Page 9 of Seducing the Sheriff
When I pulled into Bobcat, the diner—aptly named after the town—was the first building to my right. The freshly painted peach-colored stucco stood in contrast to the more faded look of the rest of Main Street.
Peach. Sounded even better than apple, but it would be a while before they were in season.
For such a small town, the dirt gravel parking lot was rather full, so I had to park next to a large boulder that edged the lot. If I’d had a passenger with me, they would’ve had to land on top of it to exit my vehicle. Although I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a passenger with me.
My chest tightened. I was pretty sure it was when I took my dad to his final doctor's appointment. I sighed as I made my way across the lot. I still wasn’t used to the idea that I wouldn’t be going to visit him in Cheyenne anymore.
An impressive array of barrel cacti planted in a tidy row of snow-white rocks lined the walkway to the front door. I was still undecided about which direction to take when I reached the landscaping part of my renovations. I mentally added the diner’s arrangement to my list of desert gardens.
When I rounded the corner, reaching for the handle of one side of the glass panel doors, I spotted the sheriff’s cruiser. I paused, startled by how my heart skipped a beat. Pressing my lips together, I soldiered forward. All I needed was to add a crush to my never-ending inventory of new activities. Forming a friendship of any kind would be a big enough challenge for now.
I waited by the host station and ‘Please Wait to be Seated’ sign, hands loosely tucked in my pockets. The layout of the restaurant was reminiscent of the average diner. A row of stools at the counter was to my left, as well as a glass bakery case loaded with racks of pies, donuts, conchas, cinnamon orejas, and fruit empanadas. A central area with tables and booths lined the perimeter—the majority of them featuring windows that looked out onto the desert landscape. The décor was simple, with roadrunners and cacti being the main theme, all set against a pale teal and peachy background.
I was back to salivating over peach pie.
“Good morning, sir.”
I tore my gaze from the main dining area to meet the eyes of the smiling, middle-aged woman greeting me. I straightened, the bizarre urge to assure her that I wasn’t searching for the infuriatingly handsome Sheriff Cash Lawson flashing through my mind.
“Morning.” I smiled back.
The hostess glanced around the busy dining area before turning back to me. “Just one?”
I held in another pointless, poor, pitiful me sigh. “Yes. I’m alone.”
Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. Had it been necessary to announce my status like that?
She placed her hands on her hips, brow furrowing. “It doesn’t look like I have any tables available.” She turned back to me with another smile. “But if you don’t mind the counter, there’s one spot at the end.”
Mind? Counters and I were on a first-name basis. “That would be fine.”
She gestured past the row of already seated customers. “Menu is in the condiment holder. Enjoy your meal.”
I thanked her and made my way down the aisle. Right as I reached the lone seat, I glanced up and met the steel grey eyes of the sheriff. He dipped his chin, one side of his mouth lifting in a half-smile.
I paused my forward motion, my eyes darting to the empty seat before making a daring, split-second decision. Trying to convey the confidence I didn’t feel in the slightest, I wove through the full tables, dodging servers and trays overloaded with plates of eggs and bacon. My journey took all of ten seconds, but it could’ve been a lifetime.
“Hello, sheriff.” That’s me, a master of scintillating repartee. I hooked a thumb in my belt, balancing on one hip as if I were super chill. “Eat here often?”
The instant the ridiculous phrase left my mouth, I was fantasizing about putting my home on the market and leaving town forever. Of course, that would probably make me a murder suspect, so there was that.
Cash tilted his head a bit. “On occasion. Want to join me?” He gestured to the chair across from him. “You arrived during the morning rush, so I think I’m your best shot.”
“Sure. Thanks.” I pulled out the well-worn wooden chair and took a seat. “I came to Bobcat out of curiosity. I keep seeing the sign off the road and wondered what it was all about.”
Cash folded his hands on the table next to a mug half-filled with black coffee. “Quiet. Mostly families that go back many generations, including a lot of retirees. From what I’ve heard, it was once a mining town, so about twice the size. There was actually an incident at the abandoned mine not too long ago, so it’s been permanently sealed off.”
“Oh no. Was anyone hurt?” I understood the allure of caves and old mine shafts, but had managed not to be too reckless over the years.
“Nothing serious. Fire Chief Meyer and Dex, a local rancher, were going in after a kid. There was a cave-in, but they made it out with only a few bumps and scrapes.”
“And the kid?”
Cash set down the mug he’d been sipping from and chuckled. “The little rascal had already gotten out on his own.”
I laughed. Something about the way he referred to the kid as a rascal struck me. I couldn’t remember hearing anyone other than my dad ever use that word.
“Well, at least everything turned out all right.” I fiddled with the spoon resting on the napkin. I glanced around the dining area, bursting at the seams with patrons. “But considering how small this town is, they sure do get a lot of business.”
