Anyone that stumbles on the quaint coastal town of Shelter Bay might call it sleepy. They may even mistake it for a place where nothing much happens.
Perhaps that's because it's a tight-knit community full of happy families and local businesses go...
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I focused on bussing tables and restocking the bar after my second failed attempt at a friendly conversation with Sergeant Taylor. It was clear the guy didn't want me to try and smooth things over (or even talk to him).
Which was for the best, really. My rules for laying low didn't involve meeting, or royally ticking off local law enforcement!
"Hey," Monica's soft voice got my attention where I'd been stacking clean pint glasses behind the bar. "It's Friday. Are you up for a girl's night out? My dad's gonna take Collin backyard camping with some of his cousins on the Reservation, so I'm kid-free."
I considered her offer while trying to keep my attention off the booths by the pool tables (and failing miserably).
"C'mon," Monica lowered her voice the closer she got. "I promise we don't have to come here."
"OK, I'm in," I agreed with a nervous laugh. "But where else do people go out in Shelter Bay?"
"Nowhere," Monica winked as she got started on a tray full of drinks.
At The Brick, Maggie ran the kitchen while Bob tended the bar, but he didn't bother with dining room drinks.
He was too busy to overhear us badmouthing the local nightlife, anyway. As was custom, Bob was holding court with a bunch of regulars at the other end of the shiny wood saloon and waxing poetic about 'the good old days.'
"Cooper's outside of La Conner has line-dancing," she bounced her eyebrows playfully. "Josh and I used to go there before Collin was born. It's pretty fun."
"Sounds great," I tried to sound like I meant it.
I really enjoyed hanging out with Monica, and I adored spending time with Collin, but I sucked as a wing woman. It's been so long since I've done anything resembling socializing (or flirting) that mostly avoided it altogether. In fact, I preferred it that way.
"Could you take these drinks to table nine?" Monica handed me two freshly filled glasses and smiled innocently.
I'd already finished up my work and accepted the refreshments before I realized where she was sending me.
"Please don't make me go back there," I begged quietly as I accidentally glanced in Sergeant Taylor's direction (again).
Our eyes caught from across the room-just like in my sexy dream-to strike me like lightning.
Unlike my embarrassingly erotic fantasy, however, I looked away.
"Who? The Chief and Noah?" Monica shrugged and shifted her thick fishtail braid. "They're pretty harmless. For white guys."
Her flippant remark made me snort unattractively, but I didn't budge.
My cheeks were still blazing hot from getting caught peeking at Sergeant Taylor. For whatever reason, Noah's intense gaze lingered on my skin, tingling below the surface like it was sinking into my cells.
