Falling for the Sheriff Page 10

  HARVEY TRENT RAISED his bushy eyebrows, shifting in his recliner to glance at Cole. “I understand pool parties and costume parties—there may even have been a toga party in my misspent youth—but what is a Runaway Ranch?”

  Cole laughed; leave it to Alyssa to make her birthday sound as if it were being held at a home for troubled youth. “Not runaway. Runway.”

  Alyssa looked up from the sheets of construction paper she was folding in half for homemade invitations. Cole would be sending out evites, too, but why discourage her creativity? Some of the guests would appreciate the personal touch. “Runways are fancy stages, Paw-paw.”

  Both girls had been asleep by the time Cole got home last night. This morning, he’d called an extremely helpful Brody Davenport, then he’d told the girls about Kate’s idea over brunch. They’d seemed excited, especially Alyssa, who hadn’t stopped talking about it all day. He was glad they were at his parents’ house for Sunday dinner so she had a fresh audience for her fervor.

  The front door banged open, and Mandy barged into the house at her usual full-throttle speed. She went straight for the kitchen, either for something to drink or to plead with her grandmother for a predinner snack. Cole’s brother William trailed her inside, holding a soccer ball and shaking his head.

  “Tag, someone else is it,” he said as he plopped down on the floor with Alyssa. The tallest of the Trent brothers, he looked like a giant next to her. “I should have stayed inside with you. This looks a lot less strenuous than trying to keep up with Mandy-pants.”

  “What’s ‘strenuous,’ Uncle Will?”

  “Short answer, your sister is a handful. What are you working on?”

  “Birthday party invitations. Nana gave me paper and markers. But she didn’t have any sparkly crayons.”

  “You think that’s bad,” Will said, his expression grave, “you should have grown up trying to share a pack of six crayons with two brothers. We didn’t even have purple—we had to color something red, then go over it again in blue.”

  Alyssa’s eyes were wide. “Is that true, Daddy?”

  Cole laughed at his brother’s version of the walking-to-school-uphill-both-ways speech. “No.”

  “Of course not,” Harvey said, sounding affronted. “I made sure they had a roof over their heads, food on the table and adequate crayons.”

  Gayle poked her head around the corner. “I’m about to put the chocolate cake in the oven. Who wants to lick the beaters?”

  Alyssa raced toward the kitchen. When properly motivated, she could move just as fast as her sister.

  The three men turned their attention to the baseball game on television. Jace’s favorite team was playing today, but the youngest Trent sibling wasn’t here to see it. He’d bailed on dinner because of a “hot date.” Cole assumed that meant it was a first date—at most, the second. With Jace’s attention span, the flame often extinguished itself before a third.

  During a commercial, Will told his brother, “Becca Johnston came to the station this week. Have you heard about her idea to raise money for the firemen’s fund?”

  “The bachelor auction?” Cole sighed. He really did need to give her an answer. And, considering the cause, he knew what his reply would be. He just wasn’t ready to surrender yet. “Are you participating?”

  “Sure. I’ll probably drum up a lot of money in pity bids.” Will had said more than once that the worst part of being dumped by his fiancée in a small town was that everyone knew. Hell, half the town had been invited to the wedding that hadn’t taken place.

  “Or,” Cole corrected, “women with discerning taste will bid on a date with you because you have a heroic job, a way with kids and the Trent family good looks.”

  Harvey nodded. “Damn straight. It’s in the genes.”

  “What about you? Going up on the auction block?” Will asked. At Cole’s reluctant nod, his brother smirked. “Wonder how long Becca’s been saving up, waiting for a chance to put her plan into action. You know, I hear she had a wealthy uncle in Turtle who recently passed. Maybe he left her an inheritance.”

  Cole chucked a sofa pillow at him. “You’re making that up.” I hope.

  “Did you just throw part of my decor?” his mother demanded from the doorway.

  William laughed. “Busted.”

  “Quit roughhousing and come to the table,” Gayle said firmly.

  While people passed their plates for servings of roasted chicken and three-bean salad, Gayle praised Will’s decision to do the bachelor auction. “I think the event is a great idea,” she said. “And while I think everyone understands it’s just for charity, not necessarily a venue for romance, who knows what could happen? Maybe you’ll meet a nice girl.”

  “Like Miss Kate,” Alyssa said around a mouthful of chicken. “She’s super nice.”

  “Miss Kate?” Will asked.

  “Daddy’s new friend,” Mandy said. “She just moved here.”

  “She helped me swim better. And she says I’m brave.”

  “And she’s coming to our party! It was her idea to go to a ranch. I get to have a cowgirl birthday!”

  “And she’s gonna teach me to play the piano!” The two girls spoke over the top of each other in their eagerness to extol Kate’s virtues.

  “She sounds really special.” Will leaned back in his chair, regarding his brother with surprise. “I can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing about her.”

  Cole wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d promised Kate not to lie outright about their relationship, not to embellish it to a point where his girls became confused. He’d already skirted the boundaries of honesty by cuddling with her in front of Becca Johnston and her festival-committee minions.

  But holding Kate didn’t feel like deception. It felt like heaven. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to walk away from her last night without kissing her. She probably had no idea how alluring she’d looked, bathed in the moonlight, the breeze toying with her hair the way he’d wanted to do. Even her outfit of robe and fuzzy slippers, which had been more adorable than sexy, had generated lustful thoughts because she’d looked ready for bed. And thinking about bed in relation to Kate...

  “Cole?” Will snapped his fingers. “Damn, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

  “Uncle Will! We aren’t supposed to say the D word,” Alyssa chided.

  “Except when beavers build them,” Mandy said.

  Gayle berated her son for language at the table and Mandy asked her grandfather how animals like beavers and birds learned to build dams and nests in the first place, leaving Cole to his own thoughts. Which were dominated by Kate.

  Maybe Will was right. I do have it bad. If he was this centered on Kate after only a week, how much worse would it be once he finally did kiss her? Because they were going to kiss eventually.

  Weren’t they? He understood that she needed to take things slowly, but there was no mistaking the way she’d looked at him on her front porch. She wanted him. Whatever else she felt—and he imagined it was complicated—desire was somewhere in the mix. That gave him hope.

  Knowing that he’d see her again tomorrow, for Alyssa’s trial piano lesson was a kind of wonderful agony. He couldn’t wait to be around her, appreciated every instance of getting to know her better, but it was difficult not to press for confirmation that she was attracted to him, too. Do not rush her.

  No matter what his instincts urged him to do in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t risk scaring her away. It had been so long since a woman had mattered to him like this, since he’d entertained thoughts of an actual relationship. This romance stuff was trickier than he remembered.

  * * *

  THANK GOD FOR triads and arpeggios. Losing herself in the familiar patterns of the keyboard and demonstrating major chords to Alyssa, Kate was almost able to forget that Cole wa
s sitting in on the class, watching from the chair in the corner.

  Okay, forget wasn’t the right word. He had too much magnetism for that. But she’d stopped glancing in his direction every three seconds, so that was progress.

  She’d agreed to his request to monitor the intro class grudgingly, which was unprofessional. With any other parent, she would have encouraged it. Quietly observing the lesson allowed a parent to not only get an idea of what they’d be paying for but to hear Kate’s advice on hand positioning and practice times, which they could reinforce at home.

  Cole had said they didn’t even own a piano, although Alyssa toyed with the one at her grandmother’s. He wanted to gauge his daughter’s interest and see if the purchase of a midpriced electric keyboard was warranted. The feel wasn’t precisely the same and not all keyboards had the touch sensitivity for volume control, but Alyssa could start learning notes and practicing rhythm.

  At the moment, the girl’s expression was filled with pride over locating middle C and playing it with the E and G.

  “And that’s a chord,” Kate congratulated her. “Now let’s try a scale.”

  When Cole and Alyssa had first arrived, the three of them chatted about music and the girl had expressed skepticism that all songs could possibly come from eight basic notes.

  “But they can be put together in endless variations,” Kate had said.

  “What’s ‘variation’?”

  “It’s when you can do an activity one way,” Cole had explained, “but there are a bunch of other creative ways to do it, too.”

  Kate’s cheeks had warmed as her thoughts took a decidedly nonmusical direction. It had been a long time since she’d had to consider even basic...activity. Much less variations. Thank goodness Cole’s attention had been on his daughter. If he’d glanced in Kate’s direction, her face really would have gone up in flames. He’d gone on to illustrate his point with a painting example, reminding Alyssa that people could finger-paint or use a brush or, in the case of his repainting his daughters’ room, even a roller.

  “How was that, Miss Kate?”

  Kate blinked, realizing her pupil had attempted a scale and she’d missed it because she’d been too busy thinking about Cole. And variations. “Um...you’re off to a fantastic start, but we all get better with practice.” Which begged the question, how rusty did a person’s skills become after two years with no practice? The mind boggled.

  Knock it off! She really needed to stop thinking about sex. Unfortunately, she doubted that would be possible until she got Cole out of the house. She’d had trouble sleeping after he left last night, tossing and turning. When she’d finally fallen into an exhausted slumber, it had been deep. This morning, she’d awakened with no memory of what she’d dreamed. But given the mental flashes she had whenever she looked at him, she could take an educated guess. The sooner he left, the sooner she would stop having those R-rated flashes.

  Had half an hour passed yet? She discreetly checked her watch. Eighteen minutes? Hell. She was already feeling so high-strung that she feared what she might say or do in the next twelve.

  She reached down for the bag next to the piano, wishing she’d left the sheet music she’d purchased in the car. That would have given her an excuse to exit the room and clear her head, or to send Cole away for a few minutes. “So now that you know what the eight basic notes are, I’ll show you what they look like on paper. Once you learn to read music—”

  “Hey, Mom!” Luke hollered a greeting as he entered the house. “Is Aly still here?”

  Gram’s voice was lower, but Kate could make out her reproachful words. “Well, obviously she is. Sheriff Trent’s car is parked right out front. But I thought I told you we weren’t going to interrupt their lesson?” It had been Gram’s idea to take Luke out for ice cream earlier so Kate could concentrate on her work.

  On my work, or on the sheriff? Because once regular lessons started, Kate didn’t imagine Gram planned to vacate the house for all of them.

  Despite Gram’s valid reprimand, Kate was grateful for her son’s interruption. Alyssa hopped off the piano bench and ran out to say hello.

  “Maybe that’s a good stopping point for today,” Kate said, looking in Cole’s general direction without actually meeting his eyes. “Let her practice chords and scales for a few days, see if her enthusiasm wanes.”

  “Okay.” He stood. “But I wouldn’t bet on it. She may be quieter than her sister, but she’s equally stubborn. Family trait. When we get invested in something, we don’t give up easily.”

  She recalled what he’d told her last time he’d been here, that he was a patient man. It was a seductive quality. Not only did Kate appreciate his control, it was heady that he considered her worth waiting for. Yet she couldn’t in good conscience encourage him. Potentially wicked dreams aside, she couldn’t say when, if ever, she might be ready to be more than his friend. Or his daughter’s piano teacher.

  Holding back a sigh, she exited the music room. The kids stood in the hall, where Alyssa was commenting on Luke’s hair being “all different.” He ran a hand self-consciously over the new cut. When the stylist had finished yesterday, Kate had been surprised at how much older he looked. He’d had the same shaggy mop, give or take a few inches, for years. He’s growing up. And Damon wouldn’t be here to see it. To teach him how to drive or to give him advice on dating.

  Gone were the days when Kate woke up unsure how she’d make it out of bed in the morning. She’d made it through the worst of grieving her husband. But it still caught her at odd moments. She could go for days on end without thinking about him, then bam. And the past week had been worse than usual.

  She knew it was because of Cole. Was it the tangled emotional response of finding another man attractive that dredged so many memories of Damon to the surface, or was it the men’s shared profession making her dwell on her days as a cop’s wife? How could she ever be with a man who did the same job without being constantly reminded of Damon?

  “Mom? You okay?” Luke peered at her with concern, then immediately raised his gaze to Cole, who stood behind her. The accusation in Luke’s expression was blatant. Kate was on the verge of tears; clearly her son blamed Cole.

  Mercifully, Alyssa steered the conversation to her birthday party, asking Luke to help with the face painting.

  “What about birthday gifts?” Luke asked. “Know what you want?”

  “A pony.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to afford one of those, even if I help Gram weed the garden all week and offer to mow the front yard.”

  Cole reached out, cupping Kate’s shoulder and she almost jumped. “Thank you, again, for suggesting the party venue. Both girls are very excited.”

  “You’re welcome.” Did it make her crazy that she had simultaneous urges to pull away from him and lean into his touch? “Jazz thinks the whole thing sounds like fun. She’s going to provide some funky accessories and stuff from the clearance rack of her boutique, and we’re meeting at a big arts and craft store one county over to buy supplies for ‘photo shoot’ backdrops. I just hope Becca doesn’t find out we’re working on that instead of floats for the parade. Spending time on nonfestival projects this late in June may actually be against the town bylaws.”

  He grinned down at her. “Rebel. The good news is, if you get arrested, I happen to know where the keys to the jail are.” He hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but then shook his head. “Alyssa, we should get home and make sure Mandy hasn’t driven Nana crazy by now.”

  “Okay. See you this weekend, Luke.”

  “Bye, Aly.” He high-fived her.

  Kate expected the little girl to head toward the front of the house. Instead, she whirled around and threw herself against Kate’s waist in a hug. “I love you, Miss Kate.”

  It was hardly the first time a kid had professed that
sentiment. Heck, Kate herself had said the words to favorite teachers and piano instructors when she was a girl. Don’t read too much into it. Kids were more open and spontaneous with their affections. Just because Alyssa had blurted an impulsive “I love you” didn’t mean she was mentally auditioning Kate for the role of stepmother.

  Trying not to blow the moment out of proportion, Kate responded the same way she did with kids at school. She squeezed the little girl back. “Love you, too.”

  Once the Trents had gone, Kate slumped on the couch, feeling drained. “Anyone want to watch a DVD?”

  “I was about to take a bath,” Gram said, “but you two can start without me.”

  Kate turned to her son. “You interested in a movie, or would you rather play online with Sarah?”

  “Isn’t that your friend from in town?” Gram asked. “She’s pretty.”

  Luke jammed his hands into his pockets, staring intently at the ground. “I guess.”

  “You two saw Sarah while you were in town?”

  Her son nodded, still addressing the floor. “She was in line with her brother at the ice cream parlor. He’s old enough to drive.”

  It appeared the lively mood Luke had been in since volunteering with Rick had finally worn off. “Did the two of you argue or something?”

  “No. Can I go to my room?”

  “Sure.” Kate was taken aback. He didn’t want to watch TV or play video games?

  She gave him a few minutes to himself, then went to investigate. It didn’t matter so much that he told her what was wrong, just that he knew he could tell her. She knocked on the door, waiting for the muffled reply before she pushed it ajar. He was stretched across his bed on his stomach; he pulled out one earbud, his expression quizzical.

  “Hey,” she said. “I realize I’ve said this before and that I run the risk of crossing into lame territory, but you know you can talk to me right? It may be hard to believe that I was once a teenager, too, now that I’m so old—”

  “Ancient,” he said with the ghost of a smile.

  “Right. But I might be able to identify more than you think.” Back in Houston, he probably would have kicked her out of his room by now. But here, he didn’t have Bobby and his cronies to confide in, so he might be desperate enough to take her up on her offer.