Still, she stepped closer to him and took a taste.
His pupils dilated, and the temperature in the room shot up about a billion degrees—those houses would be melted here pretty quick.
“Only fifty minutes left,” Fern said, and they jumped apart. She glanced between them, far too smug.
Regina cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m a really good multitasker,” she said without thinking how exactly that sounded.
Emmett snort-laughed behind her, and she elbowed him in the gut, satisfaction going through her at the sound of his grunt. Fern strode off, and Regina longingly studied their candy. “I hope that I can eat one of those Twizzlers after our house has been on display for a while.”
“Or you could just eat one now, like I’m going to do with my favorite Christmas candy.” Emmett grabbed a gumdrop and tossed it in his mouth.
“Yuck! Gumdrops are the worst, and you ate a green one at that.”
He reached out, snagged another, and placed it on his tongue.
She bumped him away from the candy so they’d have some left to decorate with. Much more of his snacking, and they wouldn’t be able to make the trees in the front, unless they decided to make pink or red ones, but those colors were needed for the windows. “You make icing glue spots; I’ll place.”
Emmett saluted.
“Smart aleck. I’m taking that as your total obsequiousness.”
They circled the gingerbread house, and while Emmett had made a mess of the icing bag and floor, his foundation and seam work was solid. They made a good, efficient team, which was fun for her. Take that, Steve.
Emmett reached for another gumdrop, and she playfully smacked his hand.
“Just wait and see if we have any left.” They wouldn’t with the schematics she’d mentally drawn up, but she’d wait to drop that gummy bomb.
Emmett circled an arm around her waist, anchoring her to his chest and then reached around her, grabbed a pink gumdrop, and ate it.
“Now the top floor won’t have all its windows!”
“Better even it out then,” he said, stealing another as she attempted to wiggle free and block him from putting that one in his mouth.
She failed.
“My mom puts gumdrops in her fruitcake,” he said. “This is making me crave a piece.”
“I repeat my earlier ‘yuck.’ I’ve never seen anyone actually eat fruitcake. I have this theory that only a hundred or so have ever been made, and every Christmas, people just re-gift the loaves they received the year before.”
“Not true. I’ve eaten a lot in my day.” He took a handful of M&M’s out of the bowl, and she kicked up her efforts to break free.
“Emmett Haywood, don’t you dare eat my roof tiles.”
“I’m not going to. You are.” He brought them in front of her face. “I’ve decided that I’m in charge of you having fun tonight. Open your mouth.”
On principle, she thought about fighting him, but they smelled amazing, and she loved M&M’s. For the first time pretty much ever, she complied. So much for him being her subordinate.
Regina couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. No sugar for two months could do that to you. “They’re even better than I remembered.” She snagged another, and then she realized she’d relaxed into Emmett’s embrace. She glanced around, but everyone seemed to be super focused on putting the finishing touches on their houses.
She studied theirs. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most impressive, and she should really stop eating the candy tiles so they’d have enough for the finishing touches, but at t
he same time, she couldn’t bring herself to care. What made it perfect wasn’t how it looked, but how much fun she’d had, and that she was now cuddling with a not-so-grumpy-anymore sheriff.
The loud bing of the timer made her jump, and then Fern used her over-the-top megaphone to demand that everyone put down their supplies and step away from their tables.
Regina quickly snagged a couple of Twizzlers.
“You rebel,” Emmett whispered in her ear.
“I grabbed one for you too.”
“What I meant to say was, you beautiful evil genius.”
She laughed as she spun in his arms, and her breath caught at the way he looked down at her. Time froze while her heart rate sped up. His throat worked a swallow as his hand splayed across her lower back and drew her even closer.
“… to the tables.”
Vaguely, she realized someone had not only neared but was talking to them.
“Judges,” Fern said, louder this time, “if you’ll follow me to the tables.”
“Is it just the two of us?” Regina asked when Fern extended two clipboards.
“Along with me. Judges are best in threes to help with tiebreakers, plus I have the most experience with baking.”
They rounded the zoned-off competition tables that held the numbered houses. There were three categories, each item earning a rating on a scale of one to ten: overall look, originality, and difficulty.
Regina leaned closer to Emmett. “Well, they all look way better than ours, so I’m going to say everyone gets a ten on the difficulty level.”
Fern glared at them. “No discussing scores!”
“Uh-oh.” Regina grimaced. “Next, she’s going to ask you to arrest me.”
Emmett brushed by her, pausing to whisper, “It’d help you achieve your goal of getting arrested by Christmas. Really, I’d be helping you both out.”
She stifled a giggle as they continued down the row. When they reached the last house, she gasped—then she felt like a nerd for gasping, but still. Spree candy tiles made up the icicle-draped roof, and Santa and his chocolate reindeer had parked on the lawn. “Wow, I didn’t realize Peeta lived in your town.”