The Secretary Gets Her Man

Penny shivered. She didn’t know when the conversation had taken such a turn, but she’d lost the thread. And had no idea what they were talking about or around, or what the innuendoes meant. She only knew that if she didn’t get a grip, she was going to do something stupid. Like walk right into Joe Colter’s arms and beg him to give her a refresher course on the feel of his lips against hers.

Or worse yet, to give him a refresher course, to show him exactly what he’d thrown away sixteen years ago, what he’d missed.

She took a breath, needed a distraction. “So…I heard you got married.”

His nod was barely there, his gaze watchful. “Divorced four years ago.”

A warm flush washed over her. “I hadn’t heard that.” Thinking he was married had been a buffer. Now that buffer was gone. And he was standing in front of her looking at her as though she was dinner. Oh, man. “Do you have children?”

He shook his head. “Wanted them. She didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

The hint of yearning in his tone connected with something inside Penny. Something she wasn’t aware of and didn’t understand. She shook off the odd tug.

“I’m surprised you stayed in Darby. I’d pictured you as a professional jock or corporate shark or something.”

“I tried my hand at being an attorney and hated it. My heart’s always been on the ranch.”

“That uniform shirt and badge puts me more in mind of a police officer than a cowboy—though the hat and boots beg a question.”

He grinned and tipped his hat. “Police chief of Darby at your service. The mayor talked me into it. I divide my time between the ranch and town.”

“Busy man.”

“Makes me happy. You look really good, Pen.”

Penny resisted the urge to fuss with her hair and clothes. She did, however, stand a little taller. His gaze touched on her breasts, caressed everywhere they traveled.

Her gray T-shirt was snug, tucked into black jeans. She prided herself on being in shape, lifted weights and jogged to stay that way. Working in an environment with a bunch of men—highly trained agents—Penny felt the need to keep up, to maintain a lean, honed, healthy body. Now it was second nature to her. She liked looking good, knowing that even if she was wearing sensible, no-nonsense clothes, the body beneath was trim and toned and in good working order.

And seeing the appreciation in Joe Colter’s eyes made her glad that she kept up.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself, Colter.” She moved past him and went into the kitchen. “You on duty or would you like to stay for a cup of coffee?” Bad move, Archer. But hospitality was ingrained in her.

“Actually, I’m off. One of the men was out sick so I worked a double shift and was on my way home when I saw your black Caddie pull into Agnes’s driveway. I didn’t know it was you.”

“And now you do.”

“And very glad of it.”

His tone of voice made her shiver. She was not going to succumb to Joe Colter’s charm. Giving the contents of the fridge a quick perusal, she said, “There’s a can of decaf in here. Yes or no?”

“Sounds good.” He hooked a boot around the rung of the kitchen chair, pulled it away from the table and sat.

Penny tried not to notice the breadth of his shoulders, or the way his presence filled the room. She tried not to remember how he’d looked sixteen years ago, sitting at this same kitchen table, algebra and English books spread in front of him, his dark brows endearingly drawn together in a frown of concentration. Back then, he’d still been big and masculine, but youth, she noticed, had given way nicely to maturity. Now, his presence felt totally different, dangerous somehow.

She was being ridiculous. She’d been living on a ranch with men for years, worked with men. Granted, recently there had been changes at the Smoking Barrel. Four of the agents had traded in their bachelorhood for happy marriage and family.

Maybe that’s what was wrong with her. All the changes were setting her off balance, goosing her own biological clock.

But just because Joe Colter sat in her grandmother’s kitchen oozing more sex appeal than was fair, was no reason for her to turn into a stammering, awkward girl. She was a much different woman than the one who’d left here sixteen years ago.

And she didn’t intend to stay.

“You said you were on your way home, yet isn’t this place a little out of the way? As I recall your ranch is the other direction.” She filled the carafe with water and scooped coffee into the basket.

“The neighbors reported seeing a strange car outside a few days back. I’ve made it a point to cruise by since then.”

“Wasn’t me. I just got in.”

“I know. I pretty much have my finger on the pulse of the town.”

“Mmm, and that would be why you tackled me like a linebacker sacking the quarterback?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t say my information was always accurate. I apologize for jumping you, but when a stranger crouches in a shooting stance, it’s a natural reaction.”

“I guess I’m lucky you didn’t shoot first and ask questions later?”

“No, you’re lucky I was the one who came to check rather than the Truman sisters. They would have shot first and questioned later.”

Penny laughed. Though both women had been married—several times each—they were still known as the Truman sisters. Georgia was a retired telephone operator who knew the dirt on everyone in town, and Wanetta ran a dress shop in town that specialized in hats. As a child, Penny had wished the sisters could have adopted her. “Do they still live across the street?”

“Still. And believe me, your grandmother held you up to them like you were the President’s guard. You’ve become their hero, and it can get a little scary.”

Penny turned, feeling her heart soften. “Grandma talked about me?”

“She was proud.”

“Why didn’t she ever tell me? Why did she shut me down every time I called and wanted to visit?” She asked the question aloud, even knowing Joe wouldn’t have the answer.

“I didn’t know you’d been interested in coming home.”

Snapping out of her inward thoughts, she looked at him. Censure colored his tone even though his features gave nothing away.

“You thought I’d just turned my back on her or something?”

He shrugged. “Seemed that way.”

“As a lawman, you should know better than to assume. You ought to check your facts, Colter.” Annoyed, she tapped her foot, staring at the coffeepot, wishing it would hurry up and drip. She was beginning to regret inviting Joe to stay.

“I don’t imagine you’re an easy woman to check facts on,” he said reasonably. “And I didn’t think I had the right.”

She could have kicked herself. Her testiness made it seem like she cared what he thought of her, made it seem like she would have expected him to know her, to wonder about her, to keep up with her.

Those were her own fantasies. Not his.