But there was one marked difference between the two. Ryan was doing a job for the community, a job he seemed to genuinely enjoy. Zoey never got the sense that he liked being the center of attention and fed off the allure. More like he accepted it because he cared so much about the community. Family. His hometown.
Because that’s what you did for the people you loved. Anything.
* * *
After Ryan finished the morning roll call with his deputies on Wednesday morning, he made it back to his desk to find a copy of the Dispatch lying front and center. It was open to the middle section with a photo of him and Zoey at the pet wash holding the giant check.
At least the photo didn’t display the perky breasts that had been straining against the wet T-shirt. Good thing the photographer, an older man who probably thought of Zoey as he would his own daughter, had noticed. Ryan had not until that moment, but he’d be lying to say he didn’t appreciate getting the heads-up. Missing that would have been criminal even if it had fueled more highly inappropriate fantasies on his part.
What he hadn’t noticed until now was the smile on Zoey’s face as she looked up at him. It wasn’t what he’d expected, since a moment before that she’d had a stunned look in her dark eyes when she’d glanced down at her shirt. She’d been embarrassed. Humiliated. A little irritated with him for teasing her, which was fair.
His cell phone rang and he picked it up without looking at the caller ID, in full sheriff mode. “Davis.”
“Hello, handsome,” a syrupy sweet voice on the other end of the phone said.
Lauren. That sweet syrup was the outside covering for steel and he damned well knew it. She didn’t have a kind bone in her body.
“Hey, what is it? I’m busy here.”
He didn’t like talking to Lauren, but he hadn’t closed down all communication with her, in case he ever wanted to come back to Oakland looking for a job. Best not to burn a bridge. She had pull and contacts and wouldn’t hesitate to use them. His job was to make sure he’d never need them.
“I need your advice on a case I’m trying.”
At least this was new. She hadn’t called him about work-related stuff for some time and she’d never asked for advice when it came to her cases. “Go ahead. How can I help?”
“I have the authority to offer my perp a plea. It’s incredibly generous and I’m sure they’ll take it. But I don’t know if I should do it. Maybe just take my chances in court, you know?”
Lauren loved to fight and she absolutely hated losing. He sensed a trap. “Hard evidence?”
“Circumstantial.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He’s a bad guy. Just because I don’t have enough to convict him doesn’t mean he’s innocent.”
And it also doesn’t mean he is guilty of this particular crime.
“Why are you bothering me with this? You never wanted to tarnish your perfect conviction record. This could do that. So why not the plea?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m trying to do the right thing. I want justice for the victims. It’s not all about winning, you know.”
“It almost sounds like you’d been listening to me.” He snorted.
“What can I say? You were right. I get it now. Any chance you’ll come back to Oakland and help fight real crime?”
“Why? You think we have fake crime here?”
“Property line disputes and DUIs?”
“Try arson.”
“Hmm. That is at least a little challenge. Then again you’re not the one doing the investigating, are you? I’m sure by now you’re getting bored with all the meetings and media stuff.”
“I’m good, thanks for asking.”
He got the idea that she didn’t care about his state of mind as much as she was simply curious. Fishing. When he’d decided to run for Sheriff, she hadn’t wanted to relocate to the small town of Fortune. Not so that he could run. Not for any reason. She’d found the thought of commuting to Oakland equally horrific, not that he blamed her for thinking that way.
But the point was, if he’d been in love, no one would have been able to talk him into coming back to Fortune without her. If she’d been in love, she would have followed him here or they’d have worked something out.
She gave a long sigh. “You think I don’t care but you’re wrong. Was I wrong not to give up my career for you? I love you, Ryan, but you wouldn’t have done that for me. Admit it.”
He didn’t miss the fact she wasn’t speaking about her feelings in the past tense. A sense of unease settled in his bones. They were more than done and he didn’t get the need to rehash the past yet again. Lauren’s idea of love had come with conditions. That wasn’t love. It was control.
To fill the silence, he cleared his throat. “Need anything else?”
“I wondered if you’re ready to come back yet.”
“Come back.”
“Back to Oakland where you can make a real difference.”
“I’m not coming back, Lauren.” He didn’t add that if he ever did, it wouldn’t be for her or because of her.
“Don’t be a dick. Think about it. You know you could never be happy in such a small town where everyone knows about the medal.”
The medal. He’d never talked to her about that, but at some point it had become obvious that she knew. After all, he’d had a thorough background check before coming on board with the Oakland PD. She’d made an incendiary comment about how they awarded medals for anything these days, and he’d realized she’d known all along.
“Got to go.”
He disconnected with Lauren, swallowed some nasty coffee—neither he nor Renata had yet figured out how to use the new coffee maker—and took another look at the photo. It had been taken at the exact moment Zoey looked up at him. While he smiled dutifully for the camera, she smiled up at him. She’d been wearing the tee, denim shorts and pink rubber boots with kittens all over them. Her hair in a simple ponytail. Still breathtaking.
But it was the expression on her face that struck him. If not for the picture frozen in time, he might have missed it. The camera had captured Zoey gazing at him with a desire that he hadn’t noticed until now. He shook his head to clear it. Work was doing a number on him.
Later that evening, after work, Ryan and Aidan had a rousing pickup game of basketball at the Boys and Girls Club. They were tied forty-five to forty-five when Ethan dunked the ball and ended the game with a win for his side. At six-five and only fifteen, dunking was not difficult. He towered over the rest of the boys—hell, he had a few inches on Ryan. Despite his popularity on the court, he didn’t play on the school team. He kept to himself and didn’t have many friends. The Boys and Girls Club, according to his grandmother, was his only social outlet.
As planned, Ryan and Aidan gathered the kids together before dismissing them.
“Any of you hear about the dumpster fire?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah,” one of the boys said. “My mom was getting her hair done when the fire truck came.”
“That’s not the first fire we’ve had around here in the past few weeks,” Aidan continued.
“Since most of you are from Fortune, you know that we’re about to go into our wildfire season. The hills have been brown—” Ryan said.
“Golden,” a smartass in the back said, referring to the positive way some liked to refer to their arid hills.
Ryan continued. “If you see something, say something. We’re all a part of this community and we need to watch each other’s backs.”
“That’s right,” Aidan said. “Any one of you need me or Sheriff Davis, you know where to find us.”
A small talk about fire safety followed, a reminder of the dangers of a single flame. Ryan noticed several bored looks while some schooled their expressions into at least the appearance of interest. Before they all disbanded, and as Ai
dan was gathering the balls, Ryan pulled Ethan aside.
They hadn’t talked since the previous week when he’d been scheduled to go for a visit with his father. The kid hadn’t been thrilled to give up a weekend for a man his mother called the “sperm donor.” Ryan knew the family. His stepfather was a city council member Ryan dealt with occasionally and his mother worked at the local bank. Still, it seemed to be his grandmother the kid was closest with.
“Hey,” Ryan called out.
Ethan turned, his eyes registering the usual boredom. It was as if he’d already checked out. Even when dunking he didn’t celebrate nearly as much as his teammates did. Simply to be on Ethan’s team meant having a post up player at every game and an almost certain win. This never seemed to matter to him.
He stopped his lumbering slow walk, which always looked as if it took every ounce of energy he possessed to move at all.
“How was last weekend?”
He lifted a shoulder, the equivalent of meh.
Give me something, kid. Anything at all. Let me know you’re in there.
But difficult though it was to believe, Ethan had the same thousand yard stare Ryan had seen in the returning soldiers he’d mentored after his return stateside. Same vacant look. Unnerving.
“Everything okay at home?”
He nodded.
By now Ryan had grown accustomed to the fact that most people, let alone teenagers, would not confide in a law enforcement officer. No matter what. Whether it was fear of the reaction or fear of the outcome he had no idea. But it was frustrating when all he wanted to do was help. Communicate. Build bridges.
But he couldn’t help feeling that he wasn’t making any headway at all.
Chapter 9
Zoey got to work earlier than planned on Wednesday, after having paid for and cleared out all copies of the Dispatch from the stand in the Candy Lane strip mall. Because, yes, she’d heard about the embarrassing photo. Had received a call from Jill that morning, and another one from Carly. Carly remarked on the adoring look in Zoey’s eyes and asked whether she was back to crushing on Ryan again. Because she and Ryan looked adorable together. How sweet. Even Tia called to tell her she’d taken such a great photo and that she looked more like her mami every day.
“Is there a reason you need all those copies?” Fred asked from behind her. Though he’d framed it like a question, it sounded more like an accusation.
“Yes.” She tilted her chin and handed Fred a copy. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He scowled back at her.
The storefront bell jingled as she entered her shop, balancing approximately thirty copies of the Dispatch, give or take. Hannah, her part-time worker, greeted her with a smile.
“I know you, so I already got a copy. Too late.”
“There’s at least thirty people that won’t get one.”
Zoey went behind the register where she dumped the newspapers with her backpack. But as she turned to the register, she saw a copy of the Dispatch sat opened to the page with the photo of her and Ryan. Hannah had drawn a heart near Ryan. It was worse than Zoey had imagined. In the photo, she stared up at Ryan, smiling, a dreamy expression on her face. She couldn’t have been more obvious about her intense affection for and attraction to him. He, of course, was oblivious as he smiled easily into the camera.
“Oh, god.” Zoey face-planted on the counter.
“I think we should frame it,” Hannah sighed. “He’s so freaking dreamy. I have a thing for older men.”
“He’s not that old.”
“No, I know. If he was a dad, he’d totally be a DILF.”
“Tell me the truth. Am I that obvious in this photo or is it just me?”
“Oh, you’re obvious alright.”
Oh, man. Ryan would see this photo and might realize her feelings ran much deeper than the friendship he’d offered. The jury was out on whether there would be more metaphorical head patting, or whether he’d simply avoid her. But he couldn’t avoid her. They were going to a party together.
This was all so terrible.
“Do you think everyone will know?”
Hannah picked up the paper again and inspected it. “I don’t think everyone will know. Had it been me in that photo, I would have been more obvious. Do you see here, how his body is kind of turned in to yours? Yours is also angled naturally toward him. It’s just the angle of your face that’s the problem. And the head tilt. And the dreamy smile.”
“He caught me at a bad time. A minute before I’d looked directly at the photographer. But of course he wouldn’t take that shot!”
“I don’t know what you’re upset about. You look really cute together.”
And that was part of the problem. The picture spoke to her, teasing her heart and other tender pink spots. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the way he stood next to her was...protective. Dared she even think it? Caring. The only words that came to mind. In some unknown way to her, they fit. The two of them seemed right somehow.
Maybe now that this photo had spoken for her, she should just roll with it. Take a chance. Whatever happened, it couldn’t be worse than this public display of her affection for him. It felt like a very private moment had been broadcast for the entire town to ogle.
“Any luck finding Boo?” Hannah wisely changed the subject.
Not to a much better one.
“No. We’ve tried everything. All we have left is to hope that the person who took him has regrets and takes him to the shelter where the chip will be read.”
“Or maybe he’ll get out on his own, make a break for it.”
That sounded like another dog. Boo was easy and content to lie around all day. But she could hope. “Yeah, maybe.”
The phone rang and Zoey picked it up, grateful for an opportunity to stop mooning over Ryan. “Pimp Your Pet, how can I help you?”
“Hola, querida,” Tia said. “I have good news. Tio found you a date. The man checks out and everything. Works at the post office. Very good man.”
“I’m sure he is, but I already have a date.”
“Raul! She already has a date!” Tia gushed.
“Don’t make it sound like I never have a date.” She wasn’t pathetic. She had dates now and again, just not any great ones.
“What man? I haven’t spoken to him, have I?” Though he was not on the line, Tio’s thundering voice could be heard through the phone.
Zoey took a breath. They’d forgotten she was twenty-six years old and not sixteen. “Tell Tio he already knows him. It’s Ryan. The sheriff. Surely he checks out?”
“Oh, the sheriff! Ay, muy guapo. Raul, it’s the sheriff she’s bringing! Mr. Davis.”
“Ryan,” Zoey corrected.
“He’s a very good man.” For the love of dogs, Tio sounded as though he were on a megaphone over there. “I approve.”
What? Without the inquisition? Zoey did the eye roll thing in Hannah’s direction. “I’m so glad.”
It was just one date. It wasn’t like he needed to be cleared with Homeland Security—though, come to think of it, he probably had been.
“Don’t get too excited about this. He’s just my friend.”
“Who said I’m excited?” Tia said. “Let’s go shopping for a dress!”
“I have to wear a dress?” Zoey squeaked out.
“Mija, we’ve been married forty years. If that’s not a special occasion, I don’t know what is. What do you think?”
She would need a damn dress.
* * *
It took three stores and five dresses for Tia to locate a dress she liked for herself. Despite what she’d said about not being the “attractive one,” Tia chose carefully and finally found a dress that met with her approval. The dress was wine-colored taffeta with a sweetheart collar and fell just below her knees. Zoey thought Tia looked beautiful and classy. T
hat look was difficult to achieve in her opinion, but Tia nailed it every time.
Zoey found her own dress immediately, but Tia made her wait because “there might be something better” and they’d just circle back if they didn’t find it. After the second store and the second “right dress,” Zoey wised up. Clearly, she couldn’t find her dress until Tia had found hers.
Coincidentally, she found another perfect dress immediately after Tia found hers. It was summery, a simple A-line, and hit just above the knee, which Tia insisted was completely appropriate for a “young lady.”
Zoey liked that it was blue.
“The sheriff will have the best date at the party,” Tia said. “You look beautiful in that modest dress. It shows off your figure.”
“You think so?” Zoey turned in a circle.
Maybe she’d wear her hair down for the party. Style it, if she could manage to the way Susie at The Hair-Em did. Zoey always looked ten times better on the day of a haircut.
“Do you like him? I know he’s Jill’s brother, but he’d also a single man.” Tia waggled her eyebrows.
“I like him, but I don’t think he’ll ever see me that way.”
“You never know until you try.”
The night of the party, Zoey paced her living room. She’d found another sitter for her dogs, this time her next door neighbor Mrs. Martinez. She had a strange cat named Bonkers who, oddly, thought he was a dog, too. Therefore, he wasn’t at all scared of Zoey’s dogs and had some kind of weird crush on Corky. This would be good for the small pig because he was still missing Boo.
Ryan was due any minute, and Zoey suddenly wondered if the dress said more than she wanted it to say. Did the fact that the hem was just above the knee mean anything? What about blue? Was this a talkative dress, or would it just allow her to have a nice time tonight?
Tia’s words repeated themselves over and over in Zoey’s mind. How many times had she told a prospective owner that a cat really was their perfect pet match?
She usually got plenty of arguments: I don’t like cats; they’re mean; they’re too independent.
Home for a Hero Page 7