Page 10 of Perfectly Grumpy

“Oh, really?” she says, crossing her arms. “How?”

“They’re alphabetized…by color.”

She blinks. “You alphabetized your socks.”

I nod. “Does that change your opinion of me?”

She laughs. “Honestly, it just confirms my theory that there’s a whole side of you no one’s seen yet—and I kind of want to.”

The lights in the elevator blink, and I stiffen.

“You okay?” she whispers, reaching out. Her fingers brush my arm, and something zips beneath my skin.

I don’t answer right away. She moves closer, her eyes steady on mine—calm and way too beautiful for someone witnessing me like this.

“You didn’t have to distract me,” I say, even though she’s the only thing making me feel safe right now.

“I know,” she replies gently. “But I wanted to.”

She’s not justadistraction. She’sthedistraction.

There’s a beat of silence before she pulls away.

“I could keep talking,” she offers, her tone lighter. “Quote a movie? I do a mean Sicilian fromThe Princess Bride.”

“You know,” I say carefully, “I always thought you were just naturally upbeat. But you’re really just over-caffeinated, aren’t you?”

“I am heavily caffeinated. But also, stubbornly persistent.”

I tilt my head, considering. “I wouldn’t say stubborn.”

“No?”

I shake my head. “More like…a lot of sunshine. Relentless, blinding sunshine.”

She looks at me playfully. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“From me? Absolutely.” I smirk. “Enjoy it, Sunny.”

She stares at me, stunned. “Did you just call me…Sunny?”

“If the shoe fits…” I begin.

“Says the man not wearing any,” she deadpans. “You can’t call me Sunny in public.”

“Why not?”

“Because if the team hears it, I’ll never live it down. I’ll be Sunny for the rest of my life. Just like you’re Sheriff.”

“Welcome to the club.” I grin at her. “Nicknames mean you’re one of the team.”

“Well, Rourke doesn’t have a nickname.”

“Actually, he does,” I say. “It’s just classified.”

“Well, I’m not answering to Sunny,” she says, but I can see the smile she’s fighting. The one that tells me she likes to hear me call her that, even if no one else is allowed.

“And you think I want to be Sheriff? You know why they started that?”

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