“Not much to see in Green Valley?”
“Plenty to see, but I can’t give you the full tour and get you home at a decent hour.”
“What about an indecent hour?” AH HA! There she is. I’m back in business, baby!
He chuckled, a rumbly, masculine sound, his deep-set eyes dancing. “What are you hungry for?”
“What are my options?” I surveyed the street. It was just after 4:00 PM, but no one seemed to be out and about. All the shops looked closed.
“Sandwiches, soup, salad.” He halted in front of one of the closed storefronts and withdrew a ring of keys. Words painted on the glass read, The Sandwich, Soup, and Salad Stop.
“But it’s closed.” I pointed to the closed sign hanging on the door.
“I have a key.”
“Officer, do you own The Sandwich, Soup, and Salad Stop?”
“I do not. But I know the owner and she won’t mind if we grab a bite to eat. If none of those appeal, I also know the owner of the Café on the Corner, and they have muffins and such from the Donner Bakery.”
I glanced over my shoulder and then back to him. “You have a key to the café too?”
“I do.”
Turning my head from side to side, I surveyed the shops along the sidewalk and spotted a hanging wooden sign for a place called Utterly Ice Cream Parlor. “What about the ice cream place?”
“You want ice cream?”
“Do you have a key?”
“Yes.”
My lips parted as curiosity momentarily eclipsed my desire to be aloof and mysterious as well as my brash and bold instincts. “Everyone just gives you a key to their shops?”
He seemed to take my questioning in stride. “Not everyone. I don’t have a key to the dulcimer shop, but my father does.”
“Does he own it? The dulcimer shop?” I had no idea what a dulcimer was.
“No.”
A nagging suspicion had my heart beating faster. “What does your father do?”
“He’s the sheriff.”
“And you’re a sheriff’s deputy,” I murmured.
Bryce Littleton was a farmer with a farmer father. What is going on? Was this guy the Bryce Littleton of Green Valley, Tennessee? Did every small town have one?
“It’s not so unusual in these parts for families to all be in the same line of work.” He gave me his closed-mouth smile, one side of his lips pulling higher than the other, his eyes twinkling down at me. “Most of the Leffersbees, for instance, are in banking. The Donners run the lodge and have for generations. The Monroes are in construction—well, most of the brothers.”
I supposed that was also true where I grew up. The people who stayed after high school tended to work with or for their families, in general. Or in the same line of work.
The flutter of disquiet lessened. “And your people enforce the law?”
“That’s right.” He confirmed with a single nod, his voice quiet and steady. “It’s not so strange, if you think it over. Aren’t there dynasties in Hollywood? Barrymores, Fondas, Smiths?”
Well, look at him. Pretty and smart. “Good point,” I conceded, unable to stop my slow-spreading smile. He really was very pretty.
“So where are we going?” he asked, shifting his weight to his left foot and tilting his head, his eyes still on me. “The Stop, Corner Café, or Utterly Ice Cream?”
“I . . .” Reluctantly, I tore my attention from his gorgeous gaze, surveying the small downtown once more. “I guess, uh—”
Quick! What is sexy to eat? Not sandwiches. I didn’t want chipmunk cheeks while chewing. Not soup. What if he slurps? That’d be a dealbreaker. And not salad; dressing is always a hazard. A muffin? No.
Too bad there weren’t any banana stores around here.
“Ice cream,” I said finally. Licking was good. Perfect.
“You want ice cream for dinner? In late November?”
“Whenever possible—” I winked at him “—I like to skip straight to dessert.”
“Ice cream it is.” He grinned.
Nailed it.
“We’re stopping?”
“Yep.” He nodded.
I frowned, gauging how far we were from the flow of traffic—not that I’d seen any other cars on the twisting, two-lane highway. He’d backed us onto what I assumed was a side shoulder and directly into the tree line. Just the hood of the car was visible from the road, and only if someone was really paying attention. The cab and truck bed were surrounded by brush and trees.
“We can stop here?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, why are we stopping here?”
“We’re just above Milton Overlook,” he said, like all my questions would be answered by these words.
We were the only car pulled off the road, and it didn’t look like much of an overlook. “So people pull off here to see a view?” Redirecting my attention behind us, I winced at the sun, low in the sky, coming in directly through the back window.
“Don’t look back.” He checked his watch. “It’s not time yet; we’re early. Give it another five minutes.”
“We’re early for an overlook?” I made a face without thinking, scrunching my nose. “Does the view put on a show? Are these hills alive with the sound of music?” SHH! RAE! Stop talking. No more Sound of Music jokes.
I braced myself for his reaction to my goofiness, but his eyes seemed to smolder as his lips tugged. He took his time, gazing at me like it was one of his favorite pastimes, before answering, “Something like that,” in his deep, quiet southern drawl.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something else stupid, like, I do declare, Mr. Deputy. Your quiet, confident ways have me positively in raptures, even though the words weren’t far from the truth. My head felt dizzy, and I had to think he possessed some sort of sexy-voodoo magic. The recipe of him taken all together (that I’d seen so far) seemed unreal, too good to be true.
And yet everything about this guy felt entirely authentic.
He hadn’t even looked at his phone. Not once. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in someone’s company—especially not for this length of time—without them at least glancing at their phone, checking their messages or recent likes and comments on Instagram.
Attention flickering over me, he reached behind us and pulled out the cooler where our ice cream resided. It was more than just a cooler, as I’d learned after he scooped a mint chocolate chip for me and double chunk cherry for himself. It was an ice cream cone carrier cooler, complete with cone-shaped holders and a power cord that plugged into the cigarette lighter of older model cars. I’d never seen anything like it.
Straightening in the seat, I hooded my eyes and put on my best sexy lady voice. “So, breaking into ice cream shops downtown and an overlook? Where else are you taking me on my grand tour of Green Valley, deputy?”
“This is it.”
Really? “Really?”
“We’ve only got this evening, and most everyplace is closed due to folks being at the wedding, so I picked my favorite place that’s close by and accessible.” He checked his watch again and then twisted in his seat, obviously looking for something.