Page 14 of Call it Reckless

Too late to turn back, I took a moment to appreciate the details of the architecture. Gingerbread siding covered the upper turrets. The wraparound front porch had hand-turned rails, balusters, and decorative finials. It was the kind of craftsmanship very few people knew how to do today.

I could imagine coming home to this house and relaxing on the front porch swing or one of the rocking chairs, sipping a cold beer after a long day. I could envision Lexi turning cartwheels in the front yard while I watched and listened to someone singing in the kitchen as they cooked dinner.

But that was all part of a fantasy. Abby was gone. I had no need for such a big house without her.

Pulling myself from my morose thoughts, I grabbed the two paper bags from my passenger seat and headed to the front door. Lifting the brass knocker, I started to rap on the door but paused when I heard muffled grunting and what sounded like a struggle in the large entranceway I knew lay beyond the door.

“Ouch! Shit.”

I heard more strangled words, followed by more grunts and a thud.

“Move, you son of a bitch.”

What the hell? Was someone trying to hurt her?

I didn’t stop to ask questions. My hand went straight for the doorknob, glad when it turned easily in my hand. Ready to face off with an intruder, I stopped short when I saw Bristol standing with her back to me, hands on her hips. Her shoulders rose and fell as she sucked in deep breaths.

In front of her, halfway between the entrance and the next room, was a piece of furniture close to my height. It had a bench at the bottom with a tall back that contained hooks at the top. My mother-in-law had a piece like it in her mudroom. I knew from experience those things were heavy as hell. But there was no one else in sight.

“What’s going on?” I demanded as if I had every right to not only be in the know but in the house.

Bristol whirled toward me, her long ponytail whipping around until it smacked her in the face before settling on her shoulder. Dark eyes blazed as her hands rose before her in a martial arts stance. As soon as she saw it was me, she dropped them and relaxed her posture, but not her anger.

“What the hell, Deputy? Do you make a habit of barging into people’s homes without warning?”

I stood momentarily speechless. Not just out of relief that she wasn’t being attacked, but at the picture of the goddess-like warrior in front of me. The lift of her chin. The fearless glint in her eyes. Those long legs, whose tone was shown off by the tight leggings she wore. The bead of sweat that ran from the graceful curve of her neck toward the shadow between her breasts made the number 56 and the name Allen on her shirt pop out.

I cleared my throat, annoyed at how attractive I found her fire. She wasn’t anything like Abby, who was all soft curves and gentle words. “I’m sorry. I started to knock, but it sounded like a fight was going on.”

“So, you just broke in again? Geez, Deputy, I’m starting to think you have a hero complex.”

My teeth ground together. “It’s my job.”

“And my house is always on your beat? Or am I your personal assignment? My babysitter, perhaps?”

I closed my eyes, biting back the retort that maybe she needed one. “Actually, I just got off duty. I came with a peace offering and got sidetracked when I thought you might need help.” I held up the bags that were now wrinkled from my clutch.

Her eyes narrowed on the bags. “What’s that?” Her posture relaxed, but her tone was still suspicious.

“I know Cooper’s Hardware is closed on Sundays.”

It wasn’t convenient, but Merle Cooper, the owner, kept long hours the rest of the week. Locals were used to it, so it wasn’t a big deal except for when tourists were passing through, and they rarely needed anything that wasn’t carried in one of our other stores. But electrical supplies were different.

“I got Merle to open up for me to get some fuses so you would have electricity everywhere until the box gets switched out.”

“You did that for me?” For the first time, she didn’t sound hostile.

“All part of my hero complex,” I said jokingly.

“Well, at least you used the front door this time.” She pinched her nose before blowing out a long breath. “That was thoughtful of you. Thank you. I was just going to sleep in another room, but now you’ve given me an excuse to keep all those decorative pillows Cam used to decorate my bed on the floor.”

I held up the other bag. “And this is my peace offering. Fried apple pie from Ruth’s. A little birdie told me it’s your favorite.”

She stared at me for a few seconds as if looking for an ulterior motive. Then she leaped for the bag, snatching it from my hands and holding it to her nose, breathing deeply.

“Mmm. It’s still warm, too.” Dark eyes met mine over the top of the paper. “Thank you.”

I nodded toward the large wood-backed bench. “You want some help to move that?”

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