“Ohh, what did you bring us?” Malia rubbed her hands together as she eyed the box in North’s hands. She was far too accustomed to gifts from these two whenever they visited.
“A butter cake.” Faith was still staring at Piper. “My brother’s favorite.” She paused a beat. “I’ll get you the recipe if you like, Piper.”
Piper blinked, feeling targeted at that not-so-veiled offer. As though Piper might have a reason for wanting the recipe for Hale’s favorite cake. As though there was a reason she would want to master any of Hale’s favorite recipes.
Of course there wasn’t a reason, but that didn’t stop his sister from looking at her as though she was sizing her up for a bridal gown.
North set the box on the counter. Malia immediately peeled back the lid to eye inside it.
“Where’s Hale?” Faith asked, setting her handbag down.
“He’s outside grilling some steaks.”
North nodded and headed toward the back door as though that information had been an invitation for him to head outside.
Piper watched him for a moment, feeling a stab of nervousness at the intent look she had observed on his face. She knew the two men could hardly be called friends, but they had reached a peace of sorts. She’d hate that to end because of her.
North considered himself a guardian to her and Malia. Never mind that she was an adult and didn’t require a guardian. He was going to have something to say on the subject of her staying here. She had no doubt of that. She hoped he didn’t mention it to her brother. She was hoping that Cruz never had to know.
She turned after North and started to follow. Her intervention might be necessary. Faith grabbed her arm and pulled her down into a chair. “Oh, no, you don’t. Let the guys talk. And it will give us a chance to catch up.”
Catch up? Why did that ring so ominously? Why did it feel like she was about to suffer an interrogation? As Faith grilled her, North would be outside conducting his own cross-examination. It was mortifying, really.
“So. How long are you staying with Hale?” To the point.
“I’m looking for a place now.” She glanced at her sister, who was already cutting into the cake without even an invitation to do so. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“I hope we never leave,” Malia proclaimed, licking glaze off her fingers. “I like it here. Hale is a great cook. He’s making rib eyes.”
Piper frowned at her sister. This was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. Malia getting too comfortable and liking it here too much. And when had she started calling him Hale instead of Sheriff Walters?
“So what made you decide to move?” Faith asked, her voice far too innocent. “Last time we talked you were adamant that you couldn’t afford any place else.”
“Well . . . your brother offered me a job.”
Faith stared at her, her unblinking gaze looking closely. To resist fidgeting beneath that scrutiny, Piper turned and went back to work on the salad she was prepping to go with the steaks Hale was grilling. God, even in her head that sounded hopelessly domestic and her heart gave a stupid little pang of longing.
“Yes. I heard that. I didn’t know that Hale had officially opened Doris’s position for applicants.”
Piper smiled at her noncommittally. From conversations with Doris, she definitely didn’t think he’d interviewed other candidates. Clearly he had done her a favor by offering her the job without even knowing if she could do it.
He’d stepped in like some kind of savior, giving her a job and then pulling them out of that hellhole where they’d been living and giving them a place to stay. Even if he had been responsible for getting her fired, he’d gone above and beyond to repair the damage.
Malia’s phone started to ring. She glanced at it and dropped her cake, hurrying out of the kitchen. She could be heard diving into high-pitched chatter as she vanished into her room.
The instant her sister was out of sight, Faith wasted no time. “What is going on with you and my brother?”
Piper winced, tempted to call Malia back into the kitchen just to spare her. She cleared her throat. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Faith waved airily. “Well . . . it looks like y’all are shacking up and playing house.”
Piper glanced at the half-assembled salad before her. “Yes, but we’re not shacking up. It’s not like that.” At least, not since she moved in here. They had been perfectly respectable in their interaction with each other.
“It’s not?” Faith looked skeptical.
She jerked her head back to where her sister had disappeared. “I have a sister. I wouldn’t do that . . .”
“Please.” Faith rolled her eyes. “I’m not suggesting you and my brother are being inappropriate around Malia. But I know the power of attraction. The minute North moved next door to me, it was inevitable. I can see that now. He and I were destined to hit the sheets.”
Piper gaped.
Faith nodded and continued. “Maybe you can’t see it yet. Maybe my brother can’t.”
Was Faith telling her she should sleep with her brother? Her mouth sagged open momentarily before she recovered herself. Really, it wasn’t like she was some miss-ish female. “I—I . . .” she stammered, at a complete loss.
“And you’re a good sister, Piper, but you deserve your own life and happiness.”
She inwardly cringed. No. No, she didn’t.
Faith went on, her tone emphatic and resolute. “What goes on behind closed doors has nothing to do with Malia. Don’t pass up a chance for happiness, Piper. I think you and Hale could be good for each other.”
She shook her head, almost wishing that were true . . . that it could be that easy. “We are not you and North.”
“Well, maybe you’re not committed to each other yet . . . my brother has his hang-ups about relationships, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot all about that. He just needs the right woman.” She looked meaningfully at Piper.
“Well, I would be surprised.” Piper shook her head. He’d been very clear that he didn’t do relationships.
“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be a bad thing if I was your sister-in-law.”
Piper chuckled and then killed the sound. She didn’t need to encourage Faith’s outrageous ideas. “As tempting as that is, I think you shouldn’t get any ideas. I’m not marrying your brother.”
A slight sound caught her attention. Turning, her gaze collided with Hale’s. He stood in the opening to the kitchen, holding a tray of steaks. North stood beside him wearing a decidedly unamused expression.
“Ah . . .” She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide.
“Steaks are ready,” he volunteered.
“Well, we won’t keep you from your dinner.” Faith hopped off the bar stool where she sat and picked up her purse.
“Would you like to stay?” Piper invited.
“No, no. We didn’t mean to crash your dinner. You didn’t plan on two extra people. Enjoy your steaks. Just save room for butter cake.” She motioned to the cake Malia had already helped herself to.
“Thank you for the cake. It’s my favorite,” Hale commented.
“I know, bubbie.” She grinned. “That’s why I made it.”
“What inspired this?” Suspicion gleamed in his eyes. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Can’t a sister just bake her brother a cake?”
He stared at her for a long beat, those gray eyes missing nothing. “Doris told you Piper was here.” Statement of fact, not a question.
Faith sniffed. “I’m glad I have someone to keep me apprised of what’s going on. My friend here doesn’t tell me anything.” She cut an accusing look to Piper. “And neither do you, Hale.”
“If there was anything you needed to know, I promise I would tell you.”
An awkward silence fell. North didn’t look too happy and she imagined his protectiveness was warring with the fact that these two were siblings and naturally adversarial and he knew he shou
ld probably take a step back when they were sparring.
“Don’t let your dinner get cold,” Faith declared cheerfully, and came at Piper for a hug.
North followed suit, murmuring near her ear, “You call me if you need anything. Don’t feel like you have to stay here. You can crash with me and Faith anytime.” He pulled back with his hands still on her shoulders, staring down at her with deliberation, letting his words sink in.
She nodded and sent a quick glance to Hale as he received a hug from Faith. He watched her and North without expression.
“Sure,” she agreed even though the last thing she would ever do was move in with North and Faith. She couldn’t even imagine it. They were on the verge of getting married. She wouldn’t dream of invading their little love nest.
There was a brief handshake between the two guys, still as awkward as ever. Just because they tolerated each other didn’t mean they would ever be good friends.
Then they were gone and it was just Hale and Piper, alone in the kitchen.
She released a breath, glad Faith and North were gone. She knew they were well meaning, but it was a little overwhelming with Faith’s assumptions and prying.
Hale set the tray of steaks on the counter. Curls of savory steam drifted up from the meat. “So you’re not interested in marrying me, huh?”
She blinked in mortification even though she detected humor in his voice. “I know that must be a relief to you,” she said wryly. “To know that I have no designs on you. You don’t need to lock your bedroom door at nights.”
He chuckled lightly. “That is a comforting reassurance.”
The mood lightened and she felt herself smiling. She stepped to the side, reaching for the drawer that held the salad forks just as he moved in for the same drawer.
His chest collided with her back and they both stilled as though burned at the contact. It was their first close contact since she’d started to work for him and it gave her heart palpitations. Did he feel it, too, or was she the only one who suddenly couldn’t drag air into her lungs?
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course he wasn’t affected the way she was. He was a grown man with plenty of experience.
She tried to act normal, opening the drawer and taking out the forks. She gripped them tightly and rested her clenched hands on the counter.
Hale didn’t step away and she felt his breath rustling her hair.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, turning her face sideways, glimpsing him from one eye. Even that partial view did nothing to disguise the breadth of him, the wall of masculinity at her back.
He didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
“Hale,” she whispered. She didn’t know what she was saying in that utterance. She didn’t know what she wanted. For him to stay put and touch her? Kiss her? Or back away and leave her alone?
His hand came down on the back of her head, his fingers dragging through her loosened hair, sliding down the long strands. “Like silk,” he whispered. “All of you . . .”
A sigh escaped her. It shouldn’t have felt so erotic—God knew he had touched her far more intimately—but it did. It felt erotic and tender. Like he was branding her with that stroke of his hand. A shiver rolled through her and she started to lean back into him—
“Hey, guys! Is dinner ready? It smells amazing.”
At Malia’s words, they quickly moved apart, Piper dipping the forks into the salad and tossing them as he slid open the drawer and removed a knife.
“Yes, can you set some plates on the table?” Thankfully her voice gave nothing away. It reflected none of her turmoil.
None of her longing for the impossible.
Twenty
Piper pulled up in front of the sheriff’s department five minutes before eight. Hale had left before her this morning, but not before making a pot of coffee and leaving eggs warming on the stove for them. She expelled a heavy breath. This wasn’t good. For God’s sake, he cooked as well as he kissed. Who knew he could be so domestic? That living with him could feel so very right?
It was dangerous. She could get used to this kind of life. She snorted and glanced at herself in the rearview mirror, staring at herself skeptically. Who she was kidding? She had never lived like this. Of course she could get used to it. He was spoiling her. And she had to get away. She had to get away while she still could.
She planned on using her lunch hour to go view a rental house nearby. The owner had already emailed her back and said she was available any time today to show the property. The sooner Piper got her own place, the better. The sooner she would stop wanting things she could never have.
She climbed out of her car and headed across the parking lot. The tiny hairs on her nape prickled and she paused, looking around. She didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary. Hale’s Bronco was already here, sitting in his designated spot in the parking lot. There were several cars occupying the lot and the shopping center across the street was busy, a steady flow of people entering both the doughnut shop and coffeehouse. There were a lot of people around. Any one of them could be watching her. It didn’t have to mean anything.
Growing up the way she had left her with a particularly keen sense of awareness. When there were always questionable people around, people who would just as soon hurt you as look at you, you needed to say on guard. You needed to duck before the blow came. If at all possible, you wanted a head start if you had to run. It could be the difference between life and death . . . or at the minimum, the difference between a busted lip or black eye.
Situational awareness was everything, and right now hers was going off with a vengeance.
Shaking off the feeling, she entered the building and took her place behind the desk. Doris was still working alongside her. She planned to go another month. Molly warned Piper this was her way of giving Piper plenty of time to plan a grand retirement celebration.
“We have people in the holding cells already. Apparently there was a big party last night that didn’t finish until this morning.” Doris leaned in to share, her eyes wide with delight behind the lenses of her glasses. The woman might have worked the majority of her life in this department, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy gossiping about the antics of those unlucky enough to land themselves on the wrong side of the law. “And this is only because the neighbors called when a fight broke out that spilled into the yard and woke up the entire neighborhood. At 4 a.m.”
“Wow. Sunday night parties.” Piper shook her head. She supposed her mom and dad partied on Sunday nights, too. Her earliest memories were always of a house full of people, drinking and laughing and fighting. It had seemed fairly ongoing. But it had been a long time since she was exposed to that type of life. Working here, she would once again witness evidence of all manner of vice.
Doris shook her head. “Sundays are for church, football and pot roast.”
Piper watched as Briggs led a young guy out from the holding cell, guiding him into the vacant chair positioned by his desk. He’d been beat to hell and back. One eye was so badly swollen that you could hardly see his eyeball. Dried blood trailed from his nose down his chin, staining his shirt. That nose looked horribly misshapen and enlarged. Clearly it was broken. She wondered if maybe he shouldn’t be at a hospital.
Her gaze lifted toward Hale’s office, wondering if he had seen these new arrivals.
A woman walked in just then carrying a delicious-looking Bundt cake, beautifully iced beneath a glass dome. The only thing prettier than the cake might be the woman herself. She was wearing a very vintage-style dress. Tight bodice and flared skirt with a tiny belt that gleamed blue against the back gingham pattern. Her blond hair was swept into a tight ponytail that bobbed as she walked.
“Good morning, Doris.” Her voice had a singsong quality to it.
She set the cake on the counter with a flourish. “This is for Hale.”
Well, okay, then. Hale. Not Sheriff Walters.
“I’ll be sure he gets it, Hannah.”
The blonde scanned t
he office area beyond Doris and Piper. “Is he busy right now?”
“He’s in a meeting.”
“Oh.” She pushed out her bottom lip in a pout. “You’ll be sure to tell him I made this for him.” She stroked the glass dome in lazy circles with her perfectly manicured nails. Pink just like her lipstick.
“Of course, dear. Tell your mama I said hello.”
“Will do.” Her gaze shifted and settled on Piper. “And who is this?” The question was put out mildly, but there was something there. A decided chill that wasn’t present when she spoke to Doris.
“This is Piper, our new dispatcher.”
“Oh.” She looked Piper up and down, her gaze lingering on her solid white button-down blouse. Circa Target $6.99. She wore a pair of teal blue pants, also from Target, to match. “I didn’t realize Hale was hiring. Maybe I should apply?”
“Maybe,” Doris said brightly. “Are you looking for work?”
She trailed a pink-nailed finger along her pearl necklace. “Well, no, I don’t need to work. Daddy wouldn’t hear of it, but if Hale needs help, I’d be willing to do anything for him.”
“I’m sure you would.”
Hannah laughed and then fluttered her fingers. “Well, I have to run. I’m having coffee with friends.”
“Toodles,” Doris called after. Turning to Piper, she said with a frown, “Did I also mention you’re the gatekeeper between Hale and the women of this town?” She nodded in the direction the blonde had just departed.
“What?”
“They drop in all the time. Cakes, muffins, scones, cookies, brownies . . .” She waved accusingly at the cake. “I’ve gained thirty pounds since he took over after his daddy.”
Women brought him baked goods? Piper glared at the cake, wanting nothing more than to chuck it in the trash. “What do they hope to gain—”
“Hale. In their beds. Even better if they can get a ring out of him. That’s the grand prize. Well, besides the obvious . . .” Her hand gestured to somewhere below the waist.
“Doris!”
“What? I’m not blind? He’s a fine-looking man. The best to offer in this town and every woman under the age of ninety wants to see what he’s packing under that uniform.” She sniffed. “Not me, mind you. Once you change someone’s diapers that tends to take the edge off that curiosity for good.”