Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel

  “You heard me, young man. You, too, Paige. Plenty of time for socializing once you’ve finished.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Paige stepped back. “Um, so, you want to keep raking or should—”

  “Paige—”

  “Don’t.” Paige shook her head. “You made a little girl over-the-moon happy, and for that I thank you. But that’s all that was.” Even as she said the words, she wanted things to be different. “Gratitude.”

  In that moment she realized the mistakes she’d made in New York hadn’t only destroyed the life she’d struggled to build for herself and put her child at risk. She’d managed to destroy any future she might have had with a man like Fletch.

  Any future with Fletch himself.

  “Let’s get this finished, okay?” She held up her hand and stopped the question she suspected lay poised behind his lips. Lips she’d only just kissed. Lips that carried a hint of happiness mingled with disappointment. But she couldn’t think about that.

  And she wouldn’t. Think about it. Ever again.

  * * *

  “WE MAKE A pretty good team.” Fletch pushed open the front gate and waited for Paige to wheel her bike out of Mrs. Hastings’s front yard. The good kind of exhaustion began to creep over him, but along with that came a good dose of exhilaration, no doubt caused by that surprising and—most welcome—kiss. “Have to admit I didn’t think we could get it all cleared out in one evening.”

  “Determination breeds success?” She hiked her leg over the seat. “You heading back to the station?”

  Fletch rolled his shoulders to stave off sore muscles. “Going to go home first to shower and change.” He hesitated. “I thought I’d drop in and see Willa and Nina in a bit. Maybe you’d like to come along? Make sure I don’t browbeat them or anything.”

  Her lips twitched. “I never said you were browbeating anyone.”

  “That’s not the way I heard it. Look, Paige.” He moved in front of her to stop her from pedaling off. “When it comes down to it, we both want the same thing. We want to stop whoever is behind these break-ins before someone gets hurt.”

  “Someone’s already hurt,” Paige argued. “Jasper.”

  “Yeah, well, we won’t know that for sure until we actually find him.” They could agree to disagree on the level of the boy’s involvement. For him, an easy solution meant his meeting with the mayor in the morning would go more smoothly. He wanted Luke—and the sheriff’s office—out of the political line of fire. “Doesn’t it make sense for us to work together?”

  “Yes.” She glanced around as if she was afraid of being seen with him. “Yeah, I guess it does. As long as you agree to hear him out before you go arresting him.”

  Fletch sighed. “You know nothing is black-and-white, right? Did it ever occur to you there’s more going on with this situation than one person’s involvement?”

  Paige’s eyes went wide and her brows knitted. “Should it have? All you’ve talked about since this whole thing started was catching up to Jasper and closing the case. What else could there be?”

  All this time he’d been pushing Paige to trust him, to confide in him. How could he do that without having offered to do the same? He was right on one account: Paige had become one of the town’s warrior women, ready to fight for a cause, or anyone she decided needed her help. Why shouldn’t he throw his hat in the ring? “What if I told you the longer this case drags on the bigger the chance Luke will lose his job?”

  Paige blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the mayor looking for someone to blame when these vandalisms continue. The only reason Gil hired Luke in the first place was to appease people like Jake Campbell, people whose support he needs if he’s going to remain mayor.”

  “Holly’s father was pushed out of the sheriff’s job,” Paige said. “That’s how Luke…” She stopped, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “You’re telling me this whole thing with Jasper is some political juggernaut Gil Hamilton is trying to manipulate?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to twist things to his benefit. I saw him talking to Sheriff Brodie from over in Durante at the wedding. It’s not a secret he’d have preferred to bring in his former best friend from high school to help him run this place. Luke doesn’t exactly bend to Gil’s will.”

  “Luke doesn’t bend to anyone’s will other than Holly’s.” Paige smirked. “So you did lie. This isn’t about going after Jasper necessarily. This is about you trying to protect your friend.”

  Fletch felt his cheeks warm. Well, if she was going to put it like that… “I don’t like anyone getting a raw deal,” he said instead. “And maybe I was wrong to try to handle this myself, or keep it among the deputies. You’re smart and cagey, in a good way,” he added when her frown deepened. “And I’m betting you don’t like the idea of Luke being forced out of a job he’s really good at.”

  “I don’t like anyone I know getting a raw deal either. Not to mention Luke isn’t the type to want to cause any trouble that could backfire on the entire community. He’d throw himself on the sacrificial pyre if it meant it was best for the town.”

  That she understood Luke so well told him his faith had not been misplaced. “So what do you say? Can we stop working against each other and see what we can accomplish together?” And maybe…just maybe he’d finally slip around those defenses she had boarded up tighter than a military installation.

  “You mean should we join forces to defeat the evil mayor? Oh, you bet your sweet—” She broke off, her frown disappearing behind a glint of determination. “I mean, yes, absolutely. Beginning with seeing if there’s anything Nina and Willa neglected to tell us.”

  Fletch let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I was going to grab some dinner first. How about I pick you up in about an hour?”

  “For dinner?” Did she have to look as if he’d just offered her a plate of salmonella?

  “You did plan to eat, didn’t you?” She’d opened the door. He wasn’t about to not nudge it a bit further when he had the opportunity.

  “Um.” She cringed, ducked her chin. “Yeah, of course.” She seemed to shake herself out of whatever internal conversation she was having with herself. “Dinner sounds good. Can we make it someplace other than the diner, though?”

  “How about Zane’s? I can call ahead, cut down on some time. What do you like on your pizza?”

  “Anything other than pineapple.” She shuddered. “See you in about an hour?”

  “Perfect.” Fletch tapped his hand on the handlebar of her bike and headed for his car. “Oh, hey, is Charlie—”

  “She’s having dinner at Abby’s. I’m picking her up around eight.”

  “Don’t worry, Cinderella, I’ll have you back in plenty of time to get your pumpkin.” Feeling lighter than he had in days, Fletch hopped into his car before she could change her mind. And she was thinking about it; he could tell.

  Progress, he told himself, however slow, was still progress. He drove away and kept his eye on the rearview mirror as Paige began her ride to her apartment. Fletch grinned. Mrs. Hastings’s matchmaking intentions hadn’t been lost on him. He knew his former principal still had enough of her faculties to remember he’d heard Paige offer to come and weed her yard.

  He appreciated the unsolicited support.

  But never in his wildest dreams did he expect Paige to make the first move.

  She’d kissed him.

  Fletch found himself humming as his smile widened. All the discomfort of the allergic reaction, all the aches and pains he’d have in the morning, had paid off sooner than he could have hoped for.

  Gratitude or not, he wasn’t going to quibble. No way she didn’t feel that spark between them. Spark? He let out a whoosh of air. More like she’d set off a forest fire inside him. He
hadn’t been imagining it all these months.

  His sister had been right. He’d just needed to find the right path to take with Paige. He’d gambled on Charlie’s cake, on Mrs. Hastings’s good intentions, and won big. A pizza dinner with Paige felt like he’d just won the World Series of dates.

  And he wasn’t going to take any of what was to come for granted.

  CHAPTER TEN

  OH, BOY.

  Wrapped in a bath towel, skin clammy from the hot after-yard-work shower, Paige leaned against the bathroom counter and stared blankly into the fogged mirror.

  She’d accepted a date with Fletcher Bradley.

  She took a deep breath and leaned over, her insides twisted in knots. It was dinner. That was all. And yes, maybe she could have—should have—said no. Except she hadn’t wanted to. She liked spending time with him even if doing so kept her on the edge of panic. He’d extended an olive branch by telling her the truth about Luke’s situation; how could she fight for Jasper O’Neill and not her best friend’s husband? Besides, going with Fletch to speak to Nina and Willa just made sense. All she had to do was take things a minute at a time, a word at a time and do whatever she could not to raise any suspicions about herself. Easy, right?

  She straightened, gave herself a good mental shake and exhaled.

  Yeah. It might have been if she hadn’t been dumb enough to kiss the deputy. All her life she’d made the mistake of jumping first and worrying later, except this leap might just have thrown her off one of those cliffs near the Flutterby Inn.

  And Paige wasn’t the strongest of swimmers.

  What she wouldn’t give to not have the memory of his touch emblazoned in her mind; to not feel the sweet memory of his fingers brushing over the curve of her hips or the unending longing that her life was different enough that she could explore further what that kiss could lead to.

  “Yeah, dwelling on that’s definitely going to help.” She started to hum to herself, the only way to make the thoughts stop swarming, and pulled open the bathroom door. The cool air rushed over her, cleansing and invigorating. She retrieved clean jeans and a shirt from the closet in the short hall. She’d installed a second bar in the center for Charlie to use. The space was small, but she didn’t mind. Their apartment in New York hadn’t been much bigger, but at least here Charlie could have her own room. Paige had definitely added her own touches. The thrift and vintage stores in town had been a godsend, and she’d even managed to get a decent collection of cookware and dishes in the kitchen. Pictures of faraway places lay scattered on the walls, small vases with gerbera daisies—Paige loved daisies—brought fun pops of color throughout.

  Home. Paige hugged her clothes against her chest and smiled. At some point in the last few weeks, Butterfly Harbor—and this apartment—had come to feel like home. As she turned back to the bathroom, her gaze skittered across the oversize duffel bag beneath the table by the door.

  The familiar pang of uneasiness struck, with more force and louder than it had in a while. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she whispered to herself, willing her heart to return to its normal beat. “You’re not safe yet.”

  She’d just finished drying her hair when a knock sounded on the door. She glanced at the clock as she padded barefoot to the door, knowing whom she’d find on the other side. “You’re early, Fletch.”

  And that was as far as she got. Seeing him, lounging against her door frame, snug jeans and an even snugger navy T-shirt, a large pizza box in his hand and that pulse-kicking grin of his, erased any thought her brain might have held. Those shimmering green eyes of his…how did women breathe when those were pinned on them?

  “Given all the hours you spend at a busy diner and then in Mrs. Hastings’s yard, I thought maybe you’d like a quiet dinner in.”

  “Oh.” Her hand tightened on the doorknob. She glanced over her shoulder, wishing she was more of a slob so she could use a messy apartment as an excuse. Instead, the space seemed to glitter back at her as if mocking her attempt at avoidance. “Absolutely. Come on in.” She took a step back and tried not to notice the spicy heat of his aftershave as he walked into her home. “Kitchen’s around the corner, just there. I have some soft drinks in the fridge. I’m afraid I’m not much of a drinker so—”

  “Soda’s fine.”

  She watched him disappear before she remembered to close the door. When she joined him in the small galley kitchen, she found him rummaging in her cabinets for plates and cups.

  “Cute place.” He grinned at her and sent her belly to flopping. “I remember Holly’s grandmother using it as a storage area a while back.”

  Now who was making small talk? “Holly, Abby and Ursula were nice enough to fix it up for me and Charlie.”

  “Yes, I know.” He arched a brow in her direction. “Who do you think lugged the old stuff out and did the new paint job?”

  “You?” How did she not know that?

  “Me and Ozzy. We got a free dinner out of it from Ursula.” His voice dropped. “And I finagled a month’s worth of mocha shakes out of Holly.” He leaned back, fingers skimming the edge of the pizza box. “Turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned around, braced his hands on the edge of the counter and looked at her. “Does that mean more gratitude? Because I’m up for as much as you want to give me.”

  Her cheeks went volcano hot. She moved toward him, took an inordinate amount of pleasure in watching him watch her as she stepped closer. Her hands came up. His hands tightened on the tile.

  She ducked around him and flipped open the box. “What did you get?” The aromatic steam rose up and slapped her in the face with promises of oregano, garlic and…sausage and mushrooms. “My favorite.” She leaned over, breathed deep. “I can smell the fennel.”

  “I smell roses.” He turned and locked a hand on the counter on each side of her. He dipped his head, brushed his lips feather light against the side of her neck. “Hothouse roses and summer.”

  Paige closed her eyes and leaned back. Okay, maybe he could read minds. If she moved just a touch more, another inch, it was all it would take, she was certain, to have him wrap those amazing and protective arms around her.

  The front door slammed open. “Mom! Hey, Mom, are you home?” Charlie’s voice exploded through the apartment and Paige jumped, turned and, in one move, pushed Fletch far from arm’s distance.

  “I’m here.” She dived away from Fletch and darted into the sitting area, where her bed and makeshift sofa sat. “I thought you were having dinner at Abby’s.”

  “I am. I forgot my notebook and…” Charlie’s eyes narrowed. She leaned over, way over until her backpack slipped off her shoulders. “Fletch! You’re here!”

  Paige crossed her arms, brushed uneasy fingers against her throat as her daughter’s face brightened at the sight of the deputy.

  “Hey, Charlie.” He caught her as she leaped at him, swinging her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. “Word around the community center is you’re getting as whip smart as Simon with the computer. You going to be up for a job with the sheriff’s department soon?”

  “I already have a job with Mrs. Hastings.” Charlie played with the collar of his shirt. “I don’t think I can manage two, can I, Mom?”

  “I think your mom is the wrong person to ask about how many jobs you can handle.”

  The teasing glint in his eyes made Paige’s heart ache. He was so good with Charlie. Even when he thought he wasn’t.

  “I like keeping busy,” was all Paige said as she walked over and retrieved her daughter. “Go get your notebook. Did Abby drive you over?”

  “I rode my bike. Simon’s waiting for me downstairs.” She sniffed the air as Paige maneuvered her toward her room. “I smell pizza. Is that from Zane’s?”

 
“It is.”

  “We’re having fried chicken,” Charlie called. A few loud bangs, some tossed items and the crash of her closet door later, she emerged, notebook in hand, before she stuffed it back in her bag. “And mashed potatoes and something Jason called kale surprise. What do you think that is, Mom?”

  “I bet the surprise will be if Simon eats it,” Fletch muttered. “Hey, Charlie, it’s okay that I’m having dinner with your mom, right?”

  “That depends.” Charlie tilted her head just enough so her pigtails evened out. “Is this a date?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe.” Fletch grinned at Paige’s emphatic response. “What? It qualifies. That okay with you, Charlie?”

  “Uh-huh. Wait until I tell Simon it’s working!” She squealed and raced for the door. “Bye, Mom.”

  “I’ll see you around eight!” Paige raced after her and called, but all she got in response was a dismissive wave as her daughter disappeared down the street. “Well, that’s just great. Why did you tell her that?”

  “What? That we’re maybe on a date? Because maybe we are. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “You can’t do this to her, Fletcher. She’s already got notions of the two of us being more than friends. I don’t want her getting her hopes up.”

  Fletch rolled his eyes and returned to the kitchen, leaving Paige to follow. Again. “You sure it’s Charlie’s hopes you’re worried about? Come get your pizza before it gets cold, Paige.”

  “I don’t care if it’s cold. Fletch—”

  “You like cold pizza, too?” He flipped two healthy slices onto a plate and handed it over. “See? We have something in common after all.”

  “Fletch—”

  “If you keep saying my name like that I’m going to kiss you.”

  Paige opened her mouth, reconsidered and closed it again. She glared at him.

  “Huh. Kissing as a threat. Noted for future reference.” When she didn’t laugh at the joke, he sighed, and after retrieving two cans of orange soda from the refrigerator, he carried them and his plate to the table by the window. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt Charlie, Paige. Not intentionally anyway.”