Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily) (2 page)

“Hi, honey, what can I get you?”

The throaty voice startles me, and I shrink back in the booth before looking up. The waitress, a curvy woman with bright red curls, freckles, and chocolate brown eyes, stares back at me.

“Easy, gal. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She removes a pen from the front pocket of her stained apron and hovers it over a thin pad. “What can I get for you?”

“C-coffee.” I find my voice, but I’m unable to hide the tremor.

“Cream and sugar?” The waitress looks sympathetic, like she suspects I’d rather be anywhere but here.

I nod and return my attention to the menu. I don’t have the money to order anything, but she doesn’t know that.

“I’m taking my break, Art!”

The shout accompanies the thunk of a mug on the table in front of me. I lower the menu to see the waitress sliding into the booth seat across from me, her face one big smile.

“Can I help you?” My voice is a little more normal this time.

“Sure. You can pretend we know each other so Art won’t think I’m harassing one of our customers.” She beams back at me and fills the coffee mug from the carafe in her hand. “Name’s Francine. Art’s my brother, but since Daddy gave him the diner, that technically makes him my boss. I just don’t let him think I believe that for a second.” She props her elbows on the table, and the dimples on either side of her mouth crease.

I don’t know what to say to her. The last thing I need is company. Or attention. But I don’t know how to make her go away without sounding rude. “I’m Emily.” I could give her that much. After all, there isn’t a lot she can do with just my first name.

“Well, Emily, what brings you to Juniper Springs?” Francine waves a hand in front of her face. “I know you don’t belong here because I know our regulars. Very few new people pop in here nowadays, what with the economy and all. I think it might have something to do with Art’s cooking, too.” She smirks. “And this town ain’t exactly the tourist capital of the world.”

“I’m just passing through.” My neck starts to prickle like a heat rash. “I won’t be here long.”

Francine places her hand atop the menu so I can’t raise it again. “I don’t mean to be getting into your business and all, but you look completely worn out. And hungry. Can I get you some pancakes or something?”

My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since lunch. I’d been in too much of a hurry, trying to get gone before Mark got home. If only I’d left an hour earlier, I’d be much more prepared, but I had no way of knowing he’d come home early from work. Regardless, I can’t tell this stranger anything other than the basics. With no money, I’m out of options.

She slides out of the booth, and just when I think she’s going to leave me in peace, she returns with a plate of pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns which she sets in from of me. “I’m entitled to a meal here, but I never eat it. So this one’s on the house.”

My gaze goes from the plate to her face. Why was she being so nice to me? She didn’t know me. I don’t know her. So what is her end game? My eyes narrow, but my hunger gets the best of me. My stomach protests its lack of food, loud enough for Francine to hear. Heat rushes up my neck, and I pick up the fork. “Thanks.”

The bench creaks a little when she slides in this time. “So where you heading next?”

My mouth full of eggs, I lift my shoulders in a careless shrug.

“You in any hurry to get anywhere?”

I take a sip of the freshly-brewed coffee and wait for the needed rush of caffeine. “I haven’t really thought much about it.” A shadow moves by the door, and I straighten, keeping watch. Just like it did when I came in, the bell over the glass door jingles, and for a moment, the full moon is eclipsed by familiar, tall, male beauty.

The room shrinks, and my head isn't the only one that turns in his direction. Broad-shouldered and muscled, the man fills out the brown uniform. Some women behind me sigh. A couple giggle behind their menus. I can't take my eyes off of him. We’ve seen each other once before, but the night sky didn’t do him justice. I've never seen someone so...perfect.

Out of all the women in the room, he zeroes in on me. I know it’s because he realizes I lied to him. But he's not looking at me like he cares that I didn’t tell the truth. He saunters toward me, long legs and hips made for a woman's hands. I could picture linking my fingers into his belt loops and pulling him closer.

A trickle of sweat winds its way between my breasts, and though my temperature has risen at least five degrees, I take another swig of my coffee. I need to give my hands something to do besides shake.

Francine snickers. “Yeah, he’s a looker, isn’t he?” She lowers her voice. “That’s our sheriff. Ain’t a woman in this county that isn’t interested in him.”

Except for me. I wasn’t interested. I couldn’t be. I tilt my head upwards just as he reaches my table. Our eyes connect, and the heat in the small diner intensifies.

“Well, howdy, Adam. You’re in late.”

“I took the late shift. Mind if I join you?”

“Don’t mind at all. I gotta get back to work anyway.” Francine slides out of the booth, winks in my direction, and sidles away but not before looking back over her shoulder several times.

“Miss Murdoch, is it?” He takes a seat opposite me and waves two fingers toward the counter. “I believe you were saying something about living here.”

Oh, hell. My throat closes up a little, but I’ve been backed into corners before. He’s not the first animal to put me there. Probably won’t be the last. I come back at him with a bright smile and just the right amount of acid in my voice. “I didn’t think it was really any of your business where I lived.”

His eyebrows rose, thick and luscious over those hazel eyes that melt into me. “You always make it a habit of lying to the police?”

“It was a deserted road, and I wouldn’t be the first woman to not place her trust fully in the police department.”

He relaxed against the booth, a smile curving the corners of his full lips. Perfect lips. “Usually when someone doesn’t trust the police, they have a reason not to. Do you have a reason not to, Emily Murdoch?”

I white-knuckle my coffee mug. “Isn’t there somewhere you need to be? Some patrol you need to be on?” There’s enough snap in my voice to warn him I wasn’t answering any more questions. I’d be rude if it meant getting him off my scent.

“Actually, I just went off duty.” He jerks his chin toward my half-finished plate of eggs. “And that’s beginning to look good. I’ll join you if you don’t mind.”

“You already have.” My jaw hurts because I’m gritting my teeth so tightly. The last thing I want, need, is to get close to someone working for Mark. And I don’t doubt for a moment this sheriff is on Mark’s father’s payroll.

Ike Metzger thinks his son can do no wrong, even if he spends most of his paycheck on booze. And the man is rolling in the dough left over from his own father’s estate. Ike had suggested Mark move back home, but Mark isn’t about to show his father what kind of ass the alcohol turns him into.

“Refill on your coffee, hon?” Francine appears out of nowhere, holding a carafe aloft. I didn’t even see her take it with her when she left. Guess she wanted a reason to return to the table. “Emily?” The liquid is poised over my coffee cup.

My heart is slamming so fast against my ribcage I can barely hear her. I only know I have to get out of the diner. Fast. “No. Thank you.” I slide out of the booth and move very calmly to the checkout counter. Francine knows I can’t pay for the meal. I see it in her eyes, but she’d said it was on the house. I take her at her word and offer her the change for the coffee.

Francine closes her hand around mine. “Don’t worry about it. You just come on back tomorrow morning for breakfast if you’d like.” She tilts her head to one side. “It looks to me like you could use a friend.” Her voice remains low so that the words reach my ears only.

My eyes sting, and I find myself wanting to open up to her, tell her everything. Which is a very dangerous idea with the sheriff right behind me. Instead, I nod and head toward the door. . A hand reaches out in front of me to push it open. I don’t need to look to know who the gentleman is.

“I’ll walk you out.” Not a suggestion. A statement I can’t say no to.

I’d parked my car close to the door. Knowing how very little gas I have left in the tank, I head to the driver’s door anyway as though I have every intention of driving away.

“So where are you actually from, Emily?”

I sigh as the deep voice washes over me like a warm hand down my spine. I shouldn’t be thinking anything except how very far I can get away from him. Instead, my mind is conjuring images of those sinful lips hovering close to mine. That tells me how very far I need to run.

“Does it matter?” I open the car door, but the sheriff closes it. I look up, and his face is close to mine again.

“Yeah. It does.” He’s near enough for me to smell him now. It’s a warm, vibrant scent and jolts my system like a shot of whiskey I haven’t had in a long time.

“Why?” My breath whispers out, fogging in the cold night air. He’s too close, and I start to fidget, needing to keep my hands busy so they won’t grab hold of his shirt. Because that’s what they want to do. Draw him closer. So I can inhale his scent. Taste his skin.

My mouth goes dry, and I fumble with the door handle behind me. Desperation makes my hands useless. I can’t be feeling this way, thinking these things.

“I’m not sure yet.” He takes a step back. The slight wind blows his sandy-blond hair as he stands there looking at me. “My name’s Adam, by the way. Adam Madison.”

“You already know my name.”

“Do I?” He’s looking at my lips which makes me nervous. So I lick them. And when I see his eyes again, they’re full of heat. And promise.

Now leaving is imperative. I can’t hang around this town with him in it. “I’m not staying so you know all you need to know.”

He places one hand on the driver’s door, a move that brings him further into my personal space. Heat radiates off his body. I clench my hands together. “I’ve been a cop a long time, Emily, long enough to recognize a woman’s who’s running from something…or someone.” His other hand settles on the opposite side of me. “If you tell me who it is, I can help you.”

I want to believe him. He sounds so genuine, but I can’t trust myself let alone someone else. He shifts his stance, brushing his hard thighs against my legs. Raw sexual energy exudes from his skin. It’s tangible, and I want to touch it. Get lost in it.

“Emily?” He whispers my name, and I feel his breath on mine.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I have to leave.” Stammering and fumbling, I squirm out from underneath his arms. My body instantly reacts to the loss of heat, the t-shirt I’m wearing doing nothing to protect me.

Adam’s gaze drops at once to my breasts before he slides it back up to my face. “Something tells me you don’t want to leave.”

“It’s not about what I want.” The words are out before I can stop them, and I curse myself silently. “Now, please. I need to go.”

He opens the car door. “Whoever you’re running from can’t get you here, but I can only protect you if you stay. You drive safely.” Once I’m inside my car and buckled up, he touches two fingers to his forehead like an old-fashioned tip of his hat and walks away.

I stare at his retreating back and breathe a little easier as I slide behind the wheel. Believing him would be so easy, but I’m not the same woman I was seven years ago. Now I’m clinging to the mantra of trust but verify. And there’s no way for me to know if this man is on Ike’s payroll. Even if he isn’t, I’m not stupid enough to think Mark won’t come looking for me. And no one would be safe from him and his father…not even a sheriff. .

Chapter Two

A firm tapping on my car window drags me out of a restless sleep. I’d parked the car behind the diner, far enough away from the building that no one could see me if they looked out the windows. But in the light of the early morning dawn, my Volvo sticks out like an apple in a bowl of oranges.

I pull myself up and right my seat. The tapping continues until I look up and see Francine standing there, a frown on her face and a mug of coffee in her hand. A blue scarf is wrapped around her head, and she’s wearing a puffy coat that makes her look like the Michelin Man. I open the door because I don’t want to waste any gas starting the car.

“Did you sleep here all night?” The disapproval in her voice rings out too sharply in the morning, and the smell of coffee is making me salivate.

“I guess I did fall asleep.” I shove my hair out of my eyes. “Is that coffee for me?”

She hands it over, but her brows are still beetled with displeasure. “And I suppose it’s just a coincidence that you parked here before falling asleep.”

I sigh and take a sip of the fragrant brew. It singes my tongue, but I still want to gulp it. The night had been long. I think I managed two hours of sleep at a maximum. It’s going to be an even longer day.

“I was tired.” I summon a smile Francine doesn’t buy for a second. “I knew better than to get back on the road so I thought I’d just take a nap. Guess that turned into an all-nighter.”

Without my permission, Francine pokes her head in the open doorway, her gaze fixed on the instrument panel. “You’re on empty.”

“It’s always on empty when the engine is off.”

She withdraws and folds her arms. “So start it up.”

I grit my teeth. I don’t need a mother, and Francine certainly isn’t old enough to fit that bill anyway. Once I finish off the rest of the coffee, I pass the mug back to her. “Thanks for the wake-up call. I’d better get going. And thanks again for dinner last night. I’ll be fine once I get to a bank.” As the idea hit me, I realize it has merit. I don’t have my ID or ATM card, but I know our account number. It could work as long as I don’t have the bad luck to draw a by-the-book teller.

“Well, until you can get to that bank, you’re coming back inside with me. There’s a bathroom at the back where you can take a hot shower. You got clothes with you?” Before I can answer, she plows on, “Never mind. I’ve got a few things you might be able to wear even though we ain’t exactly the same size.” She yanks open my door a bit further. “Now, are you going in with me, or am I going to have to call Sheriff Madison and report you for trespassing?”