The Coppersmith Farmhouse

by Devney Perry

  Giving myself a sure nod, I followed my own orders.

  At six o’clock on the dot, Maisy arrived with a huge plastic tub in her arms. She informed me it was her “babysitting kit” that she had used all through high school.

  “You look hot!” she said. “All ready for dinner?”

  “I’m not going.”

  She smirked. “Right. That’s why you’re all dressed up. Sweet necklace, by the way.”

  “Maybe I want to look cute when I tell Jess to take a hike?”

  “We’ll see how that works out for you,” she said.

  Roe came skipping into the entryway. “Hi! Are you Maisy?”

  “Yep. And you must be the beautiful Rowen I’ve heard so much about.”

  Rowen smiled as her eyes landed on the tub. “Did you bring me a present?”

  “Well . . . it’s not a present. But it’s totally full of fun stuff we can do together. As soon as your mom leaves, we’ll dig into it, okay?”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Maisy’s mouth formed a mischievous one-sided grin.

  “Mommy, can I show Maisy my room?” Rowen asked.

  “Sure, baby girl. How about we give Maisy a tour of the whole house?”

  “Yay! I’ll give the tour,” she shouted and led us around for the next twenty minutes.

  “I don’t think dinner is such a good idea,” I said from the top step of the porch.

  Jess’s foot had just landed on the bottom step.

  Maisy was keeping Rowen inside. I didn’t see any reason to introduce her to Jess since I was getting rid of him and he’d never be here again.

  Not responding to my declaration, Jess assessed my body from top to toe. As his eyes lingered on my curves, my temperature started to rise. I shifted my weight back and forth between my feet, and my fingers pulled at the hem of my shirt.

  I could feel the burn of his gaze on my legs. When he met my stare, his eyes were heated. My outfit was definitely a success.

  My belly fluttered as we stared at each other and I fought to pull my eyes away from his.

  He was still wearing his sheriff garb and was no less breathtaking. Who would have known a tan, colorless shirt could look so good?

  What would he look like without the shirt? The mental image made me shiver.

  “You’re going,” Jess finally said, breaking the heated moment. “Even if that means I have to pick you up and carry you to the truck.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed.

  “Try me.”

  My hands fisted on my hips. “I’m not going.”

  Jess jumped up the steps and came right into my space, forcing me backward. Then he bent down so his nose was centimeters from my own.

  I was expecting him to order me again or actually pick me up and carry me away. So his voice, gentle and soft, caught me off guard.

  “Georgia, give me a chance to show you that I’m not the asshole I’ve been this week. Please?”

  It was the “please” that did it. I had a feeling Jess didn’t say that word much.

  “Fine,” I whispered, taking another step back.

  I couldn’t think when he was that close to me. The intoxicating, clean, fresh scent from his skin made me woozy.

  Rushing inside, I said a quick good-bye to Rowen and a smugly smiling Maisy. Then I hurried back outside, dipping my chin so I could watch my feet as I walked to the truck. In the three minutes he’d been here, I was already fumbling to keep my cool.

  My fingers brushed the truck’s door handle but were held back when Jess gripped my elbow, gently pulling my arm away so he could open the door for me.

  When his fingers touched my skin, a current jolted through me from my elbow through my arm and down to my feet.

  He must have felt something too because he pulled in a sharp, short breath and didn’t make another move to open the door. Instead, he moved his body closer to mine until just an inch separated us. All I had to do was turn slightly and my chest would be pressed against his.

  Before I did something stupid, like wrap my arms around his neck and crush my lips to his, I murmured a quiet thank-you and stepped back. He opened the door and I hopped inside, taking a few long breaths while he jogged around the hood.

  We drove to town in silence. Usually I would have tried to make idle conversation but I had no idea what to say. My elbow was still tingling and the sexual tension between us was stifling in the confines of the truck.

  Thankfully, the drive was short and soon we were at the café.

  “I’ll have the special, please,” I said to the waitress at the café, handing her my menu.

  “Same. Side of ranch too. Thanks, Tina.” Jess didn’t have a menu. Tina hadn’t even brought one over for him.

  We were seated in a booth at the front window of the Prescott Café, looking out over Main Street, having both just ordered the chicken fajita wrap with shoestring fries.

  Booths hugged three walls of the Prescott Café while square tables filled in the middle. At the back, stools lined the counter that separated the kitchen from the restaurant floor. About three-quarters of the café was full of patrons. From my seat in the booth, I could see the cook working away in the kitchen behind the counter and the five-tiered display case of pies and cakes next to the register. My eyes had zeroed in on the chocolate cake on tier two when Jess mumbled, “Jesus.”

  “What?”

  He tipped his head toward the window. An older couple was standing right outside, staring down at us. When I faced them, they both smiled and the man winked. I wasn’t sure what to do but they seemed friendly, so I smiled back and gave them a tiny wave with my fingers.

  “You’re not helping, Georgia.”

  “What? They seem nice. Do you know them?” I asked.

  “Seth Balan and his wife. Seth’s part of the Coffee Club. You and your little wave there are gonna be the only topic at Club tomorrow morning.”

  “Ah . . . what’s the Coffee Club?”

  “Local group of old men who meet here every day for coffee. When they’re not talking about grain prices or the cattle market, they gossip worse than a bunch of teenage girls. Any time I need to know what’s going around town about something, I come to Club to get the scoop. You sitting here with me, looking like that, it’s all they’ll talk about tomorrow.”

  “So what? They’ll talk about how I ate dinner with you once? That doesn’t seem so bad,” I said.

  He sighed and leaned forward. “I don’t eat with anyone on Friday nights, Freckles. Anyone. I prefer to sit alone and been doing it that way for years. You’re new in town. You’re beautiful, especially in those jeans and shoes. And you’re in my booth. By nine-thirty tomorrow morning, everyone in town will know about you and me.”

  “Oh.” I blushed and looked at the table.

  There was a lot in that statement for me to process. Me being the hot topic at tomorrow’s old-crony gossip group. Jess eating alone every Friday night. Jess thinking I was beautiful. Him noticing my jeans and shoes.

  It was sweet and it made me feel good. So good my belly fluttered.

  Not once since he’d arrived at the farmhouse tonight had I gotten the impression he was faking anything, putting on a show or hiding ulterior motives. In fact, Jess didn’t seem the type of man who would be fake about anything. And if that was true, maybe I was reading him all wrong. Maybe his apology this morning had been sincere.

  But I wasn’t ready to stop being cautious. We hadn’t spent enough time together for me to get a good sense of his intentions or to forgive him for how he had acted toward me earlier in the week.

  My best course of action would be a subject change. “How long have you been sheriff?”

  “Going on five years.”

  “So you were pretty young when you got elected. That’s impressive. You’re, what, thirty-three, thirty-four?”

  “Thirty-four. You?”

  “Thirty-one.”

  “What’s your family think about you moving to the mid
dle of Montana?” he asked.

  “Well . . . ah . . . I don’t really have any family. My mom passed away a few years ago. My dad died when I was young.”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “It’s okay. My mom was amazing. I rarely felt like I was missing out by not having a big family.”

  “How’d she pass, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Breast cancer.”

  “Sorry,” he repeated.

  I just shrugged. Talking about my mother and her battle with cancer was not a topic I wanted to get into during dinner.

  He didn’t say anything for a few moments but then he reached out with his hand and covered mine on the table. The gesture was so kind a lump formed in my throat.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “How about we change the subject to something lighter? We don’t want the old-crony gossip group to see the first dinner companion you’ve had on a Friday night in years start sobbing at the table because she was talking about her dead mother.”

  “Old-crony gossip group?” He chuckled.

  “By far a better name than the Coffee Club.”

  That earned me a smile. A smile that I couldn’t help but return. A smile that sent a warm wave of happy through my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

  The rest of our dinner conversation was casual and easy. Never once did I get the feeling Jess was playing an angle or that he was just putting in his time until he could get me into bed. He was genuine. And being together felt comfortable. Relaxed. Natural.

  Jess told me about growing up in Prescott. He had lived here his whole life except for his time at the police academy. The previous sheriff had retired, leaving behind a team of deputies whose average tenure was twenty-five years. As most of them were looking forward to their own retirement, Sam and Jess were the only viable local candidates. Sam had no desire to go for the position so Jess had entered the election, racing against a man from Idaho.

  Another thing I was learning about Prescott: There was a clear divide between the locals and everyone else. Though the community was welcoming, outsiders were treated with a bit of apprehension. It came as no surprise that the people of Jamison County had chosen to elect the hometown high school football hero even though his out-of-state rival had possessed more experience in law enforcement.

  We both smiled and laughed a lot through dinner. Jess had a dry sense of humor and a sharp wit. We teased each other with harmless jests, and by the end of our meal, he’d almost made me forget about the jackass he’d been earlier in the week. Almost.

  Jess insisted on paying and I didn’t argue after I made an initial reach for my purse. After years of eating out with Ben, I’d learned that manly men paid. The end. And Jess, much like Ben, was a manly man.

  Stepping outside the café, Jess asked, “You been downtown yet?”

  “Not really. I’d love to wander around a bit. Do you have time?”

  He nodded and we set off to stroll up and down Main Street.

  “Are you going to make it in those shoes?” he asked after we’d been walking for five minutes.

  “Absolutely. I love my heels and they love me back. I could walk for miles.”

  His eyebrows lifted in disbelief but he didn’t comment. He just swung out a hand so I could keep walking by.

  Even though most of the shops were closed, it was nice to peer into their windows and get a better sense of what Prescott had to offer. There were a few clothing stores. Another with kitchen gadgets and fancy oils. A fly-fishing shop. An old-fashioned drugstore.

  We walked mostly in comfortable silence along the sidewalk. I liked that we didn’t need to fill every second with conversation.

  The farther we strolled, the more I had to remind myself not to reach out and hold his hand, something I wanted to do so badly that I finally tucked my hand into my pocket so it wouldn’t get a mind of its own.

  Strolling back to his truck on the opposite side of the street, we passed the door to the Claim Jumper, Prescott’s second bar. Two men pushed their way outside and bumped right into me, sending me stumbling backward into Jess’s arms. He caught me at the hips, both hands steadying me.

  “I’ve got you.” He held me until I regained my footing.

  “Shit. Sorry,” one of the men said.

  I was about to say it was okay when Jess rumbled, “Wes.”

  He didn’t sound at all happy to be seeing this Wes guy.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the sheriff,” Wes said.

  “Been trying to get ahold of you for a few weeks. Need to talk, Wes.”

  “Mom told me you left a couple messages at the house. Kinda busy right now,” Wes said, dismissing Jess and turning to me.

  “Hey there, darlin’. Wes Drummond.” He gave me a crooked smile before sliding a bit too close into my personal space.

  Wes was good-looking. Blond with light brown eyes. Not as tall or broad as Jess. Not as hot as Jess, but good-looking. I was betting most women would swoon if not currently being held up by the town sheriff.

  But Wes’s eyes were glassy and he had a menacing presence. Arrogant. Maybe even a bit dangerous. His movements were too confident and cocky.

  I hated cocky. Rowen’s father was cocky.

  “Gigi,” I said, hesitantly shaking Wes’s hand. Jess radiated tension behind me, and his fingers dug into my hips the second Wes touched my hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Gigi. You must be passing through if you’re with Brick. He always gets the pretty tourists. But since Prescott’s Good Prince here will probably be done with you after the night, you come find me. We’ll have some real fun before you leave town,” he said with a smug grin.

  At this point, Jess lost all calm and pushed me behind him to step in Wes’s face. I backed away, intimidated by Jess’s aggressive movements. At any moment, he was going to pummel Wes Drummond.

  Jess spoke to Wes in a low and menacing tone. “Off-limits, Wes.”

  Wes retreated a few steps, raising both his hands in surrender, but the smirk stayed on his face. “Take it easy, Brick. Didn’t mean to offend her. She’s a sweet piece, man. Can see why you’d stake your claim.”

  A sweet piece? Asshole.

  Jess fisted his hands twice and advanced on Wes. I braced, sure that at any moment one of Jess’s fists was going to fly up into Wes’s face.

  Thankfully, Wes’s friend grabbed one of his arms and pulled him back a foot.

  “Let’s go, Wes,” his friend said, still jerking him away.

  Wes grinned at me one last time, then raised his eyebrows to Jess before finally leaving.

  Before he was out of earshot, Jess called his name. “We’re gonna talk. Soon. Be best if you came in for that discussion. You won’t like it if I have to come find you.”

  Wes didn’t respond to Jess’s threat. Instead, he glared at him and then turned his eyes to me. “See you around, Gigi.”

  My feet were frozen in place on the sidewalk. That scene had been intense. I stayed back from Jess, hoping a little space would help him cool off. The rage still poured off his body in waves.

  After a few moments, I unlocked my feet and gently placed a hand on Jess’s back.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yep,” he clipped. “Let’s go.”

  He grabbed my hand and towed me back to his truck, pulling me at such a rapid pace I had to jog to keep up with his long strides. When we reached the truck, he hoisted me into the passenger seat and slammed my door shut.

  I stayed quiet as we headed out of town, unsure what to say. But once we started down the county roads, Jess broke the silence.

  “You see him again, you head the other direction. He’s into some bad shit. I don’t want you around him.”

  “Uh . . . okay.”

  What the hell had I just stumbled into?

  Jess sensed my unease. “Don’t stress about it. Just want you to be careful, okay? Word gets around town that we’re dating, he’ll know folks will be looking out for you and he’ll back
off. It’s not about you. He’s just trying to get to me.”

  I was more than a little nervous that someone into “bad shit” was interested in using me to piss off Jess. But on top of that, I was now freaked that Jess thought we were dating. Even though we’d had a nice dinner, I hadn’t decided if I even liked him yet.

  “Okay. I’ll avoid Wes. No problem. But one thing . . . I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell people we’re an item. It was nice of you to take me to dinner and I had a good time, but I don’t think we’ll be dating.”

  “Do you find me attractive?”

  “Uh . . .”

  “I thought so,” he said. “Already told you tonight you were beautiful. So since we’ve got some major fucking chemistry and we get along, how about we cut the bullshit and see where this goes?”

  I took a moment to collect my thoughts and formulate a response. “Physical attraction is not a great foundation for a relationship. Again, thank you for dinner. But with the exception of tonight, so far you have spent more time insulting me than treating me nicely. Surely you can understand why I don’t think we’d be a good pair. Let’s call it quits after you drop me off.”

  “I apologized and I meant it. I was an asshole this week. Now fucking get over it.”

  “Are you trying to piss me off, Sheriff?” I said. “I don’t like your tone. You don’t get to order me around and make the decision we’re dating without my agreement. That’s absurd. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “It does. And we are. Exclusively, Georgia,” he said, glancing over at me as he stressed his last point.

  “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight,” I said, the hold on my temper loosening. “Not only did you just ignore me but you also felt the need to emphasize that our nonexistent relationship is exclusive. Something that if you knew me at all, you would never have had to emphasize because, in any relationship, I have never been nor will ever be a cheater.”

  Jess pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Not saying you’re a cheater. Jesus, Georgia, relax. Just saying we’re exclusively together. Don’t want people around town thinking we’re just friends or we’re just fooling around. We’re gonna see where this goes.”