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“That one.” I point at her face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is just how I smile.”

“No, it’s your ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She waves me off.

“What are you up to, Mom?” I frown at her.

“Nothing, Genevieve.” She gets up out of her seat. “I need to do some work in Dad’s office.”

“Mom.”

“Let me know if you need anything before you go,” she calls over her shoulder, walking out of the little office where her desk and mine are.

With no time to figure out what she is up to, but sure that she is up to something, I print out the documents that Wyatt needs to sign and head out to my car, not even bothering to tell my mom I’m leaving.

I make it to Love Hurst, which is a busy main road that connects Gooseberry Ridge to Willow Boon, another small town, and notice red and blue flashing lights ahead of me on the right side of the road. As I get closer, I realize that Wyatt has pulled over a black minivan and is talking to the driver at their window.

While I’m in the throes of an internal debate about parking behind him or continuing on so I don’t interrupt him while he’s working, he turns his head my direction like he can sense me, and our gazes lock through the windshield of my car.

Darn, I thought that maybe I made up how good looking he is, but he’s just as handsome as I remember, even without the stubble that was covering his jaw yesterday, and wearing a uniform that fits him like it was tailored by a professional just for him. Ignoring the feeling in the pit of my stomach, I lift my hand and wave, and he motions for me to pull over while he walks back to his cruiser and gets in.

I park behind him, and from where I’m sitting, I can see the woman in the driver’s seat of the van through her side mirror, and it looks like she’s crying.

A few minutes later he gets back out of his cruiser with a sheet of paper that he takes to the driver’s window of the van and passes it over.

With a pit in my stomach, I watch him talk to her, knowing exactly how she feels right now.

I’ve only gotten pulled over once for speeding, but I can still remember how upset I was getting that ticket. And sure, I was in the wrong. I had been going seven miles an hour over the speed limit, but it was my first time ever in trouble with anyone, and it sucked that the officer who ticketed me didn’t take that into account.

“Is she okay to drive?” I ask, rolling down the window when Wyatt approaches my car after the van pulls away with the woman behind the wheel still crying.

“Yeah.” He glances her way quickly before focusing back on me. “Her mom is in the hospital. She’s on her way home to change and pick up some stuff.”

“So her bad day just got worse with that ticket you gave her.”

“I only gave her a warning.” He leans into my window. “Did you bring the paperwork?”

“Oh.” I reach over to the passenger seat for the folder I brought with me and pass it to him. “That was nice of you not to give her a ticket.”

“I’m not trying to make her bad day worse.” He repeats what I said while he pulls a pen from the pocket of his shirt. Flipping open the folder, he glances over the paperwork, then signs it with a flick of his wrist. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” I take the folder from him. “When I get back to the office, I’ll upload this to my computer and send it over to the Realtor. Hopefully we’ll have some good news soon.”

“We’ll see.” The doubt in his voice makes me wonder if he knows the situation with the sellers.

“Do you know the owners of the house?”

“Know of them. Don’t know them personally.”

“I guess that makes sense. You probably know most of the people around here.”

“Most.” His eyes roam over my face, making it difficult not to shift in my seat.

“Obviously not me since I just moved back here.”

“I might know more about you than you think.”