Page 5 of Arrested By the Deputy

She turns back to me, her eyebrows raised. "I firmly believe it's good for anyone to have, regardless of their gender."

I hold my hands up. "You've got me there. Even though Whispering Pines is usually pretty quiet, it seems as if crime is increasing every where these days. All of us should be a little more attentive when it comes to our surroundings."

"So where exactly are you taking me, Officer Sutton? You never really said when we texted last night."

I purposely kept where I want to take her to myself, because I wasn't sure if she'd want to stay in town or not. "Thought we'd go to The Pizzeria if that's okay with you?"

"I love their food, and don't get to eat it enough because I usually have to go to sleep so early to open the bakery. We're closed tomorrow, so I can stay up late tonight if I want to."

I get exactly what she's saying. "Typically I do things late, but it's only because I work the overnights. During the evenings when everyone else is doing something, I'm working. They gave me the next few nights off, though. So I'm excited. But I get it. Having weird work hours really affects everything about your life."

"That it does."

Even though I'm trying to keep my cool, I need to tell her how hot she looks. "You look amazing."

She glances down at her bare legs. Cut-off shorts hug her hips and thighs, a t-shirt hugs her torso, showing off how stacked she is. A pair of Converse encase her feet, and her long blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail atop her head. There are tendrils hanging down, and I want to reach out and tuck them behind her ears, but I'm not sure that's appropriate right now.

"Thank you," she says, and there's a blush working up her neck that I like way more than I should. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Officer."

"Off duty tonight. I’m just Cal, the same as I was in high school."

"Just Cal," she repeats, like she's testing it out. "I think I can work with that."

I offer my arm, feeling a little ridiculous, but she takes it without hesitation, and we walk down the steps together. My truck's parked at the curb, and I open her door before she can reach for the handle herself. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"What? I can't be a gentleman?"

"Didn't say you couldn't. Just wasn't expecting it from the man who put me in cuffs less than twenty-four hours ago."

I groan, dipping my knees. There’s no way I’m ever going to live this down. "Low blow, Monroe."

"Fair's fair, Sutton."

The drive to The Pizzeria only takes about ten minutes, but it's long enough for the radio to fill the silence and for me to notice the way she hums along under her breath without realizing she's doing it. I don't say anything about it. I just enjoy it, and join in when I feel like I know the words enough.

The Pizzeria sits on the corner of Main and Oak, red awning faded from years of sun, the same checkered tablecloths they've had since I was a kid sneaking in with birthday money. Sandra, who's run the front of house since before I was born, greets us atthe door with a look that tells me she already knows exactly why we’re here.

"Well, look at this," she says, grabbing two menus. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Sandra," I say, low, hoping she'll let it go.

She doesn't. "I'm just saying. Whole town's talking about you two." She winks at Hazel like they're in on something together, then leads us to a booth in the back corner, away from the front windows. I could kiss her for that. It’s a small thing, but I’m so grateful.

We settle in, and Hazel picks up the menu even though I'd bet money she's ordered the same thing here a hundred times. "Do you have something you like to order from here?"

I don’t even have to think about it. I answer quickly. "Gotta be pepperoni and mushroom. Every single time. What about you?"

"Same, actually. But add extra cheese."

"Of course you'd say extra cheese."

"Don't judge me, I run a bakery. Sugar's basically my love language, but cheese comes in a close second."

The waitress comes by, and I order for us both without really thinking about it, then catch myself and glance at Hazel to see if that bothered her. It doesn't look like it did. If anything, there's something in her expression that makes my chest feel tight. It occurs to me that maybe she makes all the decisions in her life because she’s single and a business owner. Maybe she has decision fatigue, and she appreciated me doing that for her.

"So," she says, once the waitress walks off. "Tell me something. Why law enforcement? You could've stayed in construction. That’s a steady paycheck, no one calling you names on the internet."

I turn my glass in a slow circle on the table, thinking about how honest I want to be. "Guess I wanted to be the kindof person who shows up when somebody's in trouble. Nobody showed up for us much, growing up. I used to think if I ever had the chance to be that person for somebody else, I'd take it."