Trent wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So your grandmother raised you?”
Jessie nodded, realizing that he probably hadn’t known that yet. “Yes. For most of my life, anyway. It was fun living at the inn. Hiding in the empty rooms while she and Charlotte cleaned. Helping them cook and set up for breakfast or social hour. Guess I was destined to take over someday.” Ever since Jessie had come back to Cobble Creek, she’d loved the idea. Had seen herself happily doing so until her dying day, like Grandma had. But today, as she sat across from Trent Lockheart at Great Steaks on Main, a hint of disappointment coated her words.
“Do you enjoy it? Running the place?”
She brightened at the question. “Yes. I love it.” Jessie nodded as she felt the truth in her own words. She loved her life. She was happy with things just the way they were.
Trent grinned, pushing his plate away and leaned back against the booth seat. His napkin rested atop his plate, which was empty save the hollowed peel of a baked potato.
Jessie stacked some green beans onto her fork. “What made you want to be a cop?” she asked before taking the bite.
Trent’s expression changed, and his blue eyes appeared guarded. He shifted his gaze to the view out the window, not that there was much to look at on this side. An alleyway, a few potted plants, and the back entrance to the laundromat. “A lot of things,” he mumbled.
“That’s specific,” Jessie said.
He shifted in his seat, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Was it the topic that made him nervous? Did he have a shady past? That was doubtful, seeing that he was a cop. Unless he was one of those ones who turned his life around after being on the other side of things. She guessed that was possible.
“Excuse me.” Trent quickly worked his way out of the cramped booth.
Jessie spun around to see him stride toward the corner of the place where he’d been looking. She thought she was imagining his hurry at first, but then he darted around a guy, knocked into a waiter’s tray, tipping dirty cups and dishes onto the floor. He moved faster still, and Jessie stood to keep an eye on the action.
A larger man stood there, his hands at his neck, his face the color of a ripened plum. She watched as Trent flung his arms around the man from behind, his hands meeting in the center, where he hoisted a few deep thrusts.
Choking! The guy was choking!
A storm erupted within Jessie’s chest—one massive crack of thunder after the next. Angry strikes of lightning zapping her heart as it thumped out of beat. Please, Lord, don’t let him die.
A crowd gathered, making it hard to see. She rushed between the tables, standing on tiptoes and leaning right and left. The thunderclaps moved to her head—crashing in swells that made it hard to hear past the high-pitched ringing in her ears.
She leaned far over, tipping her head to see past a lady with a high nest of hair. Yet before Jessie caught another glimpse of the action, wild applause broke out over the place.
Jessie gulped as if she, too, had been deprived of air. Relief flooded over her like the hot, steamy spray of a shower, calming the tense nerves that tightened her chest. Guests wandered back to their tables in a slow trickle, creating a clear view of Trent.
The guy he’d saved rubbed a hand over his chest while a woman—probably the man’s wife—clenched Trent’s hand, shaking it feverishly. Tears ran down her ruddy cheeks as she spoke to him, her head shaking in apparent disbelief.
Soon, Jessie told herself. Trent would join her back at their table soon. She should let the woman express her gratitude.
Jessie shuffled back to the table in a daze, slid into the booth, and turned her gaze out the window. It wasn’t dark yet, but it may as well have been—the mental mud of her mind blocking it all out. He’d just saved a man that might have died just now, in front of everyone, in that very moment. His wife would be left alone. Kids—fatherless. Grandkids, if there were any, heartbroken. But Trent stopped that all from happening. Thank you, God, for allowing us to be here on this night. For helping Trent save that man’s life.
How often did Trent do things like that? Sure, Jessie had learned basic CPR years ago, but when it came to putting it into practice … luckily she’d never had to. Was it some requirement for police officers to know how to do that type of thing? Cops saved lives all the time, at the risk of their own lives more often than not, she guessed.
The hand she reached toward her iced tea was weak and shaky. The cocktail of emotions conjured one heavy thought after the next. She glanced over her shoulder to see a small line of people giving Trent kind words and back pats as he worked his way to her. One handsome devil, as Char had said. The dream came back to life in her head, that incredibly wonderful kiss—the scene seeming like a very real possibility now that she was on a date with him. The acknowledgement was a thrilling one. Against all of her reservations, Jessie admitted inwardly that she wanted his kiss.
She turned to face the table once more, realizing someone had already removed his plate. Steak fries and green beans rested in front of her, but she didn’t feel like eating them now.
“Piping hot lava cake, on the house.”
Jessie stared down at the dessert plate, and then up to the waiter who’d brought it. Scratch that—he looked more like a manager.
“I’m Ralph Stetson, owner of Great Steaks,” he said as Trent slid back into the booth across from her. “On behalf of the Stetson family, we’d like to thank you for your heroic deed and welcome you to Cobble Creek. I hear you’re the new sheriff, is that right?”
Trent glanced at Jessie with a lifted brow.
“Oh, it wasn’t her who told me. Benny mentioned that you might be coming in. We’re sure glad you did.”
“I am too,” Trent said. “Benny wasn’t kidding—you guys serve up a dang good steak, I’ll tell you that.”
The owner chuckled, giving Trent another hearty pat on the back. “Well, you two enjoy your dessert. Hope to see you in here again soon.”
Trent gave him a nod and a grin, charisma oozing off him in spades. “You can count on it.” When his gaze finally settled back on her, Jessie felt starstruck. The man had big-screen good looks, for sure. But there was more to him than that. Especially now that she’d seen him in action.
“So that’s what you do in your spare time? Go to restaurants and save choking people between courses?”
He grinned, the sight causing warmth to whirl in her chest. “Only if I want free dessert.” He ran his thumb along the edge of the table, the look of contemplation on his face. He motioned to the two forks resting on a fresh napkin beside the cake. “Shall we?”
“Sure.” She waited for him to dig in first before cutting away a bite with her fork. A pool of dark, melted chocolate spilled from the center. A calorie concern weaseled into her mind, but as soon as Jessie tasted the moist cake with the rich, chocolate sauce, she silenced any worries. She could indulge for a night. In more ways than one, she thought, liking the way her heart hopped each time she met Trent’s gaze. Thoughts of kissing him grew more tempting with each passing breath.
“Sheriff?” Jessie looked up to see the wife of the man Trent had saved. She stood beside the table, shifting her weight from one foot to the next. “Clark is really sorry for cussing you out the other day,” she said. “He wanted to tell you himself, but he’s too embarrassed.”
Trent glanced at Jessie before looking back to the woman. “No worries,” he said. “I’ve already forgotten about it.”
“No, really,” she insisted. “I couldn’t believe some of the things he said. I’m surprised you didn’t just let him choke.”
A tight laugh sounded in Trent’s throat. He gave the woman a polite nod. “Well … thanks. You two have a nice night, okay?”
After patting Trent on the shoulder, the woman walked to the front of the store where her husband waited for her, his face still red.
“Wow,” Jessie said through a grin. “Is there anyone here who hasn’t chewed you out already?”
&n
bsp; He glanced around the room with narrowed eyes. “Uh, no. Wait, that one right there.” He pointed at a small girl seated in a high chair. “She hasn’t chewed me out yet.”
As if on cue, the toddler scowled over at him with an ornery grunt and tossed a handful of food. The morsels barely made it past her tray, but the action caused Jessie and Trent to laugh right out loud.
“Scratch that,” he said. “Looks like she has a bone to pick with me after all.”
Jessie laughed, enjoying the mystery Trent presented. He was interesting, which led her back to their conversation. “So you didn’t answer my question. Why law enforcement?”
Trent caught a drip of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, drawing attention to the perfectly masculine features of his jaw and lips. The five-o’clock shadow seemed to chase him throughout the day, despite his apparent efforts to remain clean-shaven.
“Save lives, I guess. I started out as an EMT. Saw close calls, almost-saves, and everything in between.” Haunting tales reflected in his eyes as he paused, a furrow pulling over his azure gaze. “There were so many avoidable accidents. Circumstances where—had people just followed the law—lives would have been spared. Did you know that speeding is the number one broken law that leads to death?”
She shook her head. “Number one? No, but it makes sense, I guess.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I decided maybe I could step in and make a difference beforehand, you know? Prevent at least some accidents from happening at all.”
It was a good answer—Jessie couldn’t deny that. She liked Trent. Couldn’t help but wonder just why it was she’d decided to remain single and alone all her life.
Odd—a decision she hadn’t wavered on in years suddenly seemed almost silly. No, she assured herself, there was a reason. A good one. You’re being hypnotized by his appeal. And charm. And heroic dedication to saving lives. And maybe by the muscles along his forearms, accented by shadows from the light hanging over their table.
She shifted her gaze back to his face and noticed him looking at her. Their eyes locked, and the intimacy stretched into the lonely parts of her heart. If their attraction was gunpowder, his gaze was a freshly lit match, threatening to create an explosion.
So why wasn’t she running?
Perhaps the answer was clear. Things had gotten a little stale in her life. And just as spectators anticipated fireworks on the Fourth of July, Jessie wanted to see what the fresh sparks between them could do.
Chapter 13
Just what in the world was Trent doing? Making goo-goo eyes at a woman who’d no sooner fall for him than she would the dish boy clearing tables.
He tugged his wallet out of his pocket, rested a few bills on the check, and gave Jessie a subtle nod. “You ready to go?”
She glanced up from the bills. “Don’t you ever use credit, like the rest of us?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Hmm. Well, you know you could collect points, right? Like, money back on everything you spend?”
He frowned at her with disapproval. “So I hear. Nearly every time I check out at the market or warehouse.”
She giggled and shimmied out of the booth. “There’s another bonus,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“You won’t get harassed by store employees about opening a credit account.”
Trent rolled his eyes. “Maybe I like it.”
“You probably do.”
They made their way to the truck, where he let her inside before stepping around to the driver’s side.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “Never knew what all the fuss was about that place, but now I do.”
Trent nodded. “Now you do. And so do I.” He turned his attention to the wheel and started the truck. A quick glance at Jessie said she hadn’t taken her eyes off him yet. “Uh,” he said with a laugh. “I was planning to take you for ice cream next and take it to the …” He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his recent texts. “Waterside Park. Guess it’s real nice during sunset.”
“I see,” Jessie said, warm tones of sunlight touching her cheeks. “But now—due to your Superman stunt back there—dessert has already been crossed off the list.”
“Pretty much. Unless you’re up for more.”
She leaned her head to one side. “How about we pass on the ice cream.”
A rock of disappointment landed in his gut.
“And …” she added, “just check out the sunset instead?”
He gave her a nod as relief swept in. “Not a bad idea.”
“You’ve got to get your money’s worth, right?” She flashed him a wink. Something she might not have done if she understood just how starved he’d been in the woman department. By design, of course. But still, Jessie awakened a feverish sort of desire he hadn’t felt in years. Lust, he decided. That’s what it was. He didn’t know her well enough for it to be anything more. Good old-fashioned infatuation.
He pulled onto the street, trying to ignore the voice that said there could be more to it. After all, Jessie seemed to be into him, too. Of course, it just might be that she didn’t want to be rude. He’d donated all that money to her cause, and now she had to do her part. Play nice. Act interested. Wink at him?
Who knew? He was never good at sorting out the ways of a woman, something that had made his choice to never marry a little easier than it might have been.
Trent’s musings put a damper on his enthusiasm by the time they arrived at the place Benny told him about. But he had to say, the place did not disappoint. The pond—which might more adequately be called a lake—seemed to go on … all the way to the end of the earth. And at the horizon, shining bright and round and gold, the setting sun cast a spectrum of warm tones across the sky. As if that wasn’t enough, the large body of water reflected the beauty, emphasizing just how splendid it really was. Leafy maples shaded several park benches placed over the hilly grass.
“I can see why he suggested this,” Trent said, the words coming out in a reverent whisper.
“Yeah,” Jessie replied in a similar tone. “It’s stunning. Funny, because I tell people to come check it out if they have time—you know, when they ask about some of the nearby attractions—but it’s been a long time since I’ve come myself.”
Trent grabbed a blanket from behind the seat before walking around to open Jessie’s door. “My lady,” he mumbled, extending an arm to her. She looped a gentle hand around the crook of his elbow. He liked the feel of it there more than he should allow. But why not throw a bit of caution to the wind? When was the last time he’d let his passions take him where they might go?
Oh heck, Trent, you sound like a danged teenager. He’d skipped that phase of his life. He most likely couldn’t live it out now that he was a grown man.
It was a good thing he’d had a blanket in his truck. There was a bite in the breeze. He let Jessie pick out a bench and positioned the blanket over her shoulders once she was seated.
She surprised him by wrapping it around him, too, once he sat down next to her. “Thank you.” She leaned into him and sighed, her lovely lilac scent playing with more senses in more ways than he could count.
“I used to dream of my granddad bringing me here. He died before I was born, but my grandma would always talk about it, saying that if he were still here, he’d take me fishing every weekend. It was his favorite thing to do.”
“Did anyone ever take you?”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t Grandma’s thing. Without him to get the fish off the hook, fillet it before she cooked it …” Jessie died off before turning the question on him. “Do you ever fish?”
“Yes. I love fishing. I haven’t been in a while, though. My dad used to take us until … well, I guess he thought we outgrew it.” Trent’s face grew hot as he realized what he’d almost revealed. It wasn’t that his brother’s death was some great secret. But the topic always led to the inevitable how did he die question, and that wasn’t something Trent wanted
to discuss.
“How about I bring you back here sometime and we can fish together? Benny says there’s a whole lot of rainbow trout.”
The question pulsed in the air like a sad, waning heartbeat. Silence came next—the dreaded flat line. “Or not …” he said through an awkward laugh.
“Oh! No, the fishing part sounds fun. I guess I’m like my grandma that way. I can’t imagine getting the fish off the hook or gutting it.”
Trent breathed out a sigh of relief. “Not only will I do all that, I’ll fry it up, too. It’s one of the only things I’m actually good at cooking.”
“Superman meets Chef Ramsay?”
He chuckled. “Don’t forget about Ponch.”
“Who’s that?”
Trent gave her a sideways glance. “Haven’t you ever seen CHiPS? He’s a cop.”
A light seemed to go off in her head. “Oh, yeah. Dark hair. Wears sunglasses a lot?”
“That’s him. He’s not quite as attractive as me, of course. But he’s all right.”
She tipped her head back and laughed, then met his gaze, the look of satisfaction in her eyes. “That’s not a bad combo,” she said.
His pulse raced, hot and alive, as she held his gaze. A foreign thrill lifted and stirred in his chest. This was more intimacy than he’d shared in a very long time. And it went a lot deeper than lust. He was a grown man, after all, and it took a lot more than a pretty woman to gain his attention.
He thought of the evening she’d removed the slivers from his arm. There’d been a moment where he felt he could kiss her—that she’d allow it, and kiss him back in return. Of course, he’d been pulled from that thought quickly enough, but the opportunity was presenting itself again. The dreamy, half-closed set of her lids. The way her gaze drifted like a feather down to his lips.
Too soon, he assured himself. Much too soon.
The Sheriff's Bride: Country Brides & Cowboy Boots (Cobble Creek Romance Book 1) Page 8
