Stranger In His Arms

“One of them studio portrait types.” Raylene assumed a pose. “You know, a glamour shot. I always meant to have mine done over in Asheville, but shoot, now I’m too damn old.”

Jennifer gripped her coffee mug and tried to hang on to her shattered nerves. “Whose picture was it?”

Raylene shrugged. “He said a name, but I didn’t recognize it. He wanted to know if I’d ever seen the woman.”

Jennifer was having trouble breathing. “Had you?”

The waitress shook her head. “Nope. But she sure did favor you. ’Cept her hair was long, straight and red and she had a ton more freckles than you do.”

Jennifer forced herself to ask the next question. “What did you tell him?”

“Said I’d never seen the woman.”

Jennifer attempted to hide her relief. “Why was he looking for her?”

“Said she was some long-lost relative his ailing grandmother wanted to see before she died—but he was lying through his teeth.”

“How could you tell?”

“Honey, I’ve spent my whole life around men. I can spot a liar a mile off.” Raylene swirled coffee in her cup. “He was hard-looking, big and tough, with a face that never smiled. Looked like he’d as soon spit on you as speak. That kinda man don’t do no favor for his old grandma.”

“Did he show anyone else the picture?”

Raylene shook her head. “I told him I saw everyone who came and went in Casey’s Cove. If I hadn’t seen her, nobody had. He just climbed in his big ol’ black SUV and hauled buggy.”

Jennifer couldn’t swallow. Grover’s tasty omelet had turned to ashes in her mouth. She pushed her plate away.

“That wasn’t you, was it?” Raylene eyed the barely touched food, then focused on Jennifer, her heavily mascaraed eyes filled with concern. “You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you, hon?”

Jennifer pulled the plate back, picked up her fork, and compelled herself to smile. “Not me. You can ask Officer Dylan Blackburn. He ran all kinds of background checks on me when Miss Bessie hired me.”

Raylene leaned back in the booth with a sigh of relief, apparently satisfied with the explanation. She grinned. “So you’ve met our Dylan?”

Jennifer breathed easier with the change of subject. “The day I arrived.”

Raylene pursed her lips and shook her head. “He’s a heartbreaker, that one. He’s got every unmarried woman in the cove making cow-eyes over him.”

“I’m surprised a man that good-looking isn’t already taken,” Jennifer said.

“Dylan’s a real straight arrow,” Raylene said in the conspiratorial voice she used when imparting her juiciest gossip. “Has zero tolerance for liars, cheats and lawbreakers.”

Jennifer winced inwardly. Raylene’s comment hit home. “That must make him a good cop.”

“Casey’s Cove is lucky to have him, but his strong moral principles make him tough to live up to. A woman would have to be a saint to meet Dylan’s criteria, and we’ve got more sinners than saints in this valley.”

“You make him sound harsh.” Jennifer remembered his attention to duty and detail when he interviewed her the previous week, but he’d seemed friendly enough.

Raylene shook her head. “Not harsh. Dylan has a deep love for the people he protects, and as for his strict code, he’s toughest on himself. When he finally finds the right woman, she’s going to be a very lucky girl.”

Jennifer had been impressed with the officer, had admired his good looks and friendly nature. She was grateful for the information from Raylene—but she’d keep her distance from the appealing officer with the strict moral values.

Even if she was interested in Dylan Blackburn, she was no saint. Not by a long shot. The lies she’d told would fill a bushel basket. Not to mention the laws she’d broken.

“For the last two years,” Raylene continued, “Grover’s been running a pool, and the locals are placing their bets on who’ll be the lucky woman to haul Dylan to the altar.”

Jennifer dragged her attention from her guilty thoughts to Raylene’s comments. “Any odds-on favorites?”

“Nope.” Raylene pushed to her feet as the bell jingled over the door signaling another customer. She leaned toward Jennifer and winked. “The field’s wide-open if you’re interested. I can have Grover add your name to the pool.”

Before Jennifer could decline, Raylene turned her attention to her newcomer. Jennifer gripped her coffee mug to keep her hands from trembling. The discussion of Dylan, interesting as it was, hadn’t made her forget that a menacing stranger had recently appeared in the small hamlet of Casey’s Cove searching for a woman who looked like her.

Coincidence?

She didn’t think so. But how on earth had he managed to find her in this backwoods? And, even more important, was he still out there, looking for her? Or had Raylene convinced him the woman he searched for wasn’t in the area?

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t hear the jingling bell announce another arrival, didn’t notice his approach until his tall, vast shadow fell across the table of the booth where she sat.

“Mind if I join you?”

She jumped at the question, sloshing coffee from her tightly clenched mug onto the tabletop. Fearing the worst and tensing her muscles to flee, she glanced up.

Dylan Blackburn stared down at her, looking more incredibly handsome and alarmingly dangerous than he had on his first visit several days ago.

A sigh of relief that he wasn’t Raylene’s menacing stranger whooshed involuntarily from her lungs, while her heart raced with residual fear. Afraid to speak lest fright show in her voice, she nodded and waved him to the seat Raylene had vacated.

He was staring at her too intently with that eagle-sharp gaze of his, and she wondered how many lawbreakers had cracked and confessed under that look.

“Sorry if I startled you,” he said.

“My fault. I was daydreaming.” She sopped the spilled liquid with her napkin, glad for an excuse to temporarily avoid his laser gaze. “Is this an official visit? More background checks?”

He smiled then, a slow, easy grin that warmed her insides and made her instantly understand why the cove’s single women looked at him cow-eyed.

“It’s my day off,” he said. “I’m out of uniform.”

“You were out of uniform at my place last week,” she quipped with a wobbly smile, vividly recalling his naked torso. “Didn’t stop you from asking questions then.”

“No questions, but I do have a warning.”

“A warning?” Her guilty conscience slammed into overdrive.

“We’ve had several break-ins and some vandalism in the cove this past week. Be sure to keep your doors well-locked, even in the daytime.”

“I always do. Force of habit for a city girl.” She wondered if the recent break-ins had anything to do with the stranger Raylene had seen in town. “Any idea who’s behind the trouble?”

When Dylan shrugged, she noted how broad his shoulders looked in the beige fisherman’s sweater he wore over a dark brown turtleneck that matched his eyes and burnished hair, so thick she longed to run her fingers through it.

She mentally brought herself up short. She would not join the herd of besotted ladies of Casey’s Cove, no matter how attractive Dylan Blackburn was. Besides, according to Raylene, with Jennifer’s checkered past she definitely wasn’t his type.