Page 19 of Redeeming Melodies

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. "You don't know the first thing about me or what I care about."

"I know enough." I let my flashlight beam sweep over his bruised knuckles again. "Rough night, Mr. Blue?"

"Observant, aren't you?" Those green eyes narrowed. "Bet that comes in handy keeping the peace in..." He made a show of looking around. "Whatever this place is called."

“I am pretty sure that you’ve seen the sign but it is Oakwood Grove." Why did his dismissal of my town bother me so much? "Population small enough that we notice trouble when it rolls in."

"And what kind of trouble do you think I am, Sheriff?" The question carried an edge, but something else too - almost like he was genuinely asking.

I studied him for a moment, taking in the expensive clothes that couldn't quite hide his tension, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"I think you're the kind of trouble that's running from something," I said finally. "And I think you picked the wrong town to use as your escape route."

His facade cracked slightly, surprise flickering across his face before he masked it. "Quite the psychologist for a small-town sheriff."

"Part of the job." I shrugged, trying to ignore how those green eyes seemed to see right through my own professional mask. "Along with keeping city boys from treating our streets like their personal therapy session."

He opened his mouth to argue, then surprisingly, laughed - a genuine sound that transformed his whole face. "Fuck, you don't back down, do you?"

"Not in my job description." I found myself fighting a smile, which was absurd given the situation. "Neither is standing here arguing with stubborn rich boys at midnight."

Something dark passed behind his eyes at that, but he didn't correct me. The moment hung between us, heavy with unspoken stories.

I should write him a ticket and send him on his way. Instead, I found myself wanting to understand what had driven this man to my quiet corner of the world.

Damn it, Thompson. Focus.

"Look," I said, forcing myself back to professional distance. "Whatever you're running from, whatever brought you here - that's your business. But in my town, we follow the rules. Clear?"

He held my gaze for a long moment, that strange tension crackling in the space between us. "Crystal, Sheriff." A pause, then: "Any other rules I should know about?"

The question carried a weight I wasn't ready to examine. "Just one," I managed. "Don't make me regret giving you a warning instead of a ticket."

His smile was quick and sharp. "No promises. I'm not great with authority."

"I hadn't noticed." The dry response came automatically, drawing another laugh from him.

Something in that laugh caught me off guard - a rawness that didn't match his polished exterior. The bruised knuckles, the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes kept darting toward the town like he was weighing options I couldn't see. None of it added up to just another rich guy joy-riding through small-town America.

I'd seen that look before, in the mirror during my darkest days. The look of someone running on empty, searching for somewhere to land before they crashed completely.

Fuck. I was going to regret this.

"Listen," I said, keeping my tone professional despite the odd pull I felt to help him. "It's late, you're obviously dealing with something, and Oakwood Grove isn't the worst place to catch your breath."

Those green eyes snapped back to mine, suspicious and curious all at once. "That your professional opinion, Sheriff?"

"Actually, it's my professional concern that you'll wrap that expensive car around one of our trees if you keep driving tonight." I gestured toward the town lights below. "We've got a decent inn just off Main Street. Clara's Place. Clean rooms, no questions asked."

He studied me for a long moment, that earlier defiance softening into something more complex. "Why do you care?"

The question caught me off balance. Why did I care? This guy had done nothing but challenge my authority and mock my town since I'd pulled him over. Yet something about him...

"Part of the job," I said finally, though we both knew that was bullshit. "Besides, paperwork's a bitch if you crash in my jurisdiction."

His mouth twitched. "Always the dedicated lawman?"

"Something like that." I shifted my weight, suddenly aware of how close I was still standing to his window. "Look, take the suggestion or don't. But if you're running from something, sometimes a quiet town's the best place to figure out your next move."

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