by Jo McNally
“Uh...yes. To both.” Her brows lowered in confusion. “Yes, I’d have to kill you. And yes, I can drop you.”
The corner of her mouth tipped up. “Right.”
She started toward the door, but Dan stopped her. “Mack...this interruption might be a good thing. That was a little...crazy and...”
“Frantic? Dangerous? Fun?”
He pulled her in for a quick kiss. “All of that. It’s been one hell of a day.”
“I don’t have any regrets. Do you?”
He looked her straight in the eye.
“Only that my phone rang when it did.”
She patted his arm.
“Yeah, that was a mood killer.” She opened the door, looking back over her shoulder with a bright smile. “But there’s no reason we can’t try again some other time.”
* * *
“Wait, this is sauvignon blanc?” Nora raised her glass. “I don’t like sauv blanc. But I like this.”
Mack’s role was more hostess than expert tonight, on the trial run of ladies’ night at Wallace Liquors. She turned to Marie DuCoq, the sales rep from one of the wine distribution companies Dad worked with. Marie held up the bottle she’d been pouring from.
“Oh, yes, this is a lovely wine. The citrus notes are pronounced, but not as harsh as some lesser sauv blancs can be.” She looked at the puzzled expressions on the women’s faces around the tables and cleared her throat. “It’s dry without being bitter.” Heads nodded at the simplified explanation.
Mack felt a small pulse of panic. There was no shame in her friends not being wine experts. But she was going to have to learn a whole lot more than she knew now if she was really going to take over the family business. Marie was pouring a “buttery chardonnay with a soft mouthfeel and a hint of melon and baking spices.”
Shelly caught Mack’s eye and mouthed, “What?”
She gave a thin smile in response. She’d asked Shelly and Kiara to join them for a layperson’s opinion, since the Lowery cousins were business owners and looking at this as a new event to promote the town. Her two friends admitted they didn’t know much about wine, which made them perfect guinea pigs. Mack tried to pay attention to Marie’s descriptions, but she could tell Kiara was doing her best not to giggle at the over-the-top phrasing. This was supposed to be fun, not feel like a college lecture. She wanted people to buy wine, not be intimidated by it.
Amanda Randall leaned over from the next table, her voice low. “I’ll introduce you to our sommelier at the resort. He’s a laid-back California surfer dude who grew up on a vineyard. He has a degree, of course, but Gavin can help make this a lot less...” Amanda glanced toward Marie and lowered her voice. “...stuffy.”
Mack’s shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t just her, then. She nodded in thanks as Marie moved on to the reds, pouring a pinot noir. Mack jumped up to replace the cheese platters on the tables with plates of fruit and chocolate. Mel Brannigan was the only one not drinking. Even if she hadn’t been pregnant, she’d explained to Mack last week that she’d had a problem with substance abuse when she was a young fashion model and had been in a twelve-step program for years. Mack told her she didn’t have to attend, but Mel said it wouldn’t be an issue. She was sipping a “very fine vintage” of peach-pear sparkling water from a champagne glass.
It was nice to have these women here to support her, laughing with her behind Marie’s pompous back. She thought she’d had friends in Greenwich, but they’d dropped her like a hot rock after the night she exposed her husband’s bad behavior. The divorce made her the odd one out at events. She was no longer part of a couple, and she’d been tainted by scandal, so invitations dried up overnight. Mason’s father and grandfather had been members of the Glenfadden Country Club, so the members naturally gravitated to him, at the expense of all contact with her. It hurt. A lot.
Who’d have guessed that she’d come back to Gallant Lake and...like it? That she’d go for a motorcycle ride with Danger Dan Adams? That he’d kiss her? That they’d come so very close to having sex on his Victorian staircase?
Marie took the ladies through three more wines, finishing with a white port. Mack thanked her and rang up the purchases she’d told everyone they didn’t need to make.
Nora was the last to leave. Asher’s Jeep was parked out front, and he was leaning against it, scrolling through his phone as he waited. He was tall and rugged, with a dark beard that was just touched by gray. Amanda’s husband, Blake, had picked her and Mel up a few minutes earlier. The men didn’t want their women to drive after the wine tasting. It was something she’d have to consider once she opened these events to the public. Limiting the number of wines and the amounts being poured. Maybe offering a discount to designated drivers if they agreed to drink sparkling water the way Mel had.
“Tonight was great,” Nora was saying. “Something like this could really help increase evening foot traffic downtown. Maybe some of the other businesses would be tempted to stay open if they knew the sidewalks wouldn’t roll up at six o’clock.” Nora tipped her head. “Are you really taking over the store? Cathy said...”
Mack tensed. She still hadn’t worked out her feelings about Dad and Cathy yet. “Did you know they were together? Dad and Cathy? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Nora’s cheeks went pink. “I honestly didn’t know it was a secret. I figured you knew until Cathy warned me that your dad never told you. For what it’s worth, they seem good for each other. Your dad anchors Cathy’s flightiness, and she’s made him a little less...reserved.”
Mack sighed. That made sense, actually. “It was a shock, that’s all. Not that I have anything against Cathy—I’ve known her my whole life. But that Dad wouldn’t tell me... I don’t know, maybe I can’t blame him. There was a time when I’d have been horrified at the thought of my father shacking up with a woman as out there as Cathy can be. I still remember when she was growing pot in her loft. She’s lucky Dan never caught her.”
Nora laughed. “There’s not much that goes on in this town that Dan doesn’t know about. He told Cathy back then that if she started selling the stuff, he’d arrest her in a heartbeat. If not, he’d pretend they were tomato plants as long as she didn’t get carried away.”
“Good Guy Sheriff Dan ignored a marijuana operation in the center of town?”
“Dan knew Cathy only started growing that stuff after a friend of hers got cancer. That was before medical marijuana became legal. I’m not saying she didn’t enjoy a little recreationally, but from what I heard, most of it went to people who needed it and didn’t have the money or the nerve to get it on their own. Dan’s always been a compassionate guy. He could have arrested Asher years ago for being reckless, but he knew Asher was in a bad place. Dan drove him home and checked up on him every night for over a year. That’s how they became friends.”
As if he’d heard his name, Asher walked inside. “You about ready, babe? Or are you two gonna have a sleepover and do girl talk all night?”
Nora smiled and stepped into his embrace. “I was just telling Mack about how you and Dan became friends. How he isn’t always Dudley Do-Right.”
Asher nodded. “I kinda miss those nights when he’d stop by my place and have a drink after his shift. We had some good talks.” He kissed the top of Nora’s head. “Not that I’d trade it for what I have now, but I think it was as good for Dan as it was for me. It was a pressure valve for him, where he could shed whatever he’d seen on shift before he went home.” Asher gave Mack a pointed look. “I heard he put his bike back on the road this week. He hasn’t ridden that thing in years. Wonder what brought that on?”
She didn’t answer. Judging from the speculation in Asher’s eyes, she didn’t have to.
After Nora and Asher left, she finished cleaning up and locked the doors. She’d just gotten upstairs and was giving Rory a late-night snack when her phone chirped with a text from Dan.
&n
bsp; How’d it go?
She knew he was still on shift, but it made her heart jump to know he was thinking of her.
The wine lady was a snob.
She hit Send, then followed it up.
I thought you might stop by.
The bubbles floated on her screen.
In uniform? That would put a damper on the party.
She thought about what Asher had said about Dan needing to decompress after his job.
Stop by for a drink after shift? Still got that Macallan open.
There was a long pause before she saw he was typing again.
I’m sitting surveillance after shift on that other thing. Tomorrow?
She smiled.
Sure. Be safe.
Always.
Chapter Eleven
Dan was only five minutes late to Five and Design Saturday afternoon. Considering he was on shift, that wasn’t bad. He could have been on the other side of the county, but he’d lucked out. He parked the patrol car in front of the boutique and called in that he was grabbing lunch in Gallant Lake. Only a slight fabrication, since he’d picked up a sandwich to go at the Chalet before dashing over to watch Chloe try on party dresses for her big modeling gig at the upcoming charity event.
“Daddy! Look at all these dresses!” His daughter ran to give him a quick hug, then pointed to the rack full of purple glitter and lace. Dan looked at Susanne and tried not to sound too much like an old grump.
“Those are a little grown-up for an eight-year-old, don’t you think?”
He must have failed at the not-an-old-grump thing, because his ex-wife narrowed her eyes at him as Chloe ran back to the dress rack.
“They’re party dresses, Dan. Little girls like to dress up. Just because it has sequins doesn’t mean it’s risqué.”
Mel Brannigan walked into the shop from a back room. “Risqué? Relax, Dad. You know I’d never do that.” She smiled at Chloe and pulled two sparkly, princessy dresses off the rack. “Let’s try these first, okay?”
Chloe clapped her hands. Maybe Dan was being a fuddy-duddy. After all, Chloe was happy, and the whole thing was for charity. He was able to stay long enough to see Chloe twirl around in three purple dresses before he had to get back to work. Susanne gave him another dose of stink eye, as if she didn’t know what he did for a living or what his hours were. He’d told Mack his marriage ended because of crossed hours and growing apart, but really his job had killed it. And Susanne’s fears over it.
He was tempted to stop by the liquor store to see if Mack was there, but he’d been out of his vehicle long enough. Time to get back to work. Besides, he’d said yes to sharing a Macallan with her later tonight, so he had that to look forward to.
But by the end of the shift, he wasn’t sure that was such a great idea. It had been a miserable Saturday night. An overdose on a country road, which he’d luckily been able to reverse with Narcan. But the screams of the woman’s three young children in the back seat, thinking their mommy had died, would haunt him for a long time. Then there was a break-in at the hair salon. No one was there by the time he arrived, but they’d clearly been looking for cash. When they didn’t find any, they’d crowbarred the cash register right off the counter and took off with it. That’s when someone spotted them running out the shattered front door and called it in.
Martie Williams had owned the salon for thirty years. She’d been adamant that she didn’t need an alarm system. And she’d told Dan he was crazy if he thought she was going to leave any of her hard-earned money around “as bait.” She’d refused to listen when he’d explained that if thieves found easy cash they were less likely to destroy property. Now the old-fashioned cash register her late husband had bought for the shop decades ago was gone. And Dan had gotten an earful from Martie about it—if he hadn’t let these drugs into town it wouldn’t have happened, blah, blah, blah. Sometimes this job made him tired.
That call had been followed up with a domestic disturbance in the upscale Walnut Point neighborhood along the lake. The complaint was for noise. Mr. and Mrs. Quenton had enjoyed a few too many martinis and started a screaming match that escalated to bottle throwing. In their living room. It was the first time he’d ever been called there, so Dan got them both calmed down and made them a pot of coffee. By the time he left, they were sheepishly picking up their mess and apologizing to him and each other.
He was glad it had ended well, but every domestic call took a toll. They were fraught with the unexpected and were among the most dangerous calls an officer could respond to. He’d seen more than his share that had ended in injuries, jail time, restraining orders and, twice in his eighteen-year career...death.
And the night still wasn’t done with him. He ended the shift with a vehicular call that put him on the scene of a fatal accident in the next town over. He suspected drag racing was involved, judging from the twin burn marks on the remote country road. But there was only one vehicle when first responders arrived. And it was wrapped around a tree, with a dead teenager in the front seat. A family would be forever changed because of a moment’s decision to race a one-ton vehicle with nearly bald tires. It looked so easy in the movies, right?
It was after midnight by the time Dan got back to Gallant Lake. He stopped home long enough to shower and change, then drove his truck to the parking lot behind the liquor store. And that’s when his momentum slowed and the shift caught up with him. He was both exhausted and wired. Not a good combination for socializing. He texted Mack.
Rough night. Rain check?
Her response was swift.
Get out of the truck and come upstairs.
He looked up and there she was, standing on the metal fire escape behind the apartment. She was leaning on the railing, looking straight at his car, bathed in the light from the open door behind her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, nearly white against the darkness of the night. She looked like...
Dan gave his head a shake, but that didn’t change the illogical truth. She looked like exactly what he needed right now.
She waited for him, studying his face silently as he walked up to her. Then she opened her arms, and he didn’t hesitate to walk into the embrace. Her arms were firm and tight around him, like she wanted to hold him up. And she almost was. He dropped his head on hers with a deep sigh, and they stood there for a beat. No words. No need for them. He could feel her trying to infuse him with comfort, and damn if it wasn’t working. He felt better already. But the night’s darkness wouldn’t be chased off that easily.
“Come inside,” she whispered.
He nodded against her. “Yes.”
* * *
Mack could see the tension pulsing under Dan’s skin. She didn’t know why or what happened, but she had a hunch that “rough night” was probably an understatement. They sat at the kitchen table, where two glasses of scotch waited. Dan drained his before Mack could even start hers. Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t say a word as she refilled his glass.
Dan drank this one more slowly, holding the amber liquid in his mouth and closing his eyes before swallowing. He let out a long sigh, then opened his eyes and started to cough and sputter.
“What the hell is that?” He pointed to where Rory was stretched out on the back of the sofa, easily occupying three feet of space with his legs extended the way they were.
“That is Rory. He’s a Maine coon cat. Remember I told you I won him in the divorce?”
The cat lifted his head and gave Dan a bored look before dropping back to the sofa.
“I was about to call animal control and tell them a mountain lion had invaded Gallant Lake.”
Mack chuckled. “I named him Rory because he looks like a big old lion. He’s harmless as long as you don’t scratch his belly. Do that and you’ll see more bloodshed than you can imagine...” She looked at Dan. “Well, probably not more than you can imagine. Sorry.”
He went still. She reached out and covered his hand with hers.
“It really was a rough night, huh?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. And trust me, you don’t want to hear about it.”
“You’re not injured or anything?”
He gave a sharp shake of his head and took another sip of whiskey.
“Just a long night, Mack. Let it go.”
That was hard to do, when it was lurking in the room like a heavy shadow. She had a dozen questions. But she stayed quiet.
Dan’s tension eased a bit as the minutes ticked by and the whiskey did its trick. Mack shifted in her chair, and the corner of Dan’s mouth lifted.
“It’s killin’ you, isn’t it? Waiting me out.”
“A little bit, yeah.” She nodded.
“I’m trained in interrogation.” He turned his hand to twine his fingers with hers. “You won’t be able to outwait me. I will never feel the urge to fill the silence with the answers to your unspoken questions. But honestly?” She looked at him in curiosity, and his smile deepened. “It’s nice to sit here with you. I feel better already.”
“I’m glad.” She squeezed his hand. “Anything else I can do to help?”
“Yeah. You can kiss me.”
She was more than happy to oblige. She leaned toward him, and he met her halfway, just as eager for it as she was. And no wonder. Their kisses were like wildfire fueled with kerosene and sprinkled with gunpowder. Hot. The chairs scraped loudly across the tile floor as they both stood, eager to be closer as the kiss grew deeper. Hotter. His hands were under her shirt, sliding across her skin. Her fingers were in his hair, pulling him closer, even though their teeth were already clicking together as the kiss went out of control and their heads turned for better access. Even hotter. He pulled his mouth away long enough to say one word.