Monica whispered loudly, “They’re having freaky sex in whatever room they want now.”
Val whispered back, “That’s what I figured too.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “Listen, weirdos, this is me and Mark, not…” Robin’s eyes lifted when the bell over the door rang. “So, speaking of freaky sex…”
Val whipped her head around, only to see Sullivan Wescott, sheriff of Glimmer Lake and a partial source of Val’s headache, walking into the coffee shop.
She immediately spun around. “Shut up, Robin.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You were thinking it.”
Monica raised her hand. “No, that was me, actually. I was the one suspecting you and Sully of having freaky sex.”
Val hissed, “In what universe do I have the time to have freaky sex with anyone?”
“That wasn’t a denial.” Robin held her fist out to Monica, who bumped her knuckles. “We were right.”
“You’re both ridiculous.” Val glanced at her watch. “And your time is up.”
Monica leaned over to Robin. “She’s leaving us so she can get his order.”
“Of course she is,” Robin said quietly. “I mean, who else is going to make flirty eyes at Sully? She can’t have Eve doing it. She’s young enough to be his daughter.”
Val turned, flipped both her best friends off, then walked back to the register.
Chapter 2
Val made it to the register just as Sully stepped to the front of the line. Val was tall, but Sully towered over her at well over six feet. He was wearing his uniform, along with his old-fashioned felt Stetson, which was dusted with snow. His sandy-brown hair was getting long in back and fell over his jacket collar.
“Hey, Sully.” Val kept her voice even. “What can I get you?”
“Large coffee.” His blue eyes were on her. “How’s your day going?”
“It’s going.” Val got a paper cup out. “To go?”
“Yeah.”
People liked Sully. He was considered trustworthy and the kind of man who didn’t need to shout to get attention, both qualities that fostered confidence in old-fashioned Glimmer Lake. Also, he was a massive guy. He looked and talked like someone who worked in timber, which made the old logging guys in the county vote for him.
Instead of just handing the paper cup over like she did with most customers, Val filled it, then added the amount of cream he liked before she put the lid on. “Here you go.”
Down-home, trustworthy sheriffs who walked grandmothers across the street and marshaled Christmas parades were not Val’s type.
“Thanks.” Sully reached for the cup and their fingers brushed, sending a thrill up her arm and reminding her too much of a stolen night and unwise decisions from a year and a half ago.
He might not be her type, but Sully was incredibly attractive. Not that Val would call him handsome. His jaw was square, and his mouth was a flat line across a usually serious face. His nose had been broken when he was playing football in college, and he looked like he was perpetually scowling.
To be honest, the scowl might have been the most attractive thing about him. Val constantly wanted to needle him just to see if she could make him laugh.
His eyes were the only soft thing about him, a brilliant sky blue that made Val think of a summer day on the lake. His beard looked pretty soft too, but he only wore that in the winter, so she didn’t have firsthand knowledge.
“How’re your boys doing?”
“Good.” She finally looked up. “Your parents?”
“Dad’s complaining about the weather, and Mom’s talking about planting bulbs.”
“So normal then.”
A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Pretty much.”
“Two bucks,” Val said.
“For a coffee?”
“No, for fucking awesome coffee.”
“Oh, in that case…”
She could tell he wanted to roll his eyes, but instead he slid two bucks from his wallet and handed them over before he dropped a dollar in the tip jar.
Sully had lived in Los Angeles and worked there before moving back, as so many of their old classmates did, to be closer to aging parents. He’d run for sheriff in their rural mountain county twice now and won both times. He was divorced, no kids, and the one time they’d had sex had been way better than Val had anticipated.
Way, way better.
But who had time for that?
She realized she’d been staring. “Okay. Have a good one.”
The corner of his mouth lifted a little more, and he tipped his hat. “See ya, Valerie.”
Her lips parted, and she was grateful he walked away when he did. She didn’t want him to see her reaction.
Dating did not fit in her life. Men did not fit in her life, period, unless it was the ex she was forced to occasionally deal with or the two mini-men she was trying to raise. Which was why—when Sully asked her out after their one night together—she’d said no.
He’d been pissed.
Not that she’d turned him down, but all the reasons she listed.
“You know, you’re allowed to have a life.”
“It’s so obvious you don’t have kids, Sully.”
He had walked back in his bedroom and shut the door, and Val snuck out of the house, hoping no one saw her walking back to her car where she’d left it at Chaco’s. It was early, but there were always nosy people around in Glimmer Lake.
And now they mostly ignored each other. Mostly. Every now and then—like he had last night—Sully would text her.
Come over.
I can’t.
I’ll make it worth your time.
I have no time.
And that would be it. Val would lie awake in bed, thinking about all the ways she wanted to say yes and cursing how she wasn’t living her life. This wasn’t what she’d planned when she was young. She hadn’t really made any plans past the next concert or the next road trip, but she knew her life wasn’t supposed to be like this.
But she was the one—the only one—doing All the Things for her kids and her parents and her employees.
So she would ignore Sully, and he would go silent for a few months. Until he picked a random night to mess up her sleep and make her wish her life were different.
She watched him walk out the door and get into the green pickup parked at the curb.
“Val?”
“Huh?” She turned to Eve.
Eve leaned over. “You were staring.”
Val winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s understandable. He has a really great ass. And I’m not a uniform person.”
“You’re also young enough to be his daughter.”
“So?” Eve shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes.”
She arrived home about fifteen minutes before her kids. When they’d been younger, it was the only thing that allowed her to keep her sanity, those fifteen minutes of silence. Now, as they got older and retreated into their rooms and their phones and their individual social lives, Val dreaded the quiet.
It was all going too fast. Her oldest had earned his license in November. Now Jackson drove to the library to study, to his father’s house when Josh had time for a visit, out with his friends on weekends. Jackson even drove Andy to school, leaving Val feeling particularly useless.