Chapter Three

      Her admission had Dylan expanding his muscles even more until she thought his shirt would rip off his back Incredible Hulk style.

      “Ex-husband.”

      Peter flashed his white teeth in a smile that looked more like a snarl. “Not yet, cupcake. I haven’t signed those papers.”

      She squared off against him, digging her toes into the dirt, wishing she had on her high heels. “You’d better get to it then, Peter, or else you’ll wind up with nothing.”

      “We’ll see about that. My attorney’s working on a big surprise for you.”

      Dylan stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Peter. She’d rather stare at Dylan’s broad back than Peter’s weasel face, any day.

      “Get moving.”

      Mia had heard that tone from Dylan before, and it brooked no argument, but this time it carried an edge of…violence. She shivered at the distinct chill in the air.

      “Wh-what are you going to arrest me for, Sheriff? I’m just enjoying the night air like you two.”

      Peter had tried to keep the sneer in his voice, but he definitely must’ve felt the chill, too, his words almost ending in a plea.

      “Trespassing. This is private property.”

      “How do you know I didn’t just book a room here?”

      “Because Mia booked all the vacant rooms for privacy.” Dylan took another step forward and placed his hand on the butt of his gun. “Get lost.”

      “Ooh, what are you going to do, shoot me for trespassing?”

      Something in Dylan’s face must’ve given Peter the idea he just might. He spun around on his expensive shoes and called over his shoulder, “This isn’t over, Mia.”

      She poked her head around Dylan’s impressive frame and heaved a sigh when she saw the last of Peter round the corner. “Thank you.”

      Then she sucked in another breath and held it as she stared at Dylan’s straight back. What would he think about her marriage, especially once he knew the reason behind it?

      He turned toward her, his blue eyes dark and unreadable, his expression slightly amused. “How’d you wind up married to a tool like that?”

      She coughed, her hand covering her mouth and hiding her smile. Leave it to Dylan to distill the situation to its purest form. “You don’t want to know.”

      “Sure I do, but tell me in your room. It’s getting chilly out here, and you don’t even have any shoes on.” He took her arm and his touch spread warmth throughout her body.

      No wonder she could never fully commit to Peter, or any man. She’d always compared the men she’d dated to Dylan Reese, and they’d always come up short.

      But Dylan had changed. Would the Dylan of her childhood have accepted the news of her marriage so calmly? She hadn’t noticed one drop of judgment in his face or his voice. Growing up as the Coral Cove police chief’s son, Dylan had held himself to a higher standard than everyone else.

      Not that she could ever live up to it.

      She picked her way over the rocky path to the rooms, and then Dylan curled an arm around her waist and swept her off her feet. “I hope you have several pairs of shoes in your room, or you’ll need to get tougher feet.”

      With Dylan’s arms around her, gathered close to his body, Mia momentarily lost her capacity for speech…for rational thought. She dropped her head to his shoulder and breathed in his masculine scent, clean and outdoorsy.

      Her eyelashes fluttered against his neck and he tightened his grip. Oh, Lord, she’d missed this man. But she’d returned to Coral Cove to take care of business, not to tempt a man she’d written off as too good for her.

      Nothing had changed. Now in addition to her other faults, she’d added a divorce. That made her not only unworthy of the police chief but damaged goods.

      She kicked her legs as they neared her room. “I thought you knew me better than that, Dylan Reese. Where would I be without at least ten pairs of shoes?”

      “Do they all have sky-high heels like that last pair? Because you looked a little overdressed for Coral Cove.”

      “Then it’s a good thing I lost them.” She twirled the key chain around her finger, but he still didn’t put her on her feet, even though they now stood on smooth cement.

      He snatched the key from her hand and unlocked the door. Kicking it open, he carried her across the threshold.

      “I don’t think Gladys is going to appreciate you kicking her doors.”

      Releasing his hold on her, he grinned. “Gladys is a romantic. She’d appreciate the circumstances.”

      Romance? He’d rescued her from a car about to tumble over the side of a cliff, stood up for her against Peter and literally swept her off her feet and carried her over a threshold. Yeah, that all added up to romance…or at least several selfless gestures.

      “So spill.” He parked himself in an uncomfortable-looking chair, as if preparing for an interrogation. “How’d you end up married to Peter…?”

      “Casellas.” She dropped to the bed, bouncing up and down for a few seconds, wondering how much she should tell him. “You know the story about how I showed up here in Coral Cove with a boyfriend, Raoul, whom my sister promptly stole from me.”

      He crossed an ankle over his knee. “Yeah. I was here for about two minutes when you arrived. Marissa was engaged to Tyler Davis at the time—Mayor Tyler Davis now, who happens to be the biggest pain in my… Go on.”

      “Well, after they ran off, I hightailed it out of here, and a lot of people figured I’d had my heart broken.”

      “I didn’t figure that when I heard about it.”

      “No?” A warm flush crept up her throat. Did Dylan realize nobody could break her heart because she’d kept it wrapped up in gauze for him?

      “You’re not the running kind and you’re not the heartbroken kind. But keep going.”

      She scooped in a breath