Anywhere with You. Debbi Rawlins

      “No.” Leaning in, hoping to lighten things up, he asked, “Is it working?”

      She smiled a little. “Look, Ben, let’s not waste each other’s time. I know your type.”

      The words were like a slap in the face. He hadn’t been wrong, after all. He sat back, disappointed as hell. He’d been typecast most of his life. Nowadays, he didn’t run into that sort of ignorance much, and when he did, he took it in stride. But coming from Grace...

      “Is that right?” he asked. “And what type is that?”

      “Do I need to spell it out?” She stared him square in the eye. “Fine. The quintessential charmer. The consummate flirt. You think you can sweet-talk your way out of anything. And you’re probably quite successful at it. Not this time.”

      Ben hardly knew what to say. He’d been wrong again. The only thing left was to hit the ball back into her court. “Guess we’re even, because I know your type, too.”

      She held his gaze, waiting out the silence, then finally asked, “Which is?”

      “You’d rather do a pole dance than tear up a ticket.”

      Grace let out a loud laugh, then briefly covered her mouth. “You really underestimate me.” She cleared her throat. “How did you come up with that one? A pole dance?”

      He smiled. “A man can dream, can’t he?”

      “Pole dance,” she muttered, shaking her head. Someone drew her attention toward the bar, and she nodded.

      “Your friend show up?”

      “Who?” She frowned at Ben. “Oh, Clarence. No.” After taking another sip, she lowered her gaze along with the beer. “I think I let Trace skate because I was so relieved it wasn’t you.”

      He thought for a moment, not sure what she meant. “Huh.”

      She looked up. “Don’t make me regret admitting it.”

      Ben smiled at the light blush spreading across her cheeks. “I’ll work on that.”

      “Please do,” she said in a dry tone. “How long are you in town for?”

      “Maybe a week, give or take.”

      “You going back to LA?”

      He nodded, still confused over her comment about being relieved it was Trace driving. Though he doubted he’d get an explanation. “LA’s been home for fifteen years.”

      “You don’t miss Montana?”

      “Hollywood has its upside. Though I don’t live there anymore. I moved to Valencia.”

      “I’ve never been to California. When I was a kid, I begged to go to Disneyland.” Her smile dimmed. “It didn’t work out.”

      “So go now.”

      “I’m a little past that stage. Blackfoot Falls is more my speed.”

      He didn’t believe that. And neither did she, judging by the wistful look in her eyes. “Wait till you’ve been living here a few months. Disneyland will start looking good.” He saw it again, that small seed of doubt before she shuttered her expression. “Where are you from?”

      “Arizona. A town not far from Tucson.”

      “Why the move here? Not for your uncle.”

      “No,” she agreed. “I didn’t know him very well before coming here. But he said there was an opening in the sheriff’s department, and here I am.” She lifted her mug, pausing midway to her lips. “I’m very grateful to him for recommending me. I hope I didn’t give you a wrong impression.”

      “You took care of that by writing me a ticket.”

      “Oh, and you bore no responsibility by driving like a lunatic.”

      Ben grinned. “Were you in law enforcement in Arizona?”

      She nodded and took a long time to sip a small amount of beer. The waitress stopped at the table, and there was no missing the faint sheen of relief in Grace’s eyes. “What do I owe you?”

      He did a double take at the petite brunette. Trace’s fiancée? “Nikki?”

      “Hey, Ben. I saw you at the Sundance this morning, but you left before I could catch you.” She winced at the sound of her name being yelled from the back room. “Anyway, Trace and I were hoping we could get together before you left. For drinks, dinner, whatever. You, too, Grace...we can make it a foursome—” Another shout had Nikki sighing.

      Ben glanced at Grace for her reaction. Whatever she thought of the idea, she kept it to herself.

      “Would you excuse me while I go teach that cowboy some manners?” Nikki said with a deceptively sweet smile.

      “Go get ’em.”

      Grace hurriedly put money on Nikki’s tray. “That should cover me, right?”

      Nikki gave it back to her. “Your beer’s on the house.”

      More hollering cut off Grace’s objection. Her eyes shooting daggers, Nikki stormed for the pool tables. With a hand on her hip, she got in some guy’s face.