Turner chuckled to himself, thinking about the sight of those long legs and that deliciously round booty hanging out of that window. It was Christmas in July. Finally, he was getting exactly what he’d asked Santa for every year of his life between puberty and graduation—and it was already partially unwrapped.
Candy Pants.
Lord, he’d surely done it now. She was in his arms and in his house and he’d be damned if he’d be letting her go anytime soon. J.J.’s advice echoed in his head for the thousandth time: Make it worth her while to stay.
The truth was, he had little to entice a woman like Candy, a woman who’d become used to a certain kind of lifestyle. He wasn’t rich. He didn’t live in an exciting cosmopolitan city full of culture and entertainment. He wasn’t a particularly fascinating or charming man. Turner was a cop in the middle of nowhere, battling drunk drivers and meth labs and domestic violence, just trying to find joy in the little things in life—his friends and family, good music, good food, the beauty of the mountains, the comfort and peace of his home.
J.J. was only half right. Turner could make it clear that he wanted Candy, but if she decided to stay in Bigler it would have to be for her own reasons. Candy would have to find something that anchored her here, something important enough for her to want to stay. It might very well be a combination of several things, and if Turner happened to be one of them, great. But he wouldn’t put on some kind of front to get the job done. If she decided she wanted to be with him, Turner needed to be certain it was the real him she was interested in.
He placed his lips on Candy’s hair and let them linger there a long moment. Obviously, the physical part of this was going to be easy. The attraction they already felt for each other was damn near explosive, and Turner was sure that once she gave him the green light, the sex was going to be off the chain. In fact, simply having her close to him like this had pushed his body to the breaking point. He was hard enough to pound nails and he wanted nothing more than to throw her down and devour her.
Which was why he needed to get her into her own bed and out of his lap.
“Candy,” he whispered. “Darlin’, wake up.”
In response, she turned into his chest and her hand flopped into his lap, her fingers grazing against the straining zipper of his work pants.
“Shee-it,” he murmured. “Baby, wake up. You should get in bed.”
“Mmm,” she moaned.
Turner’s eyes began to cross. Maybe he should have left well enough alone. Just then, Candy tilted her head up and her lips grazed the side of his neck.
That was all he could take. In one motion he rose from the couch, turned, and lifted Candy in his arms. He carried her to the guest room and laid her down. It took a minute of tugging, and he might have accidentally brushed his hand against her butt and legs a time or two, but Turner managed to pull the covers down beneath her body so that he could pull them up over her. But before he did so, he paused to gaze at Candy while she slept. She was so long, so lovely, so thoroughly covered in that hoodie and those stretch pants that it made him want to howl in frustration. Her feet were bare, so he admired them for a few seconds, then covered her up.
“Good night, beautiful,” he said, as he kissed her cheek.
It was three A.M., too early to go into the office and too late to pretend he’d be getting a decent night’s sleep. So Turner lay down in his bed in the dark, fully dressed, and stared into the night. It wasn’t long before he felt wave after wave of emotion—loss, grief, desire, loneliness—pummel at his resolve. If he weren’t careful, they’d get the best of him. Not tonight, he told himself. Not with Candy in the next room.
Please, not tonight.
He missed Junie with everything in him. He missed the sweetness of her touch and that look she’d give him when he’d said or done something that crossed the line. He missed the way she smelled and the taste of her skin on his tongue. And he’d never forget her. She was a part of him and would stay in his blood until his last breath.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t have room for another woman in his heart, in his blood, in his being. He knew he did, and the woman he wanted was in the next room. Candy was as different from Junie as two women could be. She was fanciful where Junie was practical. She was disorganized where Junie was precise. She was tall and bodacious and blond where Junie was compact and lithe and brown. Candy was not Junie.
But right there in the darkness, Turner pulled Junie close in his prayers, as he often did, and assured her that he would never attempt to replace her. That would be impossible. But it was time, he told her. He was ready to welcome Candy into his world, not as a substitute for someone else, but for the woman she was.
“I need to live again,” he whispered into the night. “And I want Candy.” With that, Turner pulled off the gold band he’d worn on his left hand for more than six years, and placed it in the bedside table drawer.
He clasped his hands over his stomach and waited for Junie to release him—or for him to release himself. He had no idea what the process would feel like or how long it would take, so he breathed quietly, pictured that smile Candy had laid on him in the SUV that night, and felt his chest open with light. And slowly, so slowly, that empty place he’d been carrying around for four years began to fill with something unexpected, magnificent. It was joy. And Turner found himself grinning even as the tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes.
Chapter 16
The cell phone alarm went off as usual, but Candy opened her eyes and froze. Her arms and legs were stretched out on a soft expanse of comfort, not wedged into the shape of Jacinta’s overly stylized sofa. She was in a real bed! In a real bedroom! And the smell of coffee was in the breeze.
She combed her fingers through her hair and staggered out into the hallway, smiling. At some point in the night, Turner had moved her to the bed. He must have carried her, since she had no memory of getting there herself. Something about that made her feel like a princess.
“Turner?” She glanced down the hall to what she figured was his bedroom. The door was open but she saw no movement from within. She went into the kitchen, and saw the note immediately. It was propped up against a clean coffee mug, sugar, and cream already poured into a little pitcher.
“Good morning, beautiful,” it read. “There’s a spare key on the hook near the front door. I hope the coffee is fit for human consumption. Help yourself to anything in the fridge and if all goes to plan I’ll see you at lunch.” He signed it with a big T.
“P.S.,” he wrote. “You are lovely when you’re asleep.”
With a giggle, Candy pocketed the note and poured herself a cup of coffee. She was dressing for work when she thought she heard the front door open.
“Turner?” she called out. There was no response.
For some reason, Candy suddenly felt terrified. It was ridiculous. She was in Turner’s house. There was nothing to fear. No one would dare hurt her here, if anyone would want to hurt her at all. She didn’t even know where such a ridiculous idea came from.
Candy stepped into hallway and gasped at the large man who loomed over her.
“Excuse me,” he said.
It took her a couple seconds to make the connection. “Reggie Halliday?”
“Absolutely. And you’re Candy Carmichael.”
“I am.” Right about then she started to feel really awkward. “Turner’s letting me stay in his guest room for a couple days.”
“Sure. Of course.” Reggie appeared as uncomfortable as Candy felt. She watched as the big man shifted his weight, tried to smile, then walked toward the kitchen. He placed the large Tupperware container he’d been holding down on the countertop, and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Well. It’s really nice to see you again. You enjoying your time in Bigler?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Candy threw her purse over her shoulder and passed by Reggie on her way to the door, where she remembered to grab a spare key. “It’s great to see you, but I’m late for wo
rk. Take care!”
Oh, Lord! As she ran to her car, Candy went over the situation in her head. Clearly, Turner hadn’t told his brother that he had a houseguest, just like he hadn’t told his houseguest that his brother was likely to pop in. Candy only hoped she hadn’t made a total fool of herself.
Just as she reached Lenny’s, her cell phone rang. The first call was from Jacinta. “Are you okay?” she screeched before Candy could even say hello.
“I’m fine. I apologize for what happened last night.”
“Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” she said, not even bothering to hide her giggle. “You got that Spivey boy fired, you know.”
“I know,” Candy said, cutting the ignition and stepping out of the car. “I feel bad about it.”
Jacinta laughed outright. “Well, don’t! I heard at breakfast this morning that he’s been going around telling everyone you’re his girlfriend. He has a picture of you in his cell phone. He claims you make him special cakes because the two of you are in love!”
Candy nearly dropped the phone. “Are you sure you heard right?”
“Oh, good. It isn’t true.”
Candy’s jaw unhinged. “Mother! Of course it’s not true! My God!”
“Well, that’s what I told people at breakfast but they didn’t listen.”
“Great. Well, I’m late for work.”
“Wait,” Jacinta said. “Listen. I want to talk to you about something. Come out to visit me this week sometime, would you?”
Candy laughed. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t been arrested enough lately.”
“Oh, Miller can stick his bylaws up his big, fat ass,” she said. “My daughter can come by for a visit if she wants. I’d like to see him stop you!”
Great, Candy thought. That sounded fun.
She’d just ended the call with Jacinta when Cheri called.
“Is it true?” she asked, out of breath.
“Uh…” Candy was afraid to ask exactly what she was referring to, though she had a good idea. “You mean the window thing?”
“Oh, my God! I told J.J. that there had to be a mistake! But he read about it in the overnight police reports. Are you all right?”
She had been until that second. “Please tell me it’s not going to be in the paper.” Candy pulled open the employee door to find Lenny waiting for her. “Cheri, I’m going to have to call you back on my break.”
“No!” she shouted into the phone. “You can’t! What happened? You’ve got to tell me.”
“Nothing happened,” Candy answered Cheri as she nodded to Lenny. “I got locked out of Jacinta’s apartment and tried to get in through the window, but it turned out to be her neighbor’s apartment and the old buzzard called the police. It was a simple misunderstanding.”
Right then, Lenny started to laugh. The laugh turned into a howl. The howl turned into a guffaw.
“I gotta go,” Candy said. She hung up on Cheri and clocked in. She felt Lenny’s hand on her shoulder.
“Can I just say how much I enjoy you working for me?” he asked.
“Sure,” Candy said. “Go ahead.”
“I already did!” Lenny said, continuing to laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen.
* * *
One of the reasons Turner chose to pursue a law enforcement career in his hometown was the pace. Compared to a major city, Bigler was downright boring, which gave Turner the latitude to focus on one thing at a time and really sit down with folks in their time of trouble and try to get them back on their feet. A small-town job gave him room to think.
But on that particular morning, Bigler might as well have been the Big Apple.
J.J. was waiting for Turner in his regular spot, a look on his face that guaranteed a lively encounter. “Morning, Jay,” Turner said, jogging up the back steps to the municipal building.
“Sheriff,” J.J. said, falling into step with Turner as they made their way through the early-morning hallways. “Sleep well?”
Turner ignored him. He greeted Bitsy, accepted a stack of mail from her hands along with a mug of fresh coffee. “You’re my girl, Bits,” Turner said to his secretary, smiling. “Close the door behind you,” he said to J.J.
“So.” J.J. sat in the chair across from Turner’s desk. “Seems you had an interesting night.”
“Kinda slow, really,” Turner answered him, sorting his mail. “I think a lot of people stayed indoors because of the rain.”
“Right, yeah, except for the ones who were kind of half indoors and half outdoors. You know, like hanging out of a window.”
Turner didn’t look at him. “There was that.”
J.J. laughed. “Damn, Halliday! You mind telling me what was going on out at Cherokee Pines last night? I read your report about Candy and then I get a call from Lorraine Estes telling me that the parking lot out there was crawling with federal agents.”
Turner shrugged, peering at his stack of mail as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. “That lady’s a couple fries short of a Happy Meal, Jay. So you gonna put the story about Candy in the newspaper?”
J.J. chuckled. “I could. I should. The incident is part of the public record. But I spoke to Wainright Miller this morning and he said he’s undecided about filing charges, so I’m not sure how much of a story there really is.”
Turner tossed the pile of mail to the desk and smiled at J.J. “And what does Cheri say about all this?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just that she’ll smother me in my sleep if I run it.”
“You da man, Jay!”
When they stopped laughing, J.J. leaned his elbows on his knees and looked up at Turner with a no-nonsense kind of stare. “Is this another drug task force operation? Is it related to the shooting out at the Tip Top? When can we expect a bust?”
Turner frowned at him. “You know I can’t say.”
J.J. whipped out his notebook. “It’s impossible to hide shit like that around here, especially since there are just two nice bed-and-breakfasts in town and one decent motel, so it ain’t hard to figure out where everyone’s staying. And anyway, I remember Kelly O’Connor from the Waynesville bust last year—she’s kind of hard to forget. I saw her driving around town the other day, and don’t tell me she’s here for the scenery.”
Turner laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “What do you want me to say? I’ll tell you the minute we’ve made a bust and nothing before. That’s how it has to be, Jay.”
His friend sighed. “How soon?”
“Can’t be soon enough if you ask me. I’ll rest easier when this thing is shut down.”
“Meth?”
Turner shook his head. “You know I can’t say anything more. I can’t jeopardize this investigation. Please just sit tight and as soon as I got something that can go public you’ll be the first to know. Same as always, all right?”
J.J. shoved his notebook in his back pocket, suddenly very quiet. When he looked up at Turner again, he saw grave seriousness in his friend’s eyes.
“What?” Turner asked.
“Where’s your wedding ring, man?”
Just then, Bitsy knocked on the door. “It’s Reggie,” she said, barely getting the words out before Turner’s brother pushed past her through the office door.
“Jay!”
Turner observed his brother and J.J. greet each other with enthusiasm and nodded to Bitsy that it was okay. He mouthed a “thank you” to his secretary.
“Hey, come on in, Reg. Really.” Turner waved his arm around the office. “It’s not that I was in here with the door closed engaged in official department business or anything.”
Reggie laughed. “Yeah, whatever. Bitsy told me it was just J.J. so I knew damn well I wouldn’t be interrupting shit. So…” The way Reggie smiled at Turner made him squirm with discomfort. “I ran into someone interesting this morning.”
Turner glanced quickly at J.J. before he looked to Reggie again. “That’s nice. Can this wait?”
“Oh, hell, no!” Without being invited, Reggie pulled up a spare chair and bent himself in half, resting his elbows on his knees. “See, the thing is, I went by your house this morning, T. Mama asked me to drop off some leftover pot roast for you.”
Turner shot up out of his chair, knowing all too well where this was headed. “Listen, Reg, I’m going to have to discuss this with you later.” He stood over his brother and glared down at him. “You should go.”
Reggie only leaned back in the chair, scooted his butt forward, and crossed his legs like he was fixin’ to stay put a while. He smiled up at Turner. “Don’t worry, little brother. I got a few extra minutes before I gotta be in the showroom. I’m in no rush.”
“Yes you are.”
“No, not really.”
J.J. laughed. “What’s all this about?”
“Oh, it seems Turner had a sleepover last night.” Reggie delivered that news with a heavy dose of swagger.
“It’s not what you think,” Turner snapped.
J.J.’s eyes got big. “Say what?”
“Yep.” Reggie’s grin spread. “The lovely Candace Carmichael was just on her way out when I came in. And listen, I haven’t seen that girl in a long, long time, and all I gotta say is, damn, she turned out fine.”
Turner shook his head in disgust and returned to his chair. He knew that no matter how much he tried to explain himself to Reggie he’d only dig the hole deeper. It was a lesson he’d learned a long time ago.
J.J. coughed. Turner looked up at him and nodded his admission.
“Wow,” J.J. whispered.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mama,” Reggie said.
Just then, Bitsy tapped on the door and poked her head in. “May I have a word, Sheriff?”
“Absolutely!” Turner was glad for the interruption. “Gentlemen,” he said, standing. “So sorry but it’s time you—”
“No.” Bitsy cut him off. Her eyes were quite big. “It would be best if they stay in there and you come out here.”
Turner left Reggie and J.J. behind, knowing the two of them would have a rip-roaring good time in his absence. But he couldn’t worry about that now because Bitsy looked dead serious.