Page 32 of The Worst Possible Plan

The sheriff finally pointed toward the pizza truck. “Tony. If you move six feet instead of twelve… she can swing back another six.” He gestured toward the lobster truck. “Your electrical cable still reaches. The dessert truck backs into this space.” He pointed toward the empty corner. “You leave the emergency lane open.” He glanced at both of them. “Everybody passes inspection.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded obvious.

Tony scratched his beard. “That actually works.”

Seriously? Didn’t I say this already? But because now the sheriff says it, it’s better?

“It does,” answered the sheriff, like he hadn’t just untied a knot that had been strangling everyone for nearly an hour.

I stared. Forty-five seconds. That was all it had taken him to repeat my suggestion and somehow come out looking like the hero. I hated people who could do that. Correction. I hated how ridiculously attractive I found people who could do that. There was an important difference.

Tony sighed. “Fine.”

The blonde nodded. “Fine.” She didn’t even sound annoyed anymore. Somehow, he’d managed to make two people who’d been arguing five minutes ago voluntarily agree with each other. Was that a sheriff thing? Did they teach that at the academy? Conflict Resolution Through Excessive Calm?

The dessert truck driver leaned out her window. “So… where do you want me?”

The sheriff looked at me. “You’re the event planner,” he said, his eyes searching my face. “You tell her.”

My stomach performed an unexpected somersault. I looked around. “Uh…” I pointed toward the empty corner the sheriff had indicated. “There.” My finger remained confidently extended for a full second.

The dessert truck driver smiled. “Perfect.” She started the engine.

I leaned a little closer to the sheriff, taking in his musky aftershave and liking it, and lowered my voice. “That was the spot you were pointing at. Wasn’t it?”

He looked down at me. “It was.”

“I knew that.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“I absolutely didn’t.”

“I know.”

I cocked a brow. “I was hoping you didn’t.” Mostly because I’d been trying very hard to maintain the illusion that I knew what the hell I was doing.

“I figured.”

I looked up at him. “Is it really that obvious?” I almost didn’t want to know the answer. Almost.

He was quiet for a second. Then one corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Only to me.”

For reasons I couldn’t begin to explain, that somehow made me feel better. Which probably should’ve worried me a whole lot more than it did.

I couldn’t shake the strange feeling that Captain Competent wasn’t looking at me the way he had yesterday.

And somehow…

I wasn’t sure which of us that should worry more.

8

ERIC

The first thing I learned as a sheriff was simple.

People usually already knew the answer.

They just needed someone to ask the right question.