What If We Fall in Love?. Teresa Southwick

too. But you’re not the right lawyer for this case.”

      This case? It was right up her alley—her specialty, so to speak. In the past few hours since he’d invaded her personal space, she’d seen firsthand his protective streak. First with the twins, then with her. Was he refusing her offer because he was trying to protect her? From what? What could anything about his twins have to do with her?

      “Why am I not right?”

      “Look, I’ve got to get home to the girls. Are you okay now?”

      “I’m fine.” Thanks to him.

      “Good.” He walked to the steps and glanced over his shoulder. “See you around.”

      “Okay,” she answered, bewildered. “’Night.”

      The echo of his footsteps faded. Unfortunately her bad feeling didn’t. If she were smart, she’d let this go. She should be grateful he’d pushed her away—saved her from herself, so to speak. He didn’t want her help. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. Even-Steven.

      Now she could get back to life as she knew it—on her own. But why after spending time with the sheriff did that seem so lonely?

      The next day Grady walked in the front door of the sheriff’s office, and Deputy Phoebe Johnson looked up.

      “Hey, boss.” Behind the counter, she leaned forward and rested her forearms on it.

      “Hey. Everything quiet?” he asked her.

      She nodded. “How was lunch?”

      “I ran into an old friend. Jack Riley.”

      “I heard about him. Good-looking military type. He went into This ’n That and didn’t come up for air till lunch. Something going on with him and Maggie?”

      Maggie Benson was the owner of Destiny’s gift shop.

      “Hard to say,” he answered.

      “Why? You had lunch with them.”

      “So?” Grady stood in front of the counter separating the waiting area from the two buddy desks behind it. Computer equipment and paperwork littered the tops of the work spaces.

      “So, put your legendary detective skills to work and tell me your observations.”

      The pretty, young, auburn-haired deputy met his gaze with a speculative one of her own. Her eyes were the color of Texas bluebonnets—somewhere between blue and lavender. She filled out the uniform better than any deputy he had. But wild horses would never get him to say that out loud. He treated her just like everyone else and that’s just the way she wanted it.

      At twenty-three, Phoebe was dedicated, smart and ambitious. Grady figured she was after his job. She’d probably have it someday, but not until he was ready to give it up. He was acting sheriff while elected sheriff Warren Drummond was on medical leave after a heart attack. But he would probably retire early, since his health was unlikely to permit him to return to the demanding job.

      “My observations are that Maggie and Jack are friends.”

      Phoebe shook her head and slid him a pitying look. “If that isn’t just like a man.”

      “You want to elaborate on that?”

      “No.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Let me rephrase. What does that mean, Deputy?”

      “It means you wouldn’t know a romance in progress if it sashayed up and hit you in the head with a two-by-four.”

      He grinned. She had a way with words and didn’t mince any of them. Not unlike a sassy brunette he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind. Thoughts of Jensen had kept him awake tossing and turning.

      “I seriously doubt that there’s anything going on between Jack and Maggie. Like I said, friends.”

      “That’s not what Ginger Applewhite said.”

      Ginger clerked at Charlie’s Tractor Supply for her owner husband. “What did she say and how did she know?”

      Phoebe sighed. “She told me Jack O’Hunk stuck like gum on a boot heel to Maggie at the high school championships last night. Then today he shows up in town and disappears inside her shop. When they come out, he’s not carrying a bag, which means he didn’t purchase anything. So it was personal. Then they wind up having lunch together. What would you call that?”

      “Circumstantial evidence.”

      “Not to me. It’s love, plain and simple.”

      “There’s nothing plain and simple about love.”

      Jensen was walking, talking, curvaceous, sexy proof of that statement. He didn’t believe in love, but she’d spent a lot of years pining for a guy who wasn’t worth the powder it would take to blow him to hell. What was plain and simple about that? Or the fact that Grady couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind.

      He might have been able to—at least, he’d have had a fighting chance if he hadn’t been dumb enough to kiss her. What was that all about? And could he take it back?

      But there was something about the way she’d looked standing on the porch in the moonlight. Something about the vulnerability peeking through the tough outer shell around her when she’d told him about the night Zach died. Something sad and brave that had tugged at him and made him want to fix what ailed her. Even though she’d tried to shrug it off, he knew the bull-riding accident had shaken her up.

      He knew it as surely as he knew staying far away from her should be his modus operandi. Hard to do, considering her determination to help. He wished she would just leave it alone.

      Phoebe tipped her head to the side as she studied him. “Is that experience talking? Macho baloney? Or are you just a confirmed bachelor?”

      “The latter.”

      She nodded. “Yeah. Me, too.”

      “You? By gender definition you can’t be a bachelor. Besides, I thought your motto was So Many Guys, So Little Time.”

      She smiled, a dazzling display of full lips and straight white teeth. “You heard that, huh? It’s not that so much as my life is steady and on course. I don’t need a—how can I put this? A nasty speed bump.”

      “Me, either.”

      Her gaze swung past his shoulder as she looked out the big window on downtown Destiny’s main street. “Don’t look now, but here comes one. A speed bump, I mean.”

      Grady half turned and heard a car horn honk as he spotted Jensen hesitate while she waited to see if the truck would stop for her. When it did, she hurried across the street. There was no hesitation as she opened the door to his office and came in. Her green eyes held anger, betrayal and confusion.

      He straightened and went to her. “What’s wrong, Jen?”

      “I need to talk to you.”

      He took her arm and studied her. She was wearing a short-sleeved, light blue denim shirt tucked into jeans. He’d seen her legs in last night’s sundress and somehow covering them seemed even more sexy, hiding her curves yet outlining them at the same time. After the way he’d left her last night, he hadn’t expected she would voluntarily seek him out. His gut tightened and a knot of apprehension pressed on his chest.

      “Are you okay?” he asked.

      She shook her head. “I’m so not okay.” She looked at Phoebe.

      “Jensen Stevens, this is one of my deputies, Phoebe Johnson.”

      The redhead nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

      Jen’s polite smile was strained. “Same here.” She looked up at him. “Is there somewhere private we could have this conversation?”

      He put his hand at the small