The Sheriff's Little Matchmaker Page 8

  “Ignoring that kiss won’t make it go away,” Remy said, breaking into her thoughts.

  She tried to shake off her mood. “Talking about it won’t accomplish anything, either.”

  “What about thinking about it? Do you think about it? Maybe have dreams about it?” He studied her. “You seem like the type that might. Do you dream about me and—”

  “What makes you say that?” Damn her pale skin and her inability to prevent the flush spreading upward.

  His thumb drew small circles on her wrist, leaving her light-headed. Yanking her hand away wasn’t an option, because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how much he affected her. It was her job that was on the line, not his. Rose Creek was his town, not hers. But truth be told, though, her job wasn’t what she was worried about. Her heart was in more jeopardy. She didn’t want to, but she could always find another teaching position, and Remy had “heartbreaker” written all over him. And his job wasn’t the only reason. Remy Fontenot was not a man easily forgotten. He’d invaded her thoughts and her dreams before she even knew his name.

  He licked his lips. “Well…if we can’t talk about the kiss, how about we talk about my handcuffs…”

  Sasha rolled her eyes. He just wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t deny the thrill that knowledge gave her. “I thought you were off duty today.”

  “I am. These would be my off-duty handcuffs.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Sasha’s heart kick-started and galloped along. Heck, at least her libido wasn’t dead—just hibernating for the past five years.

  The waitress came back with their food and set the plates and napkins on the table.

  “Enjoy your lunch.” She paused for a moment at the table, wiping her hands on her apron. “And I really hope you’re enjoying Rose Creek. It’s such a nice, friendly little town. I’m sure you won’t regret settling here. And we have the best sheriff in the entire state. Can’t find a better one.”

  Sasha’s stomach clenched as a feeling of déjà vu passed over her. She would have to be careful not to get linked with Remy or it would be New York all over again if something happened to their relationship. Too bad she didn’t like big city life. At least there, she could be anonymous, and her love life wouldn’t be fodder for the town.

  Despite her thoughts, she managed to dredge up a smile for Juanita. “I’m enjoying living here and hope to make this my home for a good long while. There’s something comforting about small-town life.”

  “We’re glad you’re here, and if I can get you anything else, just give a shout.”

  “I do appreciate you finding the rental for me,” Sasha said after the waitress left, hoping to steer the conversation to safer ground. “Do you know how long the owner will be away?”

  “He’s three months into a two-year contract. After that, I don’t know. But that should give you enough time to decide what you want to do.”

  “I should be more settled in my job at the school by then. If I’m staying in Rose Creek permanently, I’d like to buy a house, put down real roots.”

  She thought about her mid-century five-room ranch near Dannemora. How excited she and Jimmy had been when they’d bought it, planning to do some renovations and eventually move on to something bigger when they started their family. But that never happened, because Jimmy always had an excuse to postpone babies. First he wanted to wait until he came off the nightshift, then it was until he made sergeant, then it was detective. She’d ignored the little voice that said those were excuses, and so she’d lived in the house alone until moving here. She was currently renting it out but had plans to sell once she was settled, using the money from the sale to buy something in Rose Creek. She’d never stopped longing for a home filled with family.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  Remy’s deep voice intruded on her thoughts. She blinked and squinted at him. “Doing what?”

  “Going off to someplace in your head. You’re not going to lose your job over one lunch.”

  No, but she could lose her heart to the wrong man. She could end up back where she started. Maybe not as “that poor widow” but this time as “that poor cat lady pining for our sheriff.”

  “And one supper,” she said to Remy.

  “You forgot the dancing.”

  She didn’t respond but tightened her fist and squeezed the plastic bottle, squirting a giant blob of ketchup on the plate next to her fries.

  “Lighten up, cher, it’s lunch. That’s all. Believe it or not, I have some pull in this town. I won’t let you get fired over an innocent lunch.” He picked up the small bottle of hot sauce and squirted some over his fries.

  Except nothing with the sexy-as-sin sheriff was innocent.

  “I’ll have you know I can do innocent.” He dropped the bottle back in the metal holder with a clink.

  Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. Was she that transparent?

  He grinned and pointed at her, waving his index finger in a little circle. “Admit it. You were thinking it, cher.”

  Evidently she was that transparent. “Do you know what I’m thinking now?”

  “Ouch. Shame on you, Miss Honeycutt.” He grinned and popped a fry in his mouth and chewed slowly, staring at her. His dark-eyed gaze contemplating her.

  She frowned at her burger. If parents of her other students wanted to cause a fuss, her job could be in jeopardy. She was enjoying their time together and hated that the thought was in the back of her mind, gnawing at her. “I know I sound like a broken record, but I can’t help it. My job is the reason I’m in Rose Creek.”

  “I could give you a few more reasons to be here.” He dragged a fry through the blob of hot sauce on his plate and popped it in his mouth.

  She took a bite of her burger and chewed, then wiped her mouth with her napkin. Tired of the ethics issue, she opted for changing the subject. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Since I was ten.” He took a bite out of his burger.

  “Really?” She dipped a fry in the ketchup puddle. “I thought Ethan said you were a detective in New Orleans.”

  “Ethan has a big mouth.” His nostrils flared. “I left when I was eighteen to join the New Orleans police force and came back eight years later.”

  “You prefer living in Rose Creek to New Orleans?”

  “I’m sure Ethan must have also told you why I came back?”

  “Yes.” She looked at the half-eaten sandwich in her hand as if it could tell her why she had this need to get to know him better.

  “Then let’s just say I thought it best to come back to Rose Creek and leave it at that.”

  She noticed he didn’t go into any detail about his decision to return to Rose Creek. Why should he? They hadn’t known each other long enough to be trading intimacies. Losing his mom and stepdad would have been a traumatic time in his life. Not something that was easy to discuss with anyone, let alone his daughter’s teacher.

  Not to mention Evie would have been born around that time. Sasha couldn’t recall Evie ever mentioning her mother. Was she out of their lives completely? By choice? She was curious, but the last time she’d asked about Evie’s mother he’d quickly shut down the conversation. Despite being nervous about what people might think or say about her being here with Remy, she was enjoying spending time with him and hated to spoil it by continuing to pry.

  So she let his answer stand…for now.

  …

  Sasha slipped the papers she’d finished grading into a manila folder and put it in her top drawer. It had been three days since her lunch with Remy, and he’d been right. Her fears had proved unfounded. No one had said anything, and she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. When one teacher did comment on her supper on Friday night with Remy and Evie, she made sure to explain how it had started out as a date with Ethan.

  She checked her watch as she locked the door to her empty classroom and went across the hall to the school library. Several women, who Sasha assumed must be mothers
of students, were gathered around a round table with adult-size orange plastic and metal chairs. She smiled to herself as she recalled forcing Remy to sit on that child-size chair during that parent/teacher meeting.

  Sasha slipped into an empty seat at the table and nodded to the other women.

  Melanie Jones, the PTA president, clicked her pen and shot Sasha a calculating gaze. “Welcome, Miss Honeycutt, we’re so glad you could join us today.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, but I confess I’m not sure why you asked me.” Sasha glanced around the table.

  Melanie set her pen down and placed her hands on the table. “We’d like you to convince Sheriff Fontenot to participate in the bachelor auction. We’ve asked him several times and he won’t commit, despite his daughter attending the school.”

  “Why are you asking me? Why would I have any influence over him?” Sasha frowned and glanced around the table, but none of the other women returned her gaze. Is that why she’d been invited to this meeting? After all, she wasn’t even a permanent teacher yet. She should’ve suspected something, but she’d thought they were simply trying to include the new teacher.

  Melanie smiled and glanced around the table at the other women, a mixture of teachers and parents. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Cecily told me just yesterday that you two were dancing Friday night at Gator’s.”

  Sasha’s heart began to pound. Perhaps she hadn’t gotten away with anything after all. “Cecily?”

  “Cecily Cook. She’s a past president. Her daughter is now in middle school. She and her husband were at Gator’s Friday night,” Melanie said, and others around the table nodded in unison.

  But Sasha noticed one woman in particular was glaring at her, the woman’s face pinched as if she’d been sucking on a lemon. Sasha knew the woman’s name was Deirdre, but she hadn’t had any interactions with her to explain the obvious dislike emanating from her.

  The other women didn’t seem to have any problems looking at her now. Sasha swallowed. So everyone now knew about their supper. And let’s not forget the dancing, Sasha. “Oh that. I had a date with Ethan Dent and Remy and Evie just happened to be there, so when Ethan got called away on a medical emergency, we sat together. That’s all.”

  Melanie nodded and smiled. Then picked up her pen and tapped it on the folder in front of her. “That settles it. You’ll be in charge of getting Remy Fontenot to participate.”

  Wait, what? Didn’t she have any input? Sasha groaned inwardly, imagining the look on Remy’s face and the comments he’d make when she approached him about this. There must be a reason these women hadn’t asked him, why they were sticking her with the task instead. From what Sasha had heard about Melanie, she wasn’t shy about forcing others to do her bidding. “Is-is his participation important?”

  “Without him, we’ll barely cover expenses. Our town isn’t exactly awash in eligible men,” one of the assembled mothers said.

  So why are you even having this silly auction? Sasha closed her mouth before the words could pop out. No good would come of antagonizing the president of the PTA or the other mothers who’d come together to help the kids. Sasha had always been a team player, especially when it came to the children. “What about his brother Ethan? Couldn’t we ask him instead?”

  “So you’re willing to ask him, too. We really appreciate that,” Melanie said and marked something in her notebook. “Now, on to new business.”

  That does it. Now they wanted her to ask both Ethan and Remy? Sasha was cooperative but not a pushover. “Why have you waited so long to do this? I would have thought this would’ve been in place months ago.”

  Melanie pursed her lips as if she’d eaten something sour. “Our original idea fell through, and your predecessor suggested the auction. We’ve done it in the past. It’s not a big deal. We’re not doing the whole runway production or anything—although we’ll keep it in mind for next year—just having the guys come up onstage and people placing bids. Very low-key.”

  “Shouldn’t you have asked the sheriff by now if you wanted to include him?” Sasha got the impression Melanie wasn’t accustomed to having her authority questioned.

  “We have.” Melanie pressed her lips together.

  “And?” Sasha persisted.

  Melanie waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “He always finds some excuse to wriggle out of it, so we weren’t going to bother asking this year, but when we heard how close the two of you were…well…” Melanie lifted her chin as if the admission someone else could wield greater power galled her.

  Sasha slowly shook her head. “Our being at Gator’s was purely an accident. Like I said, when my actual date got called away on an emergency, Remy and Evie sat with me, that’s all. Evie’s in my class, so it would be unethical for me to date him.”

  Melanie made a disbelieving sound. “You’re living in his uncle’s place. Or is that just a funny coincidence, too?”

  Sasha frowned at Melanie. “I don’t…”

  “The house you’re renting…it belongs to his uncle.” The victorious look Melanie threw her way told Sasha that arguing now was futile.

  Sasha raised her gaze to the acoustical ceiling. Damn you, Remy. Thanks for leaving out that little bit of information. He’d said the owner was working out of the country, and she hadn’t thought to ask how Remy knew him. As the sheriff, Sasha figured he’d know a lot about the people in the county. So now the whole town probably thought she and Remy were together. She should have known that rental was too good to be true.

  Melanie clicked her pen in triumph much as a judge would bang his gavel. “So that’s all settled. Miss Honeycutt will be getting Sheriff Fontenot and his brother for our auction.”

  Chapter Eight

  A car door slammed, and Sasha set aside the decorative silver photo frames she’d been unwrapping. She’d stopped by the storage unit on her way home from school and gotten a few more items to help make the rental feel more like home. She rose and glanced out the front window. Remy. Her pulse sped up, and she inhaled and let it out slowly before opening the door.

  “Hi, I thought I’d stop by and see how you were settling in.” Remy rested his booted foot on the bottom step leading to the porch.

  Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him in dark jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a burgundy tie before she remembered she was angry with him. “I was settling in fine, but now I’m not so sure.”

  Frowning, he hopped onto the porch, ignoring the steps. “What’s wrong?”

  He stood close enough his spicy scent filled her nostrils, sending a tingle clear down to her toes. Dear Lord, she was in so much trouble. She did her best to channel her previous righteous anger, but one look at that dark gaze and it melted like a Popsicle in August. “You didn’t tell me this place belongs to your uncle.”

  He exhaled audibly. “I take it someone told you.”

  “I didn’t divine it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to at least keep up the pretense of anger. Part of her wished she hadn’t changed into a tank top and shorts when she got home. She could use a little teachery protection right about now. And yet the other part of her was glad. She might be a primary school teacher, but she was also a woman. And Remy Fontenot was all sexy male.

  “…matter who owns the house? You’re paying rent just like any other tenant.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  Damn. He’d been talking and she’d been so into her own thoughts she’d missed it. So not good. She needed to be present in any and all conversations with him. “Of course it matters.”

  His eyes gleamed as they settled on her. She glanced down. Her crossed arms had pushed up her breasts. She dropped her arms to her sides, despising the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

  “Why does it matter?” He leaned against one of the porch posts.

  Yeah, why? The biggest reason was because it felt as though she were getting more deeply involved in Remy’s life. But was that something she wanted to admit to him? “I don’t like bein
g blindsided.”

  His jaw clenched. “Who blindsided you?”

  “The president of the PTA. She—”

  “Melanie Jones?” He interrupted her and rolled his eyes when she nodded.

  Looked like the sheriff agreed with her opinion of the self-important Melanie. Sasha had to bite her lip to hide her grin. Remember you’re supposed to be angry with him. “I was personally invited to attend a Spring Carnival committee meeting this afternoon.”

  He straightened up from the post he’d been leaning against. “You’re on the committee for that?”

  “Yeah, the teacher whose place I’m taking was on it, so they stuck me on it, too.” And because they think I’m dating you. But she’d rather die than tell him that little fact.

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you want to be on it?”

  “I’m okay with it except they want me to get people signed up for a bachelor auction.” She left out the part about asking him. She couldn’t bid on him, but the thought of some other woman winning a date with him ignited a blowtorch in her stomach.

  “Oh, really…and how’s that going?” He shot her an inquisitive look.

  Boy, his interest had perked up all of a sudden. Why so interested in the Spring Carnival? Maybe because his daughter goes to the school, Sasha. “So far I’ve gotten one person, but I’m hoping for more, and this person said he’d help.”

  Remy cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. He lifted his eyebrows when she remained silent. If she didn’t ask him, then no one else could bid on him. He wouldn’t go on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn’t her. She could always tell the committee he’d refused, but she’d never been a decent liar.

  What a ham. Despite her conflicted feelings, she burst out laughing. “You’re not very subtle, Sheriff.”

  “Back to sheriff? I thought we’d gotten past that.” He shook his head and took a step toward her, his gaze capturing hers.

  She took a step back and leaned against her front door. Yeah, they’d gotten past her calling him sheriff, but she needed the reminder before losing her head completely. She needed to keep him at a safe distance. “Why are you suddenly so interested in the auction? It was my understanding that you always refuse to participate.”