“How about sitting down at least?”
The fact there was a stranger in Laurel’s temporary home should probably have her ready to jump out of her skin. She nodded at his suggestion, thinking there were worse kinds of people to have around than a sheriff, when her stalker might have located her.
And, yes, it was most likely time to leave town. She’d started the packing process. Her year-long lease had been paid up in cash, which had been her suggestion and not the landlord’s after he required a longer lease for the deadbolt. She hadn’t wanted to leave more of a trail than she’d had to. The fake documents she’d secured through a connection from the ‘disappearance’ specialist she’d had lunch with, could be figured out if truly tested. She’d done the research to ensure her new place of employment was lax. That was the thing about moving out to the country; folks were trusting.
In the city, it was the complete opposite. Landlords checked credit scores, references, and past jobs. Her specialist had faked those too, but there was a price that came with using them. A financial cost that hit the account they’d helped her set up each time she used them. Staying hidden was more expensive than she realized and after nine months, she’d burned through a whole lot more of her cash than what she had coming in. She’d used paying her landlord up front and in cash as a negotiation tactic to lower the rent in addition to the added lock. At least, that was the excuse. He hadn’t been too careful when he checked up on her, and her place of employment had been in need of employees.
Trust was something not easily given in the city. Here in Gunner, the opposite seemed to be true. It had been a refreshing change of pace. She’d bleached her hair blonde to hide the red. Thankfully, it had worked because getting dye to stick for a redhead was no small feat. Bleach was the great equalizer. At least her freckles had faded over the years.
“Have you lived here all your life?” she asked, turning the tables on the handsome sheriff before he could ask another question. Inviting him in, no matter how much having him here calmed her nerves, had been a mistake. She could see that now.
“I have,” he said, subtly cocking an eyebrow before taking a sip of coffee. It seemed he was aware of the shift in tone.
“What about family?” she continued.
“I have a big one,” he said as her gaze immediately dropped to the ring finger on his left hand. There was nothing there, not even a tan line. Did he choose not to wear a ring so criminals wouldn’t know he was married?
Before the incident and trial, Laurel would never have thought of people in terms of the secrets they kept. In fact, she had the basic belief that people were fundamentally honest. Her trust in people plummeted, and yet somewhere deep inside her wanted to believe in the good in humanity again. Life would be too awful without a little bit of hope to carry her through the dark times.
She must have given away her reaction because he added, “No wife and kids. I was talking about brothers and cousins.”
“Oh,” she said, before she could reign in the relief in her voice—relief she had no right to own. She’d been doing fine on her own. The thought of dating after having to defend herself from someone who was supposed to be in love with her had held little appeal. Then, there’d been the harassment from the cop.
Until now, she’d convinced herself that she’d lost faith in men, even though she knew a couple of bad seeds—even the really evil ones—didn’t represent the entire gender. Feeling an attraction to the man sitting across from her at the table reminded her that she was still alive and capable of emotions. It was good. She hoped.
“How many do you have?”
“Four brothers and seven cousins,” he admitted with a smile that transformed his face. “All boys.”
“Wait a second,” she said, mentally calculating the number. She’d seen some of the Quinns in town and they were all gorgeous men, but she had no idea there were…twelve altogether. “There’s a dozen of you?”
“That’s right,” he said. “And before you say it, let me—”
“That’s enough for a calendar,” she cut him off midsentence.
He laughed a full-belly chuckle.
“I’ve heard that before,” he said. As far as she was concerned, his looks stood far ahead of the others. And that was saying something considering how good-looking they were.
“Of course, you have,” she said, trying to hide the red blush of embarrassment crawling up her neck. It always seemed to reach her cheeks where the color became all that much more concentrated. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip. “I’m pretty sure some of the Quinns take it as the compliment it’s meant to be.”
“I guess telling you and your family that you’re hot enough to sell calendars isn’t too offensive,” she said and her cheeks flamed. She really was stepping into it with the direction of this conversation. “Are you guys close?”
“All seven of my cousins either stayed to work the land at Quinnland or returned after my uncle brought them home for a big announcement,” he said. “After a whole lot of anticipation, he turned over the ranch into their capable hands.”
“And they were okay with everything?” she asked, finding that she wanted to learn more about Griff and his family. Or should she call him Sheriff Quinn? Laurel reminded herself not to get too comfortable around him. The last thing she needed was someone trained to notice the little things. She’d slipped a few times at Restful Acres, tiny little mistakes that no one other than Mrs. Brubaker seemed to catch onto. The great thing about most people was that they were usually too busy being lost in their own thoughts to really pay attention to details. Plus, if someone did call her on a mistake, she’d learned to play it off as a bad memory or suggest they’d heard wrong.
“They’re all married now and starting their own traditions. Some already have kids, and they want them to grow up at Quinnland,” he said, and there was a wistful quality to his voice.
She decided they didn’t know each other well enough for her to ask for details. Plus, she had no idea what his family situation was. It was possible his side of the family owned part of the ranch.
“Did you always want to go into law enforcement?” she asked, figuring a change in topic might help. Also, she wanted to be the one asking questions instead of the other way around.
It was nice to talk to someone socially. She hadn’t done that in longer than she cared to remember. Being on the run, making her way here while she stayed in pay-by-the-hour motels for six months had made her feel alone. She had a cell phone so she could get a job if need be along the way, and yet there were never any texts or calls. There was literally no one in the world who would know if she was still alive, because she’d had to break all ties when she’d disappeared in the middle of the night nine months ago. It had been tempting to stay in touch with her closest friend, but leaving a trail wasn’t allowed if she wanted to stay hidden, according to the specialist. Her defense lawyer had called in a favor for the lunch.
For nine months, she made very little conversation with anyone. The isolation had been harder than she’d ever imagined. Leaving everything she’d known for most of her life was more difficult than she’d expected.
Being here in Gunner after slowly, methodically making her way down to Texas was the first thing that had felt right since the whole ordeal started. Laurel could scarcely wrap her mind around what had happened to cause her to walk away, and knew in her heart she could never look back. She involuntarily shivered at the memory that had been buried so deep it could only come out in nightmares. The escalation of actions and the family threats once the verdict came in, stating she had acted in self-defense. She’d believed this long and brutal nightmare would end after the jury trial, but it hadn’t. The harassment almost immediately started. The threats. And it was her word against a cop’s, so there was no winning there.
Him and the others were smart enough not to leave an evidence trail. The last straw had been when she realized someone had been inside her home when she wasn’t there. She had no doubt in her mind someone had it out for her, and had been staking out her place. Had they come to figure out the best way to kill her and make it look like an accident? In her heart of hearts, the answer was a resounding yes. The same panic had gripped her today, as had gripped her when she’d discovered her drawers had been pilfered through. Nine months did nothing to lessen the fear and the wave of exhaustion that panic brought with it.
Bringing her concerns to the police chief hadn’t done a whole lot of good. He’d expressed that tempers were running high but would eventually cool down. The brick with the word, bitch, written on it that had been thrown at the windshield of her parked car at the grocery store was just overzealous teenagers. Chief Russo had told her to sit tight and the whole mess would blow over in a couple of weeks.
Livid beyond words, she’d walked out of his office with the clear knowledge he wasn’t going to do a whole lot to investigate the crimes. The last thing she’d asked him was whether or not he would step in if someone tried to kill her.
The man who’d been sworn to protect and to serve had stared at her with cold, dark eyes long enough to make her want to climb out of her own skin. Then, he’d said, “I’ll do what I can. However, bear in mind this community lost one of its sons, and neither me nor my cops can be everywhere at all times.”
The threat had sent a cold chill racing down her spine.
Glancing up, looking into Griff’s eyes, she saw the exact opposite of Russo. First of all, the two couldn’t be more different. Griff had to be six-feet-four-inches at a minimum, and yet he moved with the grace of an athlete in the zone.
She also realized he was studying her.
“I think I’ll have that cup of coffee now,” she said by way of excuse as she fumbled to push off the table and nearly ended up splayed out on the floor on her backside. If not for Griff’s fast reflexes, she would have ended up splat on the rug. He grabbed her elbow in time to steady her. His touch was electric and exciting rolled into one, and something that took her breath away.
Blinking a couple of times after righting herself, she thanked him and headed over to the kitchen.
“How long do you plan to stay in Gunner?” Griff asked.
Laurel hated liars and refused to be one. For the most part, she could sidestep when posed with an uncomfortable question rather than outright lie. Her hesitation in answering probably gave her away.
“I haven’t decided,” she finally said as she popped in the pod and then bit back a yawn. By this point, on a normal day, she would probably be in the shower by now. Since she was going to have a long day ahead packing and then slipping out of town, she needed the caffeine boost.
“Not putting down roots?” he continued.
She shrugged noncommittally.
“I really like my job,” she said, then it hit her like a ton of bricks out of the sky. She couldn’t leave town without saying goodbye to Mrs. Brubaker. The woman with eyes that reminded Laurel of the grandmother who’d taken her in and brought her up despite being on a fixed income. Her heart suddenly cramped.
She had to find a way to stop by Restful Acres to say goodbye. Mrs. Brubaker was the first person who made Laurel feel welcome in Gunner and like, maybe, the world wasn’t ending after all. The spunky older woman was important to Laurel.
Laurel was running out of steam on the ‘pack up and bolt out of town’ idea. Could she stick around a couple more days?
Griff took his time sipping his coffee, figuring this might be the last chance he got to spend time with Laurel before she left. Her intentions were crystal clear to him at this point, get out of Dodge. A moment of sadness crept in at the loss of chance to get to know her. He’d become good at sizing people up in a hurry. In fact, his life could depend on it, so he paid attention.
Instinct and experience said there was so much more to Laurel than a beautiful outer shell. Although, that was as close to perfect as he could imagine anyone being. The freckle just above her top lip on the right side of her mouth begged to be kissed. But he’d learned a long time ago that beauty could fade the minute someone opened their mouth and spoke. Intelligence was far sexier. A sense of humor was important and only added to someone’s appeal. He had a sneaky suspicion that behind those weary blue eyes was a formidable brain and someone who, at least at one time, knew how to crack a joke.
Laurel didn’t join him back at the table. Instead, she turned around and leaned a slender hip against the bullnose edge of the granite counter. This was a bad sign for further conversation. It meant she was ready for him to go.
Reluctantly, he took a final sip of coffee and then pushed to standing.
“I’d better head out,” he said, walking over to the sink.
“Okay,” she said, sounding a little startled at the abruptness of his gesture. He was just beating her to the punch. Besides, waiting until she gave him the heave-ho would only put her on guard more than she already was. It wasn’t his intention to make her uncomfortable in her own home, temporary as the place might be.
As it was, he was going to have to write Laurel Roberts off for good as a missed opportunity to get to know someone instinct said he was going to like.
He rinsed out his coffee cup and set it inside the sink to the backdrop of her protests.
“I can take care of that,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm. No touch should feel this electric and body altering.
Griff hadn’t experienced this level of chemistry in far too long.
He glanced down at the point of contact and then lifted his gaze to meet hers. There was so much chemistry firing between them that he was momentarily frozen in time while trying to figure out what was going on with his body.
An attraction this explosive couldn’t be good for either one of them. She had looked ready to bolt at any moment, like a deer that had picked up the scent of a hunter, for the entire time he’d been in her cabin. Now?
Her blue eyes darkened with something that looked a whole lot like need. There were other signals that should have clued him in to what was about to happen. Yet, nothing prepared him for her pressing up to her tiptoes and kissing him.
Her full lips against his brought out a low groan from deep in his chest. This wasn’t the time or place to put too much stock into what was happening. He’d studied this before. She was most likely seeking proof of life, and this was nothing more than biology kicking in.
So, he pulled back first.
“Not a good idea,” was all he managed to say while trying to slow his breathing. The second her lips had touched his, his pulse had skyrocketed.
“You are so right and that is not like me. I’m so sorry,” she said, and her cheeks flushed bright red with what looked like embarrassment. Rather than sink into humiliation like he was used to seeing people do in similar situations, she took in a breath and seemed to force her shoulders back. “Won’t happen again.”
Griff needed to set the record straight. Fast. “As much as I would very much like it to happen for the right reasons, that’s not what we’re dealing with here.” He figured this was the time to put a few cards on the table. “I couldn’t help noticing the emptied-out shelves in the bathroom even though I promise I was only there to wash my hands. Which leads me to a serious question that I’m hoping you’ll answer. Are you leaving town?”
Laurel bit down on her bottom lip like she was trying to physically force herself to slow down and think before she spoke. A few seconds ticked by as a multitude of emotions passed over her face. It gave him the impression she hadn’t made up her mind about whether or not she should stick around. Where she lived and if she disappeared from Gunner forever wasn’t his business, except there was that look of fear in her eyes and the fact she looked ready to jump at the slightest noise. Letting her leave now without trying to convince her to stay and let him help her, seemed like he might be throwing her directly into the lion’s den.
If there truly was a threat and she was running from something, it would eventually catch up to her. She seemed to know it too. And yet this didn’t seem like the right moment to remind her of the fact.
Finally, she issued a sharp sigh and then locked gazes with him.
“To be honest, I’m going back and forth on whether or not it’s time to go,” she admitted.
“I can be a good person to bounce ideas off of if you want to talk to someone about the decision. Go over the pluses and minuses,” he said, thinking this was the most she’d said about her personal life so far.
She nodded while looking up and to the right. The good news was that she was seriously considering his offer. The not-so-great part was he couldn’t tell which way she was going. Or what he could say to convince her to stick around. The connection he felt with her was something that normally took time to build. Theirs had been instant.
Call it chemistry or whatever, but he hadn’t experienced a pull like this in longer than he cared to remember. Of course, working long days and nights keeping his county safe was a huge responsibility and one he didn’t take lightly. At thirty-four, he was young for the job he’d held since his thirtieth birthday. And yet, law enforcement had been a way of life in his family. Two of his brothers worked for the U.S. Marshal Service. The two sides of the family ended up cattle ranchers and law enforcement. Who would have guessed? Their feuding fathers seemed to do everything possible to draw lines between the family.
“I’m not sure,” Laurel cut into his thoughts. She took a step back and then picked up her coffee mug, rolling it between her palms. Her gaze dropped to the ground like the answer might be written there.
“I just thought you should know what your options are,” he said. “I already said I’m a good listener. Anything you tell me can be kept confidential, unless there’s a crime involved.”
Her eyebrow shot up at the last part of his sentence. Had he just erased all the goodwill he’d worked so hard to gain during this conversation?
“And to be clear, I mean that you specifically committed a crime,” he clarified. “Not a crime in general terms, or something that has been committed against you. In that case, I can only remind you of your rights, and hope that you’ll give me a good reason for not taking action to put a criminal away so he can’t hurt someone else.”
Griff had dealt with every type of person during his time as sheriff. He’d heard stories from his father, who’d had the job even before him. All the experience and interactions gave him a good feel for people beyond just a gut instinct. Based on the vibe he’d received from Laurel so far, there was no doubt in his mind she was a good person. The few folks in town who’d done business with her had nothing but good things to say about the new resident. He believed he would have heard something derogatory about her by now. She’d been in town three months already.
Was there anything he could say to influence her decision to stick around for a fourth?