Page 32 of Surly Sheriff
Rae blinked at his obvious change of subject. “Both were executives working in Omaha,” she replied, closing the door behind her, “but preferred raising their children outside the city. But with their kids grown, they are retiring to the coast. SouthCarolina, I think Nancy said. They’re moving at the end of next month.”
He crossed the open plan area to the bay window at the far end of the kitchen. A small round table with two chairs occupied the area. And she couldn’t help but picture them enjoying meals together.
As a couple. Daily.
Shaking her head at her flight of fancy — she blamed the man for carrying her acrossthefreakingthreshold— she cleared her throat, but all she could come up with was an inane comment. “It’s pretty out back.”
“Yeah.”
The pitter-patter of a returning Kismet gave her an out of an awkward moment. “Hey, boy.” She patted her thigh and the dog moved to her side. “Done exploring your new home?”
“Woof!” He turned in a circle and sat on his haunches, an adoring look in his eyes.
She chuckled and crouched, giving him a quick but solid rub.
“Looks like he’s transferred loyalties,” Beau said, a wry touch in his tone.
Straightening, she met his stare across the room and opened her mouth to speak.
But he beat her to it. “About …” He trailed off, looking toward the entrance.
She held her hands up, palms facing him. “I’m not reading anything into it.”
“Good. Chalk it up to …” He frowned and rubbed his hand across his jaw.
“A flight of fancy,” she supplied, forcing her tone light.
At the relief on his face, a sharp pain pierced her soul. He, too, did not want anything permanent. But why did the notion hurt so damned much when it aligned with her wishes?
His cellphone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. “It’s Nate,” he said and answered.
Rae couldn’t hear the man on the other side, but Beau’s responses indicated something had happened. “Is it Bella?” she asked, grabbing his arm when he disconnected the call.
He shook his head, stuffing the cellphone back into his pocket. “No. The Fishers’ vehicle broke down on the other side of Kansas City. Nate’s going to go collect them. It’s a seven-hour round trip. He needs his truck” — he huffed — “and someone to stay at the house with Bella.” His gaze shot to the front door, then back at her. “Will you be okay?”
“Of course.”
He glanced at the entrance again. “You need anything, call me.” A deep furrow formed between his eyes. “Does Bella have your cellphone number?”
“Don’t have one.”
He blinked. Twice. “You don’t have a cellphone?”
“No need for one.”
“This place have a phone?”
“No.”
“Dammit, Rae. You can’t stay here alone without means to call for help.”
“I have Kismet.”
He swore again, pulled out his cellphone and held it out to her. “Here. Keep this tonight.”
“I’ll be fine, Beau.”
“Take it, Raegan,” he ordered.
