His mother turned to see what was happening, and Shane watched as their pain-in-
his
-ass neighbor turned innocent eyes to her hostess.
A suspicious look passed from one to the other. Obviously unable to catch them doing anything—she never had in the past either—his mother turned back to the stove once more.
“How was that cake? Isn’t it good? It’s a new recipe Krista wanted to try. I think it’s far better than the one I’ve been making all these years.”
Shane swallowed the last bite. “I like yours better.” No way was he going to let Krista get any type of approval from him. “But about this little lunch club you have going—”
“I really wish you would stop going on about it.” His mother stepped away from the stove. “Krista, can you get me some more cinnamon from the basement?”
Krista left the kitchen and he commented, “Isn’t she a little old now to be helping you in the kitchen? When is she going to get a life?”
His father poured a cup of coffee and leaned his hip against the counter. “That’s pretty good coming from you.”
Shane’s jaw dropped. “Me? You don’t think
I
have a life? The whole marine reserve, deployment to Iraq, not to mention the fact that I’m a deputy sheriff—that isn’t a life?”
His father glanced at his wife. “As far as your mother is concerned, unless you’re married and giving her grandbabies, the rest is just your job, not a life.”
“I’m very, very proud of you.” She crossed the room and picked up some more apples from the table. “But it would be nice if you’d stop breaking up with all these nice girls and just marry one of them.”
“Which one should he have married?” Krista returned to the kitchen and apparently seemed to think she could join in the conversation. “I mean, if you could have had your pick, which one would you have chosen? By the way, you’re out of cinnamon, Mary.”
Shane scowled and finished his coffee. He could certainly use another cup, but that would mean an even longer time here with Krista and her comments.
“I’m out of cinnamon—completely?” His mother commented, then tipped her head in contemplation of the previous conversation. “I’ve loved all of Shane’s girlfriends. He could have had a nice marriage with any one of them.”
“Well, not all of them.” His father shared an amused look with Krista, and they both laughed.
“What about the one with the blue hair and all the piercings?” His father grinned.
“I heard from the gals down at the beauty shop that those piercing were
everywhere
, if you get my drift,” Krista added.
Mary tsked again. “Patty was a nice girl. She just wasn’t sure who she wanted to be.”
The same annoying laugh he’d heard his whole life filled the room as obnoxious as ever.
“I think when she went to Vermont and married Carole. She knew she didn’t want to be with Shane.” Krista turned and raised her eyebrows at him. “It’s kind of funny that you were so bad she ran into the arms of another woman.”
His father chuckled, and even his mother bit back a smile.
“Well, at least none of
my
exes are doing time. How is old Bruce by the way? Still getting out in four to six?” He was rewarded by the red stain that tinged Krista’s cheeks as her blue eyes shot daggers at him.
“I don’t have any contact with Bruce.”
“No? Wow, jeez, Mom, maybe when he gets out you should invite him to lunch.”
“Stop it, both of you. Bruce was a nice boy. He had a rough childhood with his mother running off with that delivery man and never knowing his father. Poor kid, he never had a chance.”
Shane didn’t even bother to comment. The guy had been a punk all through high school, and nothing thrilled him more than the day he’d slapped the cuffs on him. In typical Krista way, she hadn’t even reacted, simply watched as he shoved her boyfriend into his car and hauled him away.
His father walked back into the kitchen with another bushel of apples. Shane hadn’t even noticed he’d left.
“This is the last bushel for today. Tomorrow they’ll be picking the Ida Reds and the Galas.”
His mother nodded. “That’s fine.” She turned to Krista. “We’ll make apple crisp in the morning for the senior center. That will give us enough time to get a few dozen pies done for the shop this weekend.”
“Who’s working Saturday?” Shane picked up his empty plate and moved to the sink with it. “I’m off and planned to spend the day there.”
“That’s terrific, honey. Krista will be working. I was going to stay and help her, but now that you’re going to be there, I can go with your father out to your grandparent’s house. The roof is leaking, again.”
Shane’s head snapped up, and he spun back around. “Why don’t I go out to Nana and Papa’s, and you stay and help with the stand?” He’d rather do the entire roof by himself in the pouring rain than work at the Apple Basket with Krista all day.
“That’s sweet of you, dear, but helping at the shop is all we need.”
“That’s me, Mr. Sweet.”
“That’s not what was discussed at lunch today.” Krista picked up a paring knife and quickly made short work of an apple peel.
“You weren’t at lunch. And do you know why you weren’t at the lunch?” Shane picked up his hat and settled it on his head. “Because in order to be a member of this little lunch club my mother’s put together, you had to have slept with me. And, trust me, that is
never
going to happen.”
Krista opened her eyes wide. Her lower lip quivered dramatically. “Oh, Shane!” She turned to his mother. “Do you hear your son? All my hopes and dreams of one day getting to wash his underwear have just been cruelly dashed.” She lowered her head to her arms and began to wail. “It’s not fair! How will I go on? Life just isn’t worth living!”
He wasn’t amused as his parents laughed.
His mother must have thought he was getting too angry, because she stepped closer and settled her hand on his arm. “Your father is putting steaks on the grill tomorrow night. We’re having some of the neighbors over for an end of the summer deck party. Why don’t you bring a date and join us?”
“You think I’d seriously introduce anyone else to you? No way.”
His mother bit her bottom lip and turned hurt eyes away from him. “I’m sorry you’re upset with me, Shane.”
His gut clenched. Damn she was good. She could wrap him around her little finger without any effort, especially when those green eyes went wide and filled with her disappointed look. He immediately felt as if
he
was the one who had done something wrong.
“Stop the lunch club, Ma. I don’t like it.”
She stepped back over to him. “You know I would rather cut off my own hand than hurt you.”
He knew better than to trust her. “But?”
“This isn’t about you. Not anymore.” She shrugged. “They’re my friends, and I’m not going to suddenly break off contact with them because
you
told me to.”
“Give it up, son. You can’t win against her.” His father settled his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “I’ll be back in around six.”
Once again, his mother turned to Krista. “Am I seriously out of cinnamon?”
Krista nodded and stood. “I have a huge container at my house. I should have brought it over earlier. I’ll go get it.”
Relieved to no longer be discussing his love life, he watched her slide her feet into a pair of well-worn sneakers. Unlike most girls, her toes were unpainted, but then, he never knew a time when Krista Saunders felt the need to go the girly route with painted nails and makeup. Not that she needed any. Krista was a natural beauty. She annoyed the hell out of him, but he was still a guy and couldn’t help but notice she’d grown into a pretty sexy woman. As a teenager, her legs and arms had been long and gangly, like an awkward colt, her father used to say. But something happened along age twenty-one, and suddenly her entire body was in complete proportion in a package that he knew some of the guys in town would love to get to know better. He’d gladly give her to any of them, as long as they moved to the other side of the world.
“Shane, be a dear and drop Krista at her house for the cinnamon. Her car isn’t here.” Ignoring Shane’s dropped jaw she turned to the other woman. “When you come back, bring those containers you bought and we’ll fill them up after dinner.” His mother turned her attention back to him. “Are you coming back for dinner tonight?”
Normally, he ate with his parents several times a week, but he’d had enough of a certain neighbor for one day. “No, I’ve got plans. Thanks,” he muttered.
She didn’t argue with him, seeming to sense that he needed to cool off. “I’ll stop by the station tomorrow with some of this coffee cake. I need to catch up with Bertha anyway.”
If anyone could come close to his mother’s gossipy nature, it was the sheriff’s office administrator. Fortunately, she was also the most trustworthy woman he knew. If it was confidential information, Bertha wouldn’t share, no matter who asked.
He bent to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Fine. See you then.”
Without caring if Krista followed or not, he walked out of the kitchen. If she wasn’t outside by the time he was in the car, she could walk.
He’d just opened the car door when she sauntered down the steps as if she had all the time in the world.
His hand slammed the horn with a loud blast. “Come on!”
Krista walked around the car, pulled open the passenger door and plopped into the seat. “Relax. It’s not as if you have to race back to the office.”
He felt his impatience boil. “How the hell do you know if I have to race back there or not?”
He twisted to back up, stretching his arm along the back of the seat. When his hand brushed the back of her hair and she jerked from his touch. Shane scowled. Did she think he did that on purpose? As if he’d get that close to her for any reason.
“Bertha would have called you if there was anything going on. You must feel like quite the big shot with Sheriff Canfield out of town this week.”
He drove down the street from his folks’ house and turned the corner. “It’s a responsibility, not a game.”
Krista shrugged. “If you say so.”
He clenched his hands tight on the wheel. For whatever reason, there wasn’t another woman on earth who annoyed him as much as this one. “Speaking of jobs, what happened to the one you were going to take last month?”
“It wasn’t for me.”
“The job wasn’t for you? How would you know? You never even started.” He couldn’t remember the last time she’d held down a job for more than a couple months.
Next to him, Krista yanked her hair from the ponytail holder and raked her fingers through it. She put the rubber band between her lips, and with both hands, brushed her hair back from her face. Shane couldn’t help but stare as her breasts rose high with her hair-fiddling antics. Along with beautiful legs, Krista had not missed out in other womanly curves. When her hair was once again secured, she dropped her arms and her breasts bounced back into position. His groin jerked irrationally, and he forced his gaze back to the road. What the hell was wrong with him today? That was twice he’d noticed her physically.
“Don’t worry about it.” She glanced out the side window as he pulled into her driveway. “Falls into the category of ‘Not Your Business.’”
He stopped the car. “Oh, like my mother’s little lunch clubs falls into the ‘Not
Your
Business’ category?”
Before she climbed out, Krista turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling in such a way that, for some reason, he wanted to smile back, even as she mocked him.
“What is it you’re afraid they’re saying to your mother that makes you feel so threatened?”
He straightened against the back of his seat. “I don’t feel threatened. I don’t like it. No one would.”
“I think you have some kinky little sex secrets that you don’t want your mother to find out.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” He nodded and let out a disgusted snort. “I’m a closet pervert, and I think the women I’ve dated are going to spill all to my mother.”
“It is odd that you rarely date any of them longer than a few months before you run them off.”
“Just for the record, I don’t run them off. Most of the time, I’m the one who makes the break.”
She nodded. “True. I did hear you have real commitment issues.”
He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “I don’t have commitment issues! Who are you to talk? No job, no boyfriend—what does
that
say about commitment issues.”
She shook her head. “Poor Shane, always have to try to make me look bad when you get nervous.” She slid out of the car and turned to lean back in. “Don’t worry, Deputy Donovan, no matter what those women say about you, your mama still loves you.” She shut the door and scampered up the sidewalk to her house.
Shane watched her push the door open. He rolled his eyes unable to remember how many times he’d lectured her on keeping it locked. She lived alone, and while their town was as safe as could be, it was still not good for a single woman to leave the place unlocked. Some day he was going to hide out inside and give her the scare of her life.
That would teach her. Or not. You never know with her.