How To Land Her Lawman. Teresa Southwick

about your dad and Tim?”

      “They went to a movie.”

      “Okay.” The house was empty. In theory that worked for her plan except that she wasn’t very good at flirting. “Well, then, now you have dinner. Enjoy.”

      He slid her a questioning look. “Have you eaten yet?”

      “No.”

      “What are you doing for dinner?” he asked.

      “Oh, I have a frozen thing in the freezer.” She cocked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the general direction of her house, freezer and the frozen thing.

      Will leaned back against the countertop and folded his arms over his chest. The tailored long-sleeved khaki-colored sheriff’s uniform shirt fit his upper body like a second skin. Matching pants showcased his flat stomach and muscular legs to male perfection. She was the one with a seduction plan, but if this was being in control, she’d be better off flying by the seat of her pants.

      “So,” he said, “you put in time and effort on this food and you’re going to eat something that’s been in a state of suspended animation for God knows how long?”

      “Yeah, pretty much. I do it all the time.” She could have bitten her tongue clean off for saying that. How pathetic did it sound that she often ate by herself? Next he’d be asking how many cats she owned.

      “Not tonight you won’t,” Will insisted. “You’re going to stay and have some of the meal you made.”

      Per the plan she had to strike the right balance between reluctance and giving in. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager. The problem was that having dinner with him was tempting and it was awfully darn difficult to tamp down her enthusiasm. Because, gosh darn it, she did eat alone most of the time and the prospect of companionship at a meal was awfully appealing. And she told herself any companion would do. Herself almost bought into that thought.

      “I don’t know—”

      “Did you put poison in the casserole?”

      “Of course not. Wow, you can take the detective out of Chicago, but you can’t take the suspicion out of the detective.”

      “And you didn’t put a gallon of hot sauce in there to sabotage it and get even with me?”

      “It was for your dad. I didn’t even know you’d be here. The goal is to make Hank stronger and not give him another heart attack.”

      “So stay. It smells pretty good. Have dinner here.” His blue eyes darkened with challenge while the beginning of a grin curved up the corners of his mouth.

      “If that law-enforcement thing hadn’t worked out, you’d have made a pretty persuasive lawyer.” She happened to be looking at him and saw the shadows cross his face. They were there for a moment, then disappeared. “I’d like that.”

      “How about a glass of wine?”

      “Sounds good.” It actually sounded fabulous, but again, balance. Not too eager.

      He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay, then found two wineglasses in the cupboard. After removing the cork, he poured and handed her a glass.

      “Can I help with something?” she asked. “There should be a touch of a green. I could throw some salad together. Microwave some broccoli.”

      “Yeah, broccoli would be easiest. But I can do that. You’ve already done more than your fair share.”

      “Can I at least set the table?”

      “If you insist.” He’d already opened the freezer and glanced over his shoulder at her.

      The look zinged right through her. “I do.”

      “Okay.”

      April was here so often she knew where everything was stored. So she got out plates, utensils, napkins and water glasses, then arranged them all on the round oak table in the nook. She and Will moved around the kitchen as if this meal was a meticulously choreographed ballet. But instead of dips, twirls and lifts, they managed to avoid even the slightest touch. Was he on edge, too?

      She put hot pads out, then took the casserole from the food warmer and set it in the center of the table with a serving spoon. The bubbling had stopped but the dish was still warm and smelled yummy if she did say so herself.

      Will set a steaming bowl of broccoli beside the noodle dish and said, “Let’s eat.”

      April sat across from him, then put food on her plate and dug in. Macaroni and cheese was world-class comfort food, but noodles and chicken came in a close second to her way of thinking. Since Will had come back to Blackwater Lake, comfort was in short supply. Now here she was sharing a meal with him and feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

      “I can’t remember the last time we had dinner together,” she said.

      Will took a sip of wine, then his mouth pulled tight. “I’m sorry, April.”

      “The thought just popped into my mind. I didn’t say that to make you feel bad,” she assured him.

      “I know. And yet I do.” He toyed with the stem of his glass, those big hands dwarfing the delicate crystal that had been his mother’s. “I should have told you that I was dating someone. It was a lie of omission and I’m not proud of how I handled it.”

      April put down her fork and picked up her wine, then took a sip. He was sincerely sorry about what happened and that confused her. The goal was to seduce him and be the one to walk away, but this contrite Will made her question the mission. It was for closure, she reminded herself. That didn’t mean she couldn’t meet him halfway.

      “Look, Will, it takes two to make a relationship. You’re not the only one responsible for the way things turned out. If you remember back, communication between us had dropped off by a lot. You’re not entirely responsible for that. Phone calls and messages go both ways and I didn’t hold up my end of that either.”

      “Still, I should have—”

      “Let it go. Really. Do whatever you need to in order to work through this because I don’t see you as good martyr material.”

      “No?” His mouth twitched.

      “Let’s file it under ‘Not meant to be.’ Thinking about that time and wondering what if will drive you crazy.” She shrugged. “We’ll never know what might have happened if my mom hadn’t gotten sick.”

      “I suppose.”

      “No supposing,” she said. “It’s true. That part of our life is in the past. But this is a new time. Maybe there’s a chance to salvage a friendship.”

      “I’d like that.” He held up his glass. “To being friends.”

      She touched the rim of her glass to his. “Friends.”

      They drank, then smiled at each other. She might be a flirting failure but friends was a start. She could work with that.

      * * *

      Sometimes it was hard for Will to believe he was filling in for his father as the sheriff of Blackwater Lake. Granted it had been less than a week, but that didn’t change the fact that he had big shoes to fill. Hank Fletcher had always been his hero and Will wanted to follow in his dad’s footsteps. Any law-enforcement job was a big one, but compared to what he’d seen in Chicago, this gig was like maintaining order in the land of Far, Far Away.

      The office had one main room with a couple of desks for a single deputy and the dispatcher/clerk. Clarice Mulvaney was in her midfifties, a plump, brown-eyed brunette, friendly and efficient. Deputy Eddie Johnson was Will’s height, but skinny. He was barely twenty-one but looked about twelve. Or maybe that was just because Will felt so old. Still the kid was smart and eager to learn.

      In the back of the room there was a door that led to two six-by-eight-foot