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“I was hoping you’d offer,” she said. “I want to make dinner for you, for all you’ve done for me.”
“You don’t have to do that, darlin’.” His hands clasped her hips and he eased her toward him so he could give her a long, deep kiss.
When she finally pulled away, her chest rose and fell quickly and she spoke in a breathless voice. “You curl my toes.”
Ryan grinned at her. “I can do better than that.”
He kissed her again, passionately, loving the feel of her soft lips and her tongue tangling with his. Having her body pressed against him as he slid his arms around her waist aroused him instantly.
They eventually came up for air, and Ryan said, “We should take this somewhere else.”
“Gladly,” she said. “Follow me.”
They pulled into her drive twenty-five minutes later and Ryan had her wait in the foyer again as he swept the house. This evening, he’d paid extra attention to the cars around them as they drove out to the lake. But there hadn’t been many people on the road, given that it was dinnertime. And no one had come out this far, except for the two of them.
“So, did you learn anything else from the sheriff?” she asked when he gave her the green light to enter her kitchen.
“Just that our perps are good at disappearing. They know when, where and how to lay low, it seems. Ditto on making their moves.”
Which had caused Ryan to want to continue his downtown patrol this evening, but the sheriff wanted to take over, apparently finding it a personal slight someone had committed a crime in his town—two was worse. He wasn’t going to let the robbers get away with the trouble they’d caused. Plus, he’d told Ryan that since there was no Mrs. Johnson waiting at home for him, he didn’t mind putting in the extra hours. He’d also let Ryan know he could log the time he spent watching out for Ginger, but Ryan had immediately declined the offer. Keeping an eye on Ginger while there were thieves afoot, who’d already attacked her once, was something he would’ve done whether he was a deputy or not.
“Maybe this time they really did leave town. A full tank of gas could get them out of our hair,” she said.
“Yeah, well, we’d prefer to nab them before they become someone else’s problem. They’re professional criminals. They’re also drinkers,” Ryan added as he pulled the cork on the bottle of Chardonnay she’d handed over before turning her attention to the refrigerator. “Max Lawton said they loaded up on beer and whisky, along with other groceries and necessities, the latter being the reason the sheriff hoped to find them in one of the campgrounds in the area.”
“The one who tackled me reeked of alcohol,” she confirmed. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“They might be particularly dangerous because of impaired judgment and an overinflated sense of power and agility. Or they could slip up for the same reasons.”
“Huh. That makes sense.”
“We’re hoping the scale tips in our favor.”
She laid out several ingredients on the island he sat at and asked, “Do you eat fish?”
“I’m good with it.”
“Try to curb your enthusiasm,” she said with a laugh.
“I’ve always been more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but I’m game for anything. Just don’t go to too much trouble for me, sweetheart.”
Setting a glass bowl on the counter, she told him, “I can throw together a spectacular lobster-and-crab stuffed Swai in just a few minutes. All I need to do is whip up the stuffing, roll the filets into pinwheels and drop ’em on the grill. Piece of cake.”
He grinned at her. She was so natural to be with. Despite the obvious tension their relationship created amongst his family and some of the townsfolk, and the fact he’d eventually have to break it to her that the sheriff wanted him armed with more than the baton, he thought they were incredible together. Suspected she did too, though they were both cognizant of the challenges they faced.
Lifting his wine glass to hers, they touched the rims and then sipped. He thought of how easily he could get used to this, how much he’d enjoy spending every evening with her. It had nothing to do with her cooking for him or cleaning up after him—he’d been a neat and tidy bachelor since he was eighteen. Rather, he liked being here with Ginger because he found her fascinating and completely irresistible.
Setting his glass aside, Ryan asked, “What can I do?”
“Would you mind starting the risotto? It’s the packaged variety, so it’s a breeze to make. But it takes about twenty minutes.”
“I’m on it.”
She pointed out the pantry and then he selected a heavy skillet from the rack hanging over the large, stainless steel stove. He lit the burner and followed the directions on the box until the parmesan-flavored rice boiled. Turning down the heat, he stirred occasionally as the risotto reduced to a simmer. Then he went back to the kitchen island and watched her roll the Swai into fat circles, with layers of the stuffing inside.
“How about I light the grill for you?”
With a sassy smirk, she said, “Sure. Just push the button in the middle.”
