Page 9 of Runaway Bride


  ***

  Savannah found herself warming to this man, and she wasn't at all sure that was wise. Not good, she cautioned. Hadn't she just run away from a marriage with a man she had adored? Hadn't that same man lied to her forever? No, she couldn't start trusting a complete stranger, even if he was the Sheriff.

  Now that he put the badge away, he didn't seem much of a threat to her. Unless she counted the way his smiles affected her heartbeat. Never had any man influenced her heartbeats. Not even Chad. But that was crazy. He was just a big friendly Sheriff that was taking care of her and making sure she did no mischief to his quiet little town. She wouldn't be forgetting those handcuffs either.

  His sister's clothes felt soft and comfortable on her, even though they were miles too long for her. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of person she might be.

  His home was so old fashioned and clean too. The man was a complete surprise, from handcuffs to flowers, he puzzled her. She didn't want to be puzzled, or interested, but he was so different from the men she knew, he intrigued her.

  The hound dog at his feet moved with him almost simultaneously. She sensed a loyalty that she envied.

  "He's a nice looking hound," she commented, watching as he occasionally extended his hand to the top of the dog's head, and scratched him behind the ears. The dog whined and settled down beside him.

  "You like dogs?" The dog was licking his fingers and both man and dog were completely tuned in to one another.

  "I don't know, I've never had one," she said eyeing the dog's complete affection for his owner.

  "Never had a dog, you've led a sheltered life, haven't you? You've never done dishes, never had a dog?" he teased.

  The easy bantering went on until they finished dinner. He started stacking the dishes and she looked totally lost. She made a mental note that this would be a new experience. How hard could it be? Not that she was too good to do dishes, but she just hadn't been in a position to have to do them. She'd had a maid all her life, and couldn't imagine doing such mundane chores before today. Of course trying to fix a flat wasn't her forte either, she silently admitted. She'd made a royal mess of that. Since she'd started this adventure, she'd been doing a lot of things that didn't come natural to her. The thought was novel. A real homemaker should know how to do dishes, even though most people had dishwashers these days. She glanced around the kitchen and realized it was quite rustic compared to the modern kitchen in her parents house.

  "So what do I do?" she asked timidly as he filled one of the sinks with soap and water.

  He couldn't stop the smirk, but he gentled his patience. "There's a cup towel in that drawer by you. Get it, and dry the dishes as I wash."

  She took the cup towel out of the drawer and waited for the first dish. She had to ask where each dish went, but he didn't seem to mind telling her.

  Her mother would be horrified seeing her daughter doing such a menial chore. They had often discussed getting a maid for her once she and Chad were married. Living with Chad it would have been commonplace to have a maid.

  But with that done, she was at a loss for what to do next. She watched him let the water out of the sink and turned about to face him.

  "Why don't you take me to my car now and I won't bother you any further," she insisted.

  He smiled, taking the dishrag from her and shook his head. "Wouldn't do any good. You can't fix your car, and although I could fix the flat, I couldn't supply a water hose or radiator. And...you don't have a license. So you might as well face it, you are stuck here for the night. Don't worry about your car though; I've already radioed the highway patrol. So relax. It'd help if I knew the make and model."

  "Oh, it's a BMW, 2009."

  "That ought to get some attention around here. We don't have many of those break down."

  But she wasn't thinking about her car, she was worried about staying the night with the handsome Sheriff.

  Those words rang in her head like some gong. Stuck with Mr. Handsome for a whole night, alone, in his house, and the highway patrol might ring his doorbell any moment telling him to put the cuffs back on.

  "But I hate to impose ..."

  His gaze encompassed her like some snare and the mutual attraction seemed to shoot off the walls at them, making them both aware of the situation. Heat rose inside her so quickly she felt her face flush.

  "You can have the bedroom behind the kitchen. It's the one Mrs. Johnson uses occasionally when it's bad weather or she doesn't feel like driving back to town. Don't worry I'm not in the habit of molesting women who stay here."

  "Do many women stay here?" she asked in an almost whisper.

  "No," his voice sounded soft, almost like a whisper too.

  "I didn't think so," she muttered miserably to herself, unable to define her own misery.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing, nothing at all, Sheriff. Can you show me to my room so I can rest, I'm exhausted," she said without glancing at him again.

  "As soon as we finish the dishes, sure…"

  She nodded and took the last pot from him.

  "Okay, follow me." he took her elbow again and this time the electrical current running through her arm nearly made her faint with shock. Never had a man's touch so inflamed her senses. Good grief, she was reacting like one of those silly heroines from a romance novel. He was only being nice, or trying to be. He certainly had no use for her, and his thoughts of marriage were so removed from her own, she knew better than to contemplate anything. Still, there was an instant attraction, and she knew he felt something, from the way he kept moving away from her.

  Get real, this guy was a cop, and he could put her in jail if he knew she'd taken her parents’ car. But what was a girl to do, she couldn't stay at the church, she couldn't marry Chad after what she had witnessed for herself, she had no choice, she had to run. If only she could explain her circumstances. But the one thing she knew about herself was that she could keep a secret. Especially for a friend.

  Friend, when had Chad stopped being the man she loved and started becoming just a friend? The answer to that was in the rose garden.

  But as Ben directed her to the room, he showed her where the TV was, and the remote, and the few magazines that Mrs. Johnson left. He seemed intent on making her perfectly comfortable for the night. She should have felt grateful, but she knew there was a danger here and she didn't know how to handle it. The danger was in herself. She was definitely overly attracted to the Sheriff. And she was also vulnerable since she ranaway from her own wedding. Flirtation was one thing, but not with a Sheriff. Especially now. Not with the Highway patrol sniffing at her heels.

  There were pictures on the dresser, probably him and his family. She picked them up and looked at them for a long moment. The Sheriff was undeniably handsome. He was long legged, thin, but built, weathered from the sun. His jaw was squared with determination, his lips firm and sensual, and his eyes were sometimes warm and friendly with crinkles around them as though he laughed a lot, and sometimes they were cold and hard.

  As he left her, she looked about the room. It was very simple, with a big feather bed and plump pillows, yellow curtains at the window, and the television was a good size and swung around from the bed to the chair. She propped herself after changing into her nightshirt and decided to make the best of the night.

  She heard him going outside a time or two, and wished she hadn't changed her clothes, a nice walk after dinner would have made her feel better. She'd eaten way too much, but darn it, the handsome Sheriff made her nervous. As it were, she felt leaded down. With a sigh of discontent she grabbed a magazine and glanced through it. It was several months old and she'd read it. She flipped on the television and watched for a while, but most was reruns and she felt a restlessness that confused her.

  She didn't belong here, and knowing that didn't give her much comfort.

  The day hadn't gone well, but at least she was here, in nowheresville. She could relax, she told herself. She'd get h
er car fixed tomorrow and figure out what to do from there. Everything would be fine.

  So why was she so acutely tuned to the Sheriff's every move? And why after running out on one man, did she feel such an attraction for another so quickly? It made no sense. Was she really a dingbat?

  It was a given he was a fantastic male specimen. Way out of her league. She'd never dated a man so attractive before. Even though Chad was handsome, he lacked that he-man attraction that this man seemed consumed with. Thick brown hair that was perfectly manicured, eyes like a hawk, and a smile like the devil himself. She'd better be careful. She'd love to photograph him. But there wouldn't be time and she was pretty sure he wouldn't dream of posing for her. No cameras. Still, she doubted she would ever see or be near another Sheriff with his looks and strange kind of charm.

  She laid on the bed, sinking into it. All the spas in the world couldn't equal the delight or comfort of that bed. Never had she slept on a feather bed. She was in absolute heaven—until she started sneezing, and couldn't stop.

  She got up and walked around the room. Still it wouldn't stop.

  Finally there was a knock on the door.

  "Something wrong?" Ben asked peeking his head through the door and looking at her strangely.

  "Uh—no, of course not." And then she sneezed again.

  She saw the tissue on the night stand and rushed for it. She blew her nose and turned back around to see him in the room with her. The room shrank. Now what was she supposed to do, she wasn't dressed for company and with the bed between them, her head was spinning with ideas she would rather not put to words. How could she even think of such things when she had just run from a marriage with a man she had adored and loved? What was wrong with her? She felt out of character.

  "You're allergic to feathers, I'd bet my life on it." he stated with a strange kind of panic in his voice.

  "Oh—no, it's not that, it's just ..."

  He shook his head. "It's okay, let's prove it."

  He moved the pillow and held it up for her and she sneezed, several times.

  "Yes, it's the feathers." He threw the pillow on the bed.

  "Oh no, well, I'll be okay, really..." She began, but he cut her off.

  "No you won't. But don't worry, I have another bedroom," he explained pulling her out of the room.

  He seemed not to notice that she was only clad in her t-shirt that barely covered her hips. She shrugged away the apprehension that clinched at her stomach. Just stay calm, he's a Sheriff, remember?

  "C'mon," he pulled her to the other bedroom which was just down the hall from his obviously.

  "This should be better, no feather bed." He smiled down into her face. In that instant she knew she was way too attracted to this man. And she was too vulnerable.

  Her eyes were watering and she felt as though she were crying when she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I loved that bed. It's so soft. I really wanted to sleep in it."

  "Yeah, kinda sinks in, doesn't it?" he asked with another hundred dollar smile.

  "Yes—it does." Suddenly he seemed very aware of her state of dress and his own nearness. He backed away, although there was a reluctance in his eyes.

  Good thinking!

  "Well goodnight. There's a television in the corner over there and the remote is on top." He said starting for the door.

  "Thanks, Sheriff."

  Something in his facial expression changed and he came toward her with a purpose, he pulled her chin up to look into her eyes. How could she ever think those brown eyes were ever cold and hard. "The name's Ben. I'm not always a Sheriff, in fact, I'm off duty..."

  "Ben," she barely whispered.

  He stared into her face and then smiled. "I'm sorry about the handcuffs this afternoon."

  Absently, his fingers grazed her chin and rubbed.

  Erotic...that's what it was!

  "It's okay, no harm done. I guess you had a point. My state of dress was indecent."

  "Goodnight," he said, his head bending just a fraction toward hers before good sense prevailed and he turned and walked out the door.

  She let out a held breath, "Wow, what was that ....?"

  She lay back on the bed, and decided it was time to call it a night. She had to get her heartbeat back to normal. She had to be reasonable. She had to remember Chad.

  But a soft knock at the door brought her up again. "Yes?"

  "I never thought to ask, but is there anyone you need to call?" He asked as she cracked the door and looked at him.

  He had unbuttoned his shirt a little and looked as though he'd been about to get ready for bed himself.

  "I can do it tomorrow."

  "Yeah, right, well, goodnight again," he said his eyes traveling her slowly.

  "Goodnight, Sheriff." she said with a smile and closed the door.

  She leaned against it, closed her eyes and imagined all the things a girl shouldn't imagine when she's stranded with a hellova good looking man. She doubted she'd sleep tonight.

  Chapter Four