Almost Heaven. Jillian HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
pen and made the corrections. “There. That should do it.”
“Wonderful! My dear, what would I have done without you?”
“You’d have found it without my help. I—”
The bell above the door jingled.
Cameron. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. She felt his presence as surely as the current of August heat radiating through the opened door.
Why was she so aware of this man she hardly knew, as if he’d reached out and laid his hand on her arm? It was odd. She’d never felt this before with him or with anyone.
The door clicked shut, and he stood in the direct blast of the air-conditioning vent. Hat off, eyes closed, his head tilted back in appreciation. He seemed to be enjoying the icy draft as it ruffled his short, dark hair.
“That sure cooled me down.” He clutched his hat in his big, capable hands. There was a streak of grease across the backs of his broad knuckles. “Good afternoon, Helen.”
“Sheriff.” Gramma’s pleasure warmed her voice. “It’s good to see you. Come in and cool down. Kendra will get you something to drink.”
“Oh, I will?”
Leave it to her grandmother to try to matchmake. As if it would do any good. And poor Cameron. He was struggling to be elected, and he had to be desperate if he wanted to change her tire in this heat. He shouldn’t have to keel over from heat stroke because of it.
The chair groaned in the joints as she stood, although it could have been her knees, but she didn’t want to think about the creaks in her joints since she’d turned thirty. Her tennies squeaked on the clean floor as she put as much distance between her and Cameron as she could.
“Iced tea or soda?”
“One of those flavored teas would do just fine.” Cameron followed her, as if he wasn’t about to let her escape until he had her vote. Surely that’s what this was all about.
She wasn’t so sure when she turned around, with the cool metal handle in hand, and didn’t notice the icy draft from the refrigeration unit. He was behind her, and this time she didn’t tremble. She fizzed, like those carbonated bubbles in a glass of cola. She felt bubbly down deep in her soul.
“Lemon-flavored, if you’ve got it.” His voice came warm, deep and as inviting as ever.
The bubbles inside her fizzed upward and she felt lighter than air. As if her soul turned upside down and wasn’t sad anymore. How wrong was that? Get a grip, girl.
She handed him the squat bottle. “Anything else?”
“This is all I need.” He didn’t move away as he covered the mouth of the bottle with his wide palm and twisted the cap. “Zach lent a hand, too, so we did double-time getting it done. You’re all set.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
“Cameron. I’ve loosened your lug nuts, I think we ought to be on a first-name basis.”
“Aren’t you funny?”
“I try to be. I get that way when I’m sugar-deprived.”
“I can take a hint. You want more of a reward for a job well done? My vote isn’t enough.”
“I could use a snack.”
Was it her imagination, or was he trying to be charming? “Does the town council know what you’re up to?”
“Why? I’m doing nothing wrong. Every cop has the civil right to doughnuts. Or those amazing chocolate cookies your grandmother makes if you happen to have any lying around taking up too much space on your shelves.”
He was definitely trying to be nice. It was hard to shoot down a man complimenting Gramma’s baking. Maybe that was one way to win elections. What did she know about politics?
“It’s your lucky day.” Kendra spied two chocolate cookies left over from the day’s sales, looking lonely on the pastry shelf below the hand-off counter. “Could you do us a favor and take them off our hands?”
“I reckon I could try. Helping the lovely ladies of this town is my beholden duty.”
He sure must want to be reelected, since he was trying so hard. As if he had any real competition anyway. From what everyone said, he’d been one of the best sheriffs the town had ever had. She grabbed the two cookies with a slice of waxed paper and handed them over.
He had a nice smile. Not flashy or too wide, but honest and easy. Sincere. “My stomach thanks you. Helen, every time I see you zipping around in that little red convertible of yours, I think I’ve got to get me one of those.”
“Nah, you’re too stodgy, young man.” Gramma teased as she zipped up the bank’s deposit bag. “You’re better off in that sensible SUV you drive.”
“You’re making me sound middle-aged, Helen. I don’t appreciate that.”
“It’s not my fault you’re stuffy.” Laughing, Gramma slipped the laptop into her shoulder bag and, clutching the deposit, she headed for the door. Much faster than usual.
“Gramma, where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“The bank.”
“It’s already closed.”
As if she’d temporarily gone deaf, Gramma didn’t answer, just smiled sweetly as she backed through the doorway. “You keep up the good work, young man. It’s reassuring to see a man who knows responsibility.”
Her grandmother tossed Kendra a knowing wink before snapping the door shut with a final jangle of the bell. That matchmaker!
“What was that about?” Cameron looked puzzled, which proved he couldn’t be the best detective.
“It wasn’t obvious? My other sisters are married off and providing her with grandchildren, so she’s trying to find me a husband, I guess. Sorry about that.” Kendra rolled her eyes as she grabbed her half-full bottle from the table.
“Hey, I understand. My grandmother is the same way. She asked me for years every time I saw her, which was every Sunday for church, why I couldn’t find a nice girl and settle down.” He ambled toward the door, talking conversationally.
The good-natured banter lifted a weight from her shoulders. Cameron was no threat. He was simply making conversation. He’d treated Gramma the same exact way.
More at ease, she followed him and dug in her shorts pocket for her keys. “So, how did you handle your grandmother?”
“I informed her that if I could find a nice girl, then I would marry her. The problem is finding a woman who’s interested in me.”
“Sure, I can see why that’s a problem.” Dependable man, handsome and fit and went out of his way to help others. She locked up and tested the lock—sometimes it was tricky.
“Once she saw it from a prospective bride’s viewpoint, she stopped bothering me. She wouldn’t want to inflict any nice girl with a husband like me.”
“There’s more to life than having a ring on your hand, that’s for sure.”
Was it a lie if you wanted to mean what you said, even if it wasn’t the truth? Kendra wondered as she loped down the steps and crossed the street.
“Sure,” he agreed, keeping stride with her.
Was it marriage she was against, or the fear of trusting a man that much?
They’d reached his cruiser. “You should be safe to drive home.”
“Thanks again, Cameron. You have a good evening.” She strode around the back of the trailer, jingling her keys in the palm of her hand as she went, blond hair blowing in a long silken ponytail behind her.
Cameron bit into