Make Me Yours (Top Shelf Romance Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  It’s just dinner.

  I had told myself that weeks ago when Cole had eaten dinner with me at the restaurant. Except it wasn’t just dinner. It was dinner with a man whose touch made me tingle. It was dinner with a man who seemed to bust right through my defenses. It was dinner with a man who stirred feelings I’d reserved for my husband alone.

  “Hi, Son.”

  I broke my gaze away from Cole’s back as another man rounded the side of the house. His necktie was loose and his suit jacket was draped over one arm. Without asking, I knew this must be Cole’s dad. They looked nearly identical except for their age difference. Cole’s dad had a liberal sprinkling of gray in his dark hair and he was a bit softer in the jaw than his son.

  “Hey, Dad. Meet Poppy Maysen. She’s staying for dinner.” Cole nodded toward me, then stepped out of the way so his dad could go inside.

  “Hi, Poppy. I’m Brad.” He waved. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

  “Actually, I should be . . .”

  Brad disappeared into his house before I could finish my sentence.

  “They’ll be disappointed if you don’t stay,” Cole said.

  Sheesh. “A guilt trip? Really?”

  He grinned. “Whatever gets you inside.”

  Two hours later, I stood on the front porch of Cole’s childhood home with a huge smile.

  Dinner had been . . . just dinner.

  Cole must have sensed my internal turmoil because he’d focused mostly on his parents throughout the meal. He’d teased Mia about her two-decade obsession with General Hospital. He’d argued with his dad about the Montana State Bobcat football roster and their chances at making it to the playoffs in the fall. And he’d treated me like I’d been to dinner a hundred times before. Like I was a natural fourth at their dinner table who just needed the occasional explanation for an inside joke.

  And his parents had provided the perfect buffer to the attraction between us.

  “Thank you for joining us.” Mia hugged me on the front porch.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for the meal. I haven’t had anything that delicious in a long time.”

  Cole laughed. “Now she’s lying, Mom. You should eat at her restaurant.”

  “Oh, we plan to,” Mia declared. “We’re going tomorrow night. Got it, Chief? You be home by six.”

  “Yes, Ms. Crane,” Brad agreed as Mia slid into his side.

  I smiled at their endearments as I waved good-bye. At dinner, I’d learned that Brad and Mia had married young but she’d never taken his last name. She called him “Chief” because of his job and he called her “Ms. Crane.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Cole said, carrying my ukulele case down the steps.

  Brad and Mia disappeared back inside as Cole led me down the front walkway and toward my car a few houses down.

  “Your mom is such a good cook.”

  Cole hummed. “You’ve got her beat.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

  I rolled my eyes at the sound of my breathy voice. Why couldn’t I seem to fill my lungs when Cole and I were alone? He’d sat across from me at dinner and I hadn’t had any problems breathing. But now? I felt like I’d just run five miles.

  I took a few slow breaths, hoping that when I spoke again my voice would be back to normal. “Have you found out anything on the case?”

  “Sorry.” He shook his head. “Not quite yet.”

  His eyebrows were furrowed and a couple lines creased his forehead. There was something he wasn’t telling me, but I didn’t press. I was simply grateful he was assisting Detective Simmons.

  “So the ukulele?” he asked, changing topics. “I’m guessing this is another thing on the list.”

  I smiled. “You’d be right. Though, I can’t believe that of all the guitar instructors in Bozeman, I happened to pick your mother as my teacher.” Or that I’d walked into his karate dojo.

  “Coincidence.” He chuckled. “It kind of seems like a recurring theme for us.”

  Was it ever. I was just grateful he hadn’t mentioned all of these coincidences to his parents. Cole had stayed quiet all night about how we really knew one another, giving me a chance to enjoy the evening’s conversation with people who hadn’t known Jamie. It was nice to have a night when no one looked at me with pity or concern about my emotional state.

  Tonight, I’d just been Poppy.

  “My mother is kind of in love with you. Expect a dinner mandate after each of your lessons.”

  I was kind of in love with Mia too. “Then next week, I’ll be sure to bring dessert.”

  “Dessert. That reminds me, I still haven’t tried your famous apple pie.”

  “I’ll be at the restaurant tomorrow if you want to swing by.” The invitation popped out of my mouth before my head could intercede. And once it was out, there was no taking it back.

  Cole smiled as we reached my car. “Then it’s a date.”

  A date.

  A date with Cole Goodman.

  A rush of excitement and a chill of terror slid down my spine.

  41st Birthday: Say yes to everything for an entire day

  Cole

  “What the fuck?”

  I hit the brakes hard, barely making the turn into the parking lot where a Bozeman PD cruiser was parked behind a seventies mint-green Oldsmobile. The patrolman had his ticket clipboard in one hand, while the other was making calming gestures to an irate woman with frizzy gray hair. Her teal muumuu was swinging around her ankles and fuzzy pink bedroom slippers as she poked one knotty finger into the patrolman’s chest.

  As I pulled in right behind the cruiser, I could hear her yelling and cussing over the sound of my diesel engine. Throwing the truck in park, I didn’t bother shutting it off as I hustled out to the scene. Five long strides and I stood behind the patrolman—Officer Terrell Parnow. He was doing his best to hold his ground, but the woman wasn’t small and her jabbing finger was going nonstop.

  The woman glanced at me but kept on yelling. “I’m calling my damn lawyer and you, you son of a—”

  “What seems to be the problem?” My voice held enough bark to shut the crazy lady up. Her eyes flew to mine as Terrell looked over his shoulder.

  His frame deflated as his hand dropped to his side. “Detective Goodman. I was just writing a ticket because—”

  “I’ll tell you what the problem is here.” The woman stepped right around Terrell and into my face. “This kid is trying to give me a speeding ticket when I wasn’t speeding!”

  “Ma’am, you were doing forty in a twenty-five.” He looked to me with pleading brown eyes. “Honest, Detective. I’ve got her on radar.”

  She whirled around on Terrell—her muumuu whipping me in the shins—but before she could launch into another rant, I stepped between them. I stood my tallest, looking right down my nose into the woman’s paling face. “Speeding and assault on a law enforcement officer. Not good.”

  She stuttered back a step, slapping a hand to her chest. “What?” she gasped. “Assault?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But—”

  “Officer Parnow, mind if I borrow your cuffs? I left mine in the truck.”

  The woman gasped again.

  “Detective, I don’t, um . . .” He moved out from behind me to my side, speaking underneath his breath. “I don’t think we need to charge her with assault.”

  “I’ll take the speeding ticket.” The woman flew to Terrell’s side like he was her new best friend. “Please.”

  I held back a grin, fighting to keep the scowl on my face. “I don’t know. It looked awful serious when I pulled up.”

  “I get carried away sometimes,” she told me, then looked over to Terrell, nodding fiercely. “I was going too fast. You were right.”

  Terrell looked to me and I shrugged. “It’s your call, Officer.”

  He nodded, turning back to the woman who was now clinging to his arm. “Ma’am, if you’ll get back in your car, I
’ll finish with the speeding ticket. Then you can be on your way.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She squeezed his arm and then let him go, ducking eye contact with me as she scurried back into her Olds.

  When her driver’s door shut, I chuckled.

  “Would you have charged her?” Terrell asked.

  “Nah. I just wanted to shut her up.”

  Terrell grinned. “Smart.”

  I shrugged and jerked my chin to the Olds. “Give her the ticket and get her on her way.”

  “Yes, sir.” He took his clipboard back to her window, returning her license and registration. Then he tore off a goldenrod speeding ticket and away she roared, pulling out of the parking lot with—careful—haste.

  “Thanks.” Terrell joined me by his cruiser and sighed. “That got out of hand. Seems to be happening to me a lot lately.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s part of the job.”

  “Every time? I haven’t had a stop in a month without getting a load of shit. Do you think I’m doing something wrong?”

  “I doubt it.” I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll go out on patrol with you for a while.”

  His entire face lit up. “Really?”

  “Really. Let me grab my keys.” I walked back to my truck, leaning in to shut off the ignition and get my keys. Then I plucked my sunglasses out of the console and went to the cruiser.

  Sliding into the passenger seat, I grinned at Terrell’s excitement. His dark face was split with a wide, white smile, and his fingers drummed on the wheel.

  “So you’ve been having some rough stops lately?” I asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Yeah.” His smile turned down. “No matter how polite I am, everyone fights the ticket. I asked a couple of the other guys on patrol, but none of them seem to be having the same problem.”

  I didn’t want to be the one to break it to the kid, but his face was probably the reason he’d had such a hard time lately. Not because of the color of his skin, but because at twenty-something years old, Terrell Parnow had a baby face if I’d ever seen one.

  Round, chubby cheeks. Soft brown eyes. There wasn’t a thing hard or angular about him. Add to that his shorter stature and skinny frame, and the only intimidating thing about the kid was his gun.

  But if someone didn’t step in, his confidence would keep getting rattled and only make the situation worse. He’d either quit the force or someone would think they could push him too far.

  “Look, Terrell. I’ll be straight with you here.” I slid off my sunglasses so he could see my eyes. “You’re fighting an uphill battle. You’re half the size of most guys on patrol, and people aren’t going to take you seriously by default. You’ve got to figure out a way to be assertive but not come across as a dick. Find the balance between pushover and asshole. Understand?”

  Terrell stayed quiet. The radio clicked on and off as dispatch made calls to other cars, but the kid didn’t say a word.

  Shit. Was that too blunt? Had I scared him? He had to know he looked like a teenager, right? I opened my mouth to tone it down a bit, but he spoke up first.

  “What if I grew a beard?”

  I grinned. “It’s worth a shot.”

  “Thanks, Detective. I appreciate the honesty.”

  “No problem. And it’s Cole.”

  He nodded. “Cole.”

  “One other thing,” I said as we passed another patrol car heading in the opposite direction. “If the other guys on patrol say every stop is a good one, they’re full of shit. With every four good stops, you’ll have one bad. That’s normal for everyone and we’ve all been there. Toughen up that skin and don’t let the bad ones get to you.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. We rode in silence for a few blocks until Terrell spoke again. “What should I have done differently with that woman?”

  I rubbed my jaw, the stubble thicker than normal because I hadn’t shaved this morning. “If I was in your spot today, I wouldn’t have let her out of the car. I wouldn’t have let her cuss at me, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t have let her touch me. But when I was your age? When I was a rookie? I probably would have done the same thing as you. I would have stood there and taken her shit until she ran out of steam. Then I would have handed her the ticket and gotten back in my cruiser and had a beer when I got home.”

  “No shit?” His frame perked up.

  “No shit.”

  For the next hour, we drove around Bozeman, staying fairly quiet. I’d been on my way to Poppy’s restaurant for an early dinner break when I’d seen Terrell, but this hour or two was important for the young patrolman. So I rode along, marveling at how much my hometown had changed over the years.

  Bozeman had once been a small college ski town, but the population had boomed these last ten years. Big-box stores and chain restaurants had flocked to this mountain valley. Construction had reached an all-time high as builders replaced wheat fields with apartment complexes and townhomes. Open lots had been filled with tech centers and office buildings.

  “Have you lived here long?” I asked Terrell.

  “Just a couple of years. I moved from Arizona to Montana for the skiing, then decided to go to the academy.”

  “Bozeman is changing fast. None of this was here when I was in high school.” I pointed to the new subdivisions on both sides of the street. We were at the far edge of town, miles from where I remembered the last stoplight being when I was a kid.

  Terrell smiled. “I hear we might be getting a Best Buy.”

  I frowned. “Great.” I could live without a Best Buy.

  I missed the hometown feel that Bozeman once had. I ran into fewer and fewer familiar faces at the grocery store these days. I got stuck in traffic almost every morning. And walking down Main Street, something I remembered fondly as a kid, now just pissed me off. The local shops had lost some of their authenticity, becoming too fancy in an effort to mimic ski towns like Aspen or Breckenridge.

  Out went the small-town charm and in came the higher crime rate.

  Bozeman was getting to be as bad as a fucking big city. Drugs. Murder. We were even seeing a stronger gang influence.

  “Whoa. What the hell?”

  I was snapped out of my thoughts as Terrell’s head whipped to the side. An orange Chevy Blazer streaked past us, speeding in the opposite direction.

  In a split second, Terrell had the siren blaring and lights flashing and was flipping a tire-screeching U-turn. His foot dug into the gas pedal as the cruiser’s engine revved. We caught the Blazer in no time, following it over to the shoulder.

  “You take the lead,” I told Terrell as I unbuckled.

  He nodded and we both got out of the cruiser. Approaching with caution, always at the ready like we’d both been taught, Terrell came up on the driver’s side window while I took the opposite.

  “Evening,” Terrell greeted the driver. “License, registration and proof of insurance, please?”

  I bent low to look through the open passenger window. The driver, a young college kid, was fumbling in his wallet. His shaking fingers had to try three times to get his license out of the plastic slot. “Here you go.” His voice was as rattled as his fingers as he handed the card to Terrell.

  “Do you know why I pulled you over,” Terrell looked to the card, “Quincy?”

  “I was, um, speeding?”

  Terrell nodded. “The speed limit here is forty.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  Come on, Quincy. Don’t play dumb. Why did the young ones always try and play dumb?

  Terrell frowned. “Go ahead and get me your registration and proof of insurance.”

  “Okay.” Quincy reached across the dash, his gaze skidding away from mine. With a pop, he opened the glove box and set off a paper explosion. Receipts. Candy wrappers. University parking tickets. It all came spilling out—including an ID that landed right on the seat by my window, faceup.

  My eyes narrowed at the Colorado ID. Quincy’s picture was next to the name Jason Chen
. I squinted and made out a birthdate. “Jason Chen” was twenty-seven.

  Fuck that. If this kid was twenty-seven, then I was in my damn forties.

  “Quincy, I think you’d better get out of the car,” I said. “And bring that other ID with you.”

  Ten minutes later, Quincy was shaking my hand and promising never to buy a fake ID again.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much, Officer.”

  I let his hand go. “Don’t do it again.”

  “I won’t.” He shook his head. “I promise. I won’t. It was stupid of me to get that fake ID in the first place.”

  “This is your once, Quincy.” I held up one finger to his nose. “Your one free pass and your one chance to learn from your mistake. Don’t take it for granted because you won’t get a twice.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  “Good.” I jerked my head to the Blazer. “Now get out of here.”

  He nodded and rushed back to the SUV, waving to Terrell and me as he pulled back onto the road.

  “Why’d you do it?” Terrell asked. “Why’d you let him off with a warning?”

  I shrugged. “Way back when, I had someone give me a once and it changed my life. I pay it forward when I can. Besides, that kid was harmless. We took his fake ID. We could have written him up, but I think we made a more lasting impression this way, don’t you?”

  “I sure do. That kid was about to piss himself.” Terrell nodded and started back to the cruiser. “A once. I like that.”

  I grinned, knowing Terrell would be stealing a term I’d stolen myself. “Just use them wisely.”

  Frozen in the doorway of The Maysen Jar, I watched as Poppy smiled and laughed with an elderly man sitting by the register.

  Damn, she was beautiful.

  It was hours later than I’d planned to be at the restaurant. Terrell had dropped me off at my truck after the Quincy incident and I’d come straight here, so anxious to see Poppy that I’d had a hard time obeying the speed limit myself.

  But I was here now and I couldn’t get past the damn door.