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“Is everything okay?” she asks, her brows pulling together.
I know Ryan’s still behind me, so I need to choose my words carefully. “Oh, yes, I’m fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“Maybe we can talk later?” I whisper, hoping she catches my hint. Her eyes dart over my shoulder and then back to me, and I know she gets it.
“So, what can I get for you? It’s on the house.”
“Oh, thanks.” I smile, grateful. “I’ll have a coffee and one of your amazing bear claws. I’ve been dreaming of them for months now.”
Smiling, she pours me a coffee, and grabs a bear claw from the case. “To-go?”
“Yes, thanks. I’m meeting Ally at the cottage soon.”
“She didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I only decided yesterday. Ally said a big storm was coming in a few days, so I just packed up and came today.”
“You two have the impulse gene, don’t you?” She laughs. “She came here last year only a few days after being fired from her job.” My eyes dart to the side, and I shift on my feet.
“Yeah.” I smile weakly, taking the brown bag and cup from her. Adding a little cream and sugar to my coffee, I steel myself to face Ryan again. I’ve felt his eyes on me the entire time.
Turning, I find him sitting at a table near the door, his gaze on me, never wavering. My God, he’s sexy as hell. He exudes power and authority in his sheriff’s uniform as he sits with his legs apart and his arm resting on his thigh as he sips his coffee. My eyes take in all of him–from his boots, to his gun, to his badge. Everything makes me want him more. When I finally take in his face, I see that sexy little smirk playing on his lips again, and I want to kiss it away.
His short blonde hair is begging for me to touch it, and his clean-shaven face shows off his square jaw and high cheek bones. The longer I stare at his perfect face, the wider his smirk gets, until he’s full blown smiling at me, and I feel like I’m going to pass out. His straight white teeth graze his bottom lip and he rubs his jaw, making me wish those same teeth were grazing my neck as he pinned me against the wall.
Snapping my eyes up to his, I know he can see where my thoughts have gone again, and I grip the paper bag in my hand a little tighter. I hate how he has this power over me. I never let a man make me feel like I’m not in control of my body or my mind. But with Ryan, that’s not even an option.
Turning back to Courtney, I hold up my coffee and force a smile. “Thanks, Courtney. Me, you, and Ally should have a night at The Rusty Anchor while I’m here.” A low rumble from Ryan makes my forced smile morph into a real one. Does the idea of me going out upset the sheriff? Well, that’s just too damn bad.
“Yes! I haven’t had a good night out in such a long time.”
“Good. See you.”
“Bye, Ash.”
Avoiding looking at Ryan again, I walk out of the café with my head held high. I refuse to let that man affect me any more than he already has. I refuse to go back home again with more memories that I can’t get out of my head.
Thinking about it now sends flashes of him pushing me against a tree, his hot breath against my neck, kissing his way up to whisper sweet, dirty things, in my ear.
Shaking my head, I push the memory back down and get in my car. I need to get a grip on where my thoughts keep going.
The drive to Dottie’s is just as I remember, with pine tree lined roads, except this time, everything is covered in snow. It’s beautiful. I’ve always loved the winter and snow. It’s a fresh, white, sparkled blanket that provides a clean slate on the world around you.
Glancing in my rearview mirror, I see an SUV not too far behind me. And as if the driver can sense that I’m looking at them, blue lights start flashing at me.
Are you fucking kidding me right now?
Sighing, I roll my eyes and pull over. Is he serious? Did he really follow me so he could pull me over? Is he on some sort of power trip?
Parking, I turn my car off, and watch in my mirror as Ryan gets out of the SUV cruiser and places his sheriff’s hat on his head. Damn it, even that stupid hat looks hot on him.
Slowly walking towards my driver’s side window, I eat up every inch of his 6’3” frame with every step he takes.
When he reaches my window, he taps gently, and I roll it down, waiting for him to say something first. I refuse to give in to his authority that he thinks he can just throw around. I’m just a game to him–something he thinks he can win or play around with.
“Do you know how fast you were going Ms. Ames?” Ryan’s silky voice floats into my car, and my pulse starts racing from that alone.
