Falling for the Sheriff Page 12

“I get your point.” Kate held up a hand. “But maybe save the gruesome examples of death and catastrophe for when we’re not at a birthday party for six-year-olds?”

  “Right.” Crystal ducked her head, her expression abashed.

  The six-year-olds in question had obviously been alerted it was time for gifts and cake. Children began swarming from all directions, putting Kate at the base of an uphill stampede. She joined the migration, glad for an excuse to end the conversation with Crys.

  But even though she’d escaped her friend for the moment, Crystal’s words stuck with her. We can’t let that stop us from living. That’s not what Kate was doing...was it? She’d met with six potential students and their parents this week and was seeing progress in Luke. Life was good.

  Yet she couldn’t deny those moments when she yearned for more.

  With not one but two guests of honor, there were a ton of presents to unwrap. Kate and Luke gave Mandy a board game that had been one of Luke’s favorites when he was younger and Alyssa a pink metronome. Kate was surprised when, after the girls opened those two boxes, Luke turned to the gift table and picked up two very tiny packages in unevenly taped construction paper.

  “These are from me,” he added.

  When Kate saw that he’d given them each a chocolate bar, the same brand he’d stolen, she didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. On the other side of the table, Cole’s eyebrows shot skyward as he stared the boy down.

  Luke grinned. “Bought and paid for with my own money. You can ask Rick.”

  By unspoken agreement, the girls saved their dad’s presents for last. Mandy tore through the packaging and was already putting on her new shin guards by the time Alyssa got to her final gift, a soft stuffed horse with a very sweet expression. She let out a squeal of delight but then mock-scolded, “It was supposed to be a real pony, Daddy.”

  “You’re out of luck on the pony front,” Cole told her, “but there is something else at the bottom.”

  “Sparkly crayons!” Alyssa came out of her seat and ran around the table to hug him. Over the top of her head, Cole’s gaze met Kate’s. Thank you, he mouthed. She wasn’t sure she deserved the credit—he’d decided for himself not to go with a creepy doll, and all she’d done was nudge him in an appropriate direction—but the gratitude in his eyes left her feeling tingly and appreciated.

  After the gifts, it was time to sing “Happy Birthday to You” and blow out the candles. Then Cole and Kate were planning to duck away and get the next activity ready while the kids ate.

  The paintball activity had been Kate’s suggestion. It was how her art-teacher friend celebrated the last day of elementary school with graduating fifth graders. Kate hadn’t been sure if Cole—or Brody—would agree since the mess factor was intense. But the paint was washable, and neither man had been fazed. Brody said ranch work was always a mess; this would have the added benefit of being colorful. While Kate and Cole prepared the ammunition for the battle, Jazz and Cole’s mom would distribute old T-shirts to use as protective smocks.

  Cole snagged a paper plate with a slice of cake on it and came toward her. “Want a bite?” he offered.

  “No, thanks.” His being this close put a quivery feeling in her stomach. Needing to focus on something else, she watched happy kids scarf down cake and ice cream. “So far, the party seems like an unbridled success. If you’ll excuse the horse pun.”

  “The girls are having a blast. I owe you big time. Let me buy you dinner sometime this week?”

  Dinner, as in a date? “I... Jazz did just as much work as I did. Possibly more.”

  “Good point. Brody and Jazz should join us. Will you find out what night works best for them?”

  She blinked, startled to find that she suddenly had plans for a double date. But she couldn’t think of a reason to say no that didn’t sound completely ridiculous. Then say yes. “All right.” Crystal would be thrilled.

  Cole looked pretty happy about it, too. “I can’t wait.” He grinned down at her, his gorgeous blue eyes crinkling at the corners, melting away the last of her reservations. And most of her ability to think straight.

  Weren’t they supposed to be doing something right now? Jazz had helped put together a very thorough agenda, and Kate didn’t recall a time allotment for “moon over the sheriff.”

  “Balloons,” she blurted.

  He nodded. “Let’s get to work.”

  Their version of paintball was to put paint in water balloons. According to the emailed instructions from her friend, if they tried to fill the balloons ahead of time, they risked the paint hardening. Brody had given them use of an outdoor sink behind the barn, and all the supplies were waiting for them there. With a couple of water bottles and funnels, they would fill half the balloons with lime green paint, for Mandy’s team, and the other half with bright purple, for Alyssa’s. When there were no balloons left to throw, a panel of judges would look at the color splotches on each child to decide which team got the most hits.

  There were large rubber buckets on either side of the sink where they would gently deposit the filled balloons. While they worked, Jazz would keep the kids busy with a game of musical chairs. Afterward, children would report to the barn to be divided into teams and collect their ammo. Kate put some paint in an empty bottle, then turned the spigot to add water. Then she capped it and shook vigorously.

  “You want to be very careful filling the balloons,” Kate stressed as she handed Cole one of the funnels. “If you don’t use enough water, they won’t pop on impact. But too much and—”

  “This isn’t my first time, sweetheart. Trust me to know what I’m doing.”

  She responded to the mischief in his tone with a wicked smile. “Even an experienced man can benefit from a few pointers.”

  “Fair enough.” His eyes locked on hers. “But give a guy the chance to show you what he can do first.”

  The air in her lungs was suddenly too thick to breathe...which maybe accounted for how light-headed she felt. Having played piano for most of her life, she’d developed pretty good manual dexterity. Yet now her fingers were clumsy. It took two attempts to knot the balloon in her hand. She willed herself to concentrate. After half a dozen balloons, she established a cadence. Fill, tie, bucket. Fill, tie, bucket. Fill, tie—sploosh.

  Startled by the sound, she glanced over at the exact moment Cole swore. A splatter of neon green was dripping from the center of his T-shirt toward the hem. Both of his hands were stained; he looked like the lead suspect in a leprechaun murder. Laughter bubbled up inside her, and she bit her lip, trying in vain to contain it.

  His own lips twitched. “Don’t you dare say I told you so.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.” Stifled giggles fizzed in the back of her throat like carbonation bubbles. “It would be redundant.”

  He rinsed his hands in the sink and splashed water at the splotch on his shirt, smearing it into a much bigger mess.

  “And petty,” she added. “And uncharitable. Hey, Cole?”

  He swiveled his head toward her, eyes narrowed in warning.

  “Told you so.”

  “That does it.” He cupped a double handful of water and advanced on her.

  Laughing uncontrollably, she scrambled back, forgetting about the bucket of balloons behind her.

  Cole lunged just as she wobbled. He caught her waist with wet fingers, spinning her toward the side of the barn and away from the paint-filled balloons. “That would have been bad. On the other hand,” he said as he righted her, “you would have had the most colorful butt on the ranch.”

  She’d been enjoying their playfulness, but now, pressed between him and the barn behind her, the moment changed. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her breath hitched. Hunger that felt at once familiar and alien tightened inside her.

  Trying to joke away the nerve-racking desi
re, she said, “A gentleman wouldn’t comment on a woman’s butt.”

  There was no humor in his eyes. “I don’t suppose a gentleman would kiss you, either?”

  Her brain failed. She couldn’t find words for a reply. So who needs words? What she needed—what she wanted—was the man in front of her.

  Lacing her hands behind his neck, she tugged him toward her and stretched up to meet him. His muscles were bunched with deliciously masculine tension, as if he were fighting the urge to take control of their kiss. Her lips brushed his, tentatively. It had been years. She was only half certain she remembered how to do this. Yet she knew Cole was the right man to refresh her memory.

  She kissed him again, and her confidence amplified. So did the need spiraling through her.

  “Kate.” His voice was a ragged murmur. He pulled back slightly, studying her face as if looking for the visual confirmation that this was okay.

  She could only imagine what he saw in her expression, but it must have been encouraging. His eyes darkened, and his hand cradled the back of her head. His lips claimed hers in a hot, openmouthed kiss that—

  “Daddy?”

  Cole recoiled so quickly it was pure luck he didn’t topple the bucket of water balloons.

  Oh, no. No, no, no.

  Kate turned her head and saw not just one but both twins. Their matching jaw-dropped gapes made them more identical than Kate had ever seen them.

  “You were kissing Miss Kate,” Mandy said slowly, as if still trying to process what had happened.

  You and me both, kid.

  Cole glanced from them to Kate. “We, uh—”

  “They’re in love!” Alyssa let out a whoop of excitement that debunked the myth of her being the quiet twin. “This is better than a pony. Can I be the flower girl at the wedding?”

  “What?” Kate’s voice came out in a horrified squeak. “Honey, no, it—”

  “Why do you get to be the flower girl?” Mandy demanded. “What about me?”

  “You don’t even like dresses! Weddings are fancy!”

  “There is not going to be a wedding,” Cole boomed, trying to be heard over all three females.

  “Er...everything all right here?” Jazz asked, rounding the barn. “The girls were antsy to know when we could get started, so we were coming to check your progress.” Her tone was apologetic. “They ran ahead of me. And then there was yelling.”

  Kate faked a smile, although her stomach was churning. There were a lot of ways her first kiss in years could have gone wrong; this wasn’t one of the ways she’d imagined. “The good news is we have a bunch of balloons ready. Maybe you can start organizing the troops while we finish up the last few.”

  “Sure.” Jazz put an arm around each girl. “C’mon, you two, why don’t you go select your teams?” She ushered them to the open pastureland where the battle would take place, and Kate squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could go back in time.

  “I’m not sorry I kissed you,” Cole said, sounding a touch defensive.

  She cracked one eye open. “Me, neither.”

  “Really?” A smile lit his face.

  “Really. Although,” she added wryly, “in retrospect, this might not have been the perfect place for it.” Regardless of the damage control he’d have to do—no doubt Alyssa would want to start drawing wedding invitations with her sparkly crayons—today had been a revelation. A part of herself Kate thought might have been lost forever had reawakened with gusto. Whatever else happened, knowing that made her feel more like a whole person than she’d been in a long time.

  Cole snickered, and she raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

  “We have matching blobs.” He nodded downward, and she realized that his green paint was now smeared across her top, too. Thank goodness the paint was washable.

  “Think we can fill the rest of these without mishap?” she asked.

  “I’ll be extra careful,” he promised. “But...all things considered, I’m glad the other one exploded.”

  Grinning, she got back to work. Brody and Will began lugging buckets of balloons to where the kids were waiting. They stood in two groups, calling good-natured taunts to each other. Well, mostly good-natured.

  Kate was surprised to see Luke sitting off by himself instead of lined up with the others. Granted, he was older than most of the other guests, but she couldn’t believe he would pass up the chance to hurl paint-filled water balloons. As Cole explained the rules—and consequences for rule breakers—to the teams, she crossed the grass to her son.

  “Hey,” she said. “You don’t want to participate?”

  “Does it look like I want to participate?”

  She drew back, startled by his hostile tone. “What’s wrong?”

  He stared at the dirt, nonresponsive.

  “I thought you were having fun today,” she prodded.

  “That was before I saw you sucking face with the sheriff.”

  Chapter Eight

  Gram glanced up from the kitchen table, where she was working a jigsaw puzzle. “How was the...?” Her question trailed off when Luke stomped past the kitchen and into his room. A moment later, the door slammed.

  Kate winced, wondering if she should go after him. And say what? At the party, she’d taken a stern approach, reminding him that she was his mother and that disagreeing with her actions didn’t entitle him to speak to her disrespectfully. Recognizing that his mood was volatile, she’d told Cole they were going to duck out early. The girls had lots of other people to keep them entertained, and paintball had been the last activity on the itinerary anyway. She’d hugged Jazz goodbye and offered to come back later to help with clean up. Jazz had told her it wasn’t necessary, that Susan and Crystal were going to pitch in and then the three sisters planned to order pizza and have a movie marathon.

  In the car, Kate had softened her approach, acknowledging that she and Luke had never discussed the possibility of her dating and telling him she completely understood if it was a difficult adjustment for him. She’d tried to get him to discuss what he was feeling, but he’d said thinking about it was gross enough without rehashing it aloud. So she’d decided to give him time.

  “What was that about?” Gram asked. “He was in a good enough mood when the two of you left.”

  “Oh, Gram.” Tears pricked Kate’s eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Her grandmother crossed the room to hug her. “You’re not the first mom to feel that way, and you certainly won’t be the last. Want me to make you some tea?”

  Not if it was caffeinated. She was so keyed up already, caffeine would send her through the roof. “Cole and I kissed. Luke saw it.”

  “Ah.” Her grandmother was silent a moment. “Something stronger than tea, then?”

  Kate gave her a watery smile. “Yes, please.”

  Gram went to a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of what had been Grandpa Jim’s favorite whiskey. She filled a couple of glasses with ice, and the two of them went out to the porch where they could speak without being overheard.

  “Thank you.” Kate tucked her legs under her on the swing and took a cautious sip of the whiskey. The first swallow burned, but the second one was smooth.

  “I have a confession to make,” Gram said, taking a nip of her own whiskey. “When Cole announced you’d made plans together, on the very first day you were introduced, I was skeptical. It seemed too fast for my restrained granddaughter, and I thought perhaps I was being...what’s the word the kids use? Played! I thought you were playing me. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Not so much. “Is ‘restrained’ a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “It’s just who you are, darling. You’ve never been one to make snap decisions.”

  “Except moving to Cupid’s Bow.” T
hat moment in her kitchen had felt like an epiphany.

  “Maybe that decision was made long before you consciously realized it. No offense to my son, but I always thought you belonged here.”

  It was true. Cupid’s Bow felt more like home than the apartment she and her father had lived in for her entire adolescence. She hoped one day Luke would consider the town home, too. He’d been doing so well until today. How could she blame him for taking the sight of her in a man’s arms badly when it had taken her weeks to adjust to the idea?

  The two women drank in silence, and Kate almost laughed when Gram refilled their tumblers. At this rate, Luke would see her kissing a man and tottering tipsily through the house in the same day. Mother of the freaking year.

  Gram stared into the distance, her smile sad.

  “Thinking about Grandpa Jim?” Kate asked softly.

  “Every day. I knew from the age of twelve he would be the love of my life, and he was. When you told Jim and me that you were engaged, I knew Damon must have been The One. I know how carefully you consider things, and I could hear it in your voice, how happy you were, how certain.”

  Emotion clogged Kate’s throat, and she nodded.

  “You loved him so much.” Her grandmother reached over to clasp her hand. “Nothing will ever take that away or diminish it, not even letting yourself fall in love again.”

  “Oh, Gram, it’s too soon to know whether that will ever happen.”

  “Really?”

  Kate bit her lip. As Gram had pointed out, Kate was guarded with her emotions. If she weren’t already falling for Cole—if part of her didn’t at least acknowledge it as a possibility—would she have been making out with him at his daughters’ party? What had seemed like such a clear decision with his hands on her was muddled now.

  “You’ll fall in love,” her grandmother insisted. “You have a generous heart. Maybe it won’t be with the sheriff—although he gets my vote—but you have too much to give to be alone.”

  “I’m not alone! I have you and Luke.”

  “Don’t be obtuse, dear.” Gram stared out across the sprawling yard again, but this time her gaze focused on something specific. “Looks like company.”