Lisa Carter - The Deputy's Perfect Match

In a glance, she took him in—from his creased khaki uniform trousers to the tie adorning his short-sleeved summer uniform shirt to his dark hair. And finally coming to rest upon the tan hat he carried in his hands.

Behind her black horn-rimmed glasses, her large blue eyes appeared owlish. Uncertainty flickered. “Can I help you, Officer? Is there a problem?”

He stared at her. The cork-soled wedges. The white denim capris. The fluttery candy-pink top.

This wisp of a creature was the Kiptohanock Stalker? He could probably encircle the librarian’s waist with both his hands and have room to spare.

“Is there a book I can help you find?”

Her voice was soft, as befitted a librarian, he supposed. And sort of sweet.

Charlie realized his mouth was agape. He closed it. “I don’t read.”

Guileless as a child, her sky-blue eyes widened. “Oh... I’m so sorry, but we offer a program for that. I’d be glad to help if you’re willing to put in the time.”

Unlike the Tidewater brogue Kiptohanockians spoke, she had one of those accents from anywhere and nowhere. Thanks to television, like most of America.

Then what she’d said registered with Charlie. And what he’d actually said to her first.

“I didn’t mean I don’t know how to read.” He shuffled his regulation shoes on the rug. “I meant that books are not for me.”

Pink tinted her pale features. “Of course you read. You’re a sheriff.”

In his line of work, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush. He hadn’t been sure women still did. But the rosy spots of color brought the librarian’s face to life.

She wasn’t wearing makeup. To her credit, maybe she wasn’t a vain woman. She could have done much more with her appearance than she did, matter of fact.

Thank you, Honey Duer Kole, for yet another wild-goose chase. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. And Honey was certifiable. The little blonde cleared her throat.

He shook himself. Not like him to blank out. Law enforcement officers were apt to end their careers—and their lives—if not always on the alert. Time to beat an apologetic retreat and get back to real work.

“I’m not the sheriff. I’m just a deputy.” Hat in hand, he turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Thanks anyway, ma’am. Perhaps another time.”

No mystery nor Mata Hari here.

The front door opened, but something made Charlie glance over his shoulder. In time to see the librarian’s face change. As Caroline Duer Clark crossed the threshold.

* * *

When aquatic veterinarian, Caroline Clark, sauntered into the library, Evy Shaw made herself as unobtrusive as possible behind the desk. Which was not a problem for Evy. She was used to fading into the woodwork.

Or in her case, fading into the bookshelves. She often wore her invisibility like a Romulan cloaking device.

She winced. Best to keep that bit of geekiness under wraps. Her passion for all things Star Trek didn’t exactly cause men to line up at her door.

Nine-year-old Izzie Clark bounced up from the reading rug. “Mom, you’ll love the books I got this week for us to read together.”

Caroline’s eyes softened at the sight of her stepdaughter. Evy had arrived in town a few weeks before Caroline returned to her estranged family. Caroline and Weston Clark’s romance first began in the library. And through a series of events involving sea creatures, Caroline, Weston and Izzie found their happily-ever-after with each other in a restored lighthouse.

Evy bit back a sigh. Minus the fairy-tale ending, she and Caroline had far more in common than the oldest Duer sister imagined.

There was a brief flurry of activity as parents started arriving. The children in the oceanside fishing community brought much-needed excitement not only to the library but also to Evy’s life. She loved children. And story hour was the highlight of her week.

“Goodbye, Miss Shaw.” Izzie waved. “See you next week.” The solid oak door shut with a decisive click.

Someone cleared a throat. Evy nearly launched into outer space and grabbed hold of the counter. Who—

A pair of piercing hazel eyes studied her. The dark-haired, broad-shouldered young deputy. She’d forgotten him while dealing with the Duer sister. This unaccustomed subterfuge was playing havoc with her nerves.

She put a shaky hand to her throat. With his height and build, the deputy was a former high school or college football player. Probably both. He’d be intimidating to someone on the wrong side of the law.

Or someone with something to hide. Like her. On a quest to find her long-lost brother.

When he’d placed the Smokey Bear hat on his head earlier, he’d been on his way out the door. Until Caroline Clark arrived. The hat—Evy craned her neck—added another five inches to his already imposing stature.

“Can I help you, Deputy?”

He removed the hat. The muscles underneath his fitted uniform shirt flexed. Her attention skittered. Did he wear a Kevlar vest? How dangerous was the life of a deputy sheriff in peaceful Kiptohanock?

Mind your own business, Evy.

The deputy positioned the hat next to a stack of books on her desk. “I need a library card.”

“I thought you didn’t...”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, you don’t seem the type to...”

He folded his arms across his chest. Which, for her, was eye level. His gold badge gleamed in the light of the green banker’s lamp atop her desk. Deputy Sheriff, Accomack County, it read.

“Is getting a library card going to be a problem, Miss... Miss...?”

“Shaw. Evangeline Shaw.” Was it suddenly hot in here or just her? “Getting a card will not be a problem, Deputy.”

“It’s Deputy Pruitt.” Hand extended, he reached across the counter. “Charles Everett Pruitt the Third.”

Her eyes flitted to his hand.

The deputy’s gaze caught hers and held steady. “I find it amazing that in as small a place as Kiptohanock, our paths haven’t crossed until now.”

She took his hand. His hand engulfed hers. Her heart stutter-stepped at the touch of his strong, warm fingers against her skin.

“Pleased to meet you,” she whispered.

Why was she whispering? Goose bumps tingled up and down her arm.

His lantern jaw tightened. Frowning, he extracted his hand from hers.

She angled toward the monitor and hit a button on the keyboard. “There are a few questions for you to answer on the application.”

“Fire away.” He crossed his arms again, tucking his hands out of sight beneath impressive biceps. “I meant that in a figurative sense, mind you.” His lips twitched.

She’d always liked men with a sense of—

Evy jerked her eyes to the screen. “Name? Oh.” She swallowed. “You told me already.”

She concentrated on typing the information. “Pruitt... Charles—”

“Friends call me Charlie.”

She stopped midkeystroke. Was that an invitation to be his friend, or was the deputy just being chatty? He didn’t strike Evy as the chatty sort.

“Address?” She was whispering again...

He rattled off an address belonging to one of the Victorian homes on a side street close to the town square.

The deputy unfolded his arms and planted his elbows on the wooden counter. “And how about you?”

Evy’s mouth went dry. The corded muscles of his forearms gave her pause.

He leaned toward Evy. “Where do you live, Miss Shaw? Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

With his chiseled countenance, Mr. Law Enforcement bore a striking resemblance to Clark Kent aka Superman. He’d probably be very handsome if he ever relaxed his rigid features. With effort, she wrenched her gaze to the computer.

She poised her fingers over the keyboard. “I’m boarding with Pauline Crockett off Seaside Road. Near—”