They picked up a few more stray cups on their way out of the park, opting for dropping them into the bin instead of shooting them inside.
Without Emmett’s heat at her back, the icy air cut through all her layers, and she tugged her borrowed coat tighter around her. She went ahead and added another scarf coil around the lower part of her face because maybe that’d keep her from thinking about silly things like what it’d feel like to press her lips to the sheriff’s.
They walked mostly in silence, the majority of the talking done by people they bumped into on the sidewalk. After parting ways with another pair who’d stopped to inquire about their evening and wish them a good night, Regina said, “Um, you might want to vouch for me, because everyone we pass is studying me super closely.”
“Correction, they’re studying us closely. And I’m not sure I know you well enough to vouch for you.”
As tended to happen around him, her jaw dropped. She made an offended noise and smacked his arm.
“For one, you go around hitting the sheriff,” he said with a chuckle. Both of them slowed their pace as the Cozy Cottage came into view. Mere minutes ago, she wanted to hurry and get there so she could lock herself in her room. Perhaps take a hot bath and see if she could get feeling back in her extremities. But now she wanted to slow down again. Her emotions really needed to make up their mind.
Logic said this guy was dangerous—when it came to her already beaten-up heart anyway. And she was only here temporarily. And a hundred other “ands.”
Emmett walked her all the way to the front porch and then braced his hand on the beam next to her.
“One more citizen delivered safe and sound,” she said, her voice slightly breathy, and not from the walk or the cold. “You deserve a gold star. Oh, wait. You’ve already got one.”
He bit back his smile.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Refuse to smile. The only full smile I’ve seen was at your sister’s. And don’t act like you’re not holding it back, because I’m hilarious.”
“You do look kinda funny in that scarf.”
She shoved his solid chest, and he chuckled, his laugh and corresponding smile subdued but there. Then his brown eyes landed on hers. “Maybe I forgot how.” When she aimed a skeptical expression his way, he added, “It’s not easy walking the right line between friendly and stern. Going overboard on the stern is better than everyone thinking they can take advantage of the friendly.”
“But Fern said you’ve been grouchier lately.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have started this line of questioning, but she couldn’t help herself. Even as she told herself to tread carefully, she wanted to know more. “Is there a reason for that?”
“Besides the fact that there’s an event every night, and at each one of those, someone will park in the wrong space, or think they should have special privileges, or a hundred other … what did you call them? First World problems?”
“Yes, besides that.”
“Not sure. Just haven’t felt like myself.” His gaze dipped to her mouth for the briefest second. “But tonight’s been the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
She leaned closer and toyed with the edges of his jacket. He should zip it up. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t too cold, but she liked that she could peek at the form-fitted shirt under the layers. Before tonight, she might’ve claimed a man in uniform didn’t affect her. “Does that mean I get a full smile?”
“Not yet,” he said, a slight curve to his lips. “But maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll see one eventually.”
“Oh, I’ll get one out of you yet.”
“Good night, Regina.” Even though he’d wished her goodbye, he didn’t move, his palm still braced by her head. Now she was the one staring at lips—his, obviously.
Nope, the scarf didn’t stop thoughts of kissing him. It did help her from following through though. “Good night, Emmett.”
He closed his eyes, so fleetingly she almost thought she imagined it, and his fingers lightly brushed her cheekbone as he pushed back, turned, and walked back the way they’d come.
Chapter Five
“So, we couldn’t help noticing you spent most of the time at the tree lighting ceremony with the sheriff,” Fern said Monday morning, pulling a chair away from the table in the living room of the B&B and plopping herself into it.
“And that he walked you home,” Marge, the woman who’d given her the giant scarf, added.
While Regina kept her attention on the breakfast pl
ate in front of her, she was no longer worried about her lack of personal space. She was quickly learning that didn’t exist here in Friendship. She sipped her orange juice, taking her sweet time as she calculated how to respond. “He was just being a gentleman.”