Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
A spen stared at her blank laptop screen, her tea cooling beside her. It was so blank that the white was blinding her.
Maybe she needed to change genre. Maybe romance just wasn’t her jam anymore. She could try horror. That would be a nice one-eighty from romance. Or maybe a good crime mystery where the woman murders her ex for doing something really terrible. She’d get away with it, of course. In fact, she’d outsmart everyone and live off his life insurance on a beach in Hawaii.
A small smile played at Aspen’s lips. Now that was a story she felt motivated to write.
Although she’d need to find an entirely new reader base because she wasn’t sure her current romance-loving fans would want to read about a murderous feminist. And she didn’t actually know a lot about the genre, so she’d need a whole new marketing plan.
She dropped her head onto the table. This sucked. Big gonna-need-to-find-a-new-job-soon kind of suck.
“Still having trouble with the story, honey?”
She shot up to see Mrs. Gerald beside the table. God, she’d complained so much to the café owner, the woman was basically her therapist. “I think I’m having a midlife crisis.”
“You’re too young for that.” She set a slice of pie beside Aspen’s laptop. “I brought you some apple pie, on the house, because you look like you need it.”
Oh, she definitely needed pie. It smelled good too. And that lightly browned pastry with the side of cream kind of made her salivate. She’d been meaning to try the pie since first stepping into this place.
“Thank you. But I’m not even sure pie can fix this one.”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned in my seventy years, it’s that very few things are so dire they can’t be fixed with pie. Maybe the sugar hit will help you get some words on the page.”
“Good words?”
“The best ones you’ve written.”
She gave a small smile. “I hope you’re right. Thank you again for the pie, but I am paying for it.”
“Absolutely not. Besides, I don’t know how much longer my little shop will be in business.”
Aspen straightened. “Why’s that?”
“Not enough business. Unless things pick up, I’m afraid I’m down to my last few months.”
Aspen’s heart gave a sad little kick. “What can I do?”
“You’re already doing it by coming and drinking my tea every day.” The older woman gave her a small smile before heading away from the table.
There were a couple of people at The Tea House today. An elderly man at the counter and an elderly couple in the booth by the window, having what looked like a high tea. No one remotely close to her age.
This was probably the busiest Aspen had seen it, so she shouldn’t be surprised Mrs. Gerald might need to close. But it still hurt. She came here almost every day. It had become her sanctuary, and Mrs. Gerald her sounding board.
She sipped her tea. She’d chosen wild lavender today. It wasn’t too bad. It did kind of taste like she was drinking a flower, but it beat the coffee.
She lifted the fork. Lordy lordy, the pie looked and smelled delicious. Or maybe that was her starving belly talking. She’d run out of the house so fast this morning she hadn’t grabbed anything to eat.
The starving belly was worth it though, to save her from running into Jesse and having the awkward “how was the date?” conversation.
A date. He’d been on a date . Why was that so hard to accept? He was young, fit, with the best dimples she’d ever seen. Of course he was dating.
He’d gotten home shortly after her and insisted again that it hadn’t been a date. Something about a guy from work setting him up with a woman from yoga? Honestly, even if he had been set up, the woman was gorgeous. Exactly the kind of woman someone like him should date.
Plus, as Aspen had told him, she wasn’t ready to date. And she’d never expect him to wait for her. That would be silly and selfish.
So why did the image of him sitting at an intimate corner table with a beautiful woman still make her want to scratch her own eyes out?
She put a huge forkful of pie into her mouth.
Holy hell in a handbasket. It was phenomenal. An explosion of flavors in her mouth and easily the best pie she’d ever had. A mixture of blueberries and apple. And the pastry…it was buttery soft, like a small drop of heaven on her tongue.
Mrs. Gerald was marketing this place all wrong. It shouldn’t be The Tea House. It should be The Best Pies in Montana House. Heck, the best in America.
She shoved another gigantic forkful of pie into her mouth as a shadow suddenly loomed over her table. A huge shadow.
“Hungry?”
She looked way up into Jesse’s chocolate-brown eyes and almost choked on the food in her mouth. “What are you doing here?” Or that was what she’d tried to say, but the words were mashed up between dough and apple.
Jesse chuckled as he lowered into the booth opposite her. “I’m not due to start my shift for another hour, and this place was on the way, so thought I’d pop in and check on you. I missed you this morning.”
Missed her as in didn’t see her? Or missed her , missed her?
She swallowed the pie. “I wanted to get an early start.”
He nodded, looking at her laptop. “How’s it going?”
Oh, about as well as a steam train with a broken motor . “Good. I think I’m really going to make some progress today.”
Liar .
He gave her one of those knowing smiles. Yeah, he totally knew she was lying.
“So…last night—”
“We already spoke about your date. We don’t need to rehash it. It’s your business.”
“I told you it wasn’t a date.”
She lifted a brow. “Intimate corner table at a restaurant with a beautiful woman in a sexy dress? That’s a date, regardless of who set it up.”
Mrs. Gerald stopped beside their table. “Cappuccino.”
Jesse smiled up at her. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a slice of pie with it? I have some fresh apple and blueberry this morning.”
Jesse put a hand over his flat stomach. “Just ate. But thank you.”
The second Mrs. Gerald left, Aspen leaned forward and hissed, “You got coffee?”
“Yeah, I don’t drink tea, and I haven’t tried the coffee here before. Maybe this will be the first good cup in Amber Ridge.”
“I wouldn’t—”
He choked on his first sip. “Oh, God, what is this? It tastes like battery acid.”
“Yeah, it’s bad. Worse than everywhere else in this town, which is saying something. I’m becoming quite accustomed to tea.”
He wrinkled his nose.
She pushed the pie across the table. “Here, try this. It will cleanse your palate.”
“I’m not—”
“Try it. Trust me.”
He held her gaze for a full second before lifting her fork and scooping some pie into his mouth.
Her lower belly did a little flutter. Why was that so hot? Because he’d used her fork? Or because there was something incredibly sexy about his mouth?
Probably both.
His gaze shot to the pie. “Jesus, that’s good.”
“ Right ? It’s amazing.” She took the fork from his fingers and ate some more.
“So…last night.”
Oh man, were they still on that?
“I was supposed to be meeting Luke from work,” Jesse continued. “He sent her instead.”
“I know. You told me. I still don’t understand why.”
“Because he’s an interfering asshole.”
She lowered her gaze to the pie. “She was pretty.”
“She was.”
Aspen’s stomach dropped, even though there shouldn’t be any reason for it to do so.
“But the person I’m interested in is beautiful .”
Her gaze flew up, every inch of her skin tingling.
“You should date whoever you want,” she said quickly.
“It’s not her.”
Her skin went from cool to hot and clammy in a matter of seconds.
Not dating, Aspen. Not. Dating.
Jesse lifted his coffee and cringed on his second sip. “Christ, it just keeps getting worse.”
“Yeah, there’s a real aftertaste there.”
She wet her lips, and his gaze immediately lowered.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Okay, well…I should work. I’m determined to have a good writing day today.” She was just lowering her gaze to the screen when her phone lit up from the table. She lifted it and cringed.
Jesse leaned forward. “Who is it?”
“No one.”
“Is it him? I thought you blocked him.”
“I did. It’s Mom. She wants me to talk to him. She’s decided he can’t possibly be the bad guy in all this, that it must be me.” She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
Jesse’s eyes narrowed. Because he knew it was another lie. It wasn’t nothing. She’d blocked his number and now her mother was texting. And every text was like a little reminder from the universe that she’d chosen wrong with Dylan. That sometimes people made you think they were right for you when they really, really weren’t.
Jesse pulled into the parking lot outside the sheriff’s station. His fingers were tight around the wheel, but he couldn’t loosen them.
That asshole ex of hers was still trying to connect to her, this time through her mother.
Images of him grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the bar in Misty Peak made his back teeth grind together. Obviously, Dylan hadn’t gotten the damn message when she’d moved to the other side of the country.
He climbed out of the car and slammed the door.
When he stepped into the station, Bea looked up from the front desk. “Hi, Jesse. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just need some good coffee.” Why no business in this town could sell a good cup of coffee, he had no idea.
He headed down the hall. In the kitchen, Luke looked up from the table, a huge fucking grin spreading across his face that did nothing to improve Jesse’s mood.
“Morning, stud. Have a good night with April?”
Jesse loaded coffee into the coffee machine. “You’re an asshole.”
Luke’s smile fell. “Most men would be dropping to their knees and worshiping me for setting them up with a woman like her.”
“I told you I didn’t want to be set up on a date.”
“Yeah, but that was before you saw her.”
“I saw her. I still don’t want to date her.” He opened the cupboard. One clean mug left…the fucking breasts mug.
Goddammit .
He slammed it closed, grabbed a dirty mug from the dishwasher and washed it in the sink.
Luke’s chair scraped against the floor. “Whoa. Someone’s grumpy. Let me guess, she didn’t put out.”
“How old are you?”
“Old enough to know that one night with her and you’d be a lot happier.”
“Yeah, and I’m old enough to tell you that if you ever pull shit like that again, you’ll be on desk duty for a month.”
Luke straightened. “You can’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Try me.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “You know what? I think your roommate’s holding out on you and you’re taking your frustrations out on me.”
When his coffee was ready, he lifted the mug and headed toward the door. “Nope. But I am frustrated with you.”
Luke muttered something, but Jesse ignored it. He reached his office and settled behind the desk. On his first sip of coffee, his eyes closed.
Shit, that was good. And necessary.
He was about to log onto his computer when his cell rang, the name of his best friend—also his former Ghost Ops teammate—on the screen.
A smile curved his lips as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Holden. It’s been too long.”
“It has. Thought I’d check in on how everything’s going being the big guy around town.”
“You mean sheriff? Not too glamorous, I’m afraid. Usually, I’m snowed under in emails and paperwork.”
“Lucky you love being stuck at a desk.”
His friend knew he hated that. “Trouble usually hits at some point.”
“Trouble? In the small town of Amber Ridge? Ah, you mean stopping Mrs. Allen from clubbing poor Pete over the head with her walking stick for driving too fast.”
Jesse’s lips twitched because it was so damn accurate. Pete was Burt’s nephew, and also the pizzeria delivery driver. He was notorious for zipping around town and breaking the speed limit. Mrs. Allen was notorious for clubbing people with her walking stick when she got angry…which was often.
Holden knew all of that because he’d spent a lot of holidays here with his family.
“I’d take that over paperwork right now,” Jesse finally said.
Holden laughed.
“When are you coming down here next?”
Holden cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s kind of what I’m calling about. I want to run an idea by you.”
“Shoot.”
“How would you feel about me moving to Amber Ridge?”
Jesse’s brows shot up. “Uh…I’d fucking love it.”
“Good. Because Minnesota’s not really feeling like home anymore, and I can do my woodwork anywhere.”
Jesse grinned. “Get your ass over here then.”
“Great. Plus, I’m missing your mom’s cooking.”
“And my pretty face?”
“Every damn day.”
Jesse chuckled. “Remember though, the coffee’s shit.”
“Oh, I remember. I’ll keep you updated then.”
“Sounds good.”
Jesse hung up, the first real smile stretching his mouth since leaving The Tea House.
Even though he’d been close to his entire Ghost Ops team, he and Holden had always been closest. It would be good to have him here.
He logged on to his computer to see what he’d missed from the night shift. A couple of noise complaints. A domestic dispute. That was it.
He spent the next hour trying to concentrate and get his head into what he was doing. It didn’t work. All he could think about was Aspen. About that text she’d received about Dylan. A text she wouldn’t read to him.
Ten more minutes, and he still couldn’t get his head into work.
Fuck it.
He lifted his phone and sent a text to Aspen.
Jesse: What’s his last name?
The three dots appeared almost immediately, then her text.
Aspen: What are you talking about? Did that coffee mess with your brain cells?
Jesse: Dylan. What’s his last name?
There was a pause. Then the three dots popped up and disappeared. Then they popped up again and disappeared. That happened three times before her text finally came through.
Aspen: Why?
Jesse: Because I want to do a background check on him.
Aspen: Are you allowed to do that?
Jesse: Just tell me his last name. Please.
Aspen: No.
Jesse: Why?
Aspen: Because he’s on the other side of the country, so there’s no point.
Jesse: It doesn’t matter if I look into him then.
Another pause in replies.
Jesse: Please. I promise, all I’m going to do is a background check.
Aspen: Will he know?
Why did she care about that? What did she think he’d do if he found out?
Jesse: No.
Aspen: Bollard. His name is Dylan Bollard.
Jesse: Thank you. Now go back to your writing.
Aspen: And you go back to sheriffing this town instead of looking up random guys.
Dylan wasn’t random. He was an ex who couldn’t move the fuck on.
Jesse looked up just as Claudia was passing his office.
Perfect timing.
“Claudia,” he called. She was a deputy, and the best they had at digging up information.
She turned back and stepped inside. “Hey, Sheriff.”
“Just Jesse. I need you to do a background check on someone for me.”
“Sure.”
Jesse wrote down Dylan’s name and the town he lived in. If there was something to find, Claudia would find it. “Thanks.”
She took the paper. “No problem. I’ll let you know when I have any information.”
She left the office, and a part of him hoped she didn’t find anything. That Dylan turned out to be a normal guy who had a problem letting go of his ex and who’d disappear soon enough.
But another part of him had a strong fucking feeling that wasn’t going to happen.