Page 48 of Mountain Man Officer

“And say what? That we messed up?”

“That wasn’t me.”

“They’re not going to care.”

We listened to the entire minute-long recording twice before Jason responded. “This is big,” he said. “Can you send me the file?”

I nodded, scooping up my phone and sending the recording to him via text.

“This was really brave of you.” He kissed me on the cheek.

“Ava thinks we should talk to Katrina, the owner,” I said.

Jason shook his head. “Please don’t. I’m not sure who is involved and to what extent. At this point, your safest bet is to come to me or Ryan with any concerns.”

I threaded my fingers together nervously. “That’s what I thought.”

“Do you feel safe there?” he asked.

I thought for a moment, then nodded. “I do, but I don’t know for how much longer.”

He studied my face, eyes soft and protective. “It will all be over soon, I hope. Are you ready for our date tomorrow?”

I laughed spontaneously. “I have to admit that I’m a little nervous. The, um… I like you.” I had wanted to say the sex was great, but I lost my nerve. I wanted to explain all the concerns I had about dating my landlord, but that didn’t feel right either. When all other words failed, I fell back on the truth. I did like him. I wanted desperately to communicate that, but I was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He nodded. “I’m nervous too. This whole landlord and tenant thing…”

“Right,” I agreed.

We shared a laugh. It was a good laugh, shedding our mutual discomfort. In just a few words, we had managed to find a viable solution to the problem that had been plaguing us since we had met. We would take a step back from our passionate lovemaking and establish a relationship first. I liked him, he liked me, and we would mutually decide to ignore the landlord/tenant issue. It was a win-win. I couldn’t wait for Friday. I could put aside all my concerns about the hair salon and just enjoy a night out with my new guy. I decided to call it a night and stole one more kiss before heading to bed.

19

JASON

We went outside of Singer’s Ridge to a neighboring town just a few miles down the road. They had an Italian restaurant with tablecloths and candles, a nice romantic place. Dillon and I held out the chairs for Macy and Lindsey, acting like perfect gentlemen. I was wearing a suit jacket and tie, with dark blue jeans and my favorite boots. Lindsey was dressed in that hot little black number from the Lucky Lady, giving me a full view of her luscious legs.

“This is so fancy,” Macy whispered when we were all seated.

“You should see some of the restaurants in Nashville,” I said. “Seventy dollars for a plate of four shrimp.”

Lindsey laughed in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” I deadpanned, only making her laugh more.

“When were you ever at a seventy-dollar-a-plate joint?” Dillon accused.

“It was for a case,” I said. “Kitchen staff was dealing cocaine.”

“I don’t think you’ll find anything like that here,” Macy said innocently.

Lindsey and I shared a pregnant glance. Dillon caught on but said nothing.

“Here’s something.” Macy pointed to her menu, “Manicotti, seventeen dollars.”

I scanned my menu. “Almond-crusted tilapia, twenty-three.”

“A bottle of wine, forty-five,” Lindsey crowed triumphantly.

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