“Old enough to know that one night with her and you’d be a lot happier.”
“Yeah, andI’mold enough to tellyouthat if you ever pull shit like that again, you’ll be on desk duty for a month.”
Luke straightened. “You can’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Try me.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “You know what? I think your roommate’s holding out on you and you’re taking your frustrations out on me.”
When his coffee was ready, he lifted the mug and headed toward the door. “Nope. But Iamfrustrated with you.”
Luke muttered something, but Jesse ignored it. He reached his office and settled behind the desk. On his first sip of coffee, his eyes closed.
Shit, that was good. And necessary.
He was about to log onto his computer when his cell rang, the name of his best friend—also his former Ghost Ops teammate—on the screen.
A smile curved his lips as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Holden. It’s been too long.”
“It has. Thought I’d check in on how everything’s going being the big guy around town.”
“You mean sheriff? Not too glamorous, I’m afraid. Usually, I’m snowed under in emails and paperwork.”
“Lucky you love being stuck at a desk.”
His friend knew he hated that. “Trouble usually hits at some point.”
“Trouble? In the small town of Amber Ridge? Ah, you mean stopping Mrs. Allen from clubbing poor Pete over the head with her walking stick for driving too fast.”
Jesse’s lips twitched because it was so damn accurate. Pete was Burt’s nephew, and also the pizzeria delivery driver. He was notorious for zipping around town and breaking the speed limit. Mrs. Allen was notorious for clubbing people with her walking stick when she got angry…which was often.
Holden knew all of that because he’d spent a lot of holidays here with his family.
“I’d take that over paperwork right now,” Jesse finally said.
Holden laughed.
“When are you coming down here next?”
Holden cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s kind of what I’m calling about. I want to run an idea by you.”
“Shoot.”
“How would you feel about me moving to Amber Ridge?”
Jesse’s brows shot up. “Uh…I’d fucking love it.”
“Good. Because Minnesota’s not really feeling like home anymore, and I can do my woodwork anywhere.”
Jesse grinned. “Get your ass over here then.”
“Great. Plus, I’m missing your mom’s cooking.”
“And my pretty face?”
“Every damn day.”
Jesse chuckled. “Remember though, the coffee’s shit.”
