And that doesn’t even include that I’m her brother’s boss.
Or that we are about to become coworkers.
This is the only sane, reasonable course of action.
My desire to engage with her, to force her to admit I have power over her, is my ego. Nothing more, nothing less. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
“Then there’s nothing left to say, is there?”
“Why? Do you have something else to say?”
“Nope. Nothing at all.” Her tone is flippant, but her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Why, do you have something to say?”
Only that there are a thousand reasons to stay away, but I don’t want to. “Nope.”
She gives me a sharp nod. “Good. From here on out, I think it’s best if we keep our interactions limited and strictly professional.”
“Agreed.” Well, my head does; the rest of me is very much not on board.
“It’s settled, then.” Her blue eyes flash like an electrical storm.
“Have a good night, Sheriff.” An impassive expression on her face, she straightens, taking three steps in my direction.
Then she has the gall to hold out her hand.
I contemplate her outstretched palm. My instinct is to take her, yank her to me, claim her mouth, and show her every single word she’s just said to me is complete and utter bullshit.
But I don’t.
I take advantage of my post-nut clarity and slide my hand into hers before giving it a brisk shake. “You too, counselor.”
She pulls away, gives me a little waggle of her fingers, and swivels back toward her car. “See ya Saturday.”
“See ya Saturday,” I parrot back to her.
A minute later, she’s gone.
Chapter 10
Jessica
“Is something wrong, Jessica?” my mom asks, a frown on her face. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“No!” The word is vehement, and I soften my voice. “I’m tired from last-day-of-work stuff.”
“Are you sure?” None of the concern clears from her features. “It’s not like you to be out of sorts.”
It’s not, but I can’t exactly explain I’m out of sorts because Sheriff Charlie Radcliffe did not text me even once.
Which I find very rude, considering how I rocked his world last night.
I mean, sure, we agreed it was closure, but still. One little text to make sure I was okay wouldn’t have killed him.
It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.
All day long, every beep, peep, bing, or ring jolted my heart like a defibrillator, only to immediately crash out when the name on the screen belonged to someone other than him.
Which is why I should be happy this thing between us is over.