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Savannah found herself warming to this man, and she wasn't at all sure that was wise. Not good, she cautioned. Hadn't she just run away from a marriage with a man she had adored? Hadn't that same man lied to her forever? No, she couldn't start trusting a complete stranger, even if he was the Sheriff.
Now that he put the badge away, he didn't seem much of a threat to her. Unless she counted the way his smiles affected her heartbeat. Never had any man influenced her heartbeats. Not even Chad. But that was crazy. He was just a big friendly Sheriff that was taking care of her and making sure she did no mischief to his quiet little town. She wouldn't be forgetting those handcuffs either.
His sister's clothes felt soft and comfortable on her, even though they were miles too long for her. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of person she might be.
His home was so old fashioned and clean too. The man was a complete surprise, from handcuffs to flowers, he puzzled her. She didn't want to be puzzled, or interested, but he was so different from the men she knew, he intrigued her.
The hound dog at his feet moved with him almost simultaneously. She sensed a loyalty that she envied.
"He's a nice looking hound," she commented, watching as he occasionally extended his hand to the top of the dog's head, and scratched him behind the ears. The dog whined and settled down beside him.
"You like dogs?" The dog was licking his fingers and both man and dog were completely tuned in to one another.
"I don't know, I've never had one," she said eyeing the dog's complete affection for his owner.
"Never had a dog, you've led a sheltered life, haven't you? You've never done dishes, never had a dog?" he teased.
The easy bantering went on until they finished dinner. He started stacking the dishes and she looked totally lost. She made a mental note that this would be a new experience. How hard could it be? Not that she was too good to do dishes, but she just hadn't been in a position to have to do them. She'd had a maid all her life, and couldn't imagine doing such mundane chores before today. Of course trying to fix a flat wasn't her forte either, she silently admitted. She'd made a royal mess of that. Since she'd started this adventure, she'd been doing a lot of things that didn't come natural to her. The thought was novel. A real homemaker should know how to do dishes, even though most people had dishwashers these days. She glanced around the kitchen and realized it was quite rustic compared to the modern kitchen in her parents house.
"So what do I do?" she asked timidly as he filled one of the sinks with soap and water.
He couldn't stop the smirk, but he gentled his patience. "There's a cup towel in that drawer by you. Get it, and dry the dishes as I wash."
She took the cup towel out of the drawer and waited for the first dish. She had to ask where each dish went, but he didn't seem to mind telling her.
Her mother would be horrified seeing her daughter doing such a menial chore. They had often discussed getting a maid for her once she and Chad were married. Living with Chad it would have been commonplace to have a maid.
But with that done, she was at a loss for what to do next. She watched him let the water out of the sink and turned about to face him.
"Why don't you take me to my car now and I won't bother you any further," she insisted.
He smiled, taking the dishrag from her and shook his head. "Wouldn't do any good. You can't fix your car, and although I could fix the flat, I couldn't supply a water hose or radiator. And...you don't have a license. So you might as well face it, you are stuck here for the night. Don't worry about your car though; I've already radioed the highway patrol. So relax. It'd help if I knew the make and model."
"Oh, it's a BMW, 2009."
"That ought to get some attention around here. We don't have many of those break down."
But she wasn't thinking about her car, she was worried about staying the night with the handsome Sheriff.
Those words rang in her head like some gong. Stuck with Mr. Handsome for a whole night, alone, in his house, and the highway patrol might ring his doorbell any moment telling him to put the cuffs back on.
"But I hate to impose ..."
His gaze encompassed her like some snare and the mutual attraction seemed to shoot off the walls at them, making them both aware of the situation. Heat rose inside her so quickly she felt her face flush.
"You can have the bedroom behind the kitchen. It's the one Mrs. Johnson uses occasionally when it's bad weather or she doesn't feel like driving back to town. Don't worry I'm not in the habit of molesting women who stay here."
"Do many women stay here?" she asked in an almost whisper.
"No," his voice sounded soft, almost like a whisper too.
"I didn't think so," she muttered miserably to herself, unable to define her own misery.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, nothing at all, Sheriff. Can you show me to my room so I can rest, I'm exhausted," she said without glancing at him again.
"As soon as we finish the dishes, sure…"
