The Hunk Next Door(4)
She was debating the wisdom of ruining her look by switching from her heels to her winter boots when someone knocked on her office door. Again. She turned and the professional smile she’d forced onto her face faded at the sight of Riley O’Brien filling her doorway. “Yes?”
“Danny said I could come on back.”
She made a mental note to have a chat with Danny.
“I just wanted you to know I’d finished the lobby as well as the display out front.”
“I’m sure your boss will be thrilled with your efficiency.”
“Probably so.” He gave her a grin that reminded her of the young men she’d pulled over in the past who tried to get off with a warning. “Today’s project list filled two pages.”
“That’s...” Why did he think she cared? “Ambitious,” she finished. “If you’ll excuse me I have an appointment.”
“Oh, sure.” He stepped out of the doorway but hovered while she locked up. It was a new procedure and no reflection on her department but—
“Can’t be too careful these days,” he said, echoing her thoughts.
“Precisely.” She maneuvered around him, unable to ignore the enticing scent of evergreen and cinnamon clinging to his clothing. “The garland is scented this year? I didn’t approve that.”
“I’m not sure it’s possible to un-scent fresh pine, ma’am.”
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“The ma’am thing. I don’t like it much.” It made her feel old and right now the increased pressure following the drug bust was more than enough to cope with.
“Right.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Danny mentioned that.”
She was definitely having a talk with Danny. He needed a reminder about basic security around strangers. “Enjoy your stay in Belclare, Mr. O’Brien.”
“Call me Riley.”
Abby had no intention of calling him anything at all. While it wouldn’t be a problem under normal circumstances, this wasn’t the best time to make new friends. Except when she looked up, his expression was open and there was a humor lurking in his brown eyes. Her earlier thoughts about a stress relief outlet flooded back.
“I’d like that.”
“Pardon?” In her fantasy, she’d apparently lost the thread of the conversation. Reaching into her pocket, she gripped her car keys and strode toward the back of the station. He followed her.
“I’d like to enjoy my stay. If you’re not doing anything tonight, maybe you could show me around?”
Startled, she stopped, gathered her foolishly scattered wits. “I’m the chief of police, Mr.—” she made the correction before he could “—Riley. If you need a map or a tour guide, check with the Visitor’s Center.”
“I don’t get it.” He shook his head.
She shouldn’t ask. If she let him stall her much longer, she’d be late. “What’s the matter?”
He grinned again. “I thought we sort of, well, connected earlier.”
“You’re joking.” The idea was absurd.
“Only a little.” His eyes twinkled. “Call it instant hero worship instead of a connection. I didn’t think anything could make Mr. Filmore stop talking.”
The urge to laugh startled her and she smothered it quickly. “That was more luck than skill.” A distaste for Filmore’s voice was a connection shared by 90 percent of Belclare’s population. “I really need to go.”
“Okay.” He pushed open the door and held it for her. “If you change your mind or need anything decorated, I’ll be around.”
His slow smile and the warmth of his body as she brushed by him created a stir low in her belly. Simple lust. A tempting distraction she couldn’t risk at the moment, no matter how genuine he seemed or how efficiently he tacked up decorations. The cold air slipped around her legs and up her knee-length skirt. She was rather grateful for the assist from Mother Nature as parts of her had turned inappropriately warm during this bizarre conversation. “You’ll be around? For the month?”
“Longer, I think. I like the views,” he added, his gaze holding hers. “Better get going before you catch a chill.”
Right. If only her feet weren’t rooted to the spot.
As he pulled the door closed, she brought out her key to lock it. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it from this side. Danny told me all doors had to be locked at all times.”
She clamped her lips together. No sense hollering at the new guy for the mistakes of the rookie cop at the desk. “Thank you,” she murmured when the door latch clicked. She counted to ten, then tugged the handle, pleased when the lock held.