“I’ll have just a coffee. Room for cream. Two raw sugars,” she said.

Eli pulled out his wallet and paid with cash and she almost laughed. He, and everything about the town, was about eight years behind everything else. In fact, now that she looked, she didn’t think the store was set up to take a debit or credit card. Good thing he’d treated, because she didn’t have any cash.

“And how has your day been?” she asked.

“Good. Gave out some speeding tickets, so the answers of those I’ve encountered could be different.”

“I would say,” she said. “I’ve gotten a lot of speeding tickets.”

“Have you?” he asked.

“What can I say? I’m a rebel.” Too late she realized she was making jokes about not driving safe again. Bah. She should have gotten a biscotti to gnaw on so her stupid mouth would be occupied. Talking to Eli wasn’t safe.

And why was that? Why was she such a mess with him? She was usually really good with men. All small talky and light and flirty like the barista babies behind the counter.

But not now. And not with him.

“Here you go,” Cassie said, handing the cups to Eli. “Have a nice day, Deputy Garrett. You, too, Sadie.” The other woman’s expression was far too meaningful for Sadie’s liking.

“Same to you, Cassie. Tell Jake hi.” He turned and started to walk out of the shop, her coffee in his hand.

“Wait! I need my cream.” He stopped and handed her the cup, which she took from him before turning to face the little bar, popping the white lid off and picking up the thermos to dump a healthy amount of half-and-half into her drink.

She put the lid back on, managing to avoid spilling and looking like a total dork, which, with her shaky sweaty hands, had been a distinct possibility. “Okay, now we can go.”

He shook his head slightly and pushed the door open, holding it for her. It should not have made her stomach feel warm and fuzzy, but it did. She had a serious fuzziness issue where that man was concerned.

“So,” she said, once the door closed behind them. “How did you sleep last night?”

He turned, his shoulder stiff, his cup paused midsip. “Fine,” he said.

Fine. Well. Fine. She’d been fine. Totally fine. Not at all shivery or lonely or horny. “Oh, good. Me, too.”

“The way you said it made it seem like maybe you didn’t sleep well.”

“That’s a lot of...meaning you read into my very simple question.”

“Your very simple question with what sounded like specific emphasis.”

“Fine,” she said. “It had emphasis. Specific emphasis. But you’re lying.”

He raised a brow and stopped walking, the wind ruffling his short dark hair. “Really?”

She wasn’t going to stand there and wallow in indignation. She was going to take a chance. To take a chance on the fact that last night had been as amazing for him as it had been for her.

“Uh-huh. Lying. You didn’t sleep well.” She leaned in. “You slept terrible. Naked. Sweaty and tangled up in your blankets. Wishing I was there to touch you. Wishing it was me putting my hand around your cock instead of you.”

She could see the tension work its way through his body, tightening his shoulders, tightening his jaw. The gamble had paid off.

“That’s enough,” he said.

“Oh, no, it’s not nearly enough.”

“I am on patrol.”

She winked. “Yeah, you are.”

“Euphemism?”

She lifted her shoulders. “Could be.”

“For what?”

“Just messing with you.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Well, sort of,” she said. “I was going to swing by the diner to talk to Alison about pie.”

And also kind of to check in on Alison, since Sadie was feeling twitchy about the entire situation. Unless someone came into her office to talk touchy situations, she didn’t normally seek them out. But Alison used to be a friend. And this was different.

Though she felt she could be talked out of involvement very easily since it sorely tested her comfort zone.

But then, just about everything she’d done for the past couple of months—signing a long-term lease, sleeping with a man who gave her feelings and dealing with spiderwebs in a house that had been long empty—had tested her comfort zone.

So why not continue the theme?

“Right. You were going to, but...?”

“What is your stance on ride-alongs?” she asked, looking at his patrol car parked down the street.

“It depends on who the person is.”

“Me. Me is the person.”

“Heavily against.”

“Why?” she asked, knowing she sounded whiny, knowing she was using him to help her avoid the Alison thing.

“Because. I’m not going to let a known criminal sit in the front seat of my car.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” she said drily, “you are a clever, clever man. And fine. I’ll go off and do my actual stuff instead of forcing you to spend any more of your precious time in the presence of my adorableness.”

He let out a long breath. “Fine. Come on.”

“I can go?”

“If you promise not to mess with things.”