She laughed softly. “Okay. Point made.”
“I’d better get going,” he said.
She raised her shoulders against another chilly blast of wind. She was definitely cold, and he’d just kissed her. The reality of that was sinking in now. He turned toward the stairs.
“Good night, Chance.”
How he’d missed her. Five years apart, and he was right back where he used to be—longing for the wrong girl. There was something about this porch that melted away his inhibitions, he thought wryly, but he knew that was an excuse. It could have been anywhere—that kiss had been coming for a long time.
Chapter Eight
Work was a great way to escape emotional turbulence, and Chance took full advantage of his job as police chief over the next three days. There was always paperwork that needed his attention, and he pored over it, managing to get a little bit ahead, even. He didn’t normally manage that, but he needed the personal space that paperwork provided.
That evening on the porch with Sadie had shaken him more than he liked to admit. Kissing her had never been his plan. He needed to work with her—and that was where it needed to stop. He’d never had a right to cross that line, and the last time he’d even considered it, his brother’s world had crumbled. How many times had Chance wanted to tell his brother the whole story and ask for forgiveness? But he never had because he knew his feelings for Sadie were the deepest betrayal, and it hadn’t been intentional. Chance would never have stolen his brother’s girl.
Sadie Jenkins had a way of twisting a man’s heart around her little finger, and then shaking him free. She’d done it to both of them, even though Chance had tried to hide it. She’d become his personal cautionary tale about what to avoid. Falling snow and a blanket wrapped around those slender shoulders changed nothing.
Today as he sat at his desk, thumbing through a stack of forms, he was frustrated. While the paperwork had effectively kept him closeted away in his office, it hadn’t given him anything substantial to keep his brain occupied. Paperwork was mind-numbingly boring, and it allowed him ample opportunity to remember.
Chance’s parents had always encouraged Chance and Noah to be their own men. As fraternal twins, they looked different—Chance being fair and blue-eyed to Noah’s dark hair and brown eyes. Everything about them was different, except their taste in women...and it had set them up for more fights and head butting than anything else.
Chance could appreciate that they simply had different personalities. Chance was more quiet and introverted. His emotional world stayed safely locked away on the inside, while his brother was a classic extrovert and charmed his way into hearts all around town. And not just with single women. Men enjoyed chatting with him about the game or their cars. Older women loved to try to set him up with their younger relatives. Noah was fun. He made everyone feel like the center of his world, if only for a few minutes.
Chance had thought that Sadie was too young for either of them when Noah had asked her out the first time. She’d been in her early twenties and looked younger still. For the first time in a long while, they disagreed about a woman. But Noah hadn’t let age deter him. Noah was smitten from the start, and he brought her with him to pretty much every family event they had, giving Chance plenty of time to get to know his brother’s girlfriend. And he discovered what Noah already knew—she might look young, but she had maturity beyond her years. She was smart and funny, and when she looked Chance in the eye, his breath caught.
She’s amazing, Noah had said. She’s the whole package, Chance. I’m going to marry her.
For the first time, his brother was in love. Noah was a changed man. His flirting with other women stopped dead. There were a fair number of women around town who were mildly offended to suddenly lose Noah’s flattering attention. The single women who had hoped that his flirtation might mean more had to give up on him. He had eyes for only one woman, and that had changed everything for Chance. Sadie was officially out of bounds.
Except Noah had been right about Sadie. She was the whole package, and the more time Chance spent with her as his brother’s girlfriend, the stronger his feelings for her grew. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. He was supposed to be able to embrace her as a future sister-in-law. It wasn’t as if he’d ever made a move—shown her that he felt anything more than friendship—but there was something about that sparkle in her eyes when she smiled up at him, trying to crack his proper reserve. She’d always seemed to assume that it was the uptight cop inside of him that wouldn’t let loose and she wanted to help him enjoy life a little more. She was wrong, though. It wasn’t only a more reserved personality that kept his defenses up; he was hiding his true feelings for her. She was better off not knowing what really lay beneath that professional shell.
Noah knew Chance better than anyone, and he’d nailed Chance’s true feelings when he announced that he was going to propose.
What is wrong with you? Noah demanded. You don’t like her? Or do you like her too much?
Nothing. Propose. She’ll be thrilled. Chance had shot back. I’m not stopping you.
You never once said you were interested in her, Noah had said, hitting it exactly. You never told me. That’s on you.
Chance wouldn’t admit to feeling anything but brotherly happiness about that upcoming wedding, but Noah had guessed the truth. In return for Chance’s good wishes and support, Noah had thrown every available woman in Larimer County in his direction. Noah billed him as his bashful brother working in law enforcement who needed a woman to help crack that shell. There had been a surprising number of women willing to take on the challenge, especially with Noah off the market.
You need a date to my wedding, Noah had said seriously. That plus one had better be filled.
Chance didn’t have the heart to put a woman through that, though. He could hide his feelings for Sadie, but he couldn’t do that and pretend to have feelings for another woman. It wouldn’t be right. He was a Christian, and he firmly believed that God gave him the strength to do the right thing. He also believed in honesty. Hiding his feelings for Sadie was enough of a lie to live. He wasn’t adding more to that. His plus one had remained empty, and it had been for the best. Noah had needed his support that day, more than anyone had ever anticipated.
Chance finished inputting the last file, then closed the folder and pushed it across his desk. He was plagued by guilt. His brother was dead, but he still felt like he was betraying him all over again. He had no business caving in to old feelings for Sadie rooted in the time when she was Noah’s. He’d prayed last night that God would just turn these feelings for Sadie off, but God hadn’t said yes to that one. And why not? Was this a test? Because if so, last night he’d failed miserably.
His desk phone rang, and Chance picked it up.
“Sir, there is a call from Shelby West on line one.”
Shelby West was Terrance West’s mother. He’d been one of the young men who had died in the fighting overseas, and Toby Gillespie had contacted Shelby for information about her son. He closed his eyes and suppressed a grimace. Right now, complaints were the last thing he needed.
“Put her through,” Chance said, and there was a soft click. “Mrs. West?”
“Hello, Chief. I’m glad I managed to catch you. I know you’re busy.”
“Not a problem,” Chance said. “What can I do for you?”
“We had a visit from one of your officers yesterday,” she said slowly. “An Officer Toby something. I think it started with a G. I wish I could remember, now...”
“Gillespie,” Chance provided. “Yes, I know he went by. How did it go?”
“What a nice young guy!” There were tears in her voice, and Chance blinked. “I’m sorry.” A sniffle. “He was just what my husband needed, Chief. That police officer was in the military, too, for a few years, and he could empathize with what Terrance would have gone through. He shared a f
ew of his own stories about combat, and he...well, he just understood.”
Relief flooded through Chance’s shoulders and spine. This could have gone the other way. Was it possible that Toby’s inner soldier had a place here in the force?
“I’m glad to hear that, Mrs. West,” Chance said. “I’ll be sure to let Officer Gillespie know that you appreciated the time he spent with you. We’re going to try to do you proud in our ceremony coming up.”
“I do appreciate that,” Shelby replied. “Terrance deserves it. And tell that young man that if he ever wants a piece of pie and a coffee, he’s to just come on by. He’s always welcome.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, ma’am,” Chance said. Probably more than she realized. “I’ll pass along the message.”
After they said their goodbyes, Chance hung up the phone and shook his head in silent amazement. He’d hoped that Toby would be able to soften his approach with these families, but he hadn’t even dared to hope for a reaction this positive. God certainly worked in mysterious ways—that intimidating officer was exactly what a soft-spoken mother needed in her grief. And perhaps the Wests had been what Toby needed, too. Healing wasn’t always a straight line, and everyone’s path was a little different.
Including his own.
* * *
Sadie sat at the kitchen table, her swatches of American flag–inspired ribbon laying in front of her. It had been three days since she’d seen Chance, and she’d managed to nail down a printer for the booklets that would be handed out at the ceremony. She’d written up much of the content, but she still needed the personal information about the four soldiers. She’d been waiting for Chance to give her a call when he had the details, but so far he hadn’t made contact.
She was feeling cautious, too, after that kiss on the porch. She’d gone over the details of the evening again and again, trying to pin down exactly what had happened, but she couldn’t. All she knew was that in the close quiet of the falling snow, Chance had kissed her. It hadn’t been a brotherly kiss, either. That was no chaste peck, and the memory of his lips moving over hers sped up her heart.
She’d never imagined that so much tenderness lay under that granite reserve. She’d seen a hint of it that night before her wedding when they’d come within a whisper of a kiss, but last night Chance had dropped that self-restraint, and she could still remember what it felt like to be held close in those strong arms, the scent of musky cologne tickling her nose. He’d said that he wasn’t his brother, and that kiss had certainly proved it. She’d never been kissed quite like that. She exhaled a shaky breath.
But in some ways, Chance was no different from his brother. He was a good man with a lot to offer, and she was a woman with too many emotional issues at the moment. She’d always imagined herself different from her mother, but Lori had done the same thing—over and over again. She’d found a nice guy, settled down with him, convinced herself that he was worth it and then changed her mind. Sadie had never seen the fallout left behind by her mother’s choices, and she’d been too young to really understand it all. But she’d never even suspected that she was like her mother when it came to romantic relationships, until she’d felt that rush of relief as she drove away from her wedding five years ago. And she couldn’t do that to another good man—let him love her and then break his heart. A woman had a responsibility in these things, too. Sadie wasn’t a houseplant or dish towel. She wasn’t available to be swept off by whomever would claim her, and whether or not that kiss had left her breathless didn’t matter. She’d almost married Chance’s brother, and she wasn’t taking any more risks with the Morgan family.
Sadie had a job to do here, and if three days of going over that night on the porch hadn’t resolved it in her mind, then another day wouldn’t help. She needed to focus on what she could actually achieve. The mayor had a budget for supplies, and the wide ribbon that she preferred would bite into that budget more than she liked, but the others just weren’t up to par. This was part of event planning—keeping the event affordable for her client—and Mayor Scott knew what he wanted. He might put up a casual, down-home kind of image, but underneath that public presentation was a detail-oriented perfectionist. Nothing shy of a bull’s-eye for both image and budget would please him.
“I like that one,” Nana said, pointing to a wide, crimson-and-white-striped ribbon, scattered with stars.
“Me, too,” Sadie said with a wry smile. “It’s the most expensive.”
“So how is our mayor doing?” Nana asked, pulling out the chair next to Sadie and sitting down.
“He’s made it very clear that if I don’t do this his way, he won’t be hiring me for his daughter’s wedding,” Sadie said. And she wanted that wedding—it would be a whole new level of accomplishment in her fledgling career path. Trina Scott’s wedding would solidify her as a top choice for all of the who’s who in Larimer County.
“His mother and I were good friends,” Nana said. Sadie knew this. It was the personal connection that Sadie had with the mayor—the reason she’d been given a chance to begin with.
“I know, I know, and he used to give little speeches even as a child,” Sadie said with a low laugh.
“He also used to steal cookies,” Nana said, arching one eyebrow. “And he wet his pants in a silent revolt when he didn’t get his way until he was six.”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “We were all kids once, Nana.”
While she hadn’t been a pants-wetter, she had quite a list of naughty antics she’d gotten up to in her girlhood.
“I know, and we can forgive all those things because he was just a little guy, but he’s now a grown man with the same tendency to have silent revolts.” The older woman fingered the ribbon thoughtfully. “So keep that in mind, dear. He’s a good friend to have because he can open doors for you all over the county, but Mayor Scott will be true to his word if you don’t do things his way.”
“I know.” Sadie sighed. “But that’s the business, isn’t it? I’m here to bring people’s wishes into reality. Everyone brings emotion to the table.”
Including Chance. She pushed his face out of her mind. This wasn’t supposed to be about Chance.
“And you’re very good at this.” Nana reached over and patted Sadie’s hand. “I’m so proud of you. Let me fetch us some pie.”
That was how most conversations with Nana ended, with a kind word and something to eat. Sadie watched her grandmother head over to the fridge, and then she put her attention back into the work in front of her. She didn’t have a lot of time left. If she chose the more expensive ribbon, she might be able to cut costs elsewhere, but her order at the craft store needed to be submitted by morning to get it from the supplier in time and avoid extra costs.
But it wasn’t the ribbon that worried her, it was the framework of the event. They mayor wanted an emotional, personal commemoration of the young men they’d lost. He wanted to show them as kids, as teenagers, as a part of the community and Sadie didn’t have a right to do that with Noah’s memory, especially not without Chance’s blessing. She’d been a part of Noah’s personal life, and when she’d walked away, she’d forfeited any right to use that personal connection to him. Except, the mayor was her boss in this, and she had to give him the ceremony he wanted. She was trapped.
Sadie pulled her laptop forward and opened the file for the booklet. She had to get this submitted to the printer, too, if they wanted a high-quality keepsake from the event. She glanced at her watch. It was half-past four, and he’d likely still be in the office.
“I’d better get that information from Chance,” Sadie said. She couldn’t wait for him to call her any longer.
“Should I give you some privacy?” Nana stood in front of the open fridge, a pie in her hands.
“We’re professional contacts, Nana,” Sadie said, standing up. That was as much as Nana needed to know, anyway. She pulled out her cell phone and N
ana brought the pie to the counter. But as she dialed his number, she found herself wandering in the direction of the living room.
Nana looked out from the kitchen, a piece of pie on a plate, and she gave Sadie a small, secretive smile. Sadie rolled her eyes in return. If only Nana knew the half of it.
Sadie just needed to buck up already, act like the competent woman that she was. Whatever happened on that porch had nothing to do with her job.
The phone rang and Chance picked up. “Chief Morgan.”
“Hi, Chance, it’s me... Sadie.” She closed her eyes in frustration. She’d already called him by his first name, and this wasn’t a personal call. “Chief, I mean.”
“Sadie...” He paused. “Look, I’m sorry about the other night.”
“Me, too.”
“That one was on me,” he replied quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it—”
“And avoiding me,” she added.
He chuckled. “Maybe a little, but that was only because I needed to sort out why I did it.”
“And why did you?” she asked.
“Poor judgment?” He sighed. “I was wrong. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Sadie swallowed. Poor judgment—the words every girl wanted to hear when she’d been kissed.
“I can do that,” she assured him. “We’ll just—not repeat it.”
“Agreed.” He sounded relieved. “I really am sorry, Sadie. This is all hard enough without any more complication.”
“Chance, it’s fine. I’m a grown woman. It isn’t like I haven’t been kissed before.” Although, granted, she’d never felt quite so breathless afterward. She glanced toward the kitchen—had Nana heard that? Here was hoping she hadn’t.
“So...anything I can do for you?” he asked.
“I’m just checking in with you about the personal details from the other men.”
“Of course.” His tone was turning professional again, and she wasn’t sure if she was glad to hear the change, or not. They were better off on professional footing, but that kiss—while entirely inappropriate—had been personal. And she’d missed a personal connection to Chance.
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