black sunglasses but was missing the crisp blue hat which would conceal all expression on his face. And…could I believe my eyes? Was that a horse standing behind him?
Chapter Three
“Well, hello. What a hunk you are!”
“Norah…” Lilly’s shocked voice warned.
I paid no attention as my gaze made its way across the most incredible horse I’ve ever seen—a gleaming chestnut with muscled flanks, high, strong withers and dark, intelligent eyes. He was drop-dead gorgeous.
“Norah!”
I looked up and blinked. Lilly’s shaken and bewildered expression slammed me down to earth in a hurry. Leave it to Lilly to think I was talking to the man, not the horse.
Without a pause, I pushed away from the table, stood and locked eyes with the massive gelding decked out in a highly buffed, supple black leather saddle and murmured appreciatively, “I wish I had one of you in my shop.”
Then, with great intention, I turned to the stony policeman. “What an awesome horse. I didn’t realize we were getting a team of police protection.”
Lilly sagged with relief once she realized that I wasn’t addressing the man’s attractiveness—which was certainly obvious. I made a mental note to talk to her later and convince her that not every woman views the world the way she does—by noticing the men first and only later seeing the scenery.
The cop, a hunk in his own right, with square shoulders, a broad, solid body that tapered to narrow hips and an unreadable, impassive face, nodded slightly.
“Nick Haley. I’m Shoreside’s new police officer.” He didn’t offer his hand or make any effort to smile. His face—the part I could see below the low hat and mirrored sunglasses—was worth studying anyway. Very nice, if you like strong jawlines, golden tans and lips that were probably very good at everything they did, from smiling to kissing….
“That is so awesome!” Lilly blurted, trying out her ingenue persona on him.
It didn’t work. Not even a twitch of a smile.
“Mounted police, what a great idea,” I said, delighted at the thought of having another animal—a huge and beautiful one—in the neighborhood. I had to drag my attention away from the gleaming sorrel shifting in the sun, his neck and flanks shiny and new as a freshly minted copper penny. His ear twitched as an audacious fly tried to land on its tip.
“Mounted only part-time,” he corrected me. “I work with several local police departments at community events. Because Shoreside hosts so many outdoor parades and events Sarge will be rotating in and out. Your mayor and city council decided that they wanted a police presence able to move in the crowds around the lake and one that wasn’t quite so…”
“…intimidating as a police car?” I finished for him.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat and began to scratch the magnificent animal on the neck. “This is my first day on the job. I want to stop by with the horse and meet each of the business owners. This is Sergeant Thunder.”
“He’s a real sergeant in the police force?” Lilly gasped. “I didn’t know they did that. Do horses have to go to the police academy or something?”
The officer’s finely drawn lips twitched. “Sergeant Thunder is the name given to him before he was recruited by us. Purely a coincidence. I call him Sarge for short.”
“Oh.” Lilly sat back to digest that. Lilly isn’t big on animals. She doesn’t hate them, but she doesn’t pay much attention to them, either—except Winky, who gives her a lecherous wolf whistle every time she enters Norah’s Ark.
“My name is Norah Kent. I own Norah’s Ark. This is Lilly Culpepper of The Fashion Diva. Welcome to Shoreside.” His handshake was warm, firm and rough with calluses. They were a working man’s hands like those of my grandfather, a farmer. I had the sense of being protected even as Nick and I shook hands. Perfect vibe for a policeman to emanate. Still, a smile would have been nice, too.
Lilly dropped Valley Girl and went straight for Queen Elizabeth. “Charmed, I’m sure,” she murmured huskily as he took her hand. Lilly is always adopting personae other than her own. They’re like clothing for her. She tries something different for whatever mood she’s in. She slides in and out of movie star guises like other people change T-shirts. Personally I like her best when she’s being Barbara Walters or Kelly Ripa. If Lilly is wearing a tailored suit and a hat, it’s Margaret Thatcher every time.
I reached out and touched Sarge’s flank. It twitched and rippled as if my finger were an unwelcome fly but he made no other movement. Neither horse nor rider was going to let you see them sweat.
“It was a pleasure to meet both of you. Now if you’ll excuse me…” The officer made a clicking sound with his tongue and Sarge obediently backed off. They were a team, all right.
After they moved away, Lilly squirmed excitedly in her chair. “What a dream!”
“The horse is great,” I agreed.
“Not the horse, silly. The man!”
“Did you even notice the horse, Lilly? The one that was twelve hundred pounds heavier than the guy leading him?”
“What if you met a guy someday who was perfect for you but didn’t like animals?” Lilly said exasperatedly. “Then what would you do?”
“A guy who didn’t like animals couldn’t be ‘perfect’ for me. It’s like that policeman and his horse, or Bentley and me, we’re a pair, a team, and that’s all there is to it. I’m in no danger of falling for a man who won’t have anything to do with God’s furry creatures.”
“You and your animals. One of these days you’re going to have to start looking at men, Norah, or you’ll end up one of those crazy cat ladies whose house smells like a litter box and has kittens born in your bed.”
My first notion was to gross her out and tell her that it didn’t sound like such a bad life to me, but I know what she means. I don’t want to live forever with a parrot with a ribald mouth and a dog with more emotional issues than he has fleas as my only companions.
We didn’t have time to debrief the advent of the new police officer any further because at that moment Joe walked out of the Java Jockey and headed for the lake. He turned briefly to wave at us.
Lilly pointed to Joe’s broad, muscular retreating back as he sauntered down the sidewalk. “Maybe you should marry Joe. He’s handsome, successful and crazy about you.”
“There’s only one small problem, Lilly. I don’t want to get married right now.” I slapped the heel of my hand against my forehead. “Oh, yes, silly me. There are two problems. I’m also not in love with him—not that way, at least not yet.”
“But you like him, don’t you?”
“Of course, but…”
“Has he asked you out lately?”
“We’re going out for Italian food on Saturday.”
Lilly clapped her hands and leaped to her feet. “I’ve got just the dress for you.”
“Dress? Lilly, when was the last time you saw my legs?” Granted, I do wear a skirt to church on Sundays—but it isn’t my usual uniform. That’s anything with a Norah’s Ark logo on it.
“Exactly my point.” She grabbed my hand and tugged until I reluctantly followed her across the street into The Fashion Diva.
The Fashion Diva has every bit as much élan as Lilly does. My friend is an artist at putting items of clothing together in unexpected ways. Today she had a beach-party theme on her wall, a collage of summer clothing—shorts, halter tops, flowing skirts—that appeared to be worn by invisible bodies playing volleyball. She’d tacked a scrap of webbing and two sticks to