Page 88 of The Coppersmith Farmhouse (Jamison Valley 1)
Finding the babysitter, which I’d thought would be the more difficult of my two tasks, turned out to be a snap. One of Rowen’s teachers at Quail Hollow had volunteered.
Now all I needed to do was get Jess on board with an evening at the Silver Dollar Saloon. We’d have a few drinks, share some laughs and check out the Prescott bar scene.
So here I was, standing in Jess’s office with a box of donuts in my hand.
“Whatcha got there?” he asked.
“Donuts. Cops like donuts.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “You brought donuts? Why?”
“Can’t one of Prescott’s newest citizens bring the local law enforcement crew a box of donuts to show her gratitude for their service?”
“Georgia,” he grumbled.
“Okay. It’s bribery. Maisy really wants us to meet up with her and Everett tonight for a couple of drinks. Can we? Please?” I shoved the box of donuts in his face, hoping that the amazing smell of freshly baked maple bars would make him say yes.
“What about Roe?” he asked.
“Covered. The babysitter is coming over at seven-thirty,” I said.
“Already got a sitter, huh?”
Damn. “Ah . . . yes?”
He drew in a long breath but on the exhale said, “Fine.”
“Yay!” I shouted. I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for a kiss, and just before our lips touched, I saw his small grin.
Jess grabbed the box of donuts and went back to his chair. Popping the lid off the box, he inhaled a maple bar in five huge bites.
“How’s the day off?” he asked, wiping crumbs from his mouth.
“Excellent.”
Since the move, I hadn’t taken a single day off work and I needed to start using my vacation time. So today, I was having a Gigi Friday. Roe was at preschool and I had the day to myself.
It was only ten in the morning and I had already cleaned the farmhouse, gotten groceries, including a stop at the bakery for donuts, and gassed up the Explorer. I didn’t have any chores left to do but maybe a load of laundry. So after lunch I was planning to bake cookies, paint my toenails and curl up in front of the fireplace with a book.
Bliss.
“Want to go to lunch with me today?” I asked.
“Probably should have asked me before I ate that bar,” he said.
“Hmm . . . well, I needed you to have the donut so you’d agree to take me out tonight. If that means I have to forgo a lunch date, so be it.”
He chuckled. “Pick me up in a couple hours. I’m just working on paperwork today to get caught up. I’ll be going crazy by noon.”
“You got it, Sheriff,” I said, giving him a two-finger salute.
“Okay, honey. From the looks of the disaster that is your desk, you’ve got a lot going on. I’ll drop these off at dispatch on my way out.”
Standing up out of his rather uncomfortable guest chair, I leaned over to grab the box of donuts.
His hand slapped down so fast on top of the box it made me jump back.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said.
