At least he’d gotten half of a perfect scone out of it.
Chapter Two
Jessica Dixon stepped back as Maya unlocked the door of the jail cell. The man inside it—Ethan James—came limping out. Had he sustained an injury while being arrested in the parking lot? Maybe hacking was just as violent a crime as it sounded.
Ethan had wide shoulders, quiet hazel eyes, long legs encased in blue jeans. Wherever he came from, some stylist had done excellent work on his hair. Even after a night in jail, he looked good; he even smelled good, with some kind of clean citrus aftershave. Definitely different from the rough-edged guys she’d grown up with in Alaska.
And yet, she got the sense that he was pretty tough under that nicely groomed exterior. Something about his features intrigued her, as if he was a lot more than he appeared at first. Above all things, she trusted her intuition; it was probably the only thing that hadn’t let her down at some point. Her intuition told her that Ethan James wasn’t someone to mess with, and that there was a lot going on under his easy-on-the-eyes facade.
The way Maya treated him—with an unusual degree of respect—reinforced that impression.
“Let me guess,” she told the man behind the bars. “You arrived here early and my sergeant got a little overeager last night.”
“Don’t blame him. I was crossing a line, I admit. I wanted to get a jump on the research.”
“Shit.” Maya set her hands on her hips. “I’m going to look like a hypocrite if I go easy on you.”
Jessica waved the thermos of coffee and the box of scones at her. “Maya, I need to talk to you.”
“Can we do it later, Jess? I have a problem on my hands.”
She had a problem too; why else would she be here this early with coffee and bribery scones? “Okay sure, we can talk about my thing later. One crisis at a time, or so they say. Seems to me they always come in clusters.”
Ethan shot her a vaguely amused glance. She got the impression that he didn’t take her very seriously, as if she was a pesky little sister.
She didn’t like that thought at all. She wasn’t anyone’s little sister, and just because she was a little offbeat didn’t mean that she wasn’t worthy of respect.
Or did it?
Lately she’d been wondering about that very question.
She realized that both Maya and Ethan were looking at her. “What? Did I miss something?”
“You said you were leaving. That we’re going to talk about your thing later.” In her police chief uniform, Maya always looked so stern, even though Jess knew better. Maya was the kind of friend you could always count on—well, except if she was busy with an unexpected perp.
“If this is about S.G., I don’t mind sticking around. I could probably be helpful.”
Ethan’s half-smile felt wholly condescending. “Those scones are sure helpful, I’ll say that. Any chance you can rustle up a few more of those?”
A flash of anger swept through her. Just because she made sweets for a living and liked to smile didn’t mean she was a dimwit he could order around.
“Sure thing, jailbird. I live to feed breakfast to inmates. They’re so sexy, it’s the lure of the forbidden and all that. Maybe I’ll write you letters while you’re serving your time, and then we can get married and have conjugal visits and—“
“Jessica.” Maya could barely keep herself from laughing. “Take it easy on him. Ethan came up here from Los Angeles at my request. I have to deal with this situation before it gets even more awkward. But I’m grateful for the breakfast and we’ll definitely address your problem as soon as I’m done here. I’ll call you, okay? Are we good?”
As police chief, Maya knew how to manage a situation. Jessica wasn’t used to being “a situation,” but she could read the anxiety in her friend’s posture. Right now, Maya needed her to leave, and so she’d do just that—but for her own reasons. Not because Mr. Bigshot from LA wanted another scone.
“We’re good,” she assured Maya, while casting a scathing glance at Ethan James. “No sharing my Guatemalan Organic Roast with the inmates, though.”
Petty words to leave with, but she didn’t take them back. She didn’t appreciate being patronized, even by an attractive stranger.
Especially by an attractive stranger.
Even after she’d ridden her bike back to the Sweet Harbor Bakery and B&B and gone back to work in the kitchen, Jessica’s irritation didn’t fade. She rolled out the lunchtime biscuits with twice the force she usually used, nearly bending her favorite cookie cutter in the process. It wasn’t just Ethan she was mad at; they didn’t know each other, after all. He could be forgiven for dismissing her with a smile and a light word about scones.
Could be forgiven, but might not be, depending on what he did next.
No, this wasn’t about Ethan-the-handsome-jailbird. This was about her. Just because she’d been running Sweet Harbor since her mother had dumped it on her didn’t mean she couldn’t do other things. Just because she’d skipped college to take over the bakery didn’t mean she didn’t have a brain. Just because she’d never even left Alaska didn’t mean she was trapped in her comfort zone of muffins and room rentals.
Or did it?
Lately, she’d been wondering if all of those things were true. Ethan James, whoever he was, had hit a sore spot.
She busied herself with making biscuits until she noticed that Sergeant Hollister was at the display case. Ethan had referred to a “Sergeant Santa,” and he was the only one who fit that description.
With a glance at Nia, the blue-haired, nose-ringed server, she took over at the cash register.
“Good morning, Sergeant. Why are you trying to pay, you silly goose? You know all the Lost Harbor police caffeinate for free here.”
He covered up a yawn with the crook of his arm. “Seems like that’s only when you’re around.”
“Oh, well, the others forget sometimes.” She waved off his money. “Hey, heard you had a busy night last night.”
“Sure did. Following the new chief’s orders. Doin’ my duty.”
Poor Maya. Taking over a department of ornery old dudes was no picnic. Jessica admired her for shaking things up. If only she could do the same.
“We all appreciate everything you’re doing to keep the town safe.” She batted her eyelashes at him, knowing he was no match for her smile when she unleashed it. “Is it true you arrested a violent felon in the parking lot?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t go that far. He came easily enough. Didn’t have to fire my weapon, but I was ready.”
“I just bet you were.” Maya had told her that the Lost Harbor police rarely even drew their weapons. It just didn’t come up very often. “He would have been no match for you, I’m sure.”
He puffed up his chest. “Of course not. We’re a small town, but we can hold our own. No hotshot PI’s gonna get the best of me.”
Oh ho. Ethan James was a private investigator. Very intriguing. She smiled again at the sergeant and patted his arm. “You should go get some sleep. Those overnight shifts must be killer.”