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“Is this little number part of a new dress code?”
She stepped back, forcing more space between them.
“It’s chilly in this old warehouse, and I’m not on shift yet,” she said, but didn’t offer up any more smack talk.
Did she feel the same jolt of energy between them? He moved closer to see how she’d react.
“You can expect me to put just as much effort into this assignment as I always do at anything else, 110 percent.”
Her eyes twinkled as they met his and squinted before a smile spread on her face, and he had an inkling that he may have stepped into a trap. This time he took a step back. He’d been planning to do as little as possible when his boss told him to help out on a fundraiser, and now he was pledging to give her any help she needed.
“Wonderful. Congrats on your promotion, no doubt well earned, although you have to admit the timing is a bit funny. Out-of-cycle promotion just in time to assign you to handle the fundraisers and gala. It’s almost as if they needed to bribe someone to do it, but I’m pleased to know this rumpled version of you is an anomaly.”
“I will endeavor to look more pleasing in the future, Ms. Paletti.”
Clearing her throat, she turned toward her huge bag, which looked more like a piece of luggage than a purse.
“Call me Hannah or Sergeant. We have ranks too.”
“Hannah,” he said, letting her name roll off his tongue.
“Since you’re clearly so motivated to be helpful, my first request is you convince another officer to replace you as the representative.”
“No can do. My captain was clear that I needed to handle this as my first supervisory task.”
She let out a big exhale. “Fine. I’ll just have to make it work. But I have to warn you. This is going to be a lot of labor. We’re not skating by with a few lame fundraisers this year. We need to raise at least $200,000 for the new community center.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a plan for a new community center.”
“Well, there is.”
He watched as she pulled out several items from her bag like a magician’s hat, but he could swear her hand trembled. It was clear she did feel the current that always existed between them—but he suspected she was also nervous.
Neither of them had ever acknowledged it to each other, but there was always a connection between them. Like storm clouds growing as they turned dark and heavy, ready to burst.
He’d been best friends with Hannah’s oldest brother growing up, and every summer she tried to keep up with them. But they were four years older and easily dodged her pre-teen angst. Then years later, in his senior year of college, she’d arrived all grown up at the same state school for her freshman year. And it was like he’d been hit upside the head when he’d seen her womanly curves in short shorts and a skimpy tank top showing off her flat midriff. They’d spent a lot of time together that year, until he had a falling out with her brother.
Maybe that was why being close to her now was like stumbling onto a place that felt like home.
“I’ve sketched out a few ideas for several fundraisers as a starting point. This year, instead of just one event, we’ll use several smaller events to get the entire community involved and raise more money. Think family picnics and end of summer vibes. We can do the annual car wash at the firehouse, kids and cops where you all let them hit the sirens, but add some face painting and raffles. Then the big finale will be the gala, and that is where the real fundraising happens.”
“I take it you plan to host the events here at the old warehouse?” Conner moved closer to where she’d set out her notebook with a list of summer themes. There were pages of colorful sketches with the space designed and decorated. Clearly, she was hoarding colored pencils and putting them to good use.
“These are very good. What is it you do again?” he asked.
“I’m a paramedic, as you well know, Conner Maguire. I’ve had to patch up several of the officers in your unit.”
Hearing his name on her lips caused his pulse to speed up.
“Lucky them. I’ll have to remember that next time I’m faced with a violent perp.”
She narrowed her eyes while her hand moved up to rest on her hip again, as if the attitude she projected would shame him.
“A paramedic with a penchant for design?” He met her eyes.
“It’s a hobby,” she said, trying to pull her sketch pad away.
“A hobby is knitting socks while binge-watching the latest season of a historical romance on TV. This is a full-on talent. You should have your own design company and be planning all sorts of events.”
