Lynne Marshall - Reunited With The Sheriff

“So you’ve got a kid.”

“I do. And regardless of how that came about, he’s a joy.” She smiled, her face softening with the mention of her son. “Hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

That certainly set things straight. The boy was first in her life...as he should be. Still, he had a million more questions on that topic that should wait for another day. “He is cute. He’s got your eyes.”

“Thanks.” Her expression spoke a thousand feelings—relief, appreciation and sweetness being the first to pop in his mind.

He might be mad as hell at her, but old habits died hard. “Let’s hope he doesn’t inherit your height, too.”

“Hey.” She knew well how to pretend offense at his chronic teasing.

Their eyes met briefly, and a reminder of what they used to have, how they used to behave around each other, stood out. He looked at his last pancake, suddenly full. But he needed to keep the conversation going, even if he was afraid of what he’d hear. “So what’s it like to work in a big New York kitchen?”

She sighed, pushing the last of her scrambled eggs around her plate. “How do I describe ordered chaos?” She put her fork down, her eyes sparking with enthusiasm. “It’s like a group dance, semi-choreographed, but with pots and pans, and noise, oh, so much noise.” She found the straw wrapper on the table and rolled and unrolled it. “Being part of a kitchen crew is always an accident waiting to happen, tempers ready to flare, insults waiting to get flung.” She glanced at him, and as she sensed his interest, her eyes latched onto his. There went another jolt straight down his chest. “And at the end, a miracle, the food gets plated like a work of art, and everyone loves each other again.” She lifted the straw wrapper to her mouth and blew to make it unfurl, then laughed lightly. “In other words, it’s crazy. Completely nuts. But I love it.”

“The meal you served me was incredible.”

She dipped her head. “Thanks.” After popping a bite of pancake into her mouth, she drank some coffee. “It’s got to be nuts being a deputy sheriff, too. Right?”

“Some days. Yeah.”

The waiter refilled their coffee cups and removed a few of the finished plates from their table.

“These days with those tragic stories around the country, it’s got to be extra hard on you.” She looked sincerely concerned.

“It’s all in the training, I think. We’re into community policing around here, and for a small town like Sandpiper, that works.”

“Didn’t you work in San Diego for a while?”

“Yeah, right out of college, I got in their peace officer training program.”

“I bet you’ve seen it all.” Did she look awestruck?

“I’ve been in some tough situations, that’s for sure.”

“Wow. I think you must have the hardest job in the world.”

“Hardly, but it keeps me on my toes.” For an instant, he let himself feel all that . Why not, she was laying on the compliments like extra mayo on a club sandwich. He puffed up his chest just a tiny bit. Pride went darn well with pancakes. It also came before the fall. “Do you remember how we met?”

Her eyes popped open like she’d just been asked the million-dollar question on a game show, or a security question for a forgotten password. “Grade school?”

“Fourth grade, when you were a pipsqueak.” It was his turn to play with the straw wrapper. “And you know why I liked you right off?”

“I thought you couldn’t stand me.”

“That’s because you were the only girl who could beat me at tetherball.” Suddenly thirsty, he drank from his ice water. “You had the heart of a lion. That’s what I noticed.”

From her expression, he knew he’d impressed her, but the big question was why did he want to? Maybe it was carb overload madness from all the pancakes and syrup. Nevertheless, he went on. “You bothered the heck out of me, but you fascinated me, too.”

“Then why’d you treat me so mean?” she said with an incredulous stare.

Something about her brought out the tease in him. “Maybe it was your Pippi Longstocking braids.”

She covered her face, doing her best not to blush. He could still embarrass her.

Her coffee-with-cream eyes drifted to her runner’s watch, then went ultrawide. She looked at him, panicked.

“Oh, my God. Forget the shower. I need to get to the kitchen to start brunch!”

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