Page 43 of Dairy and Deadly

“That honesty is the best policy when it comes to things like that.” His voice was flat as he backed from his parking spot and drove from the lot.

“I haven’t made you any promises, Johnny.” It was only right to remind him of that.

“I haven’t asked you to.” He slung a cocky grin at her. “Yet.”

His smile had the usual effect on her — turning her insides deliciously melty. It wasn’t a feeling she’d be wise to indulge in too often while working a homicide case.

“You’re impossible.” She turned to stare blindly out the window.

“Nothing is impossible,” he retorted. “Not with God and not with us. I agree that the timing is off. Assuming my brother-in-law hasn’t already blabbed to you about it, you’re not the only one nursing a broken heart.”

She drew a deep breath before answering. “He blabbed about it.”

“Figured as much.” He sounded glum.

Ashley steered the conversation to safer ground. “What’s with all his buttering up to Caro today? The other day, he said she wasn’t his type.”

Johnny huffed out a breath. “He doesn’t have a type.”

She frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he doesn’t date anymore. Not since his accident.”

“At all?” That surprised her.

“At all.”

“Why?” She imagined lots of women found him fun and humorous to be around.

He continued staring straight ahead. “Lost his sister. My wife,” he clarified, though she already knew that. “Then almost lost his leg. He’s pretty self-conscious about his limp.”

“He shouldn’t be,” she declared emphatically. “Not only is he an amazing guy, lots of women dig a wounded hero.”

“Maybe in the movies.” Johnny didn’t sound impressed.

“Scarred heroes are a thing,” she insisted with a chuckle. “And not just in the movies.”

“Good to know.” He turned onto the gravel road leading back to his farm. “If you’re looking for scars, most of mine are on the inside, darling.”

“I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through,” she said softly. “I truly am.”

“Right back atcha.” He parked and killed the motor, but he didn’t immediately open his door. “If you think for one second I don’t understand how the loss of your partner weighs on you, Ash…”

“I can’t do this,” she muttered, fumbling for the door handle. “I’m still not ready to talk about it.”

“Then we’ll talk about something else.” He swiveled her way, making her hand grow still on the door handle. “Tell me why you sent an anonymous tip to the police about Caro Madison.”

“Johnny!” Her hand fell limply back to her lap.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?” There was a note of accusation in his voice and something akin to hurt.

Her mind swam with confusion. “Is that the whole reason you’ve been getting close to me?”

“You know it isn’t,” he retorted angrily. “Quit dodging the question.”

“I had my reasons for wanting to remain anonymous.”

“And still do, apparently.” His jaw tightened.

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