A Lawman in Her Stocking Read Online Free Page B

flowered polyester as the women crowded into Corny’s pink Cadillac and Helen Washburn’s old Buick. “They mentioned something about an emergency meeting of the B.S. Club.”
    Brenna arched a perfectly shaped brow. “B.S. Club?”
    “Uh…Beautification Society.”
    Way to go, Chandler . He’d just slipped up and told her the men’s secret name for the town’s only women’s organization. A name that the men knew better than to mention in front of any of the club’s members.
    He cleared his throat. “They…uh, get together once or twice a month and share the latest gossip.”
    “I get the distinct impression that secrets aren’t kept for very long around here,” she said.
    “Everyone knowing your business is one of thehazards of living in a small town,” he said, relieved that she’d let his less than flattering reference to the organization pass. He placed a hand on her back to usher her across the quiet street and felt a jolt travel up his arm and spread across his chest.
    “Just a minute, Sheriff,” she said, stiffening beneath his touch. “Why can’t we talk right here?”
    A slight tremor coursed through her, and he knew it had nothing to do with the chill of the autumn evening.
    Good. At least he wasn’t the only one affected by the contact.
    “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I asked you to stand out here in the night air.” He did his best to suppress a knowing grin as he added, “You’re already shivering.”
    He almost laughed out loud when he had to trot to keep up with her as she marched across the street to Luke’s.
     
    Brenna had only been in Luke’s Bar and Grill twice in the two weeks she’d been in Tranquillity, but both times she felt as if she’d taken a step back in time. Wanted posters from the late 1800s decorated the walls, along with cow skulls, branding irons and various pieces of old, leather harness. Shiny, brass spittoons were placed on the floor at either end of the bar and the room’s muted light filtered down from suspended wagon wheels with antique lanterns converted to accommodate electricity.
    Sheriff Chandler must have noticed her curiosity as he led the way to an empty table on the far side of the room. “Luke’s granddaddy opened the saloonaround the turn of the century and Luke is pretty sentimental about the place.” He held a chair for her. “How do you take your coffee?”
    “With cream.”
    She watched his long-legged stride carry him to the bar. Sheriff Chandler was as good-looking from the back as he was from the front, she decided. He had the widest shoulders, longest legs and the tightest butt—
    Stunned by the direction her thoughts had taken, Brenna quickly looked away. Had she lost her mind? She had absolutely no interest in Dylan Chandler. No way. None.
    “Here you go,” he said, returning with their coffee. He placed two mugs on the table, then seated himself in the chair opposite her.
    Taking a sip of the steamy liquid, Brenna listened to a country ballad playing on the jukebox as she waited for him to tell her what was on his mind. She wanted to get this over and put some distance between them. Something about the man made her insides quiver and her nerves tingle. And she was mere seconds away from going in search of the nearest candy machine for a chocolate fix.
    Unable to stand the tension any longer, she cleared her throat and asked, “What was it you wanted to talk about, Sheriff?”
    He smiled at her over the top of his cup, making her heart skip a beat. “You got the wrong impression this afternoon and I’d like to set things straight.” She started to interrupt, but he held up a hand. “I wasn’t making light of the situation. But this is a small town, with small-town ways. When someone moves in,most everyone tries to do the neighborly thing and welcome the newcomer with open arms.” He chuckled. “I’ll admit most folks are a little more subtle than Pete, but believe me, he has the best intentions. After you