Page 30 of Redeeming Melodies

"So what made you stop running?" His voice had dropped lower, more intimate.

"Realized I was tired." I shrugged, hyper-aware of how close we were sitting. "Tired of pretending, tired of hiding. Found out it's easier to face your demons in a place where people actually give a damn about helping you fight them."

Elliot's laugh was soft, almost surprised. "And they say small towns don't have philosophers."

"We've got all types." I smiled despite myself. "Even reformed speed demons, if they stick around long enough."

"Is that an invitation, Sheriff?" The way he said it - playful but with an undercurrent of something else - made my pulse jump.

"Just an observation." I forced my voice to stay steady, ignoring whatever this tension was between us.

"Like moss?" But his smile had turned genuine, warming those green eyes in a way that definitely didn't make my stomach flip.

"More like roots." I stood up, needing some distance from the strange pull I felt toward him. "Give it a chance. You might be surprised."

He watched me move away, that intensity back in his gaze. "And if I don't want roots?"

"Then you're free to leave." I met his eyes one last time. "But something tells me you're tired of running too."

The words hung between us, heavy with meaning neither of us was ready to examine. Nina appeared with another water, breaking the moment.

"One more drink?" Elliot asked, leaning closer. The whiskey had softened his sharp edges, making him look younger, more vulnerable. "Keep the town sheriff company for a while?"

"Pretty sure you've had enough company from that bottle tonight." I tried to keep my voice professional despite the way his proximity made my skin buzz. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Afraid I'll corrupt your small-town virtue?" His grin turned wicked, green eyes sparkling with challenge. "Come on, Jake. Live a little."

The way he said my name - dropping the 'Sheriff' for the first time - shouldn't have affected me like it did. "My virtue's not the issue here. You've got somewhere to be tomorrow, I'm sure."

"Do I?" He shifted, his shoulder brushing mine. "Maybe I like it here. Maybe I'll stick around, become a model citizen. Learn to appreciate fairy lights and town gossip."

"Right now you need to appreciate some water and sleep."

"Always so responsible." He studied my face, too close for comfort. "Do you ever just... let go? Stop being the perfect sheriff for five minutes?"

"Someone's got to keep the peace."

"And that someone's always got to be you?" His voice softened, genuinely curious now. "Sounds lonely."

The observation hit closer to home than I wanted to admit. "Part of the job."

"Bullshit. That's not why you do it.”

"Caring's not a weakness, you know," I managed, trying to maintain some professional distance despite the heat of his leg against mine.

"Why do you care?" He wasn't challenging now, just curious. "I'm just another problem for you to solve, right?"

"Is that what you think this is?"

"Isn't it?" He leaned forward, close enough that I could smell his cologne mixed with whiskey. "The noble sheriff, saving another lost soul?"

Something in my chest tightened. "You don't need saving, Elliot. Just... direction maybe."

"And you're offering to point the way?" That teasing note was back in his voice, but underneath it, something more vulnerable lurked.

"I'm offering to make sure you get back to Clara's in one piece." I stood up, needing space from whatever was building between us. "Come on. I'll walk you."

"Such a gentleman." He rose too, swaying slightly. Before I could step back, his hand landed on my shoulder to steady himself. "Always doing the right thing."

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