Her house was a small bungalow on a road that backed to an inlet. She had a front porch just big enough for two chairs and a view of water through the neighbor's trees. She'd fallen in love with it the moment she'd seen it. The hardwood floors creaked in all the right places, the kitchen window looked out on her small but neat yard, and the built-in bookshelves that flanked the fireplace had convinced her this was meant to be her home.
Now, as she quickly straightened cushions and moved a stack of legal briefs off the dining room table, Sandra glanced outside to see Terry's SUV pull into her driveway. She hustled to pull ingredients from the refrigerator. Through the window, she watched him climb out and take in her house, noting the way his eyes lingered on the wind chimes she'd hung from the porch ceiling and the small garden where she grew herbs she rarely remembered to use.
"This is perfect," Terry said when she opened the door, and Sandra felt relief wash through her at the genuine appreciation in his voice. "Exactly what I pictured."
"What did you picture?" She was curious as she led him into the kitchen.
"Something warm. Lived in. Real." His gaze swept over her living room, taking in the overflowing bookshelves and thereading nook she'd created by the front window. "Not some sterile showplace that looks like no one actually lives there."
She felt heat bloom in her chest at the casual compliment. "Well, you definitely can't accuse this place of being sterile. Tea?"
"Sounds good."
As she moved around her kitchen, pulling together their lunch with the kind of easy efficiency that came from years of living alone, she was hyperaware of Terry watching her. Not in a way that made her uncomfortable, but with the focused attention he seemed to bring to everything that interested him.
"So this is where the brilliant legal mind does her plotting." He leaned against her counter with his glass of iced tea in his hands.
"Plotting?" Sandra laughed, handing him a plate with his sandwich. "I prefer 'strategic planning for justice.'"
He chuckled. "Sounds much more professional."
They settled at her two-seater dining room table, and she studied him in the afternoon light that streamed through her windows. He looked different here in her space, less like the intimidating police captain and more like just a man she was getting to know. The formal edges were softer as his posture relaxed.
"Can I ask you something?" Terry set down his sandwich and met her eyes directly.
"Shoot."
"Do you see yourself staying here? On the Shore, I mean." The question carried weight, and Sandra realized he was asking for reasons that went beyond casual curiosity.
"Why do you ask?"
His expression grew thoughtful. "I've seen a lot of people come through here over the years. Young professionals who treat the Shore like a stepping stone to something bigger. Theystay long enough to get some experience, then head back to Richmond or DC or wherever they think the real opportunities are."
She studied his face, understanding now why the question mattered. "And you're wondering if I'm one of them."
"Are you?"
She considered her answer carefully, recognizing that her response would shape whatever was developing between them. "When I first moved here, I thought this might be temporary. A way to get some experience in public interest law before moving on to something more... prestigious, I guess."
Terry's expression didn't change, but Sandra caught the slight tension that crept into his shoulders.
"But that was before I understood what I'd found here," she continued. "I love my work, Terry. I love that I can make a real difference in people's lives instead of just shuffling papers for corporate clients. I love my house, my garden, and the fact that I can walk to the bay whenever I need to clear my head."
"And?" he prompted gently.
Heat rose in her cheeks, but she pushed forward. "And I love that I've met people who make me want to put down roots here. I don’t have one foot out the door."
The words hung between them, more honest than she had intended but true in a way that surprised her. His eyes darkened, and something shifted in the air between them. There was an electric charge that made her pulse race.
"Sandra," Terry said quietly, pushing back from the table and standing. "I need to tell you something."
Her heart stuttered as she nodded. "Okay."
He stood and moved around the table until he knelt beside her chair, close enough that she could smell his cologne and see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. "I've been thinking about kissing you since the moment we met."
The admission hit Sandra like a caress, desire flooding through her system with an intensity that left her breathless. "Oh."
"And if I don't do it soon, I'm going to lose my mind."
