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Emma tightened her sweaty palms around the steering wheel, nervously keeping watch from the rearview mirror. Would the flour bomb even work? She’d never made one before and—
Oh yeah. It worked.
A cloud of white filled the air and she let out a squeal of delight as she accelerated down the long driveway. It was a pity she couldn’t stick around to see the prize-winning roses in a layer of gluten-free, self-raising—the only flour she’d been able to find in his cupboard. Yet another reason for getting as far away as possible.
What sort of man proposed after one date? And not just an offer of marriage but the insinuation she’d satisfy his every need, including a weird fetish with guinea pigs in the bedroom. No, thanks.
They’d met only that morning. Emma had accepted his invitation to lunch in the garden, amongst his award-winning roses, simply because the appeal of eating with someone other than herself had corrupted her usual good sense. Okay, the flour bomb may have been a little extreme. It certainly wasn’t her usual behaviour. But his impudence had struck a nerve and...she’d retaliated. Now, as she sped away, it seemed a little foolish. It also meant it was time to leave town.
With a suitcase full of clothes and her beloved Toyota Yaris, Emma was travelling around Australia. She’d left her hometown, Sydney, three months ago, crossed the Nullarbor eight days prior, and was slowly heading south towards Albany. With no itinerary she’d been stopping anywhere that intrigued her. Spending countless hours sketching glorious rivers, mountains, beaches and a myriad of gorgeous delights the Australian landscape selflessly offered.
It didn’t take long to pack her things from the hotel where she’d been staying for the past two days. After a quick change into her comfiest shorts and T-shirt, she headed off into the afternoon sun. Her short bob of messy curls bounced around her head as she drove along the pot-holed road. With her favourite playlist pumping, she sang aloud to every track, loving that there was no one in the passenger seat to tell her to pipe down.
All right, maybe she didn’t actually love that there was no one in the passenger seat. It might have been nice to share the experience with someone. But her dad had been specific in his will.
Use a portion of the inherited money to travel solo.
Why she was adhering to the instructions of a man she hadn’t seen for years was a mystery. Emma’s mother had been shocked her ex-husband had remembered he’d had a daughter, let alone leaving her fifty thousand dollars when he’d died.
But there was something romantic about the notion of going on the road, and Emma had seen some amazing things. Her sketchbook was overflowing with images, many of which she hoped to translate onto canvas once she got her painting mojo back. If she ever got it back.
Pulling into a petrol station off the highway, she stretched her legs as the tank filled, then headed inside. A teenage boy waved hello from behind the counter, and she smiled in reply before her gaze stole sideways. The most amazing pastries she’d ever seen filled a glass display.
“They taste as delicious as they look.” The boy offered, clearly noticing her hungry eyes.
Cinnamon scrolls drizzled in white icing, apricot Danish with thick, yellow custard, apple tarts with a dusting of nutmeg, and chocolate éclairs oozing with whipped cream. It was bakery heaven, right there in a petrol station.
“Where do these come from?” She couldn’t tear her gaze from the magnificent show.
“My sister makes them. She’s got a café in town.”
The pride in his voice intrigued Emma, and she looked up to find him grinning from ear to ear. With no siblings of her own, she always found it fascinating to hear other people talk about theirs. “Your sister is one talented woman.”
“You bet. Will you be stopping in town? Pop into Casey’s Café, she’d love to say hi.”
“Sure. Which town are we talking about?”
The boy chuckled, ringing up her petrol bill. “Stonecrest Bay. Twenty minutes south, down the highway. Once you get there, you’ll never want to leave.”
Emma’s gaze returned to the wonderful treats, mentally deciding which ones to buy. “If their food is this amazing, you might be right. I’ll take a Danish, a scroll, and what’s that one?” She pointed to a plaited pastry, scattered with nuts.
“Pecan and maple strip.”
She bit her lip. Her jeans were already on the snug side. But that’s why they made bigger sizes, right? “One of those too, please.”
Back at the car she opened the passenger door and lovingly placed her bag of goodies onto the seat. Unable to resist, she pulled out the Danish and took a bite, sighing in pleasure as the sweet custard and apricot began to party in her mouth.
A flash of movement inside the car interrupted her bliss and she stumbled backwards, spilling flakes of pastry over the ground. “Oh my God, a bear!”
“You okay, miss?” The shop attendant ran outside, turning his gaze to the car as she frantically pointed.
He strode towards it, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “Uh-oh.”
She took a few cautious steps closer. “What is it?”
He waved the white bag that moments earlier had held her beloved pastries. Now it was shredded, empty, and wet.
Emma’s mouth fell open. “A bear did that?”
The boy laughed. “It’s a dog. A labradoodle, I think. Decent size and needs a wash, ‘cause he stinks like no one’s business.”
“Can you get him out?”
“I can try.”
They tried together, but the dog refused to budge and sat like a dead weight in the seat. After a few minutes it was all too evident that the bear-like creature was there to stay.
“Looks like you have a new pet.”
“No.” Emma refused. “There must be something we can do. What about the police?”
“Only two police in town, and there’s no way they’d respond to something like this. Your best bet is to drive to Stonecrest Bay and head straight to The Funny Bone. Dee will sort you out.”
She glared at him. “This dog belongs to somebody. I can’t just take him!”
All she got in return was a shrug.
***
EMMA DROVE UNEASILY towards Stonecrest Bay. Perched in the passenger seat, the dog watched her with wide, unblinking eyes. Its brown, curly hair was matted and home to a host of sticks, grass, and sand. She guessed it had been a long while since bath time. With the car windows down, the smell was only mildly less horrendous, and breathing through her mouth didn’t provide much relief.
“So doggy...you got a name?”
All she got was an intrigued stare.
“I’m Emma. Twenty-four, struggling artist, travelling the country on a whim. No, that’s not true. I’m travelling the country on the whim of my father, who I hadn’t seen since I was eleven. He’s dead now, by the way.”
The dog whined, and she took it as sympathy.
“Yeah, it’s weird. I guess he had some kind of plan for me, although it probably wasn’t to set off flour bombs and talk to dogs.” Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she glanced over.
The dog shook his head, as though offended.
“Sorry. You’re actually a wonderful listener. So, what is it you’ve been doing to get so dirty? Enjoying all the good stuff I bet. Lucky thing.”
Up ahead, a sign indicated the turnoff for Stonecrest Bay. Emma took the exit, and beside her the dog became more alert, pricking its ears. Despite being filthy, it was a beautiful animal. Rich chocolate fur, or was it hair? She wasn’t much of a dog person. It looked like a great, big teddy bear. She swore a smile formed on its face as the ocean came into view, and it had her grinning too.
Crystal clear waves gently lapped against clean, white sand. The horizon seemed forever away, stretched beyond the bluest sea she’d ever laid eyes upon. The water sparkled, reflecting the late afternoon sun, and she longed to stop and sketch it. Yet her passenger needed attention, so she drove on, hoping tomorrow’s view would be just as spectacular.
The Funny Bone was easy to spot along a tree-lined street full of colourful shops. When she parked at the front, her friend gave an excited bark, racing from the car the second the door opened. A bell tinkled overhead as they went inside, and Emma was immediately hit with the soapy scent of shampoo. The dog disappeared out a back exit, and she let out a squeak of panic but didn’t follow. It seemed wrong to barge her way through with no one around.
“Coming.” A voice sang out.
Emma’s loud exhale released the tension that had circled since the dog made itself at home in her car. Hopefully, this Dee person could sort out the mess.
A woman, probably a few years younger than her, came out untying an apron and pulling it over her head. She hung it on a nearby rack, and despite the protective layer, her jeans and T-shirt were soaking wet. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Hi, I’m Abbey.”
Emma tried to hide her disappointment. “I was looking for Dee.”
“She’s stepped out for a minute. Can I help you with something?”
“Well...there’s a dog.”
Abbey laughed, flicking her long, strawberry-blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “You’re in the right place, then.”
The sound of paws on the polished concrete floor took their attention, and Emma smiled gratefully at the dog’s return, now with two extras in tow.
“Is this your dog?” Abbey frowned at the brown, curly labradoodle, matted with debris.
It was much taller than its two new friends, whose white coats were groomed to perfection. The difference almost made Emma laugh, except for a strange sense of responsibility that left her feeling guilty.
“It jumped into my car and wouldn’t get out. I didn’t know what to do! The guy at the petrol station said to come here and you’d help me.”
The bell above the front door jingled and another woman entered. She wore the most amazing boots Emma had ever seen, instantly making her want a pair of her own. Not that she had any need for red, knee-length Wellingtons covered with pictures of dalmatians.
“Is this the dog from the petrol station?” The woman’s friendly smile put Emma at ease. “I’m Dee. Andy called me.”
Dee squatted and held her palm under the dog’s nose. It sniffed amiably, standing completely still as she felt behind its ears and stroked carefully over its body. “I can’t believe it. He’s much thinner and his coat’s a mess, but I think this is Chipper.”
The dog barked as though agreeing.
“You’re kidding.” Abbey joined Dee on the floor, giving the dog a pat. “You’ve lost weight, buddy. Where have you been?”
Emma watched them curiously. “Do you know the owner?”
Dee turned, her smile fading. “Rose passed away two months ago. Chipper was her whole life and after she died, he vanished. We thought someone had taken him, but maybe he just ran away. Poor baby.” She stood up, brushing her hands over her faded jeans. “He can stay here overnight. We’ll give him a good wash and a thorough check.” She chewed her bottom lip, wrapping a length of straight, chestnut brown hair around her thumb, seeming to ponder a dilemma. “I should probably let Mark know.”
Abbey snorted.
“Who’s Mark?” Emma crossed her fingers that he was a relative who might give Chipper a loving home.
“He’s one half of Stonecrest Bay’s enormous police force.” Dee headed for the phone.
“And he has a huge stick up his butt.” Abbey added with a smirk, sending Dee into a fit of giggles.
Emma sighed, lowering to a squat to give Chipper a rub. “Ugh, you really do stink, buddy.” Her voice turned to a whisper. “Sorry about your owner, you must’ve been so sad.” She pulled some dry leaves from his curly hair. “I’m sure we’ll find somewhere new for you to live. A house with a big yard and an owner who’ll buy you bakery treats, ‘cause we know you like those.”
Chipper’s brown eyes stared back with such trust it made her gulp. She startled when the shop door opened again, the bell announcing the arrival of Mark, with the stick up his butt.
“That was quick.” Dee called from behind the counter.
“I was close by.”
Mark’s eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and Emma hoped they impaired his vision so he wouldn’t notice her staring. The man was glorious. Tall and well built, late twenties or maybe early thirties. Uniforms always did it for her, and the way he filled his out was close to perfection. Long legs clad in dark-blue pants, with heavy, black boots letting everyone know he meant business. His shirt was lighter blue, scattered with official looking badges that ended on a set of extremely fun-to-look-at biceps.
He came further inside, removing his police cap to reveal a dark, no-nonsense short-back-and-sides that he probably maintained himself. Taking off his sunglasses, he watched her through intense, green eyes that pulled his whole sexy policeman package together.
“Do you know anything about an explosion of flour that destroyed a garden of prize-winning roses at approximately 13:45 today?”
Emma’s eyes widened. That jerk had called the police on her? Those roses would be fine after a quick hose off.
She shook her head. “No, Officer.”
“It’s Senior Constable Duffy, and are you sure about that? I got a description for a short Caucasian woman with a mop of light, wavy hair. High cheekbones, brown eyes, a few freckles on her nose, driving a silver Toyota Yaris. Unfortunately, the complainant was unable to recall her name.”
No surprises there. That dimwit had been too far into himself to bother with learning her name. What really hurt was that he’d called her short. And “mop of hair?” That was just plain rude. Hers was stylishly curly, not wavy. Clearly, he’d been too preoccupied with his creepy marriage entrapment to notice the difference. She pressed her lips together and once again shook her head.
“Anyway,” Dee intercepted, “as I said on the phone, I think we’ve found Chipper. No theft after all, so you can close the case.”
“I’ll take a few details before deciding whether the matter is closed.” Mark took out a notebook from his shirt pocket.
Rising from her squat, Emma caught the roll of Dee’s eyes and understood all too clearly the afore-mentioned stick.
“Name?” Mark asked abruptly.
“Emma Elizabeth O’Neil. I’d stopped at the petrol station twenty minutes north from here and was quietly enjoying a delicious pastry when the dog sneaked into my car. The helpful attendant and I were unable to remove him, so it was suggested I bring the dog here.” She shrugged. “And here we are.”
Mark snapped his notebook shut with a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Are you staying in town?”
“I suppose so. I haven’t thought about it.”
He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I can put a call through to the bed and breakfast, if you’d like.”
Slightly mollified by the kind gesture, she nodded, and watched him pull a phone from his pocket, stepping away to have the conversation privately.
“Flour explosion?” Abbey whispered, a huge grin making her appear more youthful than Emma had initially thought.
“He deserved it.” She felt the need to justify herself. It wasn’t as though she set off random flour bombs for the mere pleasure of it. “That guy wanted a housekeeper and a bedroom slave, not a partner.”
Abbey and Dee nodded in sympathy.
“Okay, you have a room for as long as you need it.” Mark returned, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll head there now.” She held his gaze. His eyes seemed to search hers, looking for what, she wasn’t sure.
Dee broke the silence. “Pop in again tomorrow. Chipper will be back to his gorgeous self.”
Emma didn’t quite know how to tell them she wouldn’t be keeping the dog, so she simply smiled and offered her thanks before heading out the door.
The evening breeze smelled of the ocean, and she took a deep breath for what seemed like the first time in hours. Lost in thought about a shower and a comfy bed, she was surprised to find Mark following closely behind.
“Look, I know you said you weren’t involved with the flour bomb, but...there’ve been complaints about that man before. I just want to know...did he hurt you in any way?”
She stood with her back against the car, looking up at Mark, who was a good head taller. His sunglasses remained off, and the concern in those deep-green eyes had her heart pumping a little faster. There was dark stubble coming through on his chin and upper lip, and for an insane moment she was tempted to rise onto her tiptoes and rub her cheek over it.
“He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re asking. And those stupid roses weren’t damaged. They just need a spray of water.”
His lips twitched as though he might burst into laughter, but at the last second opted for a soft smile. “Well, you take care. I’m sure I’ll see you again during your stay.”
Emma nodded, not entirely sure if that would be a good or a bad thing.
***
THE WARMTH FELT GORGEOUS against her shoulders as Emma sat on the beach, wriggling her bare toes through the soft sand. It was early, and she’d had the entire stretch to herself for the past hour, witnessing the changing colours as the sky showed off its morning glory.
The bed and breakfast was a five-minute stroll away, and the nicest place she’d stayed in during her three months of travel. She wasn’t one for splurging, despite the money her dad had left, and her accommodations so far had consisted of cheap hotels and backpacker hostels. But this time she was glad to be living it up a little. Stonecrest Bay gave her a good feeling.
The scenery was spectacular and her sketchbook held pages of fresh, new images. She was about to embark on another when a jogger came along the beach, interrupting her view. It was a man. Shirtless. Running barefoot over the wet sand, not minding the water striking his ankles every few seconds as waves made their way to shore.
As he came closer, she realised it was Mark. Wearing nothing more than loose, black shorts and a cap on his head, he was quite the vision. He had abs. Abs! She’d never seen so many muscles in real life.
She wondered whether he’d recognise her under her wide-brim hat and sunglasses. That question was answered when he slowed to a walk and headed up the sand.
“Morning, Miss O’Neil.”
“Good morning, Detective Duffy.”
His smile was pained. “It’s Senior Constable.”
Shielding her eyes from the sun, she focused on his pecs. “Right. Sorry.”
“How’s the accommodation?”
To Emma’s surprise he sat down on the sand beside her. “It’s wonderful. Thanks for the recommendation.”
This time his smile was genuine. “I stayed there when I first came to town. It’s a great spot.”
Not a native local. Interesting. “How long have you worked here?”
His eyes had a way of honing into hers, and she was grateful for the protection of her sunglasses. “A year. One more to go.”
“Oh?”
He crossed one ankle over the other while his hands shifted backwards, disappearing into the sand. “I’m not exactly here by choice.”
That went someway to explaining the stick. “Ooh, a banishment. Did you do something naughty?”
Mark laughed, his head falling back as he squinted against the bright sun. “What would you think if I said yes?”
Emma put her sketchbook aside and mimicked his position, liking the feel of the sand between her fingers. “I’d think you just became way more intriguing.”
She held his gaze as they sat together on the empty beach, grinning over the hum of a shared secret.
“So, what was it?” She bit her lip, shifting her focus to the dark, stubbly growth over his square jaw.
Mark pulled his hands from the sand and brushed them over his shorts. “That story is better told over a beer.” Checking his watch, he sighed and slowly got to his feet. “I’d better go. Enjoy the rest of your morning.”
She watched until he’d jogged out of sight, unsure whether he’d just asked her out for a beer or if she’d been dismissed.
***
SITTING AT A TABLE by the window in Casey’s Café, Emma inhaled for the hundredth time. The place smelled like heaven on earth—scrumptious pastries, donuts, lamingtons, brownies, and a million kinds of muffins. It had been impossible to choose, but in the end a chocolate donut with the most wonderful, shiny glaze had won her heart. She was seriously pondering another, when Mark slid into the seat opposite.
“Hello, again, Miss O’Neil.”
“Sergeant Duffy, what a surprise.”
He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “It’s Senior Constable, but Mark’s probably easier.”
She grinned. “You’re the only person in the world who’s ever called me ‘Miss O’Neil.’ It’s Emma.”
Sitting back in her seat, she noted the way his cheeks lifted with his smile. His teeth were lovely and straight. Good dental hygiene going on there. He’d shaved since their morning encounter, and the sight of smooth skin over that sexy jaw created a little flip in her tummy. Or perhaps it was just the donut.
“How long are you staying in town?” He took off his police cap and placed it upside down on the table, nesting his sunglasses inside.
“I’ll need at least a month to try all the delicious treats they have here.”
Mark chuckled. “Yeah, it’s pretty impressive.”
“Actually, I’m not sure. I’m travelling where I choose and staying as long as I please.”
“Sounds liberating.”
She sighed softly. “It was something my father requested in his will.”
His eyebrows rose, making the clear whites of his eyes even more visible.
“I know it’s crazy.” Emma winced, her loose curls bouncing as she shook her head. “But it feels...important.”
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “Sorry about your dad.”
His hands were massive. Hers disappeared under the warmth of his touch, and he squeezed briefly before letting go. The empathy was unexpected, and left her feeling somewhat sheepish. She could hardly claim to have had a good relationship with her father.
“Are you close with your family?” Emma clasped her hands together under the table, all too aware of her tingling skin.
His broad shoulders dropped slightly, and a vertical line appeared between his eyebrows. “You could say I’ve never lived up to my father’s expectations as a cop. Or a son, if we’re being honest.”
Emma pressed her lips together, not sure how far to probe. “Is he part of the reason for your banishment?”
His laugh rumbled deep within his throat. “He sure is.”
They smiled at each other over the table, and when his gaze dropped to her mouth Emma’s heart rate kicked up a notch. From a pocket somewhere, his phone rang, and a fleeting annoyance passed his eyes before he reached to answer it.
Taking a deliberately slow breath she turned to face the window. Across the street The Funny Bone was a hive of activity, its door swinging open and closed as customers came and went. It was an unusual trade for a small town, but clearly a popular one. She’d heard whispers of a dog show held every year, which seemed almost as big a deal as the Royal Easter Show back home. Her room at the bed and breakfast had a picture on the wall of a first-place winning schnauzer named Dash, from back in 2004.
“Sorry about that.” Mark put his phone away, returning his police cap to his head. “I need to head off. Maybe I’ll see you later?”
She nodded, pushing her chair back from the table. “I’d better go too. Sort out something with the dog.”
“Are you keeping him?”
Emma laughed away the idea. “Not possible.”
Outside, the late spring weather hinted at a hot summer ahead. She crossed the road and entered The Funny Bone, finding the cool air inside a welcome relief. While yesterday the shop had been quiet, today things were pumping. Three shiny, steel tables held three different dogs, all at various stages of pampering. Music blared from a speaker, competing with the drone of a hair dryer manned by Dee. Abbey was brushing a longhaired dog that reminded Emma of Lassie, and she would have sworn it had a smile on its face.
A tall man stood at the other table, tying a pink ribbon on a dog no bigger than a rat. He was half concentrating on the task and half watching Abbey with a look of adoration, not dissimilar to the dog she was brushing.
“Emma!” Dee switched off the dryer and beckoned her over. “You’re not going to recognise Chipper, he looks amazing.” She whistled sharply and three dogs came bounding in from the back room. The two white, fluffy ones from yesterday stopped obediently at Dee’s feet. “This is Milo and Xena.” She squatted and rubbed their heads, turning to face Emma “We checked the microchip and it’s definitely Chipper. He’s lost nine kilos, can you believe it?”
Emma looked at the dog, who stared back curiously. His curly, brown hair had a shine that she wouldn’t have thought possible. She let him lick her hand, bending down to his height. “You’re so clean, buddy. Nine kilos? You must have been a big boy before I met you.”
Dee laughed. “He was spoiled with bakery treats every day. We were always telling Rose not to let him have them, but she couldn’t help herself.”
Emma opted not to say anything about the two he’d stolen from her yesterday.
“His shots are all up to date, so he’s ready whenever you are.”
“Oh, right. About that...I can’t actually take him with me.” Emma bit her lip guiltily as she straightened.
Dee’s eyebrows rose, but she remained silent.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that...I’m travelling. It would be hard to have a dog...” She left the sentence unfinished, feeling like the world’s most dreadful person.
Dee stood up. “No, I get it. A dog isn’t for everyone. Perhaps you could do me a favour, though?”
“Sure.”
“We’re tight for space here. Could you take him for the day? Bring him back before closing and he can stay the night. I’ll do my best to find him a new owner.”
Emma looked into Chipper’s big, trusting eyes, quietly relieved that goodbyes weren’t in order just yet. “I’d love to.”
***
CLOSING HER EYES AGAINST the late afternoon sun, Emma splayed her arms and legs as she floated atop the salty water of the Indian Ocean. The temperature had soared throughout the day, and the temptation to cool off had lured her in, despite her lack of swimwear.
She and Chipper had spent the day exploring Stonecrest Bay. After walking the main street and peeking inside shops, they’d found their way to the cemetery. Chipper had sniffed happily along the old headstones, until finding the one belonging to Rose, where he’d sat quietly on the grave of his previous owner and fallen sleep. Emma had pulled out her sketchbook and drawn the scene, having to stop several times to wipe away tears.
Afterwards they’d explored the rock pools along the coast and discovered a secluded inlet. She’d stripped down to her underwear and was now floating happily through the water, while Chipper splashed excitedly amongst the tiny fish swimming close to shore.
Chipper’s urgent barking had her opening her eyes, and it took a second for Emma to process that the dog was running out of the water, chasing someone down the length of beach. A man. And he was holding her bag.
“Hey!” She scrambled for the shore, taking after him as water streamed down her body. “Give that back!”
Chipper was gaining on the man, barking madly. Emma had never heard him so agitated. The dog suddenly leapt into the air, landing directly on the thief, dropping them both to the ground. A blur of furry brown and flying sand was all she could see as she ran towards them, puffing madly. In the next second, her bag exited the fray, while Chipper growled, and the man bolted away.
Emma ran to the dog. “Oh my goodness, are you hurt?” She traced his body, searching for injuries. He was breathing heavily, but otherwise seemed fine, and reassured her with a giant lick of her face.
Relief soared through her, and with a laugh she hugged him close. “What a brave boy!”
They collected her canvas shoulder bag, which thankfully had remained zipped and still held all its contents. Pulling out her phone, she dialed for police, and was surprised when Mark picked up.
“You have to answer your own calls?”
“It’s a small town, Emma. What’s wrong?”
She filled him in, and he insisted she wait for him to arrive to make a formal statement. It was then that she realised the thief had not only pilfered her bag, but also her clothes. And those he hadn’t let go of.
“Dammit, Chipper. What am I going to do? I can’t meet Sergeant Sexy in my wet bra and undies!”
The dog hung his head.
“I’ll just pretend it’s a white bikini.” She glanced down at herself. “An awfully see-through white bikini. Oh God, he’s here.”
As Mark traversed the sand in his sturdy, black boots, Emma positioned herself strategically, standing with her legs and arms crossed. But if he noticed her attire, he didn’t show it, and remained professionally neutral while she relayed the story.
“And Chipper was a real hero, chasing after that jackass like a pro.” In her excitement she forgot to cover up, and her hands fell to her sides.
Mark’s gaze dropped to her chest. His mouth fell slightly open, but quickly closed as he returned to her eyes. “Anything stolen?”
“My clothes.” There was no point hiding any longer, and she held her arms out wide. “I had them on top of the bag while we went for a swim.”
“We?”
“Chipper and I.”
Mark’s lips twitched. “You’re so going to keep him.”
“Oh, bugger, what’s the time? I was meant to have him back to Dee before she closed.”
Mark glanced at his watch. “Six.”
“No, no, no.”
Pulling out his phone he thumbed over the keys. “I’ll message Dee. Stop panicking. Chipper can stay with me tonight.”
“I can’t ask you to do that!”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.” His eyes danced with amusement and the twitch turned into a smile. “Where’s your car?”
“I left it at the B&B. We’ve walked everywhere today.”
“I’ll drop you back so you can pick up some clothes, then we can grab dinner.”
Emma put her hands on her hips, staring at him quizzically. “Is that your way of asking me out?”
He stared right back. “Yes.”
***
“SO YOU HADN’T HEARD from your father in thirteen years?”
Emma nodded, stealing a chip from Mark’s plate. They sat at a table for two, overlooking the ocean at the Seaside Bar and Grill. He’d assured her the food was great, and he was right. Her crispy-skinned salmon and avocado salad was the best meal she’d eaten in ages. A few chips remained on Mark’s plate after he’d demolished an enormous chicken schnitzel burger. She stole another one.
“Not a single word?”
It was cute the way his forehead creased.
“Well, he’d leave the occasional comment on my Instagram.”
Mark sat back in his chair. “Do you think he left you guilt money?”
An easy laugh left her mouth. “Of course, but I chose to see it as an opportunity.”
She took another chip, finding its crunch utterly satisfying. “Things weren’t so crash hot for me at home. This trip came at the perfect time, and I’m grateful to my dad for that.”
He pushed his plate towards her, and they shared the remaining fries. “You don’t have to tell me, but what wasn’t crash hot?”
Emma sighed, not certain she wanted to go there, but the genuine concern in Mark’s eyes had her guard dropping. “The art gallery where I’d been working closed down unexpectedly, so not only did I lose my income, but also the opportunity for an exhibit, which I’d been promised.” She took a breath to steady the wobble that threatened her voice. “I had to move back home with Mum, which...let’s just say she’s never gotten over my father leaving and transfers her bitterness onto me.”
The vertical line between his eyebrows appeared, deeper than ever. “That must be hard.”
She sat back with a shrug. “I love my mum, but it’s kind of nice being on the other side of the country.”
His expression softened, and she was tempted to pull out her sketchbook. But a drawing could never fully capture the things that were turning her insides to jelly. The way his lips curled when he smiled, the pulse beating steadily in his neck, or the movement of his jaw as he spoke. He’d changed out of his police uniform into jeans and a white, button shirt that were playing havoc with her libido. She couldn’t stop staring at his perfectly-shaped mouth.
“Emma?”
“Sorry, what?”
His eyes narrowed, as though he knew exactly where her mind had wandered. “I asked about your art.”
“Oh?”
“You mentioned a gallery exhibit that fell through.”
She winced. “I was supposed to have three paintings hung. It was a huge opportunity that could have opened a lot of doors, but...it didn’t happen.”
“I’d love to see some of your work.” He caught her gaze, holding it over the table.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t painted in a while.”
Those green eyes focused wholly on hers. “How come?”
Emma bit her bottom lip, not at all sure what to do with the swirling sensations overtaking her belly. “I got bogged down for too long in negativity and kind of lost my mojo.”
He nodded, as though that made perfect sense. “Think you’ll get it back?”
There was the million-dollar question. “I hope so.”
“What else are you searching for?” The man was unnervingly perceptive. Then again, he was a cop.
“Oh you know, just...all the good stuff.”
His phone rang, and with a not-so-silent curse, he answered, offering curt grunts as responses. The call was over in less than twenty seconds.
“I have to go. There’s been an accident on the highway. Ambo’s are there but they need police back-up to clear the road. It’s all hands on deck.”
Emma found it hard to fathom he’d gathered so much information from that brief conversation. “Is anyone hurt?”
“No fatalities.”
They left the restaurant and outside the scent of frangipani’s perfumed the still night air. Emma glanced around, trying to get her bearings. “If I follow that road, I’ll come to the B&B, right?”
Mark unlocked the police car they’d travelled in together. The internal light came on, slowly fading as the doors remained closed. “I’ll drive you home.”
“No, I don’t want to hold you up—”
“Emma, I’m not going to let you walk five kilometres in the dark. Get in.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking an audible breath. “Please.”
Any tenderness he’d shown over dinner had vanished, replaced with work-mode Mark in all his stick-up-the-butt glory. “Don’t mind me, Inspector Duffy. I’d hate to get in your way.” She turned and started walking, not knowing how long it would take, and wishing she’d worn more appropriate shoes.
His long strides over the gravel car park were the only sound in the quiet night. Four was all it took to reach her.
“Emma.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
She stopped at the feel of his hand on her elbow, annoyed at the way her whole body reacted to a mere touch.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a jerk.” He kept his hand on her arm, rubbing a thumb lightly over her bare skin.
She swallowed, trying to hide the hurt from her voice. “You could at least pretend to be unhappy about going to work.”
His hand dropped. “You think I want to drive thirty kilometres up the highway to sweep up glass? Let me assure you, I don’t. The only thing I want to do right now is...” The remaining words went unspoken as he stepped away from her, walking in a slow circle to control his frustration.
“All you want to do is what?”
“This.”
He moved in a blur, cupping her face with two hands as his mouth found hers. A surprised squeak wedged in her throat, but as his lips worked their magic, she smiled against his mouth, closed her eyes and kissed him back.
Her heart pounded so hard it was surely about to break several ribs and escape her chest. The kiss was perfect, unassuming and yet demanding at the same time. She rose onto her tiptoes, wanting to reach him more fully, and was grateful when his arms slid around her waist to hold her steady. She did the same, placing her hands on his back, loving the way his breath hitched and she tugged him closer.
The outside world ceased to exist as their kiss deepened. A lovely giddiness overtook every sensation, and Emma had the fleeting thought that life could be most satisfactory if she stayed in that moment forever.
Mark pulled back slightly, enough to make her whimper, and she felt him smile as his forehead came to rest against hers. Neither of them spoke, and Emma kept her eyes closed, not wanting any of it to be over. She wasn’t sure how to restore composure when her heart rate was ricocheting off the charts.
Blinking several times, she took a step backwards, releasing the hold they had around each other.
“I—” he started.
“I know. You have to go.” She squeezed his hand. “Be safe.”
***
EMMA HAD BEEN ON THE beach for an hour, sketching, and smiling. She couldn’t stop smiling. She’d eventually fallen asleep last night after Mark dropped her at the B&B, but after waking before five this morning, knew there’d be no sleep-in today.
The sunrise had been more stunning than yesterday, with the surprise addition of four dolphins playing close to shore before disappearing into deeper water. She’d sketched them, as well as the kamikaze birds that dove into the ocean, like missile bombers in search of breakfast.
Mark was on her mind the whole time and the memory of that kiss seeped through every cell of her body, causing shivers of delight that made her smile even wider. She laid back in the sand, loving that the sun had a little less bite than yesterday, and the temperature was close to perfect. Overhead, clouds sat fluffy and white in the sky, and she tried not to make it mean anything that they all looked a bit like Mark’s eyes, full of heat as he kissed her senseless.
The sound of movement in the sand reached her only half a second before a slobbery tongue licked her cheek. In a combination of shrieks and laughter she sat up as best she could, while Chipper made himself at home on her lap.
“Good morning to you too, buddy.” Emma hugged the dog, a little taken back by how lovely it was to see him. “I didn’t realise how much I missed you.”
“He missed you too.” Mark puffed as he ran up the sand to join them. “He took off like a shot when he saw you. I couldn’t keep up.”
Emma did nothing to disguise her glee at the way Mark’s shorts and singlet clung to his sweaty body. “Hi.”
“Morning.” Sand covered his bare feet, and he pulled off his hat as he dropped down to sit beside her, catching his breath. Chipper gave a happy bark before dashing to the water to splash amongst the waves.
“Was everything okay last night?” Emma returned her attention to Mark, finding his stubbly jaw extremely distracting.
“Yeah, I got back just after midnight and Chipper was snoring on my bed.”
She laughed. “I thought you were going to put him outside.”
“Guess I’m a softie.” His nose wrinkled.
“More like a sucker.”
He grinned, leaning in to brush his lips gently against hers. “If you say so.”
His mouth hovered millimetres from her own, and they smiled goofily at each other sharing the same pocket of air. He whispered something she couldn’t quite hear, thanks to the buzz of anticipation in her ears, and the movement caused their lips to brush again. This time they stayed connected.
The million butterflies that had waltzed in her belly all morning quickly upped their dance to a tango. Emma heard a moan in the back of her throat, and had no control to stop it happening a second time. Mark’s breath hitched and he inched closer, bringing one arm around her waist as though to prevent her escaping. Not that she had any intention of going anywhere.
How was it that a kiss could ignite such a spark within? Amongst the haze of lust as Mark’s mouth worked magic over hers, something else shifted. She felt an urge to paint.
Her art had once been the thing that lit her spirit, but over the past year had evaporated, right along with her dream of a gallery exhibition. Living with her mother, whose constant jabs about Emma getting a “real job” had well and truly crushed any creative flair. She’d hoped the passion would reignite when she headed on the road, but despite the hundreds of images she’d sketched, the motivation to turn one into a painting had eluded her. Until now.
There was no stopping her smile, and Mark chuckled against her mouth. “Something funny?”
“No, it’s—”
His phone rang and she stopped, sensing his immediate tension. He moved backwards, answering the call with gruff responses that made her pity whoever was on the other end.
“Why do you do that?” She asked when the phone was back in his pocket.
He gave her a blank stare.
“Oh come on, Mark. When you’re in police-mode, you’re so uppity.”
His eyebrows rose. “Uppity?”
“Yes, uppity. You’re the exact opposite of a friendly, small-town cop.”
He surprised her then, nodding quietly, his gaze fixed on the dry sand sifting through his fingers.
Emma softened. “Why?”
He was silent for so long she almost asked again. But then he took a long breath and exhaled loudly. “My father is a senior figure in the police force. After what happened, he orchestrated a two-year position for me in Stonecrest Bay. Alex, one of the previous cops—who was adored by everyone in town—was shipped to Perth. No one was happy with the arrangement. Not me, not poor Alex—who was a few years off retirement—and sure as hell not any residents of Stonecrest Bay.”
He stood up and began to pace. “When I first got here, I was so angry and that came out as arrogance and rudeness. And yeah, it’s stuck. I know what people say about me...but I’m not sure how to be any different.”
“You’re not that way with me.”
He turned his gaze to meet hers, and his mouth curled. “That’s because I like you.”
“You don’t like anyone else in town?”
His smile became a grin. “Not in that way.”
Emma put her hands on her belly, trying to calm those dancing butterflies. “Mark, I feel like you could turn this around simply by being nicer. People are forgiving. They’ll start loving you in no time.”
He snorted, sitting back down beside her on the sand.
She swiveled to face him, their crossed legs touching at each knee. Emma took his hand, linking her fingers through his. “What happened to make your father send you here?”
Mark brought her hand to his lips and held it there, pondering the question. He kissed her several times between shaky breaths, and it was clear to Emma that the conversation wasn’t easy for him.
It seemed like forever before he spoke. “I saw Dad with another woman—the station’s Superintendent—in his office late one night. When I confronted him about cheating on Mum, he did what he does best and got rid of me.” His soft sigh was enough to break her heart. “It shouldn’t have been a surprise. He’s done it my whole life—boarding school since age six, and sent off to stay with my grandparents for a month every summer.”
He kissed her hand absentmindedly. “In my family, generations of men have been in the police force. I stupidly thought that if I followed the tradition, Dad would be proud.” A defeated laugh left his throat. “When I graduated from Police College, all he said was, ‘Don’t embarrass me.’”
She squeezed his hand, and it seemed to alert him to the fact he was still holding it close to his mouth. He kissed it again before letting go.
“Did you tell your mother what you saw?”
Mark’s lips pressed to form a thin line. “Yep. She wasn’t surprised and told me not to worry. I guess it’s not the first time.”
Emma blew out a breath. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah well...” His shrug finished the sentence.
“So, you’ve been in Stonecrest Bay for a year and there’s just two of you running the whole town. Have you ever had any real time off?”
His head shook. “No, but it’s different than being a city cop. Back in Perth, it was go, go, go the entire shift. Here, it’s much slower paced. A call out to Mrs. Gray’s because she’s worried about noises in the house—it’s almost always her fridge, that thing is ancient. Or rowdy teenagers on a Saturday night who need reminding they’re not yet eighteen. We often have to investigate missing dogs. This town is mad for canines, you should see how crazy it gets during summer. And the annual dog show?” He laughed, shaking his head. “People get very passionate about their pets.”
Emma watched him curiously. His expression had changed from sad and disillusioned, to animated, even excited. She narrowed her eyes in mock accusation. “You like it here, don’t you?”
His grimace was playful. “I guess it’s grown on me.”
Mark’s phone rang again, and he answered with a noticeably friendlier tone. He raised his eyebrows at Emma, and she grinned in approval, adding two thumbs up.
As he listened, his brow furrowed. “Is everyone okay? Are you sure? Don’t touch anything, I’m on my way.”
He stood up, offering a hand to Emma, which she grabbed and was pulled to standing. “What’s happened?”
“A break-in at The Funny Bone.”
“Oh no.”
“Let’s go. How’d you like to be my apprentice?”
She copied his smirk. “Your boss? I’d love to!”
***
EMMA, MARK AND CHIPPER pulled up at the dog-grooming salon in Mark’s police vehicle. Despite her many requests, he’d refused to let her drive, and when she’d tried to grab the keys from his pants pocket, they’d gotten extremely sidetracked and nearly forgotten there was a job to do.
Dee came outside to greet them, looking pale and worried. Without hesitating Emma wrapped her arms around her in a reassuring hug. Dee squeezed back tightly, whispering a wobbly, “Thanks” as they broke apart.
“Tell me exactly what happened.” Mark was back to his abrupt self and as he pulled out his notebook he glanced at Emma, who gave her frostiest glare. He blinked a few times and then backtracked. “Sorry, Dee. Please take your time, I know this must be distressing for you.”
Dee’s jaw dropped. “Um...thanks, Mark.” She glanced at Emma in confusion, no doubt wondering what was going on with the grumpy policeman. Emma gave her most reassuring smile, encouraging her to continue.
“I arrived this morning to find the door ajar, and when I went inside the dogs were going crazy. They still are, as you can hear. Abbey and Harley are trying to settle them.”
Mark’s gaze flicked towards the closed shop door. “Was anything stolen?”
Her chestnut hair shimmied with the shake of her head. “Not that I could tell, but I didn’t look too closely. You said not to touch anything.”
He smiled gently. “You did the right thing. I’m going to go in and take a look around.”
Dee, Emma and Chipper followed behind as he pushed through the glass door. Inside three large dogs, plus Dee’s lovely white ones were pacing the concrete floor. Abbey and the man Emma had seen the other day, Harley, were amongst them. The dogs were clearly agitated. Some barked, some whined, and the noise was deafening.
Mark slipped into the back area, and Chipper began to circle around Emma, his curly coat brushing against her bare legs. She crouched down to give him a reassuring hug, seeking comfort in return as a strange sense of uneasiness crept through her.
“He’s protecting you.” Dee almost had to shout, even though she was standing beside Emma. “That circling thing, he’s in protective mode.”
“Really?” Emma stood up and glanced around the shop. The uneasy feeling upgraded to a prickle of fear. “Something’s not right.”
“I feel it too.” Abbey joined them. “And so do the dogs. I’ve never seen them behave this way before.”
“Do you think whoever broke in might still be here?” Emma’s question went unanswered as four sets of eyes nervously scanned the area.
An overwhelming need to be with Mark overtook her, and Emma headed into the back room. It was bigger than the front section, separated by an open doorway. A huge steel bathtub took up one wall, and against another were four large animal cages. Each contained a doggie bed in various bright colours, as well as food and water bowls. Cube shelving against the third wall held an assortment of shampoos and soaps, towels and other cleaning paraphernalia.
Mark was standing in the middle of the floor with his back to her. As she approached, he turned and lifted a finger to his lips, indicating to stay quiet. That same hand then stretched towards her and she grabbed hold, immediately calmed by the strength and safety that accompanied it. He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.
He kissed her softly on the cheek, then moved his mouth to her ear. “Listen carefully, Emma.”
His voice was a firm whisper and a shiver of trepidation shot through her belly. She went to move, wanting to see his face, yet his arms tightened, holding her in position.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, but I need you to listen.”
She stilled, willing her heart to stop pumping like a freight train.
Mark kissed her cheek again. “I think there’s someone in the ceiling, and they are most likely watching us through the air vent. I want you to go back to the others, and without alarming them, head outside.” He slid his mouth down her neck, planting slow kisses along the way, pretending it was simply a make-out session instead of an escape plan.
His hands cupped her face, and the way he smiled almost made her forget there was a thief in the roof. But his eyes were serious, searching for a sign that she’d understood. Her own eyes burned with tears, and despite every instinct to scream and protest leaving him behind, she nodded.
Mark’s thumbs skimmed her cheeks, wiping away the tears that refused to stay put. Rising to her tiptoes she pressed her lips to his, not caring about anything other than the need to be close. His breath became ragged as their kiss deepened, and as his arms circled her waist once again, Emma held on tight, wishing she never had to let go.
But reality invaded and he pressed his forehead against hers, doing that thing with his eyes that made her think he could see right into her soul. He kissed the top of her head before stepping away, and they both turned towards the room where the others were waiting.
Dee, Abbey and Harley were crammed into the doorway, mouths agape and eyes wide in surprise.
Dee recovered first. “You guys are together?”
There was no time to respond as a loud crack sounded above. They all looked up as a rain of dust flittered to the floor.
“Get back!” Mark’s orders came half a second before the ceiling gave way, and with it a man, who crashed onto the polished concrete with a perturbing thud.
A cloud of white filled the room making it impossible to see, and amidst the dogs barking and Abbey’s screams, it was hard to tell what was what.
“Is everyone okay?”
Calmed by the sound of Mark’s voice, Emma blinked to clear her vision. Abbey and Harley were in the front room trying to appease the frightened dogs. Dee was crouched in the doorway staring at the hole in her ceiling with a look of pure shock. On the floor, a man laid face down, arms and legs bent at odd angles.
Emma held her breath as Mark moved towards him, checking for signs of life. But in a sudden tumult, the man was off the floor and running. He leaped over Dee, who was still squatting in the doorway, and headed for the exit.
Mark didn’t hesitate, dashing after him in a similar hurdle over Dee, who was now squealing with arms bent protectively over her head. In a move that left Emma thinking he’d probably once been a footballer, Mark launched forward and tackled the thief to the ground. The two men merged into a shadowy blur, and earthy grunts of their struggle filled the air. Emma watched in horror, praying that Mark had the upper hand against the crazy man, whose comeback from a three metre fall made him some kind of superhuman.
But then, just as suddenly as it started, they broke apart, rolling away from each other on the floor. Emma breathed a sigh of relief at the shiny set of handcuffs around the intruder’s wrists, while Chipper pounced on him, growling fiercely to prevent him taking off again.
Mark chuckled through heavy breaths. “Thanks, Chip.”
Emma raced to Mark, kneeling beside him as he sat up and caught his breath. A thin line of blood leaked from his hair down his forehead.
Perhaps it was the shock of everything, her body overdosing on adrenaline, but a strange sensation hit Emma with such force she had to sit back on her heels to prevent toppling sideways. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled longer than usual in an effort to buy some time, and figure out what was happening. But as Mark’s gaze met hers and his lips curled in that way she liked so much, she knew. She was falling for him.
Her brain arced up in defense.
You hardly know him! You’re travelling the country, there’s no time for this! He works twenty-four-seven! There’s a stick up his butt!
Yet none of that mattered.
The man made an attempt to get up again and Emma glanced over, annoyed at the interruption of her thoughts in such a profound moment. She glared at the wriggly bulk beneath Chipper’s paws, and her eyes widened.
“That’s the guy who stole my clothes.”
Chipper growled deeply and the man stilled.
“And I’d hazard a guess he’s also responsible for the break-in last week at the bottle-shop.” Mark pulled the thief to his feet and herded him towards the door, held open by Harley.
They all watched as he was placed in the police car, and Emma swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat at the thought of Mark being at the station with that creep.
Dee moved closer, offering a one-armed hug over her shoulders. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good cop, he knows how to handle himself.”
Some of Emma’s tension drifted away. “You think he’s a good cop?”
“Yeah.” There was an element of surprise in Dee’s voice. “Don’t you? He’s so much better that the one we had before. I mean, Alex was lovely, but Mark? He’s super efficient, gets things done in a jiffy, and always takes people seriously. Every other night, he’s out at Mrs. Gray’s house because she’s nervous about the noises. That fridge of hers.” She shook her head with a laugh. “But Mark always makes time, and never once has he rolled his eyes or insinuated that she’s overreacting. And okay, maybe he’s got a slight personality issue.” She squeezed Emma’s shoulders. “But I have a feeling that’s about to improve.”
An embarrassed heat crept up Emma’s neck and she covered her face as it rose to her cheeks. She laughed into her hands.
Abbey joined in. “So, you and the hunky cop...go girlfriend. I hope that means you’ll be staying in town?”
Reluctantly, Emma emerged from her hidey-hole, not entirely sure she was ready to answer.
“Leave the poor girl alone.” Dee’s chuckle quickly became a groan as she turned to face the mess inside. “What are we going to do about this?”
“We don’t think about it right now.” Harley offered. “We all need coffee and a pastry.”
***
LATER THAT WEEK, EMMA found herself in Casey’s Café, once again faced with the impossible decision of choosing what to eat. The maple-glazed cinnamon scroll called to her, yet so did the plum and ricotta tart. In the end she opted for both.
Juggling the plate of treats and a mug of coffee, she made her way outside to where Chipper was patiently guarding a table. Relaxing into the comfy chair, she took a sip of coffee and watched the action across the street. Workmen moved in and out of The Funny Bone as repairs to the ceiling took place. Dee stood out the front, as always in her faded jeans and Wellingtons, and she waved to Emma before disappearing inside.
How was it that this town had grown on her in such a short time? It was everything a girl could ask for—gorgeous coastal views, friendly people, and heavenly pastries. Had her father somehow envisioned she’d end up here? Known she’d find her lost mojo, meet new friends, and gain the love of a dog? Emma would never fully understand the true objective behind her dad’s actions, but the fact he’d played a role in her reaching this point made her feel closer to him. And perhaps that had been his intention all along.
The table beside her was empty, but someone had left behind a newspaper and she reached for it, hoping for any mention of the robbery. Taking a bite of her scroll, she scanned the stories, and there on the bottom corner of page three was an advertisement—a call for artwork submissions from a gallery in the neighbouring town.
Emma sat up excitedly, sending flaky pieces of pastry down her windpipe. In the midst of a coughing fit, a powerful hand struck her back, helpfully dislodging the obstruction and allowing her to take a proper breath.
“You okay?” Mark asked, rubbing a soothing palm over her back while she recovered.
“Hi. Yes, thanks for that.” Emma watched as he slid into the seat opposite, all too conscious of the spike in her heart rate that had nothing to do with almost choking to death. He looked tired, as though perhaps he hadn’t slept in the two days since she’d last seen him. “Sorry I haven’t been around. Things got pretty hectic.” He stared at his hands for a moment before looking back at her. “Turns out that guy was wanted for a string of crimes in Perth. Had to call in the big guns.”
Her eyes widened with intrigue. “Your dad?” He nodded, not saying anything.
“How did it go?”
Mark sighed, grabbing the tart off her plate. “Mind if I have some?” He smirked at her hesitation and took a bite. “I’ll get you another one, I promise.”
“Sure you will.”
He demolished the entire thing in three mouthfuls.
“Feel better?” She took a sip of coffee and a bite of her scroll, keeping it out of his reach in case he got ideas about stealing that too.
“Much.” He sat back in the chair and took a deep breath. “The last couple of days have been...intense.”
Emma nibbled, waiting for him to continue.
“After what happened at the grooming salon, I took the offender to the station. While he spent time in the cell reflecting on his poor choices, I did some research.”
“And?”
“Five outstanding warrants, and a suspect for twelve robberies down south, three involving assault. Perth were ecstatic when I made the call.”
“So then your father came?”
“With two others. They transported the offender back with them, and Dad stayed. He’s only just left this morning. We talked...a lot. He apologised and we sorted out a few things. I’ll never agree with his behaviour, but apparently, he and Mum have some mutual understanding. I hate it, but they’re adults, they can make their own rules.” He reached for her coffee and took a sip.
She sighed. “You really need to learn not to pinch my food.”
“Sorry.” His laugh was playful, sending dancing butterflies to her belly. “Anyway, the good news is I have a week off.”
“Really?”
“Yep, got approval from the top.”
Emma tilted her head, noticing a shy flush of pink invade his cheeks. “He was proud of you.”
Mark shrugged, but the smile on his face told her how much it meant to him.
She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “He should be proud, you’re an amazing cop. You were incredibly brave. Not just on that occasion, but every day. We’re all safer in this town because of you.”
“Miss O’Neil, I believe you just included yourself amongst the residents of Stonecrest Bay.” His smirk matched the gleam of amusement in his eyes.
It was her turn to shrug. “I’ve been toying with the idea of staying in town a while. Moving around has started to lose its appeal.” She bit her bottom lip, suddenly nervous that her plans might scare him off. “I mean, there’s a gallery calling for submissions and I could maybe work on a painting for that. Plus, Chipper loves it here and I’d feel bad taking him away from his home.”
Mark’s eyebrows rose.
“Okay, I’m keeping him. How could I not? He’s adorable.”
His lips twitched. “You know Dee planned that from the start, right?”
Emma sighed dramatically. “Yeah, I was played. She’s one smart cookie.”
“Any other reason you want to stick around?”
“I like it here.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She grinned. “There’s a guy I find interesting.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s he like?”
“Well, he’s got a bit of an attitude and he steals people’s food.”
Mark’s head fell back as he laughed, his earlier tiredness gone. “There’s no attitude, and I meant it when I said I’d buy you another pie.”
Still laughing he left the table and headed inside, returning with a bulging bag of treats. “I got them to go, come on.”
Emma’s chair scraped noisily in her rush to stand, and she made a swipe for the bag. But Mark was too tall, holding it out of reach.
“Where are we going?” It was an effort to keep her voice casual.
His hand slipped into hers as they walked down the street, Chipper following behind. “It’s a glorious day and I thought we could go for a swim, followed up by a little beach picnic.” Mark gave the bag of pastries in his other hand a shake.
She was dying to know which ones he’d bought. “Sounds perfect, except I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Hasn’t stopped you before.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed.”
Emma’s laugh did little to hide her embarrassment, and she swiftly changed the subject. “What’s on the agenda for your week off?”
Mark let go of her hand and slid his arm around her waist, bringing them closer, their hips touching as they walked. “Well, there’s a girl I find interesting. I’d love to get to know her more. I heard she makes an exceptional flour bomb, and I’m hoping she might teach me.”
Her laugh caught in her throat, coming out as a loud snort. “She sounds fabulous!”
“Definitely. She’s smart and funny, brave and incredibly beautiful.”
With arms slung comfortably around each other’s hips, they crossed the road to the beach. The ocean shimmered under the mid-morning sun, as though millions of crystals sat along the surface. Waves gently broke at the shore, with the calming whoosh that had lulled Emma to sleep each night since arriving in Stonecrest Bay.
Chipper took off, dashing over the sand into the water with a bark that sounded an awful lot like “come join me.” It was hard to believe it had been less than a week since he’d jumped into her car, and into her life.
Mark watched her with a relaxed grin. “So, a painting for the gallery. Does that mean you’ve got your mojo back?”
She tilted her head upwards, smiling into the sun. “Yep.”
“There’s just a tiny flaw in your plan, though.”
Her gaze snapped back to him so fast her neck cracked. “What?”
“Well.” He put the bag of bakery treats down and moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m pretty sure there’s no room at the B&B for an art studio.”
Emma gave a deflated groan, resting her hands on his upper arms. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I could rent a space somewhere, or pray for good weather and set up outside each day for a couple of weeks.”
He kissed the top of her head, lingering long enough to make her heart melt. “Or...you could use the spare room at my place.”
She pulled back, loving the easy smile on his lips, his untroubled expression promoting a sense of calm that quietly seeped its way into her. “You really mean that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you, Mark. That’s incredibly generous.” She wondered whether he’d change his mind once he realised how intensely she poured herself into her art. Her last project had taken over a month and involved countless late nights, with more pizza deliveries at ridiculous hours than she cared to admit.
“I may have an ulterior motive.” His smirk held no ounce of contrition.
“And what would that be?”
“I’m hoping there might be some nights when you want to sleep over. You know, because you’re so tired from a busy day of creativity.”
“Oh, that’s thoughtful. I do get very tired.” Still holding his arms, she skimmed her thumbs over his biceps. “In fact, I’m super tired right now.”
A slow smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Me, too...super tired.”
The playfulness in his eyes transformed to a look so heated she had to grip his arms tighter to prevent crumbling in a lusty heap. She inhaled slowly to steady herself. “Oh, boy.”
His laugh came from deep within his throat. “Did things just get a little hotter? Maybe we should take that swim now and cool down.”
“Great idea. Then eat those pastries before they go stale.”
“Yep.” He was still laughing as he slid off his shoes, pulling his shirt over his head.
Emma gulped at the sight of all those muscles. Flicking off her thongs, she wriggled out of her denim skirt and T-shirt before running down to the water. “Last one in is a—”
Mark scooped her up over his shoulder and plowed them both into the salty water. The shock left Emma breathless, and she launched into revenge mode, jumping on his back in an attempt to push him under. Chipper joined the game, splashing around them excitedly as water sprayed everywhere.
With her arms and legs gripped around his upper body, Emma tried as hard as she could to tip Mark off balance. But even in the throes of laughter he was too strong, and somehow managed to maneuver her from his back onto his front. She stopped resisting.
The water rose slowly to their necks as Mark walked them out deeper, and she adjusted her grip around his body as the ocean took her weight. With a soft growl of protest he tightened his hold, bringing her back snuggly against his hips, her arms over the top of his shoulders.
“I’m really glad you’re staying, Emma.”
She smiled, captivated by the water droplets that fell from his short hair and ran down his cheeks. “Me too. I keep thinking about everything that led me here, and it’s all thanks to Chipper. Wait, where is he?”
They both turned to where the dog stood in the water, frightened to venture any deeper. Emma’s heart practically broke in two. “Oh baby. Come here, you can do it!”
“Come on, little buddy.” Mark encouraged, splashing the surface of the water with his hand.
With an expression that plainly said, I don’t want to, but will because I love you, Chipper started swimming. Then he went under.
“Uh-oh.” They both swam for him.
Mark got there first and pulled the dog safely to shore. Chipper shook his coat dry and stood defiantly for a moment, before making an abrupt turn and padding up the sandy beach to where they’d left their clothes. They’d also left the bag of pastries.
“No!” Emma started running, but it was too late. Chipper found the treasure and tore through the paper bag with a long-ago-mastered expertise. Everything was gone in a matter of seconds. “Oh, Chipper.”
“That’s probably not going to end well.” Mark stood beside her, hands on his hips in disbelief.
She bit her bottom lip. “Please don’t tell Dee about that.”
Mark chuckled, slipping his shirt over his head. “Not a word, or about the near drowning. She’d kill us. I thought all dogs could swim.”
“Me, too. Are we bad fur-parents?”
If he was surprised by his inclusion in that he didn’t show it. “No. Just learning as we go.”
Pulling her clothes on, she prayed he was right. “Promise you won’t say anything?” She held out her right hand for him to shake on the deal.
He used it to tug her into him, pressing his lips against hers. “I promise.”
Emma smiled, kissing him again until they were both breathless.
Hand in hand they meandered along the beach, following Chipper, who sniffed contently at everything he passed, seemingly forgotten his earlier ordeal. It was hard to believe she’d thought a dog wouldn’t fit into her life. Thank goodness she’d had the sense to see that he made it a million times better. Everything about Stonecrest Bay made her life better.
“What are you thinking about?” Mark planted a kiss on the side of her head.
Emma inhaled deeply, loving the blissful joy that soared through her entire body. A buzz of anticipation bounced between them, filled with the exciting hum of potential, not only for their relationship, but everything else that lay ahead.
There was no holding back her smile. “I was thinking about...all the good stuff.”