“There are pros and cons to living in both places. You just gotta figure out what works best for you.”
“Does it?” she hedged, her eyes scanning his face, gauging just how far she could take this line of questioning.
“When my parents died in that crash, the only thing I could think about was getting home.” He rubbed his hands against his thighs, trying to give them something to do other than reaching for her. “To my sister… and to them.”
He could see compassion softening the line of her jaw, tempting him to reach out and stroke it. “And once I came home, it just didn’t feel right to leave. Cindy’s fifteen years younger than me. If I’d dragged her back to Philly with me, I’d have uprooted her in the middle of high school. After experiencing such a loss, I didn’t want her to lose anything else that was familiar to her. Me relocating was the only solution.”
She moved closer to him, her arm rubbing slightly against his. The brief touch was innocent, from anyone else it would’ve barely registered. Still, his skin tingled where the light pressure of her bicep rubbed against his.
“Was it difficult to transition from being a big city detective to a small-town sheriff?”
“I didn’t start out as the sheriff,” he said, and boy, was he grateful for that. If he’d been thrown into that fire, he’d probably have run from the town screaming. “I was a lieutenant in Philly PD. Having that prior experience made me eligible to apply for a colonel’s position. After five years, my supervisor promoted me to one of three deputy chief sheriff positions. I worked that for three years before the mayor appointed me sheriff two years ago after the previous sheriff fell ill and needed to go into early retirement.”
“Appointed? I was wondering why you were forced to do this auction at the mayor’s behest. Aren’t sheriffs elected?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll be running my first campaign next year. Until then, I’m the mayor’s bitch.”
“Stop it.” She nudged his shoulder playfully, bringing a bright spot of levity to the moment. “Appointment or no, you’re here for one reason alone.”
Curiosity got the better of him and he leaned in. “Oh yeah? Well please, do enlighten me. Why am I here?”
“It’s simple.” She laid her hand on his forearm and let graceful fingers wrap around it. Even through his lightweight sweater, her touch burned through the intricately woven layers of yarn, through to his skin, spreading electric need across his body like a live wire to gasoline. “You’re a good brother who’d do anything to help his sister. It’s why you brought me here. It’s why we’re sitting under a tent on the sidewalk selling flowers.”
He blinked, unsure how to respond. There was no denying her assumption. She was spot-on. From the moment he got the news about his parents, everything in his world became about his sister.
She squeezed his arm, bringing his attention back to the here and now, back to her. “I wish I’d had someone looking after me like that. She’s a lucky woman.”
There was a brief bit of sadness in her eyes that he wanted to root out and destroy. Everything he knew on paper and in personabout this woman spoke to how genuine she was. And if Michael had anything to say about, she’d never be sad again.
That was the tricky part, however. He had nothing to say about it. She wasn’t his in any way that gave him a right to meddle in her life. So instead of giving in to the possessive rumbling in his gut, he placed his hand gently on top of hers and squeezed.
“You deserve that too, Vanessa.”
And strangely enough, in this moment, he’d give anything to be the one to give it to her.
“I’m exhausted!” Vanessa’s proclamation rang throughout the foyer as they walked into his house. “After the day I’ve had, I have a newfound respect for florists. Who knew selling flowers could be so taxing?”
She bent down to take off her wedge boots at the bottom of his stairs, and his heart nearly stopped. All that ass in the air gave him thoughts he probably shouldn’t be having about a guest in his home who was here to blow up his sister’s life. Except the way the dark-wash denim of her designer jeans perfectly cupped each cheek had him halfway to hard in two-point-five seconds flat.
Stop being a perv, Michael.
Taking one last lingering look as she pulled off her last shoe, he turned around, making a display of closing and locking the front door.
He thought he had his body and mind under control and was ready to face her again when she said, “I’m gonna run up and take a shower.” And there he was, fighting the image of her naked with her supple curves slick with water and whatever that delicious-smelling shower gel she used was. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think of police reports and employee evaluations he had to get done, anything to make his mind stop picturing himself under that damn water with her.
He cleared his throat, turning around to find her staring at him with questioning eyes, scanning his face for an answer to whatever question she had yet to speak.
“Yeah.” His voice was raw, too thick with need for his tastes, so he cleared it again. “I’m gonna do the same. I’m not really up for cooking tonight. He made a show of pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “What kind of takeout would you like?”
“This town has a good Chinese takeout place?”
“Yup.” He kept his eyes on the screen as he looked for the restaurant’s number. “Know what you want?”
“General Tso’s with vegetable lo mein.”
“They make it pretty spicy; you want me to tell them to go easy on the peppers?”
He chose the wrong moment to pull his gaze up to hers. There was something electric in her eyes that filled the small space between them with heat.
