Читать книгу What If We Fall in Love? - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 9

After making the statement, Jensen put some distance between herself and the sexy sheriff. She leaned her back against the front porch support and folded her arms over her chest, letting the evening breeze cool her hot cheeks.

Why had he kissed her? She didn’t completely buy his selfless, good-guy act. On the other hand, she would rather believe he was chivalrous as opposed to attracted. Because she was infatuated enough for both of them, and that was so not what she wanted. If she let it, their meeting of mouths could be a life-altering experience and she had no reason to want her life altered in any way, shape or form.

He’d told her earlier his bachelor status was based on attraction and approval. He needed to be attracted to a woman that his girls approved of. So far that hadn’t happened for him. Tonight she’d gotten along pretty well with the persnickety O’Connor twins—meaning one hurdle crossed. After that kiss, she issued an all-points bulletin to her heart—do not under any circumstances approach the suspect with the intention of apprehending his heart.

With that directive uppermost in her mind, bantering with him after that earth-moved-under-her-feet experience was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Her first legal argument in front of the toughest judge in Dallas had been a walk in the park by comparison.

Bringing up the summons he’d received earlier was the only thing she could think of to take the heat off herself and put it squarely back on him where it belonged.

She let out a long breath. “So what do you say, Grady? Want to talk about who’s suing you and why?”

“No.”

“Just like that? No? I thought you law-enforcement types were trained in methods of negotiation.”

“You’re thinking of the FBI.”

“But don’t they teach you how to interrogate perps, how to meet them halfway to get the information you want?”

He shrugged, and the shoulder movement did things to his body that made her knees weak. “It’s not worth wasting your time.”

“As an officer of the law you should know better. Anyone can bring suit. It’s up to a judge to decide whether or not it has merit. That’s where I come in.”

She watched him rest a hip against the porch railing beside her, one booted foot grounding him, the other dangling back and forth. Very masculine. She made a conscious effort to inhale deep, calming breaths. If he was a couple of inches closer, she would be able to feel the heat from his body. The thought made her shiver, and she stepped up those deep, calming breaths.

After clearing her throat she said, “It’s my job to convince the judge that whoever is suing you has no merit to his case.”

“I can handle it.”

“The worst thing you can do is be casual about this, Grady. It’s about your children.”

In the moonlight she saw him frown and the lines of his face tighten. “I never take anything about my children for granted. And don’t look now, Counselor, but I haven’t confirmed your guess that it has anything to do with them.”

“It’s more than a guess.”

“How can it be?”

“The fact that right after getting those papers you were holding on to the girls so tightly they could hardly breathe. Then you sent them home with an armed guard. It couldn’t have been more clear if you’d taken out a billboard on Interstate twenty.” The worry lines between his eyebrows deepened. “You went from teasing to terrified in four little words—You’ve just been served.”

“Okay. You win.”

“Yes, I do. More often than not. Every time I go into court I’m prepared. I’ve done my homework and try to make sure there are no surprises. I’m very good. So what gives, Grady?”

“Someone is suing me for custody of the girls.”

The grim look on his face told her he was serious. Even though she’d had a feeling it was something like this, his confirmation of her suspicions surprised her. Only a relative would have a prayer of obtaining custody. Grady didn’t have anyone else.

“Who would do something like this? Lacey’s folks?” she asked.

“Her parents are both dead. There isn’t anyone else. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Actually I was thinking there’s a name on those papers you received, and sharing it would be a big help.”

“Not important,” he said.

“Okay. If you won’t tell me who, at least explain why.”

“How should I know?”

She straightened away from the porch support and jammed her fists on her hips. “For a smart man, you’re acting like a moron.”

“Don’t sweet-talk me, Jensen. Tell me how you really feel.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That was sort of a rhetorical comment,” he said wryly. “I didn’t realize you’d stoop to calling me names.”

“If the shoulder holster fits…” She finished her statement with a shrug. “Look, Grady, I’m trained for this and I want to help. We’re friends. Why won’t you let me?”

“You don’t have to take on the world’s problems.”

“I’m not. Just yours—”

“Where were we?” he interrupted. “Oh, yes. I was trying to replace a bad memory with a good one until your sister so rudely interrupted us.” He put both boots on the wooden porch and took a step toward her.

She backed away and made a cross with her index fingers to ward him off. “A blatant attempt to sidetrack me and it’s not going to work.”

He grinned. “How will you know unless we try?”

If he continued to smile at her like that she would try anything and probably forget her own name. “Knock it off, Grady. This is serious. And you’re not as charming as you think.”

“Yes, I am.”

Yes, he was. But it didn’t quite distract her enough. She found it odd and disturbing that he wouldn’t tell her anything about the lawsuit. Granted, they hadn’t been close friends for years. But he’d seen how shaken she was when the teenage bull rider had been injured, and had stayed with her. A trusted deputy had taken his girls home. Even with the problem that had been dropped on him just that night, he’d flatly refused to leave her.

Her heart skipped at the thought and warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with a June evening in Texas and everything to do with how sweet and thoughtful Grady O’Connor was. After all these years on her own, his warm, supportive presence was like a light at the end of a long black tunnel. She just hoped the beam wasn’t attached to a speeding locomotive.

“I’ll take your silence as agreement on my charm,” he said.

“I’m immune to charming men.”

“Oh? Let’s test that defense.”

He put his arm around her waist and loosely settled her against his chest. Cupping her cheek in his big, warm hand, he started to lower his mouth to hers.

“I’m fine. I don’t need the distraction.” Jensen stepped away from the circle of his arms. “And you can’t afford to take this situation lightly.”

“It’s just a nuisance suit.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

“Probably. But if you don’t take it seriously now, it could become more than that. Let me help. I can put together a strategy to convince the judge that the case is without merit and get it thrown out before it snowballs into something big. It’s my job, and I’m very good.”

“I’m sure you are. But you’re good at it in Dallas, and I live in Destiny. I intend to seek legal counsel, but I’ll get someone local to handle it. Besides, you’re here on vacation.”

“Not so fast, Sheriff. You know what they say about assuming something.”

“What’s that?”

“It makes an ass out of u and me.”

He laughed. “In my case it’s probably no more than the truth. But it would be less than gentlemanly to agree with that—about you.”

“I’m not just here for a vacation. My firm is considering opening a branch office in Destiny.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so. Business in the area is expanding outward from the Metroplex. Growth brings jobs, people, housing. Because I know the area, the firm sent me here to handle it.”

“So your offer to help is testing the waters of legal expansion?”

“Of course not. I genuinely want to do what I can to advise you—legally. I’ve seen you with the girls. You’re terrific.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I didn’t say that to flatter you. It’s just the truth. I can’t conceive of a good reason for anyone to initiate a suit like this. Tonight I saw for myself the love, discipline and just plain common sense of your parenting skills. We’ve already established it’s not a relative of yours or Lacey’s who’s behind this. It would be a crime to take them away from you. No one could love them the way their biological father could.”

She saw the frown return to his face and missed the teasing look and the warmth it generated. What had she said? She’d sincerely meant the compliment.

“I’m grateful for the vote of confidence.”

“Look, even if I wasn’t heading up the law office here I could handle this long distance. I can—”

“Look, Jen, don’t think I don’t appreciate the offer. And from one of the finest Dallas attorneys, too. But you’re not the right lawyer for this case.”

This case? It was right up her alley—her specialty, so to speak. In the past few hours since he’d invaded her personal space, she’d seen firsthand his protective streak. First with the twins, then with her. Was he refusing her offer because he was trying to protect her? From what? What could anything about his twins have to do with her?

“Why am I not right?”

“Look, I’ve got to get home to the girls. Are you okay now?”

“I’m fine.” Thanks to him.

“Good.” He walked to the steps and glanced over his shoulder. “See you around.”

“Okay,” she answered, bewildered. “’Night.”

The echo of his footsteps faded. Unfortunately her bad feeling didn’t. If she were smart, she’d let this go. She should be grateful he’d pushed her away—saved her from herself, so to speak. He didn’t want her help. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. Even-Steven.

Now she could get back to life as she knew it—on her own. But why after spending time with the sheriff did that seem so lonely?

The next day Grady walked in the front door of the sheriff’s office, and Deputy Phoebe Johnson looked up.

“Hey, boss.” Behind the counter, she leaned forward and rested her forearms on it.

“Hey. Everything quiet?” he asked her.

She nodded. “How was lunch?”

“I ran into an old friend. Jack Riley.”

“I heard about him. Good-looking military type. He went into This ’n That and didn’t come up for air till lunch. Something going on with him and Maggie?”

Maggie Benson was the owner of Destiny’s gift shop.

“Hard to say,” he answered.

“Why? You had lunch with them.”

“So?” Grady stood in front of the counter separating the waiting area from the two buddy desks behind it. Computer equipment and paperwork littered the tops of the work spaces.

“So, put your legendary detective skills to work and tell me your observations.”

The pretty, young, auburn-haired deputy met his gaze with a speculative one of her own. Her eyes were the color of Texas bluebonnets—somewhere between blue and lavender. She filled out the uniform better than any deputy he had. But wild horses would never get him to say that out loud. He treated her just like everyone else and that’s just the way she wanted it.

At twenty-three, Phoebe was dedicated, smart and ambitious. Grady figured she was after his job. She’d probably have it someday, but not until he was ready to give it up. He was acting sheriff while elected sheriff Warren Drummond was on medical leave after a heart attack. But he would probably retire early, since his health was unlikely to permit him to return to the demanding job.

“My observations are that Maggie and Jack are friends.”

Phoebe shook her head and slid him a pitying look. “If that isn’t just like a man.”

“You want to elaborate on that?”

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Let me rephrase. What does that mean, Deputy?”

“It means you wouldn’t know a romance in progress if it sashayed up and hit you in the head with a two-by-four.”

He grinned. She had a way with words and didn’t mince any of them. Not unlike a sassy brunette he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind. Thoughts of Jensen had kept him awake tossing and turning.

“I seriously doubt that there’s anything going on between Jack and Maggie. Like I said, friends.”

“That’s not what Ginger Applewhite said.”

Ginger clerked at Charlie’s Tractor Supply for her owner husband. “What did she say and how did she know?”

Phoebe sighed. “She told me Jack O’Hunk stuck like gum on a boot heel to Maggie at the high school championships last night. Then today he shows up in town and disappears inside her shop. When they come out, he’s not carrying a bag, which means he didn’t purchase anything. So it was personal. Then they wind up having lunch together. What would you call that?”

“Circumstantial evidence.”

“Not to me. It’s love, plain and simple.”

“There’s nothing plain and simple about love.”

Jensen was walking, talking, curvaceous, sexy proof of that statement. He didn’t believe in love, but she’d spent a lot of years pining for a guy who wasn’t worth the powder it would take to blow him to hell. What was plain and simple about that? Or the fact that Grady couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind.

He might have been able to—at least, he’d have had a fighting chance if he hadn’t been dumb enough to kiss her. What was that all about? And could he take it back?

But there was something about the way she’d looked standing on the porch in the moonlight. Something about the vulnerability peeking through the tough outer shell around her when she’d told him about the night Zach died. Something sad and brave that had tugged at him and made him want to fix what ailed her. Even though she’d tried to shrug it off, he knew the bull-riding accident had shaken her up.

He knew it as surely as he knew staying far away from her should be his modus operandi. Hard to do, considering her determination to help. He wished she would just leave it alone.

Phoebe tipped her head to the side as she studied him. “Is that experience talking? Macho baloney? Or are you just a confirmed bachelor?”

“The latter.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“You? By gender definition you can’t be a bachelor. Besides, I thought your motto was So Many Guys, So Little Time.”

She smiled, a dazzling display of full lips and straight white teeth. “You heard that, huh? It’s not that so much as my life is steady and on course. I don’t need a—how can I put this? A nasty speed bump.”

“Me, either.”

Her gaze swung past his shoulder as she looked out the big window on downtown Destiny’s main street. “Don’t look now, but here comes one. A speed bump, I mean.”

Grady half turned and heard a car horn honk as he spotted Jensen hesitate while she waited to see if the truck would stop for her. When it did, she hurried across the street. There was no hesitation as she opened the door to his office and came in. Her green eyes held anger, betrayal and confusion.

He straightened and went to her. “What’s wrong, Jen?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He took her arm and studied her. She was wearing a short-sleeved, light blue denim shirt tucked into jeans. He’d seen her legs in last night’s sundress and somehow covering them seemed even more sexy, hiding her curves yet outlining them at the same time. After the way he’d left her last night, he hadn’t expected she would voluntarily seek him out. His gut tightened and a knot of apprehension pressed on his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m so not okay.” She looked at Phoebe.

“Jensen Stevens, this is one of my deputies, Phoebe Johnson.”

The redhead nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Jen’s polite smile was strained. “Same here.” She looked up at him. “Is there somewhere private we could have this conversation?”

He put his hand at the small of her back. “Let’s go in my office. Hold my calls unless someone’s bleeding or on fire,” he said to his deputy.

“You got it, boss.”

He guided Jen down the hall and felt her trembling. What in the world was wrong? They passed three offices. When they reached the fourth, he turned her inside and closed the door behind them. His gray metal desk was littered with files and scattered papers. The computer monitor was on, displaying data from an unsuccessful search he’d initiated just that morning into the background of Billy Bob Adams. Unfortunately he’d turned up nothing of any use, which was why he’d asked for Jack Riley’s help earlier at lunch. His old friend had been in the army—Special Forces. And a computer expert. Grady figured he could go places a small-town sheriff like himself couldn’t. Especially with equipment from the Stone Age—relatively speaking.

“Sit down, Jen,” he suggested, indicating one of the chairs in front of his desk. The metal frames with plastic-covered seats and backs didn’t invite visitors to stay long. But it was all he could offer.

“I don’t want to sit.”

“Suit yourself.” He took off his hat and placed it on the paperwork strewn across his desk. Then he rested a hip on the corner and folded his arms over his chest. “What can I do for you?”

Her eyes darkened to a shade of hunter green. “You can tell me what my dead husband’s brother has to do with you and your children.”

He felt as if he’d been sucker punched. “What are you talking about?”

“I hope nothing more than Destiny gossip.”

“You’re going to have to be a shade more specific.”

“Someone overheard you talking to Jack Riley at the Road Kill Café a little while ago.”

“Small-town communication system strikes again,” he said grimly. “What about it?”

“The rumor is that Billy Bob Adams is the one suing you for custody of the girls.”

He would feel less cornered if he’d been pinned down by the Hole in the Wall gang. A million things came to mind that he would rather do than have this conversation. With a little two-stepping and a bucket of grease maybe he could slide out of it. “And?”

“Is it true?”

“It’s hearsay, Jen. Not permitted in a court of law.”

“Don’t patronize me, Grady. I know what hearsay is. I also know something felt weird from the time you got those papers.”

“I’ve never been sued before. Of course I acted weird.”

She wasn’t going to let it drop. She was going to force him to tell her something that would rock her world. It was like drop-kicking a kitten, and he was going to hate himself forever for doing it to her.

“Don’t you dare put your cop face on.” She glared at him and tension starched every line and curve of her body. “Billy Bob is Zach’s brother. Only a blood relative would have a chance of success in a case like this or no lawyer worth his salt would waste time with it. I need the truth, Grady. I need to know what’s going on.”

He let out a long breath. “Okay. You want it straight?”

“That’s what I just said. Why would my dead husband’s brother sue for custody of your children?”

“Because he’s their uncle, Jen. Zach is the twins’ biological father.”