Second Chance at the Sugar Shack (9 page)

“God, you are drunk.” He wasn’t about to spoil the fun by telling her the only place he planned to take her was home. He closed the door and then went around to slide into the driver’s seat. The dashboard clock verified his shift was officially over so he made a quick radio call to log out. The code numbers he used forced her brows together.

“What’s that mean?” Katie asked. “Are you telling them to get the drunk tank ready for me? Which, by the way, I am not.”

“Harvey Tittlebaum and his nephew Buddy are already occupying the drunk tank tonight. Course, they might like a little female company.”

“You cannot be serious.”

Matt started the engine and drove off down Main Street. “Naw, that would be cruel and unusual punishment for the two of them. So I guess we’ll have to find someplace else to stick you.” He glanced across the cab and managed to keep a straight face. “We usually cuff our additional drunks to the commode. Unfortunately the tile floors do have a tendency to get cold this time of year.”

“Great.” She slumped in the seat and dropped her head back against the headrest. “Just what my father needs, to have to bail his drunk daughter out of the slammer restroom.”

Matt looked over at her, the storefront lights flashed across the misery darkening her beautiful face. To her credit, she didn’t start blubbering like most of the drunks he picked up. Suddenly he didn’t have the heart to tease her anymore. And he wasn’t exactly ready to take her home either. “I’m not taking you to jail.”

“You’re not?” She sat up. “Then where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere to sober up. Your dad has enough on his plate. You want him to see you like this?”

“Oh! No. You’re right. I can’t go home.” Her tone spiraled into panic. “Not smashed like this.”

“Thought you said you weren’t drunk.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Maybe a lot,” he said.

“No. A
lot
was that party-till-you-puke Friday night after the Deer Lick Destroyers won the state title. After
you
scored the winning touchdown.” She chuckled. “God, I spent the entire next day hugging my knees and worshiping the porcelain king.
And
trying to convince my mom that I had the flu.”

“Did she believe you?”

“No.” Her nose wrinkled. “I had to scrub the mixing pots for a week. Do you remember that night?” she asked.

He did. But his version was quite different. While he vaguely remembered scoring that touchdown, he did remember Katie dancing by the bonfire near the back of Old Man Carver’s plowed alfalfa field. He remembered how she’d come to sit on his lap, her body warm from the fire. He remembered her breath sweet from the wine when she kissed him. And he remembered wanting her so bad he’d ached.

Kate had been an affectionate drunk back then. He glanced at her across the SUV and wondered if she’d be just as amorous now.

T
he patrol vehicle rolled to a stop in a dark alley. Kate knew she’d had a bit too much to drink, but she wasn’t disoriented and that was definitely the back entrance to the bakery. “What are we doing here?”

“You said you wanted to sober up.” Matt turned off the engine. “I hear this place makes the best coffee in town.”

She looked across the interior of the SUV. The red, green, and yellow dashboard lights bounced off the star pinned to his shirt. “Maybe so, but I don’t have a key.”

He got out of the SUV and came around to open her door. “I do,” he said as his big warm hand reached beneath her elbow and he helped her down from the seat while tingles slid from her heart and into her stomach.

With her hands cuffed and the Guinness weaving through her bloodstream, she lost her balance and bumped against his wide chest. The alley was dark, the night sky darker, so when she looked up she missed the expression on his face. What she didn’t miss was the tension in his arms, his hands, or the solidness of his strong body. “Sorry,” she said.

They might have stood like that—chest to breast, thigh to thigh—for a minute or five hours. Kate wasn’t sure. She was only sure her heart fluttered like hummingbird wings against her ribs and his matched hers beat for beat. Of course, she could be misreading all those cardiac rhythms.

As though he recognized they were in a dangerous position, he quickly uncuffed her. Though the metal bracelets hadn’t been tight at all, she rubbed her wrists. She just needed a distraction from the devastatingly handsome man standing in the dark alley with her, who, despite his outward antagonism, was obviously interested in her. Or at least parts of him were.

He said nothing as he stuck the cuffs into his utility belt and then turned toward the back entrance to unlock the door. She watched him flip on the lights and then stroll over to the coffee pot like he’d done it a million times.

“Exactly
why
is it you have the keys to my parents’ bakery?” She tossed her jacket on the chair by the door and followed him to the prep counter where the coffeemaker sat next to the stack of baking sheets she’d washed before leaving earlier. The scent of sugar floated around them as he reached for the box of filters and dumped in a few scoops of coffee.

“They gave it to me when I worked for them.”

“You worked for my parents?” She came up beside him and planted her hands on her hips. “When?”

“After you left.”

That settled over her like a tsunami. “So, you like, what? Decorated cupcakes?”

He grinned. “Your mother always said I made a mean raspberry torte.”

She tried to picture big bad Matt Ryan wearing a white apron and dusting confetti candy bits on a birthday cake. The image didn’t fit any better than her being back in Deer Lick.

“I don’t get it. If you needed a job, why didn’t you just keep working for your uncle?”

“Because after you bailed, your folks needed me.”

Ouch. Okay, so her parents needed someone to help them out. She had left them short-handed. At the time she hadn’t exactly considered what kind of situation her departure would put them in. She’d been selfish. And now, the thought of how’d she’d left them high and dry stung.

But Matt hadn’t said they needed
somebody
, he’d said they needed
him
. That was different. And that didn’t sit well with her at all. She nudged him out of the way and tugged the glass carafe from his hand. “I can do that.”

He pulled up a stool and sat down. “I miss her.”

Kate looked up in time to catch a wistful look darken his eyes. “My mom?”

“Yeah. She was a good friend.” He stretched his long legs out in front of him and chuckled deep in his chest. “Of course, I did everything I could to keep on her good side. You did not want to piss off Letty Silverthorne.”

“Seriously. She was never the kind to easily forgive and forget.”

“You’re a lot like her in that sense.”

She fought the urge to punch him. Unfortunately he was telling the truth. “That’s what Kelly tells me. She thinks Mom and I are cut from the same fabric.”

“I can see that. Your mom was a good woman.”

She pushed the electrical plug into the outlet. “Does that mean you think I’m a good woman too?” Fishing was so pathetic. But these days Kate would take whatever compliments she could wring from someone.

He gave her that smile that made her heart flip like an IHOP flapjack.

“Make a full pot of that and I’ll help you drink it.”

“Nice deflection, Deputy.” She looked up. “You sure? Seems to me you’d want to call it a night.”

He watched her, seemed to study her actually, before he answered. “I’m in no hurry.”

His scrutiny made her uneasy and only managed to scramble a million questions through her mind. Some she could sift out. Others were best left tucked in her brain for safe-keeping.

Apparently she’d missed a lot of Matt Ryan’s life. And though she’d thought of him once in awhile, her reflections on what he’d done with his life had never consumed her. She’d been much too busy building a career. She bit her lip as she waited for the carafe to fill with water. He sat there on that stool like he owned the place. His dark hair a bit messy like he’d run his fingers through it. The expression on his handsome face unreadable.

Curiosity nipped at her with sharp little teeth. A sure sign she should just let things go. A sign she chose to ignore. She’d never discovered the identity of the blond by his side at her mother’s funeral. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask the big question. “No
little woman
to go home to?”

He looked up from the newspaper he’d found on the counter. “Not yet.”

“Huh. I figured you’d be married by now.” She ended her comment with a chuckle.

“Something funny about that?”

“Actually . . .” She chuckled again and pushed the coffeemaker ON button. “. . . I also figured by now you’d be bald, pudgy, and a grease monkey still working for your uncle.

His blue gaze intensified as stared at her without blinking. “Guess you figured wrong.”

Boy did she
. She turned toward him, leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “I never imagined you, of all people, would go into law enforcement. I mean, you do have a pretty wild background.”

“People grow up, Katie. And people forgive.”

“It’s Kate. Nobody calls me Katie anymore except my dad.”

“Is there anything about you that’s still part of the girl before she left?”

She shrugged. “Not much. Hard to remain a small-town girl in a city that eats them up and spits them out.”

He shook his head. “Can’t figure out why anyone would ever want that kind of life.”

Sometimes neither could she. But she’d eat worms before she’d let him know. “Because it’s exciting. It’s fast-paced. It’s glamorous. Do you know I have an entire loft stuffed with couture and a collection of designer jewelry most other stylists would kill for?”

He stared at her as though she were speaking Martian.

“But it’s not just about the clothes. It’s about the red carpets, the star-studded galas, champagne, caviar . . .” Those moments made it easy to forget all the hours she spent on her knees. In cat hair. Sewing crystals on the pants of an unappreciative pop princess. “. . . never a dull moment, you know?”

He leaned back and folded his arms. His biceps expanded. Kate knew those muscles were from hard work and not a workout machine. Which made them way more sexy.

“Guess I’m okay with dull.” He shrugged. “But then, that must have been one of the things you hated about me back then.”

Looking for an escape from the intensity in his eyes and the sting in her chest she said, “I never hated you. I just wanted something more than this town could give me.”

He stood and came toward her. “You mean something more than I could give you.”

Her heart tripped.
Yes.
“Honestly, Matt. I’d been waiting for that scholarship for two years. When it came, I left. I never added you into the picture. We were young and what happened between us was . . .”
Incredible. Unforgettable. Unbelievable.
“. . . a mistake.”

Unexpected and old feelings rushed back as he stood next to her. She reached for the carafe. Carelessly poured the coffee into the cup. And missed.

Hot drops of liquid splashed over her hand and she jerked it away just in time before the entire contents burned her. The cup crashed to the floor. “Ow, damn it.”

“Are you okay?” He took her arm and held her hand up to examine it.

“I’m fine.” Except for the warmth of his palm surrounding her wrist. Except for the heat radiating from his body. Except for the hard jolt of desire that reared its horny head.

He looked down into her eyes, looked at her mouth and lowered his head. Mesmerized she watched it happen, in slow motion, until his amazing lips brushed her hand with a kiss and every fiber in her body went into a meltdown of need.

Then he gave her
the look
—that sexy half-lidded look that once had her ripping off her shirt and shucking her panties.

“I never saw it that way,” he said.

“What?” Her hand, still cradled in his palm, tingled and she had no idea what he was talking about.

“A mistake.” A slow smile curved his lips. “Us.”

Now what in the hell was she supposed to say to that? Especially since her heart seemed to be trying to beat its way out of her chest.

“I had dreams,” she said, easing her hand from his. “Didn’t you? Didn’t you ever wish you could get out of Deer Lick? Didn’t you ever wonder what the rest of the world might be like?”

“Me? Nope.” He shrugged, leaned down, and picked up the shards of glass. “I’m like a tree. I’ve got roots that go way down deep. And I don’t plan on digging them up.”

“Never?”

“Never.” He took a step closer to toss the broken cup in the trash can behind her.”

“God, this place would drive me crazy.” She shook her head, to shatter her overpowering imagination. “It doesn’t even have a movie theater. How can anybody live in a town without a movie theater?”

“We never missed it as kids.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “Most people use those mail-in DVD places. That way you don’t have to worry about someone’s cell phone going off and interrupting the movie. You can watch it from the comfort of your sofa or even your own bed. I guess that’s where I differ.”

“Why’s that?”

He gave her
that
look again. “The last thing I want to do in bed is watch a movie.”

She laughed. “I’m not even going to ask. But I’m sure you don’t spend much time there alone.”

“Jealous?”

“You wish.” Kate reached for another cup and glanced over her shoulder. Arms folded across his chest he stood there, watching her.

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about me anymore, Kate. You don’t.”

“I never said I did. I just assumed.”

“Don’t.” His eyes narrowed. “How would you like it if I assumed you slept your way to the top of your career? Don’t they have something called a casting couch?”

“I don’t sleep around.” She folded her arms. “Besides, I’m a stylist, not an actress.”

“Says who?”

K
ate watched her parents’ quaint log cabin come into view as the patrol car rolled to a stop at the curb. Her mother had decorated the small front porch with pots of golden mums. An autumn wreath with an orange satin bow hung on the front door. Her mother had a knack for all those homey touches. Which had been only one of the issues that had driven her and her mother apart. Kate had never been into gingham and cute. She’d always been more a fan of silk and fabulous. Still, she had to admit, the homey touches gave an air of welcome you just couldn’t achieve with rhinestones and feathers. Her chest tightened as she glanced across the darkened cab to Matt. He’d been silent since they’d left the bakery.