Saved by the Cowboy
Page 6
Just a couple hours ago he’d received a call from The Night Owl, Oak Bluff’s one and only tavern, that Walker Everett was drunk and disorderly again. Hell, Cash knew the Everett brothers had a messy past to contend with, but Walker—the youngest of the three—had been contending worse and worse these days. Nora, owner of The Night Owl, tried her best to deal with Walker on her own, but sometimes things got out of hand. It had just been one of those nights.
Actually, it had been a day—or two—to say the least. Now, at mere minutes past midnight and the end of his shift, all he wanted to do was collapse into bed, Dixie at his feet. But something felt off.
He’d already let the dog out, so that wasn’t it. He’d tossed his uniform into the washer and locked his gun in the safe. Everything was as it should be.
He scratched the back of his head and stared down at his phone charging on the nightstand. The screen lit up with an incoming text. The sender? Cinderella, the name he’d programmed into his contact list for Olivia Belle.
Cinderella: Hope the residents of Oak Bluff obeyed the law better than I did. ;)
Cash laughed out loud. Then, even though he stood on the cold floor in nothing but his boxer briefs, that inexplicable warmth spread through him.
He sat on the side of the bed, picked up the phone, and unlocked the screen.
Cash: Isn’t it past your bedtime?
Cinderella: Nah. I like to wait till everyone’s sleeping before I try breaking and entering.
He chuckled.
Cash: But I’m the sheriff, and I’m still up. Might be a flaw in your logic.
Cinderella: Wasn’t counting on you being awake. Figured you’d crash as soon as your shift ended, but I’m glad you didn’t.
He leaned back against the headboard, and Dixie gave him a knowing look. That was when he realized he was wearing a dopey grin on his face, and he rolled his eyes at himself. He was damn glad Olivia Belle was still awake, too.
Cash: Been thinking about me, huh?
Because he understood, now, the reason something felt off. Missing. As busy as he’d been, thoughts of Olivia had lingered in the back of his mind these past two days. While he’d been saving a cat, what had she been doing? When Walker Everett needed a police escort home—and Cash to be a friend and sneak him into the house without waking Jack, Ava, or their son Owen—where had Olivia been?
Cinderella: A lot, sorta. Is that bad?
Cash: Not at all. Been thinking about you too. You enjoying our little town?
Cinderella: YES! I love that even though you let me have my car back, I can walk anywhere I want to go. Been to the bakery, to that little craft shop where some of Ava Ellis’s paintings are. She’s really good, btw. And tonight I cooked dinner at the B and B with the other guests. It was so fun! And we made sangria. I had a glass. Or maybe two. Delish!
Cash laughed at her rambling. She texted like she spoke, but he liked it. He liked hearing about her day at the end of his.
“Huh,” he said aloud. That was a first—wanting to talk to someone other than Dixie before he went to bed.
Cinderella: Also I ignored texts from my mom, dad, grandmother, and Michael. Basically everyone in my real life. So that was fun. Also I might be buzzed.
Cash’s small bubble of whatever he was feeling deflated just a little at the sound of that name. Michael. The guy who wanted to marry her.
Cash: Don’t you think you should maybe deal with all that?
He regretted hitting send as soon as he did. He was nothing more than a pit stop on her way to who knows where. Who was he to tell her when she should deal with her life?
He watched those three dots hovering where Olivia’s next text would appear, his chest tightening as he did.
Cinderella: They all think they know what’s best for me. But right now real life isn’t best. I want to live in the fairy tale a little longer…with my fairy tale straight and narrow lawman. Is that okay? ;)
He blew out a breath. Yeah, he’d say that was pretty okay. After all, wasn’t he living in a fantasy, too? In a few days, they’d be strangers again—she back to her life and he back to his.
Cash: It’s okay.
He thought the response maybe merited some sort of emoji to let her know he wasn’t going to pry into her life any further, but Cash Hawkins had never used an emoji in his life. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
Cinderella: Good. I’m kinda sleepy.
Cash: Sangria? Or because it’s past midnight.
Cinderella: Both, I think. But I just wanted to say hi. So…hi.
Cash: Hi.
Cinderella: Now I should probs say good-night. Good-night, Sheriff.
Cash: Good night, Cinderella. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Cinderella: You think you might kiss me again?
He chuckled.
Cash: I think I just might.
He waited a few minutes, but there was no response. She’d probably fallen asleep. As tired as he was—make that exhausted—he lay in bed, eyes wide open, for a while after that. She’d thought about him…and he her. Correction. He was still thinking about her right now.
Dixie let out a long sigh, then nudged his foot with her nose.
“I know, girl. I think we’re in trouble, too.”
Chapter Nine
Olivia stood in front of the mirror and twisted back and forth. She loved the rich blue color of the dress, the off-the-shoulder style and bell sleeves. But what really topped off the look were the black suede ankle boots.
“You look fantastic.”
Olivia startled, then spun to find a familiar-looking blond woman standing just inside the door of the small clothing boutique.
“Lily,” she said. “Lily Green? We met at the Everett ranch. I was feeding cake to Luke Everett.” She winced as she said Luke’s name.
“Oh!” Olivia said. “The brother who got thrown off the bull. And you’re catering…”
“My ex-husband’s wedding. Yep. That’s me.”
Yeah. Olivia remembered. She also remembered the tension in that kitchen between Luke and Lily that seemed to have nothing to do with her ex’s wedding. “Right.” She let out a nervous laugh and then glanced down at the dress. “It’s not too much?” she asked.
Lily shook her head. “Why would it be too much?”
Olivia’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t look like I’m trying to look all cowgirl to impress a sometimes cowboy?”
Lily shrugged. “You look like a woman who’s going to blow Sheriff Hawkins’s mind when he picks you up tonight.” She gasped and threw a hand over her mouth. “Was I not supposed to know about the date?”
Olivia laughed. “How many people live in this town?”
Lily was laughing now, too. “Yeah, okay. The whole town knows about the date. Cash hasn’t gone on one—at least not around here—in a long time. We’re all kinda rooting for him.”
Olivia’s heart sped up, but then she remembered waking this morning to a text from Michael asking if she’d reconsidered his proposal and a text from her mother asking if she was crazy passing up a guy who could give her so much more than her dad ever gave to her. This afternoon her dad had actually called, and she’d let it go to voicemail just so she wouldn’t have to listen to him asking when she was going to grow up and come home to face her problems.
Reality.
“I’m just here for the week,” she insisted. “So whatever this is with me and Cash, it’s temporary.”
Lily nodded with a knowing grin. “Mmm-hmm. That’s why you’re buying a new dress for a first date with a guy you don’t plan on seeing again.”
Olivia’s mouth fell open, but she had no comeback.
“He’s a good guy,” Lily said. “If you can get past that gruff exterior, there’s a real sweetheart underneath.”
Olivia blew out a breath. She’d seen that sweetheart already, not that Cash would admit it. “What about you and the cake-eating rodeo star?” she asked Lily, trying to get the attention off her and Cash.
“You know what they say about love and hate,” Olivia said. “It’s a very thin line.”
Lily’s cheeks grew pink, and Olivia wondered if they’d already crossed that thin line.
“Do all the Everett brothers look like that?” she asked.
Lily rolled her eyes but nodded. “It’s really not fair. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, all that cowboy-rancher swagger with a sun-kissed California vibe. They’re like a pack of horseback-riding Hemsworths. Though I’m guessing you prefer the dark-haired brooding type.”
Olivia laughed. What she preferred was not worrying about the future because the What comes next? was the part that terrified her. All she knew was that kissing Cash Hawkins was as easy as breathing because he had no expectations of her beyond the present. She didn’t know how to be anything other than who she was—a runner. That was why she’d run here, to the town where Gran and Pop fell in love through the words written on the page. But for these next few days with Cash, she could just be herself. With him. Until their time ran out.
“Something like that,” was all she said.
“Well, I should go.” Lily started backing toward the door. “I was just walking by and saw you. I hope it’s okay I stopped in to say hello.”
“I’m glad you did. I was a little on the fence about the dress, but now my mind’s made up.” Olivia yanked the tag that was hanging from her sleeve and walked it over to the small checkout counter where the owner was helping another customer. “I’ll take it all,” she whispered.
“Good choice,” Lily said and then waved. “I have a good feeling about you, Olivia.”
And then she was out the door.
After a hefty but worthwhile dent on her debit card, Olivia soon was, too.
She checked her phone once she got back to the bed-and-breakfast. She had exactly thirty minutes before Cash was supposed to pick her up, so she decided to head down to the common room and see who was around.
Everyone was around because Wednesday nights were apparently game night, and just about all the guests plus the owners, Rose and Marcus, were seated around the long wooden table setting up Trivial Pursuit.
Olivia bounced on her suede-booted toes and clapped. “I love this game!”
“Come join us!” Marcus said. “We’re just getting started.”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth but then grinned. “Okay, maybe just a couple rounds. I—I sort of have plans.”
Rose raised a brow. “You mean with the sheriff.”
Enthusiastic mumbling broke out among the guests, and Olivia groaned.
“How does everyone know?” she asked.
“I saw him at the market this morning in the produce section,” Marcus told her. “Cash never shops for fresh produce. I knew he had to be doing something special for someone special.”
“And I bumped into Carol from the boutique at the bank who said something about Lily Green and a new customer talking about the sheriff,” Rose said. Then she looked Olivia up and down. “New outfit?”
Olivia blushed so hard she thought her face would actually catch fire. “I guess there’s no point in my answering any of your questions since you seem to know everything already. So there’s only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that?” Marcus asked.
“Kick all your butts in Trivial Pursuit.” She sat down at an empty spot on the bench seat, her chin held high. Then she glanced at her opponents, who all seemed to be sitting in pairs. Couples, to be exact. “That’s okay,” she said in response to her own thoughts and most likely what everyone else was thinking. “I can hold my own against teams.”
A throat cleared in the open archway of the common room.
A man’s throat. And hell if Olivia couldn’t recognize said man just by that sound. Still, she spun slowly to find Cash Hawkins standing behind her.
“I’ve played on a team or two,” he said.
Rose waved him off. “High school football doesn’t count,” she teased.
Cash slid into the empty seat beside Olivia, barely giving her time to take in his plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled to reveal his muscular forearms. His dark jeans hugged his hips and—well, speaking of butts. Cash Hawkins was a sight to behold. And she was enjoying a long moment of beholding.
Olivia swallowed. “I was running early.”
He leaned in close—even with the whole table watching—and whispered in her ear. “So was I.”
His breath tickled her skin, and he smelled—mmm—she had to fight to keep from sighing.
“Rosemary,” she said out loud. “And mint.”
“Should we get started?” Rose asked, reminding Olivia that she and Cash were not alone, and oh how she wished they were now.
“Do we still have time?” Olivia asked Cash, hoping he’d tell her they were in some rush to make a reservation. Then her brows drew together as her eyes dipped from his to three small but fresh cuts on his neck. “What happened to you?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Mrs. Middleton’s cat. Twice.”
Her concern morphed into a giggle. “Please tell me you actually saved a cat from a tree. Twice. That really happens?”
Cash nodded and she noticed a slight tinge of pink spreading over his cheeks. Somehow him blushing made her blush, and she was sure everyone could see. Her heart raced even though she was sitting still, and as much as she’d been looking forward to tonight, something as simple as a first date suddenly felt—dangerous. She’d thought her time in Oak Bluff would be a welcome diversion from the mess that waited for her in San Francisco. But physiological reactions like this were not in her repertoire. Cash Hawkins did more than divert her attention. He captivated it.
The sheriff pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text. To whom she had no idea.
Then Rose handed him the dice, and he rolled. “You’re in Oak Bluff now, Ms. Belle,” he said. “We’ve got all the time in the world around here.”
A whole ninety minutes later Cash held the door and Olivia exited the bed-and-breakfast out onto the pavement.
“I can’t believe you knew that Denmark had the oldest flag design,” she said, walking backward so they could continue their conversation.
He raised his brows. “Hey. You got us the sports and leisure piece by being able to name what teams all those NFL coaches coached. Impressive,” he said.
She shrugged. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”
He laughed. “No, because they’re not current. You’d have had to be a young kid when they were all in their prime.”
Her smile faded. “My dad’s a huge football fan. Sunday afternoons and Monday nights used to be our thing—until he and my mom started arguing louder than the flat screen with surround sound. Kinda lost my love of football after that.” They got to the corner, and she finally turned to face the street they were about to cross. “You were good?” she asked. “In high school?”
He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as they continued to the other side of the street. “Mighta been able to play in college. But I blew out my knee the week Dad went into hospice.”
Her throat tightened. She pulled one of his hands free and laced her fingers through his, giving him a gentle squeeze.
“I’m pretty much the worst, aren’t I?” she said.
He tugged her across the street perpendicular to the one they’d just crossed, only answering her when they were on the sidewalk again. “How do you mean?”
“I’ve been complaining about my parents and their messy divorce pretty much since you met me. And as much as they both drive me to drink—heavily—I can still say that word. Both. Because they’re both still here, and you’ve lost—”
“Hey,” he said, pulling her close. Then he glanced up and down the street, from shop window to window.
“You worried about who’s
watching us?” she asked, knowing that just about the whole town probably was.
“I’m not worried about a damned thing,” he said. “Especially you thinking your pain is anything less compared to mine. It’s not a competition. We all have our baggage—our pasts that shape us. It’s what we do with all that shaping that matters.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re talking about me, aren’t you? How I run from my baggage?”
He chuckled. “Or how I keep mine sealed up in a really fancy envelope.”
She looked over her shoulder, only then realizing where they were standing.
“Sheriff?”
“Ms. Belle?”
“Am I under arrest?”
“You break any laws today?” he asked.
She pretended she was counting her fictional offenses on her fingers. “Nope,” she finally said. “Unless you count the liquor store I robbed before breakfast.”
He shook his head and chuckled again. “Well, I guess I’m harboring a known criminal. We better get you inside before the rest of the town is onto us.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the department’s front door. But once inside, instead of continuing straight into the office, he veered left, to a staircase she hadn’t noticed the last time she was here. When she was under arrest.
She followed him up the stairs and to a sparse hallway that had one door at the far end.
He opened that one door and ushered her inside. There she found a small apartment, modestly decorated and furnished, with a German shepherd curled on a doggie bed on the floor next to a bookcase. Dixie.
But it wasn’t the sweet, non–attack dog who didn’t even stir when they entered that caught Olivia’s attention. It was the round wooden table set for two, a bottle of red waiting to be uncorked, and the smell of something absolutely delicious.
“You—cooked for me?”