by Liz Isaacson
“So how much to hire your muscles for an hour?” She gripped her keys until the jagged edges dug into her skin.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“How am I going to get all these boxes into my office?” She’d carried out two and then let Cole use his strength to get the job done.
He leaned against his cruiser, and he looked so darn good doing it, Berlin’s heart started hammering out of control. “I’ll follow you over.”
“Do you know where my office is?”
“No idea.”
“We’re right behind the movie theater.” She opened the driver’s side door. “Just a couple of blocks down.”
“All right then.” He got in his car, and Berlin led the way to the nondescript office building.
When he pulled up beside her and got out, he said, “I live right there.” He pointed to the house across the street and kitty-corner to the office building. It was in a row of houses that all looked similar with tan stucco and white trim. A huge, hulking black SUV sat in the driveway. As if the scruff wasn’t manly enough. Or the shoulders as wide as the Mississippi. Or the twinkling gray eyes. And the police badge.
Berlin wasn’t sure how she was supposed to work twelve hours a day this summer when she knew Cole was a two-minute walk away. Even the police station wasn’t that far from her office.
“Nice house,” she said, wondering if the SUV was his. Maybe he had a roommate. A brother living with him. Something.
“Thanks.”
“You do the yard work and everything yourself?”
“No, I hire it out.”
Of course he did. Berlin wasn’t sure of all of Cole’s responsibilities, but they were surely numerous and never finished. “Who do you use?”
“A Jack of All Trades.”
Berlin ducked her head. He had no idea who she really was. “That’s my family’s company.”
He swung his attention toward her. “It is?”
“Yeah. Is it Milt or Pat that comes?”
“Milt.”
Berlin popped the trunk and indicated the boxes. “My dad’s retiring soon, so Milt will be taking over. I’m glad you like our services.”
Cole joined her at the trunk. “Oh, I like them.” But he wasn’t looking at the yard anymore.
Berlin half snorted and half scoffed before she nudged him with her elbow. “Let’s get these inside. I have about twenty hours of work to do today and only ten to do it in.”
“So should I pick you up here?” He lifted two boxes into his arms effortlessly, and Berlin simply watched as his muscles rippled.
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “I’ll go home and slip into something a little more date-like.”
“I liked the jeans on Sunday,” he said.
“Something casual, then?” she asked, following him to the building and holding open the door for him. “For a Friday night date?”
“I don’t care what you wear,” he said, pausing to gaze down into her face. “Just don’t cover up that pretty face with too much makeup.”
A shock moved through Berlin, but part of her really liked that Cole said what he thought. Maybe he was a little too blunt sometimes. Maybe he couldn’t hide how he was feeling when he should’ve. Maybe he was a bit on the ornery side. But he was cute, and Berlin couldn’t deny the supreme attraction she felt for him.
Besides, he’s just said that she had a pretty face. Oh, Cole Fairbanks had a soft side, she decided as he unloaded the twenty-one boxes of financial documents. She just needed to get him to invite her to see it.
Berlin didn’t feel like jeans were appropriate for a Friday night date. Especially at Teddy’s, which was a happening place even in the middle of the week. Friday night, the restaurant would be slammed, and she texted Cole in a panic about the wait time.
I’ll get a reservation, he sent back. Berlin wanted to argue that they didn’t take reservations and maybe they should go somewhere else. But when he’d said he wanted to go somewhere with great food and a lively atmosphere, the only place Berlin could settle on was Teddy’s. Sure, there were great places right in Brush Creek, but she was hoping Cole’s physical skills extended to dancing.
Berlin loved dancing to live music, and six o’clock came both faster and slower than she liked. This time, when Cole knocked on the door, it didn’t sound like he was trying to knock it into the next county.
When she opened the door, he stood back a few feet, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets. The man made denim look amazing, and tonight, he wore a purple and blue checkered shirt that was slightly too tight in the biceps.
And that black cowboy hat was so sinful Berlin felt like she’d need to visit the pastor later to make sure she was still on good ground with the Lord.
She leaned in the doorway and smiled. “All you need is a belt buckle and you’d be a real cowboy.”
He chuckled, the sound drawing her dogs out onto the porch, where he bent down and scratched them like he had last time. At least he got along with them, because Berlin and her pups came as a package deal.
“Who takes care of your dogs all day?” she asked.
“Oh, they’re at the station half of the time.” He straightened and reached his hand toward her as if he wanted to hold hands with her. She looked at his fingers and as if her hand had a mind of its own, she locked her grip with his.
Everything inside her tripped, and her heart stalled for one long, delicious beat while he squeezed her fingers. “See? Already better than last time.”
She laughed, because that was all she could do. “That was a pretty horrible date, wasn’t it?”
He shrugged and shooed the dogs back inside before drawing her front door closed. “I’ve had worse, if you can believe it.”
“No.” Berlin shook her head and wrapped her other hand around hers and Cole’s. “I don’t believe that.”
“Well, it’s true.” He drew her toward the passenger side of his police vehicle. “I’m not…I don’t date a lot.”
“You don’t say.” Berlin gazed up at him, feeling like someone had dumped sparkles in her blood. “Why is that, by the way?”
His gaze softened the teensiest bit as he reached behind her to open the door. “It took a lot of long hours, and special courses, and tactical training to get this job.”
Berlin ducked into the car, wondering why he took his city vehicle when he had that SUV. He got behind the wheel as she realized the interior smelled like oranges today when it hadn’t on Sunday.
“Have you always wanted to be a cop?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“The Chief.”
“Yes.” He didn’t bark the answers today like he had last time, but he didn’t ask her any questions.
“How old are you?” she asked as he pulled onto the highway that led north to Maple Mountain.
“Oh, so you can ask me, but I can’t ask you?”
“It’s rude to ask a woman her age,” Berlin said, adding a light laugh—decidedly not a giggle—to her statement. Caitlyn had told her she’d heard through the grapevine that the Chief did not like giggling women. Berlin didn’t like them much herself, but there was something about Cole that made her giddy—and giggly.
“If I tell you, will you tell me?”
“Sure.”
His jaw twitched once. “I’m thirty-seven.”
Only ten years older than her. No one could understand the relief that cascaded through her. Gray had been fifteen years older, and everyone had had a problem with it.
“Ever been married?” she asked.
“No.”
“And you already said you don’t date much.”
“I’ve moved a lot too,” he said. “So that was another reason I didn’t get serious with anyone.”
“But you’re in Brush Creek to stay, right?” Berlin didn’t need to start something with him if he’d only be here for a few months.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“That’s not a yes or a no.”
He looked at her, abandoning his careful study of the road in front of him though he kept his hands at ten and two on the wheel. “I’m in town to stay,” he said. “As long as they’ll have me.”
“Oh, they’ll keep you forever.”
He focused back on the highway. “How can you be so sure?”
“Well, Chief Rasband was Chief for something like twenty years. Maybe twenty-five.”
“Huh.” He slowed as a massive amount of cars came into view. “Is this it?”
Berlin couldn’t believe they’d arrived already. Cole was right. This date was so much better than their last. “This is it. The parking lot is tiny, so anywhere along the road is fine.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, because he kept on driving. He pulled into the lot, and Berlin bit her tongue. He’d do what he wanted, no matter what she said.
Miraculously, as if someone had saved him a parking spot, there was an open space that he swung the car into. He turned and grinned at her. “You never said how old you were.”
“Twenty-seven,” she said. “My birthday is in October.”
His smile widened and he said, “That’s not too big of a gap, is it? I mean, a lot of people are a decade apart in age.”
Berlin swallowed and licked her lips, wishing she could give up the nervous habit. Not only did her lipstick taste like dry cardboard, but she didn’t like broadcasting her anxiety. “First, never say the word decade to describe it. Ten years seems much smaller. Second, I’ve…dated men older than you. When I was younger.”
His eyebrows shot sky high. “Is that so?”
Berlin lifted one shoulder in a shrug meant to say It’s no big deal. But her family had thought so. Caitlyn, Scotty, everyone at church. They all seemed to have an opinion about it, and though Berlin had liked Gray, their age difference was something neither of them could get past. That, and his teenage daughter.
“So ten years—nine really—is okay with me.”
“Great,” he said. “It’s okay with me too.” He got out of the car and came around to open her door.
“Who was the guy you dated that was much older than you?”
Berlin cleared her throat. This was normal conversation. He naturally would be curious about her past relationships. She reminded herself that this was what people did when they dated. They talked about themselves. Got to know one another. Made compromises.
“Um, it was Gray. Gray Salisbury? He’s a detective with the Unified Police. They work with our PD all the time.”
Cole stared at her for a moment past comfortable and then he sent his booming laughter into the summer sky. He was still chuckling when he said, “Wow. You and Gray.”
“He’s a great guy.”
“Of course, yeah, sure.” Cole took her hand in his and walked toward the front of the building. “He has a kid, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, you’re no good at asking questions you already know the answer to.” She bumped him with her hip.
“How far apart are you in age?”
“A decade.”
He paused before opening the door. “Wow, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like long at all.”
“Ha ha.” Berlin rolled her eyes and nodded toward the door. “Have you been here before?”
“Nope.”
“It can be loud. Better brace yourself.”
He opened the door and sure enough, a wall of sound spilled out. The band had already started, and the entire lobby teemed with people, most of them couples, waiting for tables. Cole stepped right up to the hostess podium and leaned against it like he owned the place. Berlin hadn’t noticed his cowboy boots when he’d picked her up, but she saw them now. Oh, how she hoped he could dance.
She recognized the band playing as Wild West Hearts, and they played a variety of ballads and quick pieces meant for line dances. A cheer went up from the stage area, and people flocked to the cleared area to dance.
Berlin watched them with eagerness, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Cole’s hand slipped back into hers, startling her.
“All set?” He tugged on her.
“We’re ready already?”
“I told you I’d get a reservation.” He didn’t seem to notice the way everyone nearby gawked at them, so Berlin pressed her lips together and went with him. Once they were seated in a booth, with menus, and the overly bubbly hostess gone, Berlin leaned forward.
“I know they don’t take reservations here, Cole.”
He flicked her a glance over the top of the menu. “I pulled a few strings.”
“What kind of strings?”
“Why does it matter?”
Berlin exhaled and glanced at the couples dancing to a romantic song that featured the fiddle and an accordion. “I guess it doesn’t.”
“Just like it doesn’t matter that you go to church and I don’t, or that you don’t eat meat and I think a meal without meat isn’t really a meal.”
Berlin’s mind whined with all he’d said at once. Sudden realization hit her, and she physically fell back against the upholstered booth. “That was why you were in bad mood on Sunday.”
He sighed and put his menu down, apparently giving up on searching it while they were talking. “Why’s that?”
“You tell me.”
A waitress approached before he could say a word, and they put in their drink orders and asked for a few more minutes with the menu.
“All right,” he said, covering the menu with his forearms and leaning into them. “Yes, I was a little put off by the…differences between us. It seemed like we didn’t have anything in common.”
“That’s not a terrible thing,” Berlin said.
“I realize that.” He picked up the menu. “Now.” He deliberately blew his breath out, a signal that this conversation was over. “What’s good here? I assume you’ve been here a lot.”
She had, yes. She relaxed as she quizzed him if he liked bleu cheese or Swiss, a rare steak or a medium burger, regular French fries or the sweet potato kind.
“See?” she said. “Another thing we share. Our love of sweet potato fries.” She gave him a smile, glad when he returned it.
“Remember how I said I wasn’t great at this?” He handed the menu to the waitress but kept his eyes on Berlin’s. “Maybe I get a few do-overs?”
“Maybe.” Berlin turned her attention to the waitress and put in her order—the pulled pork sandwich with the spicy barbecue sauce. Cole ordered a rib eye, medium-rare, and a double order of the sweet potato fries.
“You know what would make this date amazing?” Berlin took a small sip of her soda.
Cole folded his arms and gave her an inquisitive look. “What?”
“Dancing.”
Chapter Six
Cole could barely eat, what with the promise of dancing after they finished. He wasn’t sure why he’d promised Berlin anything of the sort. But she’d looked so hopeful and happy, and he didn’t want this date ending the way the last one had.
“So you work for your family,” he said. “Tell me more about that.”
Berlin lit up, her love for her family obvious. “I’m the accountant for the company. I took most of my classes online, and then I finished up the last two years on-campus in Colorado.”
“How long have you been back in town?”
“Oh, about a year.” She took a bite of her sandwich and while she chewed, her fingers snuck across the middle of the table and took a few of his fries.
Something sparked in him. It felt like it was their twentieth date, not their second. And certainly not their second after a disastrous first. Sharing food. Teasing. Talking about life. Cole hadn’t known dating could be like this.
“I have eight brothers and sisters,” she said. “I’m the youngest.”
“Eight, wow.”
“Surely you’ve heard of the Fullers.”
He shook his head. “Should I have? You guys big lawbreakers or something?”
“Well, my brother-in-law is one of your men.�
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“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Tate Benson. He’s married to my oldest sister.” Berlin watched him, almost like she didn’t believe he didn’t know everything about everyone in her family. She had no idea how much he worked, and Cole would need to tell her at some point. He’d taken the job in Brush Creek, because he adored small western towns. He loved hiking, fishing, and camping, and he’d though those hobbies would be a perfect way to unwind after a busy day at the station.
But he mostly just collapsed on the couch with his dogs on the floor to unwind. If he even made it home. At least he’d cleaned up the evidence of his sleeping in his office before Berlin had come that morning.
“I like Tate,” he said. The man had certainly never given him any trouble. “Good cop.”
“She runs the office. You probably spoke to her to arrange your lawn care.”
“Probably.” Cole could remember tiny details, sometimes things he’d seen in a photo or a crime scene once. He was great with names too. But who he spoke with to arrange his yard work two years ago wasn’t in his repertoire.
Berlin sighed and looked down at her food. Cole regretted his snappy response and decided to do something he hadn’t done before. “So I grew up in Dallas. My parents still live there.”
He talked about himself for the rest of the meal, giving her little things about where his brothers were and what they did for a living.
“Wait. So none of you are married?” Berlin seemed shocked by such a thing.
“That’s right.”
“All of my brothers and sisters are married.” Her voice carried a wistful quality that even the loud music couldn’t cover up. He had no idea what to say to bring back the fun, flirty Berlin that called to his soul.
So he threw down his napkin and asked, “Wanna dance?”
Her gaze flew to his. “Really?”
“I can’t promise I won’t stomp your feet to smithereens,” he said, scooting to the edge of the seat and standing. “But I think you suggested this place hoping for dancing, and that’s what you’re gonna get.”
Berlin laughed as she slipped her hand into his and practically danced her way onto the floor. He chuckled too, but he had no idea where to put his hands or how to move to the beat. Thankfully, Berlin seemed to be a natural, and she guided his palms to her waist, and gave directions for which way he should go and when he should twirl her.
