Trouble When You Walked In (Contemporary Romance) (27 page)

“We did really well today,” Cissie said, “until we got to The Log Cabin. Except for me and Boone, Kettle Knob is going to look excellent on national TV. And Boone still might. Anne had a crush on him. But I’m screwed for sure.”

Scotty just stared at her.

“Oh, shoot, I don’t know
what’s
going to happen on that TV program!” She threw her hands in the air and let them fall to her side.

Scotty sat silent as a stone, propped up his feet, and turned away to look at the football game.

“Let’s go,” Boone told Cissie.

She was glad at least one of the men in the room wasn’t treating her like a criminal. Together, they walked around a corner and entered the lone cell at the station. In the tiny space, she was more aware than ever of everything about her partner in crime: his frayed shirt cuffs (it must be one his favorite shirts, which she found endearing); his temples, tanned and smooth; and his perfectly shaped sideburns.

There were two cots, both made up with gray wool blankets. It was cold. Definitely not cozy.

“Here goes.” Cissie called Nana and asked for a ride. Nana, good soul that she was, barely asked for an explanation. Vastly relieved, Cissie put her phone away.

Boone said nothing. He had a sort of mysterious vibe about him. He was somewhere else. He hadn’t even fought her about who to call to pick them up.

“I thought all cells had windows,” she said to pass the time.

“I guess not.”

“Apart from the lack of window, this pretty much looks like what I thought a cell would look like. Very boring. I’d want outta here fast if I got locked in.”

“That’s the idea.” He lifted his chin, exposing a tanned, muscular neck. “What’s the score?” he called to Scotty.

“I’m not telling,” the chief called back.

Misery and irritation were written all over Boone’s face.

“Are you going to sit?” she asked.

“Nope.” He extended a palm. “Feel free.”

There he was being cold and removed. She wished she understood it. She took a peek at her phone. “Nana will be here in ten minutes. She was just getting out of the bath.”

“I hate that we had to disrupt her evening.” He didn’t seem to want to look at her.

“Is something bothering you?”

“You mean, apart from the fact that we got taken into protective custody?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not enough reason?”

She hitched a shoulder. “I don’t know. I think it’s kinda fun. In a strange way. I doubt I’ll ever forget it.” She looked at the cell door. “It’s not even locked, though. So it’s not like it’s a real adventure.”

“Damn!” yelled Scotty.

Boone adjusted his stance.

Cissie wished she could get closer to him. “Are you dying to know who just scored? Or maybe intercepted?”

“Yep,” he said, then paused. “No, not really.” He finally looked at her. But he wasn’t happy. That was for sure.

She came up to him. “I’m sorry,” she said low. “About tonight.” She reached up, curved her palm, let it hover by his nose but didn’t touch it—surely, it was sore—then brought her hand back down.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I’m the one who butted in. You were having fun.”

“No,” she said, “not really.” She dared to lift her hand again and brush a lock of hair behind his ear. “The whole time I was there, I was looking to see where you were.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. I was only pretending to flirt with the fiddler.” She put her hands on his chest, stood on tiptoe, and gently pressed her lips against his. Then pulled back. What could she say? She wasn’t sure.

He pulled her close. Nudged her mouth with his. Slid his tongue across her lower lip.

She greedily took advantage of the moment, and opened up to him.

God, he tasted good. And he felt like heaven, all warm skin and stubble. Sexy, rhythmic caresses with his thumb across her back made her melt even farther into him.

He pulled back. “We had a talk in the truck,” he said low. “We’re already breaking our rules.”

“Don’t blame me,” she whispered. “You started it. I was doing really well at The Log Cabin, but then the fight happened, and you told Scotty you wanted to dance with me.”

Boone sighed. “Yeah.”

“You damn fools!” Scotty yelled as a roar came from the television set. “What kind of call was that?”

Boone cupped both Cissie’s sheathed breasts in his palms and kept his eyes on hers. “You’re trouble, Miss Rogers.”

“No more than you are.”

“Are you sure? Jumping on a man’s back and blowing out his eardrums with your screaming is pretty crazy.” He slid both hands to her backside and inside the back of her skirt and underpants to cup and knead her bottom. She snuggled closer, against that rigid line in his jeans that made her thrill with wanting him.

“That was my Girl Scout training.”

“I didn’t know they made y’all into ninjas.”

“But you nearly broke his jaw.”

“No wonder we’re in this cell,” he said gruffly.

She smiled up at him.

His mouth stayed cold, but his eyes warmed.

They both looked at a cot, then at each other.

Oh, the possibilities!

Which were not possible at all but fun to imagine, so when they pulled back at the same time, there was no weird tension between them. Only a companionable silence. They were cell mates. Cell mates making do. And they had, considering what they had to work with.

They’d grabbed a little fun.

So there, Scotty!

Cissie crossed her arms over her chest and sat down. Boone walked up to the cell door and gripped a vertical bar.

Two whole minutes went by. Cissie admired Boone’s back, how long and strong it was. She imagined that well-toned back looming above her on a bed—seeing it in a mirror on the ceiling. The very idea was so outrageous and wonderful she couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together in pleasure.

The TV noise blared, and she looked down her blouse, remembered Boone’s hands on her blouse cupping her breasts beneath it.

She could have happily sat in the cell daydreaming about all the sexual possibilities between them for hours.

“Hey,” she said.

“You don’t have to say it,” he said without looking back at her. “No more messing around.”

Ouch. That hurt. She was actually going to ask him what his favorite song had been at the bar. But he was right. They weren’t supposed to mess around.

She sighed. “We’ll move out tomorrow. I just need to tell Nana.”

He turned to face her, the lines around his mouth etched deep. “That’s a good idea.”

Oh.

Her heart broke right then and there. How could he affect her so?

Another long, lonely few minutes passed.

When Nana finally came, Cissie could tell right away that she should have called Laurie instead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Let’s spring you two jailbirds outta here,” Nana said mildly. Yes, she was annoyed to have to drive to the police station at night. However, she would be patient. She remembered how stupid you could get when you were in love and didn’t want to admit it.

“I’m so sorry,” Cissie said.

“It’s all on me.” Boone shut the cell door behind them.

The look Scotty threw the two culprits as they passed his desk confirmed what Nana had guessed:
they knew better
.

They filled her in on the details on the car ride home. It all sounded pretty ridiculous.

“Lord, this
Morning Coffee
show is gonna have a field day,” she said from the driver’s seat.

She hoped they felt like idiots being chauffeured by a little old lady, but it was what it was. Boone was in the backseat. Cissie was up front.

“You were a fool to jump on that man’s back,” Nana chided her granddaughter.

“I know.” Cissie’s voice was small. “I-I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“That much is clear.” Nana’s tone was intentionally dry. “What’s that outfit you got on? And what happened to your hair? You look ready to rumble.”

“Um, thanks?”

Nana refused to say
you’re welcome,
even though she secretly approved of the new sexy look. “Boone, it seems to me you were defending yourself. But that man got his back up for a reason. Am I right?”

“Yes,” he said. “I could have gone about things differently.”

“I’ll bet you could have.” Nana wasn’t letting him off the hook, either. “Any chance you two grown-ass people with responsible positions in our community were liquored up?”

“I know I was,” said Cissie.

“Me, too,” Boone added.

“Shit,” was all Nana said.

But it was enough.

At the house, Cissie was so obviously embarrassed she refused to go to the kitchen and have some of the cocoa Nana offered. “I’m heading up,” she said in the foyer. “Good night.” She tried to slink up the stairs.

But Nana got one last dig in. “You’d better drink some water and take some headache pills, young lady, before you go to sleep.”

“I will,” Cissie said softly.

“You’re not gonna run away, are you?” Nana asked Boone.

“No, ma’am.” He followed her into the kitchen.

He was a good man at heart. Nana knew that very well. She got out some cocoa powder, sugar, and vanilla. “You’ve got a well-stocked kitchen.”

“I live alone, and I like cake.”

That simple statement won Nana over like nothing else. “You make cake?”

“Yellow’s my favorite. With chocolate frosting. That and a glass of milk.”

“Did your mama bake you a lot of cakes growing up?”

“No. Mainly pie.”

“Were you a happy boy?”

“Wow. What a question.”

“You don’t have to answer it.”

“I don’t mind.” He paused. “Overall, I was.”

She let that one go. “I like a man who can cook.” She poured some milk into a pot on the stove and stirred.

Boone leaned on the counter and watched.

When the milk steamed, she added the other ingredients, stirred some more, then poured the fragrant liquid into two mugs.

“That smells great,” he said.

“Got any marshmallows?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I like cocoa, too. I’ve just never made the homemade stuff. Now I will.”

“It’s worth it,” she said.

“You want to sit in my study? I’ll turn on the fire. It’s gas in there. It’s always nice to have one room with a quick light up.”

“Especially when we lose power during a storm,” she said.

They sank into a plush dark-green velvet couch.

“I like your books, dear.” Boone’s library was so inviting. The whole house was.

“Thanks.” He took a sip of cocoa. “This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.” She refused to make it easy for him by being a chatterbox.

There was a little lull.

“Thank you for getting us tonight,” he eventually said, then picked up her hand and kissed the back of it.

What a shock. But a delightful one. She smiled tenderly. “It took a tree going through a roof for us to become friends. But I’m so glad it did. I always thought you were a guy worth getting to know.”

When he grinned, the most wonderful crinkles appeared around his eyes. “This supposed disconnect through the generations between the Braddocks and Rogerses is unwarranted.”

Said just like a mayor.

“You think so?” Nana said archly. She knew what he was really saying: he wanted Cissie.

“I
know
so,” he replied, his desire for her granddaughter written all over his face despite his best efforts to be the cool-headed bachelor. No cool-headed bachelor mayor gets into a fistfight with a redneck over a woman he doesn’t desperately want.

“Does that apply to all the Rogerses you know?” she asked.

He stopped short.

Nana laughed. “You’re an adorable shade of red right now,” she said, and patted his hand. “Just remember this: we can’t go back. But we do have the present. Let the Braddocks and Rogerses connect
now
.”

He said nothing to that. Why bother? He knew what she meant: he belonged with Cissie.

The fire crackled, and the wind—that steady mountain wind—grew a little wild as it was wont to do as the night grew chill.

“How I love it here.” Nana took another sip of her cocoa. “Kettle Knob. Whoever would have guessed that a crazy girl like me would stay tied to a tiny little mountain town? But it’s a part of me. I feel my ancestors in that wind. They heard the same whisper. The same howl.”

“I know what you mean.”

She could tell he really did. They sat quietly again, the gas fire glowing bright.

“Why didn’t you go anywhere else?” Nana asked him. “You were a good football player. You had a scholarship, I believe, to NC State.”

“I did.”

“I seem to remember everyone was stirred up about it when you said no on signing day.”

His expression changed subtly. He seemed tense. “I wanted to stay here. Get into the family business.”

“Really?” Nana pulled back slightly. “That doesn’t seem you at all, real estate development, making the big bucks.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No.” She chuckled. “You’re a born leader, obviously, but in another direction, one of service. You mentor. You teach. You protect and inspire.”

“I like how you put that.”

She could tell he did. He sat up a little higher, which touched her heart. Had his parents not praised him? Apparently not. “It turns out you never did follow in your father’s footsteps, did you?”

“I had every intention to,” he said, “but I fell into coaching, and not too long after that, politics.”

“And a splendid job you’ve done with both. Kettle Knob’s thriving. And the high school’s had all winning seasons since you’ve been coach.”

“I work with good people.” He was a humble man, which was quite attractive.

Nana smiled. “I like your life, Boone, looking at it from the outside in. There’s a lot of love and respect for you in this town.”

“I could say the same for you.”

She waved a hand. “Oh, people around here think I’m a little eccentric. But you’re right, I do believe they’re proud of their little theater.” She sat for a moment. “I think Cissie’s running for mayor because she realizes she’s not been reaching anywhere near her full potential. Yes, she participates in church bazaars, helps out at the theater, and runs a lovely little library. But her light has been hidden for too long. And she sees that time’s passing. It’s time for her to come out of her shell. You spurred her on with this decision to move the library.”