Rural Romance by Alexa Riley

Chapter Three

Cooper

Paula’s laugh is like nails on a chalkboard, but I try to hold my smile. When she touches my shoulder, I can’t fake it any longer, and I step back so her hand falls away.

“Well anyway—” She begins talking again, and I’m not sure I’ve said more than three words to her since she came in the office today. “It’s been so long, but it’s good to be back in town. Why don’t you and Luca come over for dinner tonight? Mama is cooking up something special for my return.”

“That’s really nice, but I’m afraid I’ve got work to take care of.”

“Oh, come on, Coop, we both know nothing is going on in this town tonight.” She leans in like she’s going to tell me a secret. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks for stopping by.” I nod to Paula and I can see the edges of her eyes tightening just a bit. That’s how I know just how pissed she is at not getting her way.

Paula and I weren’t what I’d call a couple in high school, but she was quick to tell people we were together. She used to be obnoxious at games—painting my jersey number on her face and asking to wear my letterman jacket. I was a nice guy that didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so when she asked me to prom I agreed. Our graduating class had around a hundred kids, so it’s not like I had a lot of options. I wasn’t really into anything other than focusing on getting into the Navy after graduation.

She made a big deal after prom about us being meant to be together, and I tried to let her down gently, but afterwards I heard she told people we’d gone all the way. It wasn’t true, and I sure didn’t start the rumor and even went out of my way to squash it when someone brought it up to me. After I left town, Luca told me that she was telling everyone we were engaged, and she was waiting for me to come back home. I wrote her a letter while I was in basic and told her in no uncertain terms that we were not together, and she shouldn’t wait on me. Soon after, she moved away from Pink Springs.

I’ve been back a while now and haven't given her a second thought since basic training. Last week I heard her mom took a spill and broke her leg. I went by and checked on her and made sure she had plenty of help. Next thing I know, Paula is showing up at the station saying I’ve been asking about her and how she’s back in town for good.

This is exactly what I don’t need right now, along with the headache that’s forming behind my eyes.

“See you tomorrow, Cooper.” She waves as she walks towards her car. I don’t miss the exaggerated swing of her hips as she does it, and I have to force myself to not roll my eyes as I go to my patrol car.

She tried that more than once back in high school, and it did just as much for me then as it does for me now. Which is exactly zero. For a long time after I graduated I wondered if that part of me just wasn’t working. I knew guys in my class that couldn’t wait to get their hands on a girl and were constantly pushing for details about Paula. I didn’t have this pressing urge to have sex or be with anyone, and I wondered if I was broken. I picture Juno with pink hair sitting on my kitchen counter, and it answers that question.

No, I wasn’t broken. My body was in hibernation until the right woman came along. Little Juno with her skinny legs, stubborn chin, and an attitude the size of Georgia. She was the one to wake me up, and now she’s under my goddamn skin.

Once Paula turns at the edge of downtown, I get out of my cruiser and make my way across the street. I see the light on at the old real estate place, and I plan on checking it out. It’s my job, after all.

I check the front door and it’s locked with the shades pulled down. When I go around back, I see the door is ajar and Juno’s car is parked nearby. I knew she bought the place, because the bank came to the sheriff’s station to get the paperwork notarized. I asked around, but nobody knew why. Her grandmother's place is not too far from downtown, and from what I remember it’s plenty big for Juno and her. Why the hell would she move out and to a business downtown? Did she really need to be closer to work?

Lux told me about her parents a long time ago, so I always kept an eye on her Grams. I send one of the boy scouts in town to cut her grass in the spring and summer, and I have the local builder clean her gutters out twice a year. We got some pretty bad ice a couple of times this winter, and I made sure to salt her steps before she woke up to go get the paper. They didn’t have anyone else looking out for them, and I wanted to help in some way. If I’m honest with myself—which I don’t like doing—I know I’m pretending when I say I’d do it for anyone else in town.

I push the door a little and look at the stairs that lead up to the apartment. I’ve only been up here one other time, but that was before it was sold. One last look over my shoulder and then I decide I should check on Juno just to make sure she’s safe. I know I said I’d keep my distance, but I’m also the sheriff.

The stairs are narrow, but I take them in no time and see the apartment door is wide open. “Jesus, it's like a neon sign for crime.”

Without thinking, I walk in and I’m struck silent by the image that greets me. Juno is standing there in short shorts, a hot pink bra, and a glass of wine. She looks up at me and freezes for only a second before she puts a hand on her hip and raises that damn stubborn chin of hers.

“You make it your business to walk into people’s homes now?” Her eyes narrow like she’s pissed, but I see the blush creeping up her neck.

“I do if their fucking doors are wide open. Why are you half naked for the whole damn town to see, Juno?”

“You got a warrant?” She takes a sip of her wine and raises an eyebrow.

“I could take you in right now for underage drinking and indecent exposure.”

“I dare you.”

“Put some clothes on.” I glance around the apartment for something and see a sweater on top of a cardboard box. I pick it up and toss it to her, and she just lets it fall to the ground out of spite. “Damn it, Juno.”

“I can’t decide if you like saying my name or if you can’t stop yourself.”

I take a step toward her, and she places her wine on the table next to her. She grabs the sweater and slowly lifts it over her head and makes a show of covering up.

“Happy?” she asks as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Not in a long fucking time.” I clench my fists at my sides because she’s undoing me again. “Not since the day you walked into my life.”

She flinches, and I wish I could take the words back because they didn’t come out how I meant for them to. Since the moment I met her, she’s been driving me crazy, and I have no control. I wish I could go back to a time when I could have more than a single thought without her invading my mind. But there’s a dark part of me that whispers I’d never let that happen.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you here?”

“The lights were on, and the door downstairs was unlocked. I thought maybe someone had broken in.” The lie rolls off easily, but she doesn’t believe it.

“A chicken can’t take a shit in this town without you knowing about it.”

“Watch your mouth.” It’s out before I have a chance to think about it, and she smirks with the challenge.

“It’s my fucking house,” she taunts, daring me to do something about it, and God, how I want to.

“So it is.” I tighten my jaw so hard it cracks. “You should lock your door; someone could break in.”

“When exactly was the last time Pink Springs had a breaking and entering, Sheriff Cross?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her just last week, but we both know it’s been longer than we’ve been alive. The worst thing that happens in this town is kids getting drunk on the football field after hours and throwing up in the bleachers.

“Why don’t you get back to your patrol and we can pretend this never happened.” She dismisses me so easily it cuts down the center of my chest. When I turn around to leave, I hear her say softly, “Just like the last time.”

I close my eyes tight, and I want to go back to her, but there’s too much between us. She doesn’t want me, and what I did to her in that kitchen broke whatever shine I had for her. My chance is gone, and it’s my fault, but I don’t have to stay here and let her pour salt in the wound.

“Lock up when I leave,” I say without turning around.