A Sheriff in Tennessee by Lori Handeland

have nothing worth stealing.”
    Belle raised her eyebrows as she entered the cool, dark interior of his home. He was right. There wasvery little inside worth stealing. No stereo, no VCR, no television, not even a CD player graced the living room, and there was no computer in sight. Maybe he kept his electronics upstairs.
    But she had to say, the lack of ultramodern conveniences did not detract from the beauty of the place. Though the outside looked untidy, the inside was fresh, clean and remodeled.
    The walls of the living room were a muted white, the furniture navy-blue leather, the coffee tables chrome and glass. They definitely had not come with the house.
    The entryway had been painted to resemble fading redbrick. She reached out and touched the walls. They were even rough like brick. That must have taken hours—she followed the design all the way up along the curving oak banister to the second level—make that days to accomplish.
    Unaware that Belle stood in the hall with her mouth hanging open, Klein strode ahead of her toward the back of the house. The place was quiet; it felt deserted.
    â€œYou live alone?” she called.
    â€œNope.” Klein kept on walking. “I live with Clint.”
    Relief washed over her. No wife, no girlfriend, no kids—just the gun-shy hound dog and the sad-eyed man. Belle told herself her relief merely stemmed from knowing that a wife or a girlfriend, even kids, would not be happy to let Gabe Klein spend two weeks in her company, but deep down she knew better. Belle hurried to keep up with him, glancing into rooms along the way.
    The kitchen had a Formica table, which might have been left from older days, except that the entire room had been remodeled like a fifties diner. Across the hall was a library—all four walls covered with black chrome bookcases filled with books. In the center sat a giant bean bag chair and a funky reading lamp.
    She’d never seen so many books together outside of a public library. Had Klein read them all? The possibility only made her feel more inadequate.
    Belle glanced away from the books just as Klein disappeared through a door at the end of the hall. She hurried after him, nearly slamming into his back when she came through the door. Leaning over a sink, he peered into the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, then glanced over his shoulder.
    â€œTake a seat.”
    Belle looked around. They stood together in a half bath, and the only seat was one she didn’t plan to take with Klein in the room.
    â€œI’ll stand.”
    He shrugged, and the movement of his wide shoulders so close to her nose made Belle realize how small the room was. She stepped away, and her back bumped the door casing. The place just wasn’t made for a man of his size and anyone else, let alone a woman who might be slim but had never been small.
    â€œSuit yourself.” He returned his attention to the medicine cabinet and snatched out a white tube. “The only antiseptic I’ve got is going to sting.”
    â€œI’ll live.”
    He muttered something she couldn’t quite catch,but she didn’t ask him to repeat himself. She had an idea that anything he muttered she really didn’t want to hear.
    â€œScoot up on this.” He patted the smooth expanse of ceramic around the sink.
    Avocado green and gold, this room obviously had not been visited by the remodeling fairy—unless of course she had a penchant for seventies chic. Belle really couldn’t see anyone purposely decorating a room with avocado velvet wallpaper. She shuddered.
    Klein’s sharp blue eyes pinned her. “Cold?”
    â€œNo.”
    She didn’t want to insult him, just in case he planned on leaving the room like this, so she didn’t elaborate. Inching past his large body to get to the chipped gold vanity, she was unable to prevent her breasts from brushing his wide chest. Belle gritted her teeth to keep another shudder, of a