Chapter 2
Alice
“Are you sure you want to come straight here? We have no problem pushing until tomorrow if you need some time to rest and freshen up.” My best friend Whitney’s voice flows through the speakers of my car.
I blink the grit from my eyes. “I’m well rested, Whit. I took a shower this morning and everything.”
“You’ve been on the road for three days.”
“And I feel as fresh as a spring tulip.” The leather on the steering wheel creaks beneath my fingers. “The sooner I land this position, the sooner I can settle into my new life.”
“I’m going to do whatever I can to make this easier on you,” she says softly.
I twist the dial to crank the AC. “Are you kidding? This is the best thing to happen to me in ages. I don’t know why I didn’t follow you to Minnesota in the first place. I’m so excited to be close to you and the kids again.”
“Me too.”
“And hey, you now have a built-in babysitter for date nights.”
“I already have a babysitter. You will, however, be joining our book club stat.”
“Give me all the details when I get there. You know how I love a good romance.” Seeing as my sex life is nonexistent, I need to live vicariously through someone, fictional or real.
“I already have an extra copy of the book reserved. And the rental is ready for you. It’s a beautiful property. You’re going to love it.”
“I’m just really glad for a place to crash, even if it is only temporary.”
“Six months is plenty of time to get your feet under you. The whole family will be keeping their eyes out for something more suitable.”
“That must be half the town,” I joke, thinking of her large extended family. Her husband, Jack Powell, has five siblings, all of whom are in serious relationships.
Whitney laughs. “There are only ten of us. Eleven if you count Nancy. Twelve if you include Cortney, but she’s technically a Stone, not a Powell. The town is small, but it’s not that small.”
My mind wanders to my one and only other visit this far up north, and I shudder. “Well, to an outsider, it sure felt like you know everyone in that town.”
“Let’s just say the Powells are very involved here. It doesn’t have to be like that for you if you’d rather keep to yourself.”
“Noted.” I grin at the windshield. “If you can find me a place to go line dancing, I’ll be all set.”
The whirr of the air-conditioning fills the gap in conversation.
“You’re going to miss it, aren’t you? Home that is.”
“What? No. No, I’m fine. I’ll miss Archie, that’s for sure.
He sure knows how to spin a girl around a dance floor, but that’s it.
Arizona was so hot and dry and…” I grasp for something else to convince her this is the best decision for me without divulging too much.
I haven’t exactly told her the reason for my relocation, aside from my lease being up, which is technically true. I settle with, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. I can hardly believe you’re almost here.”
“I’ll be pulling up before you know it.”
“You have the address?”
“My GPS is taking me straight there.”
“Okay! I’ll let Cortney know. You’re really doing everyone a big favor, and they’re excited to meet you.”
Before I can answer, a shrieking cry sounds through the line.
“That’s my cue to go. Soren is into everything these days.”
“Give him a kiss from Auntie Alice, and I’ll see you soon.”
“Good luck! I can’t wait to hear how it goes.”
“You know me. I’ll charm the pants off them and make a good impression for you.”
“Just be yourself. They’ll love you.”
Soren screeches insistently again. “Okay, got to run. Call me after.”
“Bye.”
A quick tap on the dashboard ends the call. I check the GPS. I have about twenty-five minutes left until I reach my destination. Whitney has a family friend who is in urgent need of a nanny, and I just so happen to be excellent with kids.
Win-freaking-win.
The sun feels great on my face as I drive down the highway.
It’s not the blistering heat I’m used to.
Just warm enough to keep me content. I’m grateful this sudden trip across the country happened during the warmer months.
I need a little time to get used to my move before I experience my first true Minnesota winter.
I’ve heard the horror stories, and I’m not sure my cactus or I are ready to survive the icy cold.
Winter has its benefits. I’ve heard crime is down in the colder months. Maybe that applies to podcasters with a penchant for stalking too.
I push away thoughts of the package and the phone calls. I left it all back in Arizona. Metaphorically, in the prison cell with my brother, where it all belongs. His mess isn’t mine to clean up. It never was.
With my hand halfway to the radio dial, a flash of red and blue decorates my rearview.
“Oh no,” I mutter. “I’d better get out of his way.” I ease the car onto the shoulder, giving the officer plenty of room to pass.
Uh. The cruiser pulling to a slow stop behind me is rather unexpected.
I stab the window button, watching as it lowers.
Leaning slightly out, I paste on a bubbly smile.
The sight of the wall of muscle approaching nearly has me choking on my tongue.
Holy shit. No wonder why Whitney moved here and fell in love.
I think this might be the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
He’s tall, with a warm tan spanning over hard-earned muscles—at least from what I can see of his arms. His dark hair is threaded with sexy streaks of silver and he has a matching salted trimmed beard.
“Hi! You must be the welcome committee because I know I wasn’t speeding.”
The dark glasses covering his eyes give nothing away. “License and insurance.”
“Oh, um.” A glance to my right reveals a mountain of a mess. The black strap of my purse sticks out from the top. “Here it is. I’m in the middle of moving, and things are a little disorganized.”
The officer doesn’t twitch at my grin or my rambling monologue. His expression remains unreadable.
“Hang on.”
Three tangled chargers come out of the top of my bag. I toss them onto the passenger seat. Next is Bert, my cactus, my little slice of the desert I couldn’t leave behind. I carefully relocate him to the dash.
The officer beside me gives an impatient sigh.
“License,” he repeats.
I decide then not to mention the granola bar I just found that I’ve been missing since yesterday's lunch. I’m going to scarf that down before my interview. While avoiding his gaze, I carefully slide it onto the dash next to Bert for safekeeping and continue my search.
“Here it is!” I triumphantly hold out my license and a curled insurance card.
“Stay put,” he orders before returning to his cruiser.
“Yes, sir,” I mutter under my breath and open up my snack.
Halfway through, the heavy scrape of footsteps signals his return.
“Step out of the vehicle.”
“Am I in trouble?” Crumbs fall onto my shirt. I gather my purse, my half-eaten granola bar, and my tiny cactus and push open the door.
He steps back just far enough to avoid getting hit.
“I can’t imagine I did anything arrestable.”
Only once the words leave my mouth do I notice the pair of silver cuffs glinting in his large hand.
“Sorry, am I… Wait… Those are your—”
“You’re under arrest.” His voice is monotone.
I nearly drop my cactus. “Really?” I breathe. The sun stings my wide eyes. I set my purse by my feet, safely tuck in my cactus, and shove the remaining granola bar into my mouth. “This is exciting. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be arrested.”
That’s not entirely true. Not after witnessing my brother’s ordeal. But I know I haven’t done anything close to felonious and Whitney is a short phone call away, so I might as well enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I swear he groans.
“How do you want me?” I move my hands to the small of my back. “Front or back? Do I have to assume the position? Am I getting frisked?”
He grunts in response.
The metal closes around my wrists with a definite click. “Not too bad. A little snug. I suppose that’s how you keep the actual criminals under control. Do these come in pink?”
“Do you have anything in your pockets?”
I jut out my hip. “I don’t even have pockets. Apparently, designers have decided they’re optional on women's clothing. Do you remember those old wide-leg jeans? Of course you do. Your hair is gray. Those pockets used to go down to my knees. I could fit an entire CD player in there.”
Officer Smiley begins his pat-down procedure. He skims his fingers a little harshly against my thigh.
“Ooh, be careful there, big guy. That’s my insulin pod, and if you rip that out, I might actually die.”
Peeling back the hem of my shorts, I reveal the device attached to my leg.
“Not immediately, of course. But depending on how long this takes, I’ll eventually run out of insulin since my pancreas doesn’t actually work.”
The frisk ends abruptly. Granted, there isn’t much room to hide anything in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
I scoop up my purse at my feet and squint up at Officer Smiley. My neck cracks as I tilt my head back. He has to be over six-foot, six-foot-one. “Has anyone ever told you you’re really tall?”
He holds out his hand. “Can’t take that in back with you.”
“This just keeps getting better. You’re treating me to the full experience.” I hand over my bag.
He snatches the purse from my fingers before I can blink.
“Hey! Be careful of Bert!”
The officer tilts his head. He shakes it off and escorts me to the back of his car. “What is a Bert?”
“Bert is my tiny cactus. He’s fragile but really low maintenance once he gets settled.” I lift a shoulder and let it drop. “Like me.”
The officer lets out an aggressive cough.
“Are you okay?” I stop suddenly and turn to face him. A red hue spreads across his cheeks just above that sexy salted beard.
“Fine,” he grunts, swinging open the back door of the cruiser. His knuckles blanche white where he grips the top of the door. “Get in.”
I glance at the hard, pale plastic masquerading as a seat and turn my body toward the cop.
“Before I climb in and you lock me inside, I want you to know that I know this is just some bureaucratic nonsense, and you’re just doing your job.
” I let my eyes trail down his strong body encased in the dark blue uniform.
He looks really good in that uniform. “You’re very good at it.
I’m sure you scare the crap out of real criminals. ”
His gaze remains pointed across the top of the car, but the twitch in his jaw reveals he heard me.
“I’ll write a positive review to your supervisor.
” I hop into the back and slide onto the seat.
The hard plastic doesn’t bite as much as I thought it would, and I recline my head and close my eyes.
This is the first time in three days I’ve been in a car, and not the one driving.
A catnap sounds like the perfect way to take advantage.
“Crap!” I startle. My heart rate climbs tens of beats as Office Smiley leans around me and fastens a seat belt without warning.
The scent of something masculine, whether it be his aftershave, cologne, or deodorant, infiltrates the cramped back seat, and I’m reminded that it’s been a long time since I’ve been around a good-smelling man.
Archie doesn’t count. He strictly wears Old Spice.
Archie smells like a grandpa. This man smells like romantic candles and a bubble bath and the sweat after a job well done.
My stomach flips in agreement.
“Wow.” The word slips through my loose lips.
His forearm tenses as he snaps the buckle into place, highlighting a ridge of muscle across the back, and he withdraws his hand with a speed required for avoiding an open flame.
I barely register the slam of his door before we’re peeling off the gravel shoulder and racing into town, leaving my car in the dust.
“What is it I’m being detained for? I don’t think you said.”
“Suspended license.”
I chew the inside of my lip. “Huh.”
Those dark shades hide his eyes, but I feel his gaze in the rearview.
“Can’t you just give me a warning?”
“I don’t make the policy,” he mutters.
I nod along. “But you would if you could. See? I knew you were one of the good ones.”
“Most people choose silence when they’ve been arrested.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I like to think of myself as memorable.”
“You’re something.”
I sit back with a satisfied smile and enjoy the rest of the ride.