“I did get five cookbooks, so I don’t think I’ll need to return for a while.”
“Not for cookbooks, but maybe there could be other reasons?”
Just as Dylan was about to send the guy a look to back off, Jennifer added, “I think there might be. Your mother makes a mean pot of tea and then there’s Harvard and the fact that I haven’t even started looking at the mysteries yet.”
Jack grinned. “Good to hear.”
“Are you ready, Jen?” Dylan asked. “Traci’s in the truck and we’ve got to get back.”
“Yes, of course.” She picked up her bag and handed it to him. “Thanks again for everything, Camille.”
“Anytime, honey. Come back soon.”
Dylan held the door open for her.
“Hey,” Jack called out. “Do you want me to drop off your car to you tomorrow?”
Jennifer froze, giving Dylan the perfect excuse to intervene. “If you could drop it off at the station, that would be great,” he said as he handed the guy his card. “Just ask for me.”
“Thanks so much,” Jennifer said as she fished her car key out of her purse.
Glad that there was only a car key on the ring and not a house key, Dylan nodded at Jack again then ushered his sister out into the cold.
The snow was falling fast again. “Careful, now,” he murmured as Jennifer stepped onto the narrow walkway leading from the store’s front to the parking lot.
“I’ll be careful.”
Traci got out as they approached, opening the door to the back seat so Jennifer could slide right in. “I’ve got the heat blasting.”
“Thanks,” Jen said.
As they buckled up, he looked at Traci. “We good?”
“Good enough. Sergeant wants us back as soon as we can.”
He started up the engine and backed out. “Call in our progress, Traci.”
“On it.”
As he started down the unplowed road, he couldn’t help but glance at his sister. She was buckled in tight and looking out the window. She didn’t look worried or upset, though. No, she looked rather reflective, like she was thinking about something other than the roads.
“What’s going on with that guy, Jen?”
“Hmm?”
“You heard me,” he said after making a left turn and heading onto Columbia, the main street leading into Bridgeport. “Was he bothering you?”
Beside him, Traci coughed into her hand. When he glanced at her, she shrugged. “Sorry.”
“No, he wasn’t bothering me, Dylan,” Jennifer said. “You heard how nice he was.”
“Do you need me to check him out?” Of course, he was already planning on discovering everything there was to know about Jack Patterson, no matter what.
“I do not.”
“How come? Do you like him?”
“Do we really need to talk about this now?” she snipped.
He knew what she meant. Jennifer was determined to keep her past private. Usually he did his best to honor that. But sometimes—like now—he felt like all their tiptoeing around didn’t help her much at all. Instead, it just pushed her problems out of the way. “Traci doesn’t care. Do you?”
Traci, who had been typing something on her phone, looked up. “Don’t think it’s me you should be asking, buddy.”
Maybe not. But with the storm, there was no telling when he was going to get a moment to talk to Jennifer. Not for another twenty-four hours, easily. “Sorry. But Jen, you know I worry.”
“I’m fine. He wasn’t doing anything but being nice.”
“I just want you to be safe.”
“I was in the bookstore, Dylan. You can’t get much safer than that.”
“See, that’s something you need to worry about. There can be problems just about—”
“Dylan, I can’t believe you. You are actually having a problem with me liking someone when that has been the goal this whole time.”
“Wait, you like him?” He tapped too hard on the brakes and the vehicle slid.
“Watch it, buddy,” Traci said.
He quickly righted the steering wheel and got his head back on the road. “Sorry.”
Neither Traci nor Jennifer said anything in reply, which made him want to both stew and ask more questions. But when he glanced back at his sister and saw that she looked even more pensive than usual, he kept his silence.
Fifteen minutes later he pulled up in front of his house. “I’ll be right back, Trace.”
“Take your time.” Turning to look at Jennifer, she said, “Good to see you again.”
Jennifer gave Traci a wry smile. “You, too. Thanks for rescuing me.”
Dylan reached for Jennifer’s tote bag of books and then walked by her side. When he murmured, “Careful,” and reached for her elbow, she glared at him.
“Dylan, I’m not eight or even eighteen. You need to remember that.”
“What are you mad about? Me picking you up or this whole Jack thing?”
“I’m trying to decide. Right now it’s a toss-up.”
“The streets are bad, and you hardly even drove at all last year. I would have wanted to help anyone I care about. Even Shannon.”
Now, why had he mentioned her?
Jennifer smiled. “Even Shannon, huh? Now that sounds interesting. Why did you bring her up? Do you like her?”
He rolled his eyes. “I deserved that. And about this Jack guy. You know I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I know. But you need to learn to keep some of your opinions to yourself, Dylan. I may never see this guy again. I may never even want to. But for me to even think about it is a good thing. It’s taken me two years and two months, right?”
She was still counting the weeks, and he was acting like a jerk. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”
“I hope so.”
Practically feeling Traci’s impatience reverberating from his vehicle, he motioned to the door. “I’ve gotta go. Get on inside, okay?”
She nodded, pulled out her keys, and stepped inside, quickly disabling the alarm.
“Be safe, Dylan.”
“I’ll try. I’m sure I’ll be late. I’ll try to text you later so you won’t worry.”
She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks. Now, go—before Officer Lucky has a conniption.”
He grinned and trotted back to his truck.
“Everything okay?” Traci asked.
“Yeah.” As he backed out, he said, “I’m sorry to stick you in the middle of my drama.”
“Don’t worry. I get it. I find myself worrying about Shannon and Kimber all the time now, and I didn’t even know they existed a year ago. Love’s a powerful thing.”
There it was again. A Shannon mention. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he decided that it was a sign that he was supposed to find out.
CHAPTER 12
“Any kind of dancing is better than
no dancing at all.”
—Lynda Barr
The snow just kept coming. Standing at the bank of windows at the front of the studio, Shannon watched some kind of foreign sedan spin its wheels on the street in front of her building. The intersection that the car was attempting to climb was tricky on the best of days, since part of it was on a steep hill. No one in a rear-wheel-drive car had any chance of climbing it in weather like this.
The guy should have been driving a good old Chevy.
Kimber, who had been doing some yoga in one of Shannon’s empty classrooms, walked in beside her. “What’s got your panties in such a knot?”
“I’ve been watching this guy in that foreign job spinning its wheels and causing a mess.”
Kimber turned to watch. “That would be a sixty-thousand-dollar Mercedes, Miss Hick.”
Shannon shrugge
d. “Whatever. All I know is that it keeps sliding down the hill like it’s on Snowshoe Mountain.”
“Uh, Snowshoe?”
“That’s a ski resort in West Virginia.”
“And, you’ve been there?”
“Sure. Everyone back home goes.” Ignoring Kimber’s amused stare Shannon continued to watch the Mercedes’s efforts. Another minute later, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. It’s finally attempting to go into that parking lot on the right.”
“About time, too. He’s about to cause a bunch of accidents,” Kimber said. “You know what? I would say that the cops need to come out to direct traffic, but that might mean Traci the new girl.”
Shannon gulped. “I had forgotten that Traci’s probably directing traffic out there. I always just imagine her investigating burglaries or something.”
Pulling over two stools, Kimber hopped on one. “Come on, let’s sit down while we watch the show.” After Shannon hiked herself up—it really wasn’t fair that Kimber was so much taller than she was—Kimber smiled at her. “So, you reckon that our Traci’s out catching burglars, huh? Are you worried about the Bridgeport crime rate?”
“No. I mean, not really, Miss New York City. I just worry about Traci.”
“Even though I sounded snobby, I promise I was only teasing a little bit. To be honest, I never thought about Bridgeport being anything but a quiet little town.”
“I’m sure it’s real quiet compared to New York City.”
“Yes, but it’s not in my nature to worry too much. I guess I just always assume I’m going to be safe.”
That was kind of a surprise, given what Shannon knew about Kimber’s childhood. It was good enough, but she’d had her share of doubts and worries. Then there was the fact that Kimber was drop-dead gorgeous and often traveled to big cities all by herself. Shannon knew that she would be scared to death boarding a plane in New York City to Rome or Paris or wherever and then getting off and finding her way to her hotel.
“What are you thinking about now?”
“Oh, just that I’m such a small-town girl compared to you. I’m suspicious of foreign cars and I think Snowshoe is a fancy ski resort, while you’re used to traveling all around the world by yourself.”
“I was surprised you knew how to ski, Shannon. That’s where my look came from. I sure don’t know how. And I don’t think you’re all that much of a hick. I mean, you did all those dance competitions. I know you traveled for those.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t going to foreign countries. Mainly just places like Atlanta. Then, too, I was always with my mom or my dad and my teacher and friends.” Thinking about how oblivious she’d been to anything outside of her dances and her friends, she shook her head. “I was a pretty self-centered girl. I never thought much about anything ever going wrong.” Or how much her mother had given up in order for Shannon’s dreams to become a reality.
“That’s a good thing, girl.”
She shrugged. “Do you ever think of Traci? She doesn’t talk about much, but everything about her childhood sounds so tough. I feel guilty, and I didn’t even know about it.”
Kimber frowned slightly. “I feel guilty, too.” She crossed her legs, somehow looking elegant while perched on an old wooden stool. “But that’s how it goes, right?”
“What does?”
“Well, we’re sitting here feeling bad and guilty that she had a crappy childhood, even though we had nothing to do with it. Her parents, on the other hand, have probably never given her a second’s thought.”
Kimber didn’t lie. Shannon rarely thought about their birth mother now. Beyond thinking that she missed out getting to know them, she tried not to think about her. It hurt too much. “I’m never going to be like our mother.”
Kimber chuckled. “Of course you aren’t. Our mother had all three of us before she was twenty-six. You’re doing your own thing now.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure. Oh! Look at that. Now we’ve got ourselves a police officer to watch.” She whistled low. “And he looks fine even bundled up like that.”
Shannon turned to watch the cop in jeans, boots, and a thick police uniform jacket and hat. He was motioning a pair of cars to go up the hill. Then she realized that fine man was someone she knew. “That’s Dylan.”
Kimber’s smile widened. “Your studly student?”
“Stop.” She felt her cheeks redden. “Oh my gosh, Kimber, you have the stupidest expressions,” she said, hoping that her comment might take some of the focus off of her embarrassment.
But from the way Kimber was still grinning, it was evident that her sister wasn’t missing a single thing. “All to make you smile, sweetheart.”
“Mission accomplished, then.” Shannon smiled at her, then settled back in to watch Dylan direct traffic. She couldn’t help but admire him. Oh, not because of his looks, but because of the way he seemed to command every driver’s respect. And, well, he simply looked so assured. None of the drivers looked like they were even thinking about hesitating when Dylan told them to either stop or continue on.
Watching Dylan made her realize that she really hadn’t given enough thought to all of him. He wasn’t just a handsome guy who lost a bet in his fantasy football league and had a great smile. No, he was so much more—a police officer who constantly put his life on the line for other people.
As that sunk in, she began to feel more and more apprehensive as she watched him. What if a car didn’t slow down? What if someone slid into him and Dylan got hurt?
She even started worrying about him getting home. Just because he was a cop didn’t mean he was immune to folks like that Mercedes man sliding all over God’s green earth.
After another thirty minutes, Shannon knew she had to do something for him. Even if it was only something small—at least he would know that someone cared. Getting to her feet, she turned to Kimber. “You know what? It’s really cold out there. I’m going to go make a fresh pot of coffee and bring a cup out to him.”
Kimber’s eyes lit up, making Shannon realize that she might be trying to act all calm, cool, and collected, but she wasn’t fooling her sister one bit. “That’s a real fine idea. You know what? I’ll make it. I was going to get a snack anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yeah. You keep watch.”
She was gone before Shannon could even offer a token protest. When Dylan blew his whistle and yelled at somebody who was going too fast, her heart clenched. What if someone lost control of their car and hurt him?
It would be so awful.
And, she realized, it just might render her heartbroken. Not just because he was a good guy, but because she was starting to think of him as her good guy.
Uh-oh. What in the world was going on?
CHAPTER 13
“Hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, they danced by the light of the moon.”
—Edward Lear
Dylan was sure that she was going to get herself killed. There was Shannon, all dressed up in some kind of fuzzy oversized jacket, black leggings, furry boots, and bright pink gloves. Her brown hair was down and floating around her shoulders as she tromped towards him in the snow.
She looked exactly like she was—a pretty girl with great legs standing in absolutely the wrong place.
When he saw yet another driver stare at her instead of watching him or the intersection, Dylan felt his heart rise up into his throat.
“Shannon, go back inside!” he yelled.
She paused on the median she was carefully walking on. Then she held up a white paper cup. “I will. But I brought you coffee. It’s fresh!”
Of course it was. He was beginning to realize that Shannon was the type of woman to do everything as well as she possibly could. He couldn’t imagine her serving anyone stale, cold coffee. Maybe it was her West Virginia upbringing. Maybe it was just her.
Whatever the reason, he was toast. He didn’t think he was capable of hurting her feelings. “Wait a sec. I’ll come to you.”
Her eyes widened. “But—”
“No. Stay there.” Yes, he realized he was ordering her around, but he was doing his best to keep from telling her to go inside where she could be safe and warm.
She bit her lip and watched as a van with nearly bald tires slid into a right turn.
Please, Lord, don’t let the driver lose control.
After it made a successful right turn and disappeared out of sight, he walked over to Shannon. After scanning the roads, he relaxed slightly. Only a lone Subaru was nearby, and that driver was only going about ten miles an hour. It looked like the population was finally listening and getting off the roads.
“Thanks for this,” he said, taking a tentative sip. The hot liquid blazed a trail down his throat, showing him just how cold he’d been. And yes, it also was strong and tasted terrific. “It’s great.”
She smiled like he’d just given her a real compliment. “I wanted to do something for you. You’ve been out here for a while.”
After checking the progress of two plows about a hundred yards away, he smiled at her. “Want to tell me how you know how long I’ve been out here?”
“I might have been watching from my front window.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been watching me direct traffic?”
“Yep. It was my sister Kimber’s idea.”
“Oh. Of course.” He took another sip, draining the cup. “Thanks. This was real kind of you. I better get back to work.”
She looked disappointed. “Already? How much longer will you be out here?”
He shrugged. “Maybe another half hour, unless people start acting stupid and coming back out on the streets.”
“When you’re done, if you want, you could come over. I could heat up some soup or make you a grilled cheese.”
Even though they were standing out in the middle of an intersection and the snow was falling down around them, he grinned. “Grilled cheese, huh?”
She lifted her chin. “Everyone knows that nothing tastes better than a grilled cheese sandwich on a snowy day.”
Shall We Dance? Page 8
