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“Try me,” Paisley muttered under her breath, causing me to smile slightly, despite my best efforts to hold it back.
And though there hadn’t been the need for a description when I’d gotten flagged down by Lincoln, when it came to Paisley, I couldn’t help but mess with her from time to time just to watch her eyes light up with fury.
Was it wrong of me? Probably. Did it feel a little like poking a bear or pulling on a girl’s pigtails because you liked her? Sure.
But that never stopped me.
Paisley’s mouth dropped open, and I fought back a grin as I looked her up and down. “Well, you mostly match the description, but I’d say those heels make you more like five-foot-three.”
Her cheeks pinked a little under my gaze, but then she seemed to shake it off, letting out a curt laugh. “No one needs to give descriptions in this town, and you darn well know it. Not when everyone in here knows everyone else by name, address, and probably how they like their eggs.”
“True. I knew it was you before I came in here, and that’s because it’s no secret what you’re doin’ around here, and the people are hopin’ a little run-in with PD might put a stop to it.”
“What exactly am I doin’ other than helpin’ our local businesses?”
“Causin’ a disturbance, apparently.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not causin’ a disturbance, Officer Wilson. I’m tryin’ to get Gilly to see that the Mason Jar’s current system isn’t workin’.”
“And we’re politely thankin’ Miss Paisley for her help, but her talents are wasted tryna fix stuff that ain’t broken,” Gilly chimed in.
“But it is?—”
I cleared my throat to cut her off. “Pais, listen to what the man is tellin’ ya. They’re not interested in the improvements you’re suggestin’, and bullyin’ ‘em into it is the very definition of causin’ a disturbance.”
“It wouldn’t be if he’d listen to sense. He needs to give my overhaul ideas a shot so they can improve their efficiency around here. It’s a public service.”
Gilly opened his mouth to say something, but I held up my hand. “Yeah, well, that may be how you see it, but apparently, the idea of you runnin’ around and changin’ things to improve efficiency is disturbin’ people. So, if you don’t stop looney-toonin’ around this town tryin’ to fix things like the Tasmanian devil, we’re gonna have a problem.”
She crossed her arms, and it took every bit of my self-control not to notice how the move—combined with the way she’d jutted one hip to the side—accentuated her curves.
“A problem, huh?” she gritted out from between clenched teeth.
“Yep. A problem in the form of you bein’ trespassed from all the businesses in this town, and that won’t be very fun when you have to go the next town over for your fifth cup of coffee of the day.”
She opened and closed her mouth several times, then sputtered, “Trespassed?”
“Trespassed. It means?—”
“I know what it means,” she cut in.
“I imagine you do.”
She tilted her head at me, and a knowing glint crossed her features.
Yep. It was a dig at her brother, and she knew it.
And I wasn’t sorry.
She stepped closer, her crossed arms brushing the front of my vest, and I was more than a little glad the thick, sturdy construction offered me some protection.
“Oh, yeah,” she seethed, “I’m sure you’d just love to get another Stevens in handcuffs, wouldn’t you?”
I glowered at her for a long beat, matching her angry glare with one of my own. Clearly, old wounds weren’t as easily healed by time as mommas on porch swings wanted us to believe.
But then, something different started to heat my skin, and since I knew it was her proximity—that connection that had never seemed to die the way everything else between us had—I couldn’t help but let my lips twitch, just to rile her further.
Maybe it was her attitude or the fact that even after all these years, she still couldn’t let it go, but my control slipped. I leaned in so we were nearly nose to nose, narrowing my eyes. “Yeah, maybe I would. But I bet you’d be a heck of a lot more fun to have in handcuffs than the last Stevens was.”
