the chief said. “Write down every time you pretend to be something you’re not.”
“I heard you the first time,” Bryce said. “But that’s a little ridiculous, isn’t it? We do that constantly in this job. We have to look tougher than we are. We have an image to maintain. We don’t show fear, we show confidence.”
“Then you should fill it up pretty fast,” the chief said with a smile.
“And if I refuse?” Bryce asked.
“You’re well within your rights,” the chief said with a nod. “If you don’t want to do it my way, then you can do it Larimer County’s way. I have a room filled with training binders all about feelings and appropriate responses to them. You could get started today, and I’m pretty sure you could work through about fifteen to twenty of them by the end of your time here.”
That was playing dirty. Bryce could do it the chief’s way, or spend his next two weeks hip-deep in procedural training.
“You make a compelling argument, sir,” Bryce said. He reached for the little notebook and tucked it into his pocket. “We’ll do it your way.”
“Glad to hear it.” The chief shot him a grin. “You’ll be patrolling in town with the other officers, and we’ll sit down and discuss the list you’ve written in a few days. Have a good day, Officer Camden.”
The chief turned away, and Bryce rose to his feet. That was it? He waited for a moment to see if the chief would say anything more, but he didn’t look up again. Bryce walked to the door and opened it, then looked back.
“Say, Chief?” he said.
“Yes?” Chief Morgan looked up.
“If I’m going to be on patrol, what do you say about assigning me a better vehicle?”
Chief Morgan narrowed his eyes in thought, then slowly shook his head. “Sorry, can’t do it.”
“No other cars available?” Bryce asked.
“No, I have three in the parking lot, but this is good for you. It’ll give you a bit of a jump on your assignment there.”
Bryce bit back the retort that flew to his lips and shook his head.
“All right. Thanks anyway, sir.”
He stepped outside the office and was careful not to shut the chief’s door too loudly. So driving that ridiculous minivan was part of the game here, was it? Fine. He’d do his time, and when he was done, he’d go back to his regular post and his regular life in Fort Collins.
I can survive anything for two weeks.
* * *
Lily was the kind of woman who spoke her mind and then regretted it later. She’d gone over that conversation with Bryce in her mind thirty times already, and every time she came to the same conclusion: she’d gone too far. Bryce wasn’t from Comfort Creek. He wasn’t one of them, and she couldn’t treat him like he was. While his help was appreciated and his focus on her aunt was far preferable to his focus on her brothers, it was still a huge breach of professionalism, and she regretted that.
That evening, Lily dressed Emily in a sundress she’d been given by a neighbor and wondered if she could fix this. But how? Bryce had agreed to help them look into Aaron—that was worth something. Why, oh why, didn’t she think a little more before opening her mouth and telling a relative stranger all of their family business? Except that her brothers had tried to break into the house, and so that hadn’t been avoidable, and her aunt...well, she had been preoccupied with Aunt Clarisse, and apparently, Lily talked too much. And that talkative, too-open personality was her bane. She longed to be elegant and self-controlled. She just...wasn’t.
Emily’s little legs poked out the bottom of her sundress looking as fragile as porcelain. The baby socks she’d been given kept falling off—too big for those newborn feet—and so she decided to forget about them.
The daylight from the window lit up the room, but the veranda blocked the actual rays of sun. She could see the backs of two chairs from the front porch against the window pane, and she paused to look outside onto the expanse of lawn and that towering elm. Bryce’s minivan turned into the drive. He probably thought she was insane, but it was too late now.
Emily lay on a blanket on the floor. She looked up at Lily, her big brown eyes trying to focus on her face. She leaned closer to the baby and smiled.
“Hi, sweetie,” she crooned. “You look so pretty!”
Emily’s arms flailed, and in spite of all the other drama, a wave of affection rose up inside Lily. This little girl was so precious, yet she was starting out her life with so many challenges. The baby was trying to bond—to find out who would protect her—and Lily wasn’t her mother. She was temporary foster care. She wasn’t the one Emily was supposed to connect with. But how could a newborn not bond with anyone? She had to. And how could Lily stop her own growing affection?
The front door opened, and Bryce’s footsteps echoed in the foyer. He appeared at the door to the sitting room.
“You said before not to knock,” he said, shooting her a grin. “Are we leaving now, or—”
“Is this crazy?” she asked, picking the baby up and rising to her feet. “I mean...I’m overstepping tonight, aren’t I?”
“Oh, totally,” he replied, his expression deadpan. “This is positively nuts, but it kind of beats the other things I had planned.”
She laughed, then stopped short. “I’m serious, though.”
He was joking around, and she was trying to find her footing here.
“Me, too.” He shrugged. “Look, I could check into Aaron in a less obvious way, if you want. I don’t have to come along. But now that you’ve given me the heads-up, I’m definitely going to look into him. Whether this little dinner happens tonight or not. So no pressure.”
“Are you comfortable coming along?” she asked.
“I look at it as undercover work.” He flashed a grin. “Speaking of which, I’d better get changed. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Bryce’s footsteps moved up the stairs, and she looked down at Emily. How had she gotten herself into all of this? A baby to care for, a wedding to investigate, her brothers picking the worst time imaginable to beg for attention in the most effective way possible... Add to that this handsome officer that she found herself attracted to, and she needed to keep her head on straight.
A few minutes later, Bryce came back down dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray polo shirt.
“So how are your brothers today?” he asked.
What could she say? He already knew too much about the boys.
“They’re fine...far as I know.” She shook her head. “They aren’t normally quite that bad, so I have to apologize—”
“Sure they are,” he countered.
Maybe they were, but she didn’t like to admit to it, especially to a police officer. She knew how they looked—how they all looked. She saw the boys differently than anyone else did, though. She saw the little round cherub faces that they used to have. She felt her cheeks heat at his directness.
“So we aren’t going to politely pretend that everything is hunky-dory?” she asked. “We can’t rewind a little bit there and let me have this?”
“Not tonight,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not going to judge, though. I used to be a lot like them.”
That did help a little bit. She’d called it before—sensed he was just like her brothers on some level. Maybe he’d be less inclined to teach them a lesson legally, or was she being too hopeful there?
“I could see that,” she replied.
“Yeah?” He