Barbecue and Bad News (22 page)

“That was awesome!” Savannah squealed.

“You like that, huh?”

“Love it!”

“You might like this too.” He slowed down and then took his foot off the gas and let the car edge along under the power of just the idle. “There are always a ton of deer out here along this turn, so let’s see if we can catch a glimpse of any.”

She pulled her feet up in the seat and leaned her arms outside of the door as he slowly drove down the street.

At least a dozen green dots reflected as they neared an open field.

He stopped the car and pointed toward them. “See them?” he whispered. The small herd stood perfectly still with the car lights reflecting in their eyes. The largest one turned and ran for the woods and the rest followed.

“That was so pretty. Did you see the way they hopped across that field? Their white tails were so much longer than I thought they’d be.”

He laid a hand next to the gearshift, just inches from her leg, then dropped the shifter into gear and drove back to town.

He pulled the car to the curb in front of Buckham and Baxter. The whole street was quiet and only the glow from the night lights in the residences above the shops was proof that there was anyone else in the world tonight aside from him and Savannah.

He twisted in the driver’s seat and hiked his elbow up on the steering wheel. “I had the best time tonight.”

“Me too.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “It was more than I’d ever expected.”

She wrinkled her nose and leaned in. “I know what you mean. It’s like we’ve known each other forever.”

“Yeah. Really is.”

She shrugged. “Well. I guess this is it. Thanks for a great night.”

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, yes I do. You’ve met my mother. She’d have my head if it got around that I wasn’t the perfect gentleman. She raised me better than that.”

Savannah laughed. “Fine.” She reached for the door handle.

“Wait right there.”

He jumped out of the car, ran to her side, and opened the door.

She slid out of the seat, and he rested his hand on the small of her back as they walked up to the building and she stepped inside.

She turned to him and stood there for a second. “We’re going to do this again. Aren’t we?”

“I sure as hell hope so.” He almost wished he hadn’t sounded that excited.
Don’t jinx it, man
.

She dropped her hand into his and they walked upstairs. He’d never taken those stairs so slow, but he didn’t want the night to end.

When they got to the landing, she pulled out her key and unlocked the door.

“Thanks again.” She leaned her shoulder on the door and it opened slightly, and so did her lips.

He didn’t waste a moment. He slid a hand behind her neck and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was slow, and long, and good God he didn’t want it to end. He may have been able to hold back before, at his house . . . but there was no holding back now. No playful exit. No bantering.

Her lips responded just as hungrily as his own. She gasped as his hand slid down her bare arm. Soft beneath his fingers.

Could she possibly feel the same way? She had to be feeling the same way. He breathed in her scent. Her hair smelled of honeysuckle or something sweet.

He pulled away.

She looked beautiful standing there, her mouth still damp from his. Her eyes were still closed, but a smile played on her lips. “Nice,” she whispered.

He let out a breath and half whispered, “That second date needs to be soon.”

“Call me,” she mouthed the words, barely audible.

He pushed the door open.

She stepped inside and turned to face him. “Good night.”

He pulled the door closed and stayed there for just a moment until he heard her turn the lock.

Each step down the darkened stairway echoed, and suddenly he felt lonelier than he’d ever felt in his life.

CHAPTER NINE

S
cott had been at his desk for more than an hour, but he hadn’t gotten the first lick of work done. His mind had been on Savannah since the moment he left her last night.

Leaving her at the door was the hardest thing he’d had to do in a while, and although he wanted to see her again more than anything, now he was in a battle with himself over just how smart—or dumb—that would be.

“Your mom is on line two,” a voice came over the intercom.

He punched the button and put her on speaker. “Good morning, Mom.”

“How are you this morning?”

“Great. What’s up?”

“I heard you had a special date last night.”

He snatched the phone from its cradle. “And how exactly did you hear about that?” He glanced at the clock. “Already?”

“It’s a small town.”

He grunted.

“It’s true?” Her voice was full of enthusiasm. Way too much enthusiasm.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“I knew it. That girl is perfect for you. I knew the first day I spoke to her at the artisan center.”

“Slow down, Mom.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

“She’s nice.”

“I knew it!”

“It was a nice evening, but she lives up in northern Virginia, and she’s going home soon. It’s not likely anything will come of it.” And saying those words out loud had a particularly wounding sting.

“That’s only a couple hours away. Y’all could have a long-distance relationship. Famous couples make that work all the time.”

“Is this why you called?”

“Isn’t it reason enough?”

There was always more to it with her. “Not really.”

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss. I just want you to be happy.”

Then quit trying to fix me up
was what he was thinking, but what came out of his mouth was “Yes, ma’am. I know. I’m in the middle of something. Is there something you needed?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. No, you get back to work. Glad you had a good night. Bye now.”

She’d already hung up. Sometimes she was like that. When she was done talking it was like the quarter ran out and
wham
, she was gone.

He put the phone back down and looked at his computer screen.

So it was an itty-bitty lie. He was in the middle of something; it just wasn’t work, as he’d implied. On the screen were the search results on one Savannah Dey. He’d spent the last hour gathering all the information he could about her.

She’d been the belle of Belles Corner in high school. Cheerleader, gymnast, even played softball. People should know that whatever they put out on the Internet could be scooped up by any nosy looker. Today, that was him. Interestingly enough, his little city slicker had grown up in a town about the size of Adams Grove. A little smaller, even.

He’d even found a picture from their local paper. The
Belles Corner Beacon
came out once a week. They had a website too. Adams Grove hadn’t even stepped up to that yet. He found a picture in the archives of Savannah standing next to her dad, a big man with a receding hairline and a laughing smile, holding a fifteen-pound bass that they’d caught in a father-daughter tournament on Salem Lake.

Actually, she hadn’t been all that easy to find online, but once he found the obituary for her parents, he was able to trace down her hometown and find the old school postings and stuff.

Her parents had died in a car accident. The car overturned, and Savannah was the only survivor. He wondered if that accident had anything to do with her leaving the small town, or if that had been her chosen path all along.

The only tie to her being a writer was a small paper in northern Virginia that got bought out. After that . . . nothing. Maybe she’d been promoted to editor or to a position behind the scenes. Or maybe she really had been working on that novel all this time.

Or maybe she was living off a big, fat inheritance, but then she didn’t have that vibe about her. She was a city girl, but not a rich brat. No matter what scenario his brain conjured up, his heart made up an excuse for her.

That was bad news.

This girl had trouble written all over her.

He was way too interested way too fast. It wasn’t likely that she’d ever live in a small town like this. If she’d had any interest in that she’d be back in her hometown already. He didn’t need to get interested in another girl who wouldn’t fit into his lifestyle. Warning flares were shooting off around him like it was the Fourth of July, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

Deputy Taylor rapped his knuckles on the sheriff’s door. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, Dan. What’s up?”

“Chaz just dropped off tickets for us to get rid of. A couple of the guys got sick and didn’t sell their quota of tickets to the annual Ruritan Club Barn Dance. He needs our help. I figured you and your mom were going anyway. That’d be two, unless you already got yours. We each need to sell six.”

“That’s fine. I hadn’t picked up mine yet. I can get rid of them.”

Deputy Taylor set the paper-clipped batch of tickets on Scott’s desk. “I’m taking mine down to the senior center. Going to let them give them away at bingo.”

“Good idea.” Scott stood up and pulled out a fold of money from the front of his pants, then counted out ninety dollars. “Give that to Chaz when you see him.”

“Sure thing.” Deputy Taylor walked out of Scott’s office and then came right back in. “Are you going to ask that new girl to go with you?”

Scott jerked his head up.

“Don’t look so surprised. It’s kind of the talk of the town.”

“My mother.” His head lolled back. “Got to love her.”

“She means well, but there are a lot more tongues wagging than hers. Word is that little DC girl gets her coffee down at Mac’s every morning. Mac’s been telling folks he thinks it’s because she hopes she’ll run into you down there, like that first day she hit town. I’m pretty sure Mac may have beat your mom to the punch on this one.”

“Mac? What’s he know? We were in there once. Just once, and that’s before she was even sticking around for a while.”

“Must have been some fireworks. Because he’s adamant that the girl is going to be the next new resident of our town.”

“He’s just stirring the pot.” Scott thought back to that day. “Those weren’t fireworks. That was gunfire. She was still ticked off for me stopping her on I-95.”

“Oh yeah. Everyone knows you didn’t give her the ticket too. You going soft on us?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Great. He should have given her the doggone ticket. He never let people out of tickets once he stopped them. Why had she been different? It was that ex-husband-marrying-the-cousin story. Probably wasn’t even true. If that didn’t take the cake, that flat tire was going to ruin her day anyway. Maybe he
was
going soft, or maybe deep down he’d known there was something special about her right then and there during that traffic stop.

“Fireworks. Gunfire. Hell, call it sparklers, whatever it is . . . other people are noticing it too. Wake up, dude. She’s cute. You could do worse. In fact, I’ve seen you do worse.”

Now that was just below the belt. “You too? Whose side are you on?”

“I saw the way you two talked that day she was in here about the police blotter.”

“It was work.”

“Didn’t look like work to me.”

Truth was, as much as she could irritate him and push his buttons, he felt alive when he was around her. And hopeful. Hopeful that he might really have someone around again to cook with, play with, grow old with.

“Ask her to the dance.”

“It’s probably not her thing.” Then again, it was and he knew it. He’d seen her dancing that day at the Cody Tuggle concert. Savannah could move. She might be a city girl now, but there were country roots in her boots.

“You’re the best dancer around. If she goes, she may as well get the benefit of our best local talent.”

“Then set her up with Derek.” Mac’s son had way better moves than he ever would. That kid could dance. Only the thought of Savannah in someone else’s arms, even on a dance floor, sent a bitter taste to his mouth. “Get out of here.”

Deputy Taylor laughed. “I’ve worn out my welcome. Later, man.”

The bumbling Taylor had been a walking catastrophe when he first set foot in Adams Grove. Not because he was a bad cop. He’d come with the highest honors, but he hadn’t expected the nuances that a small town added to the job, and it had taken him a while to get his country-town groove on. He was a good guy, and he’d become a great addition to their team. While Adams Grove had taken a while to warm up to the Northern boy, no one considered him a Northerner anymore. Now he was one of their own.

Scott sat at his desk and fanned out the tickets.

“Mom.” He dealt two for her. She’d drag some poor sucker from the church.

“Mike and Brooke.” New to town, and this would be their first time, plus they were fun to be around.

“Me.” He slid his ticket in front of him and stared at the other.

Asking her to dinner had been easy. Why did he feel so nervous about asking her to the dance? He rolled his eyes.
Because everyone in town is already talking. This’ll be like pouring gasoline on an open fire.

He leaned his elbows on the desk and moved the mouse with his finger, which brought his computer screen back to life. That picture of that little girl with her daddy—the ear-to-ear grin and
freckles—made him smile. That kiss last night. Now
that
was fireworks.

He grabbed the tickets off the top of his desk, then headed out.

Deputy Taylor was getting into his car when Scott walked out of the station house. “Where you headed?”

Scott almost hated to say it out loud. “Coffee. Mac’s.”

“Ha, I knew it.”

Scott just shook his head and kept walking. Mac’s Bakery was a short walk, and if she wasn’t there, he’d keep going and see if she was home. Well, not home . . . but in the apartment. She’d only be there another few days. If anything was going to pan out, he’d have to move fast.

And even though he’d set out with the sole intention of tracking her down, when he looked up and saw her barely a block away walking into Mac’s, his heart did a flip and landed right in his throat.

His palms went sweaty and he could feel his fingerprints dampening the paper. He shoved the tickets in his pocket and slowed down.

Second thoughts crept in. If he took her to that dance, there’d be no stopping the gossip. Did he care?

He didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t find a good reason to get her out on another date quickly, she’d be gone, and then all he’d have would be a handful of wonder-ifs.

Scott sucked in a deep breath and swallowed that lump back, forging ahead.

As he reached for the door, Savannah was walking out.

She jumped back, her coffee sloshing out of the lid across her hand.

“Good morning,” he said. “I’m sorry. Let me get that.”
Smooth
, he thought. He grabbed a handful of napkins off one of the small tables near the door and dabbed at her hand.

“It’s fine. It barely spilled.” She switched hands and slapped her damp hand on the rear of her jeans. “See. No harm.” She smiled.

“Good to see you.” She looked like she belonged in this town. Like she should be walking down this street every single day. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and with no makeup, she looked even prettier than she had in that fancy dress.

“I was just going to grab some coffee. Want to join me?”

She stopped and turned. “I do.”

Scott reached the counter with her on his heels, and Mac placed a large cup of coffee on it in front of him. “Hang on one second.” He rushed to the back.

Savannah hopped up on a barstool at the end of the counter and flashed Scott a smile as he walked over to join her.

Mac rushed back out with a plate, and looked panicked when he realized Scott wasn’t still in that spot near the register where he’d left him. Mac’s face spread into a sugar-sweet grin when he spotted Scott and Savannah sitting at his counter. “Something special to share.” He put a cardboard box in front of them and then turned and grabbed two forks. “On the house.”

Scott opened the box, and Savannah said, “I am going to have to work out for a week to burn that sucker off.”

A thick pastry was spun into a cinnamon twirl covered in sticky icing. “We’re going to need a table for this.” He picked up her coffee and his, and balanced the box on top. “Come on.” He motioned Savannah from the counter to a small two-top by the window. There weren’t many seats in the little place, but right under Mac’s nose was not the best place for them to chat, since the guy had already run wild with assumptions. Besides, if Savannah turned him down for the dance, he’d just as soon no one else know.

His chair screeched across the tiled floor, and the next sound was a moan from Savannah as she plunged her fork into the pastry. She wasn’t shy about taking the first bite.

“Good?”

“Oh, please. You have to ask? We’re talking Mac here.” She took another bite. “I had such a great time last night.”

“So did I. I have something for you.”

“What’s that?” Her eyes danced. “You’re not going to give me a speeding ticket for last night, are you?” She laughed playfully. “I’ll citizen’s arrest
you
if you do. I saw that speedometer needle buried on Bradford Junction Road.”

“Last night stays between the two of us.”

“Deal.”

He pulled one of the tickets out of his shirt pocket. “I was wondering if you might honor me with your company at the annual barn dance. The Ruritans put it on every year to raise money for their scholarships.”

“When is it? You know I’ve only got the apartment for another week.”

It wasn’t much time, but he’d enjoy it while it lasted. “The dance is this Saturday night.

“Tomorrow? Yeah. I’ll be here.”

“Is that a yes?” He prayed it was a yes.

“Yes.” She grabbed for the ticket, and he pulled it just from her reach. “All right, wise guy.”

“I’ll pick you up?”

She cast him a sideways glance. “Like another date? Or a first one.”