by VK Powell
“Sure.” Grace eased into the room, and Harry launched toward her head. She ducked and back-stepped behind the door again. “Can you figure out why he hates me?”
Dani shrugged. “I deal with physical conditions, not mental ones, but he is seriously hating on you.”
“If you can’t help, I’ll probably have to get rid of him. It wouldn’t be healthy for us to cohabitate the way things are.”
“Maybe we’ll figure it out.” We’ll figure it out? What the hell was the matter with her? Choosing the right words was everything. Women like Grace—small town, big plans—were far too prone to hear a promise where none was intended. “I mean I’ll do my best.” After all, she was a professional and prided herself on being a problem solver. Her ego demanded that she try.
“Thanks.” Grace started toward the front door. “By the way, are you going to Trip’s cookout on Saturday?”
“Doubt it. I don’t know anybody.”
Grace’s broad smile transformed her face, and her cheeks colored. “Well, Dr. Wingate, you’ll meet plenty of folks there. That’s the idea of a get-together, along with keeping in touch with folks you already know. The entire local sisterhood will be there, and it’s a larger community than you’d think for a town our size. Will you come?”
Dani swallowed hard, her throat dry from the unwanted attraction. “Probably not.” The last thing she needed to do was encourage Grace. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
Grace reached to touch her arm, but Dani stepped back. “I really hope to see you there. In the meantime, guess our paths will cross at the B and B. Gotta run. Meeting some friends at the river.” And after providing more information than necessary, Grace left.
Dani enjoyed watching Grace’s movements from the clinic door to her car—the swing of her round hips, which Dani chose to believe was for her benefit; the casual flip of hair off her collar, another flirtatious habit; and a friendly wave to a passerby. She’d never seen a woman in such an unattractive, drab uniform look so sexy and feminine. And she was an absolute sucker for femmes.
Chapter Five
Grace rested her pounding head in her hand. Why had she drunk so much wine at the river with Clay and Trip last night? She took another bite of a ham biscuit and prayed it would absorb the bitter taste in her mouth. She chased the food with coffee and forced a smile as River Hemsworth came into the dining room and eyed the pastry platter. Despite her head, her duty as a representative of the B and B forced her to sound cheerful and welcoming. “You should try one. MJ’s cinnamon rolls are not to be missed.”
“If they taste half as good as they smell, I’m in serious trouble.” River placed one of the generously sized buns, oozing icing on all sides, onto a small china plate and turned, scanning the room.
“Please join me.” Grace motioned toward the empty chair across from her. “Unless you’re less of a morning person than I am and prefer to be alone.”
“Not at all. Thank you for the invitation.” She glanced at Grace’s uniform and quickly back down at her plate.
“Don’t let the uniform scare you off. I’m really quite docile.”
“You were very helpful and not at all scary yesterday.” River’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “It’s just…you’re so…I better shut up before I sound prejudiced and uncivilized.”
“It’s okay. I’ve heard the gamut. ‘You’re too cute, too sexy, too feminine, too nice, blah blah blah to be a police officer.’ No offense taken.”
“I imagine you have.” River sipped her coffee and hummed with approval.
“How is your head this morning?”
“Excuse me?”
“Where you bumped it on the steering wheel.”
“Oh. Fine. MJ was kind enough to give me an ice pack yesterday. That really helped.”
“Good.” Grace studied her. “It doesn’t even show.”
River smiled and forked a small bite of the pastry into her mouth and groaned. “Hmm, you weren’t kidding. These are deadly. So yummy.”
“Hmm, yes. Yummy indeed.” Grace could barely whisper the words. The view over River’s shoulder had sucked the breath from her lungs. Dani stood by the serving table pouring coffee into a paper cup. She was totally wearing the hell out of those jeans, and the plaid shirt made Grace drool. Dani glanced in her direction shyly and then left.
River turned to follow Grace’s gaze. “I was talking about the pastry, not tall, dark, and handsome over by the coffee pot.”
Grace laughed. “You saw that, huh?”
“Was that your attempt at subtlety?” River smiled and took another bite of the pastry.
“Maybe I need more practice.” Grace sighed.
“Do you know her?”
“I wouldn’t say I know her.” Grace leaned forward, holding her coffee cup between both hands, and spinning it on the saucer. “But I’d like to. That’s Dani Wingate. She’s the new veterinarian at Trip’s clinic.”
“Well, she’s super cute.” River’s eyes glazed over for a second, and Grace tried to decide if it was from the sugary pastry, how cute Dani was, or if she was thinking about something else. “This is the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had.”
“I warned you.” Grace laughed.
“Does MJ make these every morning?”
“Thankfully, no. If she did, I’d be as big as this table.”
“Do you…do you live at the B and B?” River seemed almost shy about asking Grace anything personal. “I don’t mean to pry. I blame it on the sugar rush.”
“If you don’t ask personal questions around here, you’ll be tagged as an outsider for sure. You can ask me anything. Everybody’s life is an open book in this town. I own the B and B, but I live in the cottage out back.” Grace motioned with her thumb over her shoulder. “I took over the place from my parents.”
“Wow, you’re a police officer and you run a B and B? When do you sleep?”
“I probably wouldn’t if it weren’t for MJ. She keeps everything going smoothly, and I get to eat breakfast and dinner here every day. That sounds like I get all the benefits. Don’t tell her I said that, or we’ll be renegotiating terms.”
“Well, it’s a beautiful place. Very charming and inviting.”
“I hope you don’t feel pressured to say that because I’m armed.”
River laughed. “Not at all. Wait. Dani is staying here? At your B and B? My brain is finally waking up.”
“Yes,” Grace said cautiously, not sure where River was headed.
“So, you get to see Dani coming and going every day?”
“She just moved in. When she took the job, she was staying in a hotel a few miles outside of town, according to MJ. But yes, I’m sure it’ll be torture going forward now that I’ve met her. Thanks for pointing that out,” Grace said.
“I’m so sorry.”
They both laughed.
Grace waited until River finished her cinnamon roll and coffee before scooting her chair back. “Guess I better get to work. I have a boss too.”
“I don’t suppose you know where I could get a rental car?”
“The closest rental office is in Savannah.”
“Oh,” River said.
“But I think they might have a loaner you could use at Cahill’s garage, where Clay took your car.”
“Really? I’m supposed to meet the Realtor today to go over my aunt’s property. I suppose I could call her and see if she’d pick me up—”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m sure Clay can find something.” Grace finished her final sip of coffee. “I can drop you off on my way if you like.”
“If it’s no trouble.”
“None at all. Then you’ll have a chance to see Clay again.”
River’s face flushed bright pink. “I suppose I need some lessons in subtlety too.” River followed Grace toward the door.
“Heightened observational skills are part of my job.”
“Noted.”
Grace turned partway to l
ook at River, and she had a quizzical look on her face. “Something you want to ask, River?”
“So, you know Clay well?”
“We’ve been close since high school. She and Trip are my best friends.”
River sighed and suddenly couldn’t meet Grace’s eyes. “Is she single?”
“Yes.” Grace could tell by the way River fidgeted with her handbag strap that she had other questions, but maybe wasn’t ready to ask them. River Hemsworth didn’t seem like the kind of woman who beat around the bush for long.
Grace gave River the nickel commentary on the town as she drove toward the garage. She had a feeling if River stuck around the two of them would become friends. It would be great to have another femme to talk to. She dropped River in the garage parking lot and sped away before Clay made it to her car. If Clay didn’t see her face, maybe she wouldn’t know Grace was purposely putting River in her path, just like she and Trip had agreed yesterday at Mosquito Alley. Besides, Clay had a fancy Italian motorcycle that she adored, all black and chrome badass with some fancy name. She could loan River her truck.
Grace was fixing her second cup of coffee at the station when Clay badgered Patsy into putting her through to Grace. “You know we don’t have rental cars, Grace Booker.” Clay’s tone said she wasn’t nearly as upset as she wanted Grace to believe.
“The woman needed a car, Clay. You have two vehicles. You should at least try to be a full-service business. And invite her to the night market. She’s new in town.” Clay hung up before Grace could say more. Clay and River would work it out. Grace was too busy with arrangements for this evening’s market to play full-time matchmaker.
* * *
Dani searched for a parking spot near the Pine Cone Diner for lunch and finally stopped on the street behind a truck with a hound dog sitting in the open bed and black smoke belching from its tailpipe. A group of men smoking cigarettes watched a deputy release the windshield wiper of Trip’s vet truck with a slap to secure the ticket she just wrote. The deputy, definitely not femme Grace Booker, rested her hand on the holstered gun at her hip for a moment shaking her head as if Trip’s truck had somehow personally offended her.
Everything about the scenario chafed—polluting the environment, endangering a dog not properly secured in a truck, and a cop with an attitude, just like the authoritarians who’d harassed the residents in her low-income housing neighborhood as a child. One year in this town tops, less if another decent zoo job opened. She hoped something materialized before she lost her mind or started drawling her words.
She walked toward the diner and frowned at the memory of her newest patient, not a hound dog or a farm animal, but an exotic bird with health challenges. The owner, to her surprise, was the proprietor of the B and B where she was staying, and very easy on the eyes. But Grace already had three strikes against her on Dani’s scorecard. She was obviously unqualified to care for her parrot, she was a cop, and she’d admitted never wanting to leave Pine Cone—unlike Dani whose hopes and dreams, along with most of her possessions, awaited her in a storage unit in Baltimore.
Dani pushed Grace from her mind and entered the diner. Too many people crowded the tiny space, their voices competing, reminding her of the nightly shouting matches in the apartment high-rise of her youth. And the décor, if it could truly be called decorative, consisted of antique cups, saucers, and coffee pots on shelves, and pictures of livestock tacked to the walls, all covered with a thin layer of dust. In the civilized world, this place would fail a health inspection and be closed as a public hazard. She turned to leave. Contracting a disease from an unclean restaurant occupied last place on her list of new things to try. She should’ve eaten Mary Jane’s semi-healthy breakfast before rushing out this morning, but Grace had been eyeballing her like a tasty cinnamon roll causing an unwelcome spike in her hormones.
“There’s a spot at the end of the counter,” a waitress yelled and pointed to the far side of the room.
“Never mind.” Dani held onto the door, but everyone stopped talking and stared as if leaving was a social faux pas. “Well, okay.” She folded to the pressure, slowly released the door handle, and wound her way through the throng of people to the vacant barstool.
“Hey, everybody, this is Danielle Wingate, Trip’s new vet,” the waitress, whose nametag read Jolene, called out.
Jolene, the town crier Brenda warned her about. Great. Dani hated being in the spotlight for any reason. “It’s Dani,” she barely whispered and covered her face with the menu.
“I was beginning to think you were never coming in. What can I get you, darling?”
Dani held the menu firmly in front of her, refusing to make eye contact or encourage conversation with the brash stranger. “Coffee.”
Jolene placed a finger on the edge of the menu and slowly lowered it, forcing Dani to look at her. “Didn’t quite catch that. Did you say coffee?”
Dani nodded.
“Something to eat?” She smiled and warmth lit her face.
Dani perused the offerings for something that required high heat and was hard to mess up. “Can I still get breakfast?”
“All day long.” Jolene cocked her hip against the edge of the counter.
“Special, please, wheat toast instead of biscuit.”
“Gotcha.” Jolene turned around and shouted toward the kitchen. “Special breakfast, deep six the biscuit, lay on the wheat.”
Now that the whole town knew who she was and what she ordered for breakfast, they resumed talking in low tones that quickly built to a loud drone. She pulled her cell phone from her back jeans pocket to ward off any unwelcome conversation, pleased with the two bars of signal strength. She searched Google for lesbian bars in the area and watched the color wheel of doom spin.
“Is this seat taken?”
Dani recognized Grace Booker’s low, sexy voice and the combination of sweet flowery perfume before she saw her, annoyed that she could already identify both. When she spotted the leg of Grace’s uniform pants from the corner of her eye, she shifted on her stool to put distance between them but didn’t answer. Grace attracted people and conversations like Dani repelled them and being near her raised the risk of more talk and sharing. Not good.
“Hi, Jolene, Diet Coke and a BLT with Duke’s, please.”
“Coming up, Sheriff.”
Grace shook her head. “Still just a deputy.”
“You’ll always be the sheriff in my book.” Jolene placed a Styrofoam cup of Coke and crushed ice in front of her.
Grace waited for the bubbles to settle before taking a healthy swig. “Oh my God. This is a lifesaver.” She turned sideways to face Dani, her knees brushing Dani’s thigh and producing a jolt of sensation. “Haven’t seen you since the breakfast bar. Busy morning?”
Dani sucked in a quick breath at the contact and tried to parlay the unusual sound into a question. “So, what’s Duke’s?”
“Seriously? You must be a city girl. Duke’s Mayonnaise. No self-respecting Southerner eats any sandwich without Duke’s. What do folks put on sandwiches where you’re from?”
“Baltimore and Hellman’s.”
Grace leaned in conspiratorially, and Dani caught another whiff of her delicious-smelling perfume, and her skin tingled. “Don’t say that too loudly or you’ll be run out of town.”
If a job came with her exile, Dani would gladly run through the streets of Pine Cone declaring her love for everything above the Mason-Dixon Line. If only escape were that easy.
“How’s Harry today?”
Dani fought the distraction of Grace’s continued contact with her thigh. Grace was very touchy-feely, and that kind of person was too hard to figure out. Touch equaled sex for Dani. She pressed her knees together and refocused on Grace’s question. “Seems okay.” She finally glanced at Grace but looked away before they made eye contact. Her eyes were clearer today, and she looked rested and sounded more chipper, but Dani shouldn’t be noticing any of those things.
As if somehow intuiti
ng what Dani had been thinking, Grace said, “I should thank you for a great night’s sleep.”
Jolene placed their food on the counter at the same time. “What? The two of you slept together? Already?”
Dani slapped her napkin over her mouth to stop a spurt of coffee.
“No, Jolene, we did not,” Grace said. “She kept Dirty Harry at the clinic overnight, and I finally got some peace and quiet.”
“I like my version of the story better. I heard Karla dumped you for some redhead from North Carolina who drives a pickup. Redheads are always trouble. What are you going to do about Harry? He hates you.” Without waiting for a reply, Jolene sashayed to the other end of the counter, pouring coffee, and talking all the way.
“Thanks for cutting her off.” Dani nodded and stirred a glob of something that vaguely resembled oatmeal but was whiter. “What’s this?” Grace laughed again, and it vibrated into Dani where they touched, producing warmth and discomfort. She scooted farther away until her ass barely clung to the barstool.
“Grits, a delicious Southern delicacy. You really should try them.”
Dani spooned the strange mess to the side of her plate. “Hard pass.”
“Jolene, an order of hash browns for Dani please.” Grace slid Dani’s plate closer and scraped the grits onto hers. “Never met a grit I didn’t like. It’s an acquired taste.”
The way Grace took care of her, removing the offending food from her plate and ordering hash browns for her, both pleased and annoyed Dani. She wanted to know things about Grace besides her preference for grits and propensity for touching but filed her curiosity under not a good idea and dug into her eggs, which were surprisingly good. “Weather report says rain this afternoon.” Lame, but keeping things simple and impersonal was necessary around Grace.
“You weren’t listening to WPCG radio, were you?”
“Not sure. My clock radio alarm—”
“Yep, Cloudy McClain. Don’t believe a word he says. Last winter he predicted only a few clouds one day, and we got over five inches of snow, the first significant snowfall in these parts in twenty years. You’d think he would at least be in the ballpark.”
