gun?”
“Gun?”
“The one you threatened to shoot me with this afternoon if I didn’t get off your dock.”
“I didn’t—my father probably took it when...I don’t know where...It wasn’t loaded.”
“What is this, multiple choice?”
She glared at him.
“Are you sure there
was
a gun?”
“Good night, Mr. Beaumont,” she repeated through clenched teeth.
“What’s all this?”
Ty’s attention had been attracted to the table, where several sketch pads were spread out. The pencil sketches were, for the most part, unfinished.
Sunny sighed heavily, making no effort to conceal her annoyance. She slammed the open front door closed because it was letting mosquitoes in. “Drawings.”
“Bugs?” he asked, holding up one of her sketches and eyeing it critically.
“It’s a dragonfly.”
“Dragonflies again. Are they your hobby or something? You’re not a very good artist,” he remarked candidly.
She yanked the sketch away from him and returned it to the table. “And you’re not a very good sheriff. You don’t even wear a uniform.”
He was dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt, which looked anything but plain on him. The sleeves were rolled up his forearms to just below his elbows. The white cotton set off his deep tan and piercing blue eyes. It even matched the smile he flashed down at her.
“But I’ve got a silver badge and a patrol car with flashing lights. If you’re nice I’ll take you for a ride in it sometime.”
“I doubt that being nice would win a woman any points with you, Mr. Beaumont.”
He tipped his head toward her as though to say, “Score one for you.” Still, his smile wasn’t one of contrition. He had almost reached the door when he stopped abruptly, snapped his fingers, and said, “Oops, forgot my flashlight.” He retraced his steps into the kitchen.
Sunny waited by the front door. What was taking so long? she wondered when a minute passed and he didn’t reappear. “Mr. Beaumont?” she called. Nothing. Impatiently, she tapped her bare foot against the floor.
Another minute went by and he still didn’t come back. Curious and vexed, Sunny went into the kitchen after him. She found him leaning against the countertop studying his wristwatch.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Come here,” he said, keeping his eyes on the face of his watch.
Intrigued, she padded over to the counter and joined him in watching his wristwatch. It wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, certainly nothing so captivating as to absorb him this way. The second hand was sweeping its way up toward the twelve.
“Five, four, three, two, one,” Ty said, counting down.
“So? What does that mean?”
“That means, Sunny Chandler, that you’re in serious trouble.”
He turned, and by doing so, pinned her in the corner where the cabinets met and blocked off her escape with his body. He braced his hands on both sides of her hips and leaned into her. “It’s midnight.”
“Is this where you turn back into a rat?”
He laughed. “In a manner of speaking. I’m officially off duty.”
She glowered at his grinning face. “Get away from me.”
“Ah, come on, Sunny. Be a sport.” He took a strand of her hair between his fingers and whisked it back and forth across her neck. “I just got off work after a hard day. I had to break up a fight between two dads at the Little League ballgame, track down a lost kid, and arrest a guy for DWI. Not to mention patrolling the riotous streets of Latham Green and rescuing a hysterical woman from a herd of raccoons. Or is it a pack of raccoons?” He shrugged. “Anyway, you get my drift. It’s time to play. Don’t you want to play with me?”
“No. And will you—” Her sentence ended on a gasp of surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Feeling your heart.” He laid his hand over the top curve of her breast. “When I came in, I could see your pulse pounding. Here.” He pressed her breast. “And here.” He settled his lips
“Gun?”
“The one you threatened to shoot me with this afternoon if I didn’t get off your dock.”
“I didn’t—my father probably took it when...I don’t know where...It wasn’t loaded.”
“What is this, multiple choice?”
She glared at him.
“Are you sure there
was
a gun?”
“Good night, Mr. Beaumont,” she repeated through clenched teeth.
“What’s all this?”
Ty’s attention had been attracted to the table, where several sketch pads were spread out. The pencil sketches were, for the most part, unfinished.
Sunny sighed heavily, making no effort to conceal her annoyance. She slammed the open front door closed because it was letting mosquitoes in. “Drawings.”
“Bugs?” he asked, holding up one of her sketches and eyeing it critically.
“It’s a dragonfly.”
“Dragonflies again. Are they your hobby or something? You’re not a very good artist,” he remarked candidly.
She yanked the sketch away from him and returned it to the table. “And you’re not a very good sheriff. You don’t even wear a uniform.”
He was dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt, which looked anything but plain on him. The sleeves were rolled up his forearms to just below his elbows. The white cotton set off his deep tan and piercing blue eyes. It even matched the smile he flashed down at her.
“But I’ve got a silver badge and a patrol car with flashing lights. If you’re nice I’ll take you for a ride in it sometime.”
“I doubt that being nice would win a woman any points with you, Mr. Beaumont.”
He tipped his head toward her as though to say, “Score one for you.” Still, his smile wasn’t one of contrition. He had almost reached the door when he stopped abruptly, snapped his fingers, and said, “Oops, forgot my flashlight.” He retraced his steps into the kitchen.
Sunny waited by the front door. What was taking so long? she wondered when a minute passed and he didn’t reappear. “Mr. Beaumont?” she called. Nothing. Impatiently, she tapped her bare foot against the floor.
Another minute went by and he still didn’t come back. Curious and vexed, Sunny went into the kitchen after him. She found him leaning against the countertop studying his wristwatch.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Come here,” he said, keeping his eyes on the face of his watch.
Intrigued, she padded over to the counter and joined him in watching his wristwatch. It wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, certainly nothing so captivating as to absorb him this way. The second hand was sweeping its way up toward the twelve.
“Five, four, three, two, one,” Ty said, counting down.
“So? What does that mean?”
“That means, Sunny Chandler, that you’re in serious trouble.”
He turned, and by doing so, pinned her in the corner where the cabinets met and blocked off her escape with his body. He braced his hands on both sides of her hips and leaned into her. “It’s midnight.”
“Is this where you turn back into a rat?”
He laughed. “In a manner of speaking. I’m officially off duty.”
She glowered at his grinning face. “Get away from me.”
“Ah, come on, Sunny. Be a sport.” He took a strand of her hair between his fingers and whisked it back and forth across her neck. “I just got off work after a hard day. I had to break up a fight between two dads at the Little League ballgame, track down a lost kid, and arrest a guy for DWI. Not to mention patrolling the riotous streets of Latham Green and rescuing a hysterical woman from a herd of raccoons. Or is it a pack of raccoons?” He shrugged. “Anyway, you get my drift. It’s time to play. Don’t you want to play with me?”
“No. And will you—” Her sentence ended on a gasp of surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Feeling your heart.” He laid his hand over the top curve of her breast. “When I came in, I could see your pulse pounding. Here.” He pressed her breast. “And here.” He settled his lips
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