Page 34 of Seducing the Sheriff
“How rare do you like your meat?”
I stood poised with a spatula at the small portable, covered grill, lid raised. We’d bought all the supplies in town before we made our way back. In other words, spent over an hour between the hardware store and market. Not only hadn’t I stocked up on grills and charcoal yet, but there wasn’t a condiment to be found in my barren kitchen.
Neither of us had commented on the occasional curious glances as we did our shopping, but I was sure I wasn’t imagining things. After all, I was still the dead body guy who’d recently moved into town, and he was the hot sheriff. If I weren’t in the middle of the saga, I’d be wondering what was going on behind the scenes, too.
On the other hand, I really was wondering. I was about to take a leap into the unknown. Yes, we’d become more flirtatious as the day wore on, but that wasn’t a guarantee that my next move would work. I wasn’t exactly known as the master of seduction.
Cash dropped down off the deck. I’d set the grill up in an open area in the dirt about ten feet from the house. Since I hadn’t been able to put up the steps or railings yet, minor leaps were necessary. Cash approached me, his relaxed gait something I found particularly alluring when viewed from behind, but not so bad from the front either.
“What did you say about my meat?” He handed me an open beer bottle, his half-finished one in his opposite hand. “I figured the heat might be making you thirsty.”
He didn’t know the half of it. I accepted the cool bottle. “Thanks. And I was curious about how much pink you like in your burgers.”
“Ohhh…” Cash snapped his fingers. “Darn. That’s what you meant.”
I was sure my cheeks were already flushed from the heat emanating from the coals, so I figured he’d never guess I was blushing.
I averted my eyes, fixing my gaze on the patties as I poked the edges to keep them from affixing themselves to the rack. “So what's the verdict?”
In my peripheral vision, I caught Cash taking a big swig of his drink. “Medium well is good.”
I chuckled shakily. “Great, me too. One more flip should do it.”
“Sounds good. I’ll grab the tomatoes and lettuce.”
He patted my shoulder, and I tried not to shiver beneath his touch. As soon as he’d slipped back into the door off the kitchen, I sucked in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. I hoped I survived dinner.
For the next half hour, we enjoyed our meal, paper plates balanced on our laps, our beers perched on an upturned plastic tub I’d used in my move. That, and the molded plastic chairs from the hardware store, were my new—albeit temporary—patio furniture.
I drained my beer, then set the empty bottle down, steadying the wobbling glass before it crashed onto the deck.
“Well,” I said. “It’s officially porch time, so I need another drink.”
Cash snorted out a laugh as I rose. ”What’s porch time?”
I gestured to the open desert landscape. “The sun is setting low in the sky, which represents the official end of my workday. Which also means I’m ready to relax outside when the weather permits.”
“Ah, I see.” Cash smiled. “Are there different porch time rules for winter?”
I placed my hands on my hips, taking in the gorgeous view of the dusk. An ambient glow of goldenrod yellow with a tinge of apricot orange touched the horizon, and a measure of peace filled my chest. What a beautiful place to call home.
I let out a soft hum. “Rules? Not really. That’s been the blessing of working for myself. If it’s rainy or cold, I kick back on the sofa and watch TV.” I chuckled. “When I have a sofa, that is. In the summer, when the days are longer, I go with how I feel. Although half the time I work until I’m too tired to go on.”
I stopped myself from adding the part where I didn’t stop because what was the point? It wasn’t as if anyone was waiting for me to sit down and spend time with them at the end of the day. I swallowed hard and ran my fingers through my hair.
“So, another beer?”
I regarded Cash, noting the slight wrinkling of his brow. “Sure. I’d like to share porch time with you.”
“Cool.”
I quickly turned before he spotted the tears welling in my eyes. After going inside, I took a quick trip to the bathroom so I could splash some water on my face. Getting lost in a personal pity party wasn’t going to forward my romantic mission.
I managed to pull myself together, reminding myself there was a tall, ruggedly handsome sheriff on my deck waiting for me. Looking a gift horse in the mouth was a sin under these circumstances.
“Here you go.”
I returned to the deck, beer in hand, then took a seat next to Cash. I may or may not have scooted the chair closer, angling it to my best advantage. He accepted my offering, giving me a wink as he took the bottle from my hands. Our fingers brushed, and I froze.
