“Um, thanks again for not arresting me,” she said.
One corner of the sheriff’s mouth turned up a fraction of an inch, and her nerve endings pricked up as she anticipated getting a whole smile. But then his mouth flattened into a firm line, the good humor leaving as quickly as it’d come. He turned back, assumedly to address Gabe, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Hmm. I’m even more buzzed than I thought. She was returning to her one glass of wine limit from here on out.
Now I’m making plans for all my future drinking. Yeah, Regina, you really are a barrel of monkeys. No wonder Steve got out
while he could.
“What’s with the face?” the sheriff asked.
“What’s with your face?” she countered so she wouldn’t have to explain—and honestly, her outfit should say enough. Spoiler alert: any woman wearing a bridal gown not in a shop, the privacy of her own home, or while standing next to a groom, has had a bad day.
“How do you know Gabe?” Sheriff Haywood asked.
“He was out on the highway hitchhiking, so I gave him a ride into town.”
A scowl creased the sheriff’s face. “You make it a habit of picking up strangers?”
She swung out her arm, toward the spot Gabe previously occupied. “You just offered him a place to stay.”
“Yeah, because he’s not a complete stranger to me, and I’m a big guy who could handle myself if someone attacked me.”
“I have good gut instincts.”
He gave her dress a pointed look, and her jaw dropped for the second time that night. Before she could say anything, he said, “Just … maybe don’t pick up too many hitchhikers. It makes it hard to keep people safe, even if I admire that you’d do something so nice for a stranger.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not your concern most of the time.” She yawned, exhaustion suddenly hitting her hard. Cold was setting in, too, and she wrapped her arms around herself, glad for the jacket.
“Well, here and now you are, and I plan to make sure you have a safe, comfortable place to sleep tonight, so why don’t you get in the car?” The sheriff nudged her inside, shoving the extra layers of her now snow-covered skirt into the car before shutting the door.
Regina put on the seat belt, and as he drove down the road, she leaned back farther in the seat. Her brain told her to pay attention to her surroundings and what was happening, but her eyelids kept drifting closed, and all she vaguely recalled was being carried inside a warm house and laid on a couch. Voices, male and female, and then someone took off her heels and dragged a blanket over the top of her.
She sighed at the comfort, and right before drifting off into that deep, blissful sleep, she swore that a callused hand cupped her cheek, there only for a moment before it was gone.
Chapter Three
The sound of clanging pots and pans jerked Regina awake, forcefully enough that she tumbled to the floor, something binding her legs and keeping her from catching herself. White tulle obscured her vision, along with a few dark curls, and as the scent of coffee invaded her senses, yesterday came screeching back to her. Standing at the front of the church, Steve telling her he couldn’t marry her, driving for hours, a bar and grill with friendly people, drinking way too much, and a very sexy cop.
“You okay?”
The deep voice washed over her, waking up every single cell in her body. She glanced up, wishing she were less of a hot mess and then deciding that ship had sailed last night when she asked if he was going to arrest her.
She attempted to stand but found her legs still inexorably bound, so she flipped the veil off her face—she couldn’t believe she still had it on—and then tugged at the multiple layers of her gown, trying to free herself. “Things are a tad fuzzy. Are we at … your place?” A sober Regina would’ve never agreed to go home with a man she didn’t know, no matter what the circumstances.
“My place.” A blond woman stepped into view and gave a little wave with the spatula in her hand, and Regina experienced an insane moment of jealousy. Of course, he had a gorgeous girlfriend. “I’m Callie—his sister.”
“Oh. Oh.” Crap, had she accidentally revealed her relief? It didn’t mean he didn’t have a girlfriend, and since she was merely driving through town, that didn’t matter anyway. “But you don’t live together?” A weird question, but her brain wasn’t at the top of its game.
“I have a place of my own not far from here,” the sheriff said, his eyebrows knitted together, acknowledging the weirdness of the question.
“So you stayed to watch over me?” A swirl of warmth went through her. For such a gruff guy, that was surprisingly considerate. She had on a dark brown coat with a badge emblem too—his coat. “Because you were worried about me?”
His expression made it clear that not only was she miles from the truth, he definitely thought she was a crazy person. Considering her current situation, she wasn’t sure she could contest that assessment.
Her stomach dropped as dawning hit. “Because you were worried I might be a psycho, and you didn’t want to leave me alone with your sister.” She finally managed to get her skirt untwisted enough to push to her feet.
“You were drinking in a bar while wearing a wedding dress,” he said, and his sister smacked his arm and whispered for him to “Be nice, Emmett.”