dresses that he guessed to be a size or two too big. It was at moments like these, however, when she was bent, forcing the fabric to mold to her body, that he noticed how very curvy she was.
And was reminded of how long it had been since he was with a woman.
“I see,” he said, crouching to help her. “So the meeting conflicted with another committee meeting, maybe?”
She looked at him shyly. “No.”
“Ah. So the reason has to be a man, then.”
Her flush was so complete, so unexpected, that his stomach knotted.
“Um, the answer to that would have to be no, as well.”
Aidan’s chest tightened. Over the past twelve months he’d come to see that this woman had so very much to give…if only she could be encouraged to do so. Her opinions were fresh and unbiased. Her appearance uplifting. Her very presence like a spring breeze.
He hated to watch her go back and forth from her grandmother’s house to her shop, never stopping to talk to anyone, never veering from the well-tread course, never batting an eye when on occasion the town kids would call her the witch that so many of them believed her to be.
He’d thought if he could get her to come out of her shop, upset her normal pattern, force the town to see her for who she really was, he would be doing her—and them—a favor.
And if a small fringe benefit was that he would have an excuse to spend more time around her, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it. Of course, he couldn’t allow himself to get involved with her. Or anyone else for that matter. Not until he could take care of some very important issues on his personal agenda.
She whispered something.
“Pardon me?” he asked.
She blinked at him, seeming horrified. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I could have sworn…” She looked utterly aghast, and he realized that whatever she’d said hadn’t been meant to be heard. He smiled. “Never mind.” He leaned back on his heels and handed her the jars one by one, while she reached up to place them on the counter. “Anyway, the holiday is only a week away and the committee is no closer to agreeing on a theme than they were three months ago. I could really use an ally.” He offered up a grin. “Someone whose vote I could count on. Besides, acting like a member of the community might be a good idea.”
Her eyes narrowed a bit as she continued taking the jars from him. “I’ve been a member of this community my entire life.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He refused to release his grip on the last jar. She held on to it even as he did. He swore he felt a strange warmth climb up his arm and down into his stomach.
“I know,” she said finally.
Aidan moved his fingers until they were covering hers. Her skin was so soft, so warm and inviting under his. He’d forgotten what it was like to touch a woman in that simple yet intimate way. Forgotten how alive it made him feel.
The bells above the door jingled, shattering the moment. He released the jar. Penelope’s flush deepened as she put it on the counter, then she rose.
“Good morning, Sheriff Parker.”
A jolt of fear shot through Aidan as he got to his feet.
He reminded himself that he had nothing to fear from Sheriff Cole Parker.
At least, not yet…
Chapter Two
If Penelope had felt restless before, Aidan’s brief touch upgraded the emotion to chaos. A heart-stopping awareness that toyed with her body temperature and cut the bottom out of her stomach, made her feel like a stranger to herself.
Oh, she’d always thought Aidan attractive. Very attractive. But she had never before linked herself to him in the same sentence, as in “Aidan and I.” She hadn’t dared.
Now her mind was going a million miles a minute doing just that.
He smiled at her as if he knew what she was thinking, and her pulse leaped.
“I just came by for some more of that tea you made for me the other day, Penelope,” Sheriff Parker was saying as he took off his hat. “I usually don’t go in for that kind of stuff, but, well, I liked it.”
It seemed to take a great deal of effort to tug her gaze away from Aidan’s face. “Sure. I’ll just put some water on to boil.”
“Sheriff.” She heard Aidan greet the other man as she plugged in her electric teapot, then eyed the tins of herbal teas on the shelf behind her. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what tea she had fixed for Cole.
“Aidan,” Cole said back.
“How’s everything across the Circle this morning? Any new crimes to report?”
A simple question. But when an answer wasn’t immediately forthcoming, Penelope looked over her shoulder to find Cole running his fingers through his hair, obviously troubled.
“Funny you should ask that. Something strange did happen last night.”
Penelope settled on green tea with a hint of ginseng and measured a few spoonfuls into a small teapot. She turned to put some prepackaged raspberry biscuits onto a plate, tuning in to an odd kind of tension emanating from Cole. He seemed to be eyeing Aidan in a curious way.
Cole finally sighed. “Old Man Smythe’s filling station was hit last night. He was robbed at gunpoint.”
Aidan was in the act of accepting a biscuit when—Penelope could have sworn—his hand hesitated. “Nobody was hurt, I hope?”
“No, no one was hurt. But Smythe did give an interesting description of the assailant. He said he looked exactly like you—” The sheriff rubbed the back of his neck, then lapsed into silence as the kettle began to whistle.
Penelope turned to pour hot water into the pot. “Actually, his exact words were ‘that schoolteacher Kendall robbed me.’“
Penelope nearly knocked over the teapot. She turned to watch the two men stare at each other.
Then, finally, Cole chuckled.
“Yeah, I figured the old man was overdue for a visit with the optometrist.”
She handed Cole his tea and offered a cup to Aidan, as well.
“Thanks, Penelope.” Cole blew on the liquid, then took a sip. “Ah, heaven.” He smiled at her. “You wouldn’t happen to have a package of this stuff I could buy, would you?”
“No, that’s my own personal stash,” she said, then laughed. “Of course I do. How much would you like?”
The next ten minutes or so were filled with light talk of what else was going on in town and wrapping up Cole’s purchases. Finally, Cole put his hat back on, accepted another cup of tea in a disposable cup and bid them a good day.
The tinkling of the bells seemed to echo through the shop for a long time after he left.
“Imagine, Mr. Smythe thinking you were the one who robbed him,” she said, wiping the counter.
Aidan didn’t appear to hear her. His expression was somber and thoughtful as his gaze fixed on the sheriff’s office across Lucas Circle.
“How much do I owe you for the tea?” he asked absently.
Penelope blinked. “It’s on the house, Aidan.”
He peeled off a couple of dollars and put them on the counter. “I’ll see you later.”
Penelope watched him leave, noticing that Spot followed him out with a brief glance in her direction. She felt more than a little disappointed. Had she imagined what had passed between them before Cole had come in?