Falling for the Sheriff. Tanya Michaels
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instant reaction to someone.
Was his interest visible in his expression? That could explain the waves of hostility rolling off her son as Cole introduced himself.
From behind him, Alyssa’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Daddy, can I have a candy bar?”
He turned, shaking his head. “A candy bar will ruin your appetite.”
“But I’m hungggrrry.” She drew out the word in a nasal whine.
“Which is why I’m taking you to dinner.” They’d only stopped because Mandy had insisted she needed to go to the bathroom and couldn’t wait another ten minutes to reach the restaurant; apparently, seeing him doused with soda had temporarily distracted her. “If Mandy will—”
“It’s not fair!” Alyssa’s lower lip trembled. “I didn’t get to go swimming like you said. They ran out of the color I needed to finish my picture at art camp. I don’t—”
“That’s enough,” he said firmly.
But Mandy, who could barely agree with her sister on the color of the sky, picked now of all times to demonstrate twin solidarity. She took a step closer to Alyssa. “It’s mean you won’t let her have a candy bar.”
He fought the urge to glance back at the woman with sun-streaked hair and beautiful eyes. Did she think he was inept at handling his own children? “You’re supposed to be in the bathroom,” he reminded Mandy. “If you’d hurry, we could be on our way to the Smoky Pig by now. But if the two of you don’t stop talking back, we’re headed straight home. Understand?”
The threat of having to return home and wait for Cole to cook something motivated Mandy. She navigated the tight aisles of chips and road maps in a rush. He returned his gaze to the woman. The gangly boy who’d called her mom had wandered away to refill his soda cup.
“Kids,” Cole said sheepishly. “You have days like this?”
“With a teenager?” She laughed, her dark gold eyes warm and understanding. “Try every day.”
“I keep waiting for single parenting to get easier, but sometimes I question whether I’m making any progress.”
She nodded. “Same here.”
So, she was single, too? That thought cheered him more than it should. He didn’t even know her name. Nonetheless, he grinned broadly.
She returned the smile, but then ducked her gaze to the sodden napkins in her hand. “I, uh, should throw these away.” As she walked toward the trash can, he couldn’t help but appreciate the fit of her denim shorts.
Quit leering—there are children present. Well, one of his children, anyway. He turned to see if Alyssa had forgiven him yet. In his peripheral vision, he caught the blonde’s son pressing a quick finger to his lips as if sharing a secret with Alyssa. The boy quickly dropped his hand and moved away. Alyssa frowned at her purse.
“Sorry again about the soda.” The blonde was back, her tone brisk, as if she wanted to put their encounter behind her. “And good luck with the parenting.”
Cole hated to let her go. He wanted to know who she was and why she was here. Was she visiting someone in Cupid’s Bow or simply passing through on her way elsewhere? Maybe he would have asked if she hadn’t seemed so anxious to go. Or if he weren’t busy puzzling over Alyssa’s strange expression.
“Good luck to you, too,” he said.
With a nod, the blonde walked away, holding the door open for her son.
“Can we go now?” Mandy rejoined them, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m starving!”
“Same here.” He ruffled her hair, but kept his gaze on his other daughter. “What about you, Alyssa?”
She jerked her gaze up from her purse, a flush staining her cheeks. Even someone without Cole’s training in suspicious behavior would have spotted the guilt in her eyes.
“What have you got in your purse?” he asked.
“N-nothing.” She clutched the small sequined bag to her body.
He held out his hand, making it clear he wanted to see for himself.
Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled a candy bar from her purse. “B-but I didn’t take it! That boy gave me it.”
Cole’s blood pressure skyrocketed. Alyssa was, by nature, a sweet, quiet girl, but throughout her kindergarten year—after every field trip or class party where other students had mothers present—she’d grown increasingly unpredictable. The teacher who had once praised his daughter’s reading skill and eager-to-please disposition had started calling Cole about behavior problems, including a memorable graffiti incident. Now some punk was trying to turn Alyssa into a shoplifter, too? Hell, no.
* * *
“HEY!”
Kate jumped at the angry boom, nearly dropping her car keys. She turned to see Cole Trent, the single dad who’d melted her insides with his smile. He wasn’t smiling now.
He strode across the parking lot like a man on a mission. One of his daughters was sobbing. The other looked grimly fascinated, as if she’d never expected a simple pit stop to be so eventful.
“Aw, crap.” Luke’s barely audible words—and the resignation in them—caused Kate’s heart to sink.
Not again. Not here! In her mind, she’d built up Cupid’s Bow as a safe haven. But how could you escape trouble when it was riding shotgun?
“What did you do?” she demanded in a low voice.
He slouched, not meeting her eyes. “It was only an eighty-nine cent candy bar. Jeez.”
Cole reached them in time to hear her son’s careless dismissal, his blue eyes bright with righteous fury. “It’s more than a candy bar, young man. It’s stealing.”
Kate’s stomach churned. “You stole?”
Cole’s gaze momentarily softened as he glanced at her, registering her stress. When he spoke again, his tone was calmer. “Perhaps I should reintroduce myself. I’m Sheriff Cole Trent. What’s your name, son?”
“Luke,” he muttered.
“And did you put that candy bar in Alyssa’s purse?” the sheriff asked in an unyielding, don’t-even-think-about-lying tone.
The boy hunched his shoulders. “I felt bad for her.”
Was that even true, Kate wondered, or had her son simply seized an opportunity for petty defiance?
Cole gave his sniffling daughter a stern look. “Luke may have been the one to take the candy bar, but you should have put it back. Or told me what happened. Other people’s bad behavior is no excuse for acting badly yourself.”
Terrific. Now her son was a cautionary tale for younger children.
“The two of you are going back inside to admit what you did and apologize to Mr. Jacobs,” Cole said.
His daughter gulped. The man behind the counter had smiled pleasantly at Kate, but she could see where his towering height, all black clothing and tattooed arms might intimidate a little girl.
“While you’re there,” Kate told Luke, “ask what you can do to make up for it.” He was too young for an official part-time job, but it was clear Kate needed to find ways to keep him busy and out of trouble. “Maybe they could use a volunteer to come by a few times a week and pick up litter in the parking lot.”
Cole’s gaze swung to her. “A few times a week? So you aren’t just passing through or visiting? You’re sticking around?”
Was that surprise she heard in his voice, or dread? Given his duty to maintain law and order in the county, he probably didn’t relish the idea of