Page 3 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“Look, uh, sir, I’m not ... This isn’t ... Is everything okay?” Her voice broke on the last word.

That was most definitelynotwhat Ellie would do. Ellie would already have this guy grinning and waving her on her way. Either that,or her sister would lead him on a merry chase through the forest, get arrested, and somehow garner sympathy from half the island for her misdeeds.

Daphne glanced at the trees on the other side of the ditch lining the road. Could she ...?

No. God, no. The fact that she’d even considered making a run for it was proof that she was spiraling out of control. She glanced sideways at the deformed container of ice cream like it was to blame for all of this.

“Do you know why I stopped you?” There was a hint of something in the deputy’s voice. Something Daphne couldn’t place. An edge. Who was he?

“Was I speeding?” she guessed, knowing she hadn’t been.

“Have you been drinking tonight?”

“I had a glass of wine with dinner,” she admitted, “but that was three hours ago.” The party at her parents’ house was probably still going, but Daphne had left early and decided not to drink any more. She tended to get weepy with alcohol. Crying when she was supposed to be celebrating her sister’s engagement was not what she wanted to do to set tongues wagging so soon after she’d arrived on the island.

Sheknew her life was just one more disaster away from falling apart completely. That didn’t mean she wanted to announce it to everyone else.

“Step out of the vehicle, ma’am.”

Now he was calling her “ma’am.” “Is this necessary?” she complained.

“Step out of the vehicle,” he repeated, his voice hard.

Daphne sighed and unclipped her seat belt. She opened the door and slid out, scowling as a fat raindrop landed on her nose. A gust of wind reminded her that her crotch was wet and cold. She planted her hands on her hips and lifted her gaze to meet—

“Flint?” she blurted out. “Calvin Flint?”

“That’s Sheriff Flint to you,” he said, tilting his head up so the light from his truck illuminated his face.

Daphne’s stomach sank. This was just wonderful. Of all the people on all the islands ...

Yeah, he was local. A local pain in her ass.

But she couldn’t help the pop of her brow or the words that slipped out of her lips next. “Shouldn’t that beActingSheriff Flint?” She blinked at him, angelic. “Sir?”

The former sheriff, Bill Jackson, had been arrested and charged for taking bribes on the job. Most of the department had gotten the boot in an event that had fueled island gossip for a year and a half. The dust had settled and the election for the next sheriff had been scheduled for the fall, but the chaos in the ranks of Fernley law enforcement was one of the reasons Daphne was here in the first place.

Apparently, it was one of the reasons Calvin freaking Flint was here too.

Flint’s jaw clenched. He was clean shaven, but the shadow of his beard told her it had been hours since a razor had touched his skin. His eyes were the same hard chips of hazel she remembered from nineteen years ago, watching her like she wasn’t worth the dirt under his gleaming black boots.

“Maybe I should get you to call me ‘boss’ instead,” he suggested, eyes narrowing slightly. “Unless I read the wrong name on the paperwork this morning.”

Oh, that was rich. He thought that, just because he wore a shiny new badge, he could push her around? Calvin Flint, of all people?

She snorted. That wasn’t surprising. The Calvin Flint she’d known was a vindictive, sniveling worm who enjoyed prodding people until they snapped.

The good girl inside Daphne stepped aside, replaced with a creature made of snark and backbone. A creature that had been tucked in a cage and starved for a long, long time. A creature that looked at her supposed rebellion with the ice cream and said,That’s cute.

She smiled politely. “Technically, your department hired me as a consultant. So you’re my client, not my boss. If that concept is confusingto you, I can try to explain it again. I know these things can sometimes be difficult to understand.” Her smile turned vicious. “Sir.”

She was making it worse. She could tell by the way Flint’s shoulders stiffened and the corners of his lips turned down.

Good. Served him right. Not that she was bitter about old high school bygones, but still. She and Flint weren’t going to be besties anytime soon, even if they would be working together.

The rain came down heavier around them. The sheriff—actingsheriff—arched a dark brow. “Still the same know-it-all as you were at seventeen, huh. You haven’t changed a bit.”

Daphne stiffened. “Why am I standing here in the rain instead of warm in my bed, Flint? Or do you enjoy accosting women on deserted stretches of road at night? Is that why you joined the force? Being a dropout wasn’t working for you, so you decided to lord your authority over anyone unlucky enough to step onto your turf?”

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