A Wedding Worth Waiting For

* * *

Sam felt her cheeks heat. That hadn’t gone the way she’d planned. “Like I said, the rules are there for a reason. Going off on your own, half-cocked, when there are poachers around—”

He held up a hand and grinned, his white teeth in stark contrast to his tanned skin. “Hey, no hard feelings. You did what you had to do.”

“Exactly.”

“And so did I. And hey, it all turned out all right in the end.”

She started to argue, but there was no point in antagonizing him. At least he wasn’t going to give her grief about drawing her weapon. Yes, she’d followed protocol, but a civilian complaint would still look bad on her record. Not to mention the paperwork it would mean. She had enough of that as it was.

Besides, she needed to maintain a good rapport with the locals. She’d been born here on Paradise Isle, but between boarding school and college she’d spent too many years on the mainland to be considered an islander anymore. Time and distance had made her an outsider, and since she relied on tips like the one the volunteer had called in today, gaining the trust of the residents was her top priority. And given that she’d just threatened to shoot one of them, she had her work cut out for her. Time to take it down a notch and try to defuse the situation.

Of course, it would be a bit easier to relax and make nice if he was more normal-looking. Maybe even a bit homely. But no, he had to be drop-dead gorgeous: tall, with broad, athletic shoulders and a lean swimmer’s build. She pegged him for a surfer. He had the sun-bleached shaggy hair and perfect tan that seemed typical of the beach bum crowd, with ocean-blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He definitely didn’t look like the director of a nonprofit, and truth be told, his movie-star looks were a bit intimidating.

They came out of the woods behind the gas station just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. Dylan moved past her in the dim twilight, heading for an old, beat-up pickup parked beside the gas station. There were what looked like dog kennels in the back, the kind used for airline travel, lashed in place with cables. Without a word he lifted the baby deer from his shoulders and tucked it into the largest cage, securing the latch with a sigh. “I’ll take him back to the center, get him fed and settled in for the night.”

She tried to smile around what felt like a dismissal. “I still have some questions for you. For my report.”

He shrugged and raised the tailgate. “Well, then, I guess you’re coming, too—Officer.” He gave a mock salute before climbing in the cab of his truck and driving off.

Sam counted to ten twice as she made her way back to her patrol vehicle. What an arrogant...well, arrogant pretty much summed it up. The man oozed confidence from his pores. She was in full uniform, carried a badge and had even drawn her weapon, but he’d been the one in control of the situation, from start to finish. Even covered in mud, he had a bearing that demanded respect. Meanwhile, she still felt like she was playing dress-up half the time. Maybe her instructor at the academy had been right; maybe she wasn’t cut out for this line of work. But damn it, she’d aced her course work and held her own in the physical tests, as well. She’d even broken the academy record for sharpshooting.

She’d worked hard to prove her instructor wrong, to prove that she had what it took. So why did she still let guys like this get to her? He hadn’t even done anything particularly awful. Yes, he should have waited for law enforcement to get there, but even she could see his motives were good. And he’d stayed calm and relaxed even when she’d been sweating bullets. Maybe because he had the kind of easygoing confidence she’d always envied. The kind that came from really knowing yourself and being comfortable in your own skin. That was something she hoped to find for herself, and one of the reasons she’d come back to the only true home she’d ever had.

Getting in her car, she checked the GPS. The rehab center wasn’t far, and if she hurried she could pick up some food first. An “I’m sorry I almost shot you” gesture. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to think this was something other than professional. Friendly was good, flirting was not.

Shaking her head at her own indecision, she started the engine and rolled down the windows. Maybe some fresh air would clear her head. She’d initially been drawn to law enforcement because of her father’s involvement, but the clear lines between law and order, right and wrong resonated with her. Unlike some of her fellow officers who chafed at following protocol, she found freedom in following the rules. Rules created order out of chaos. Rules made her feel in control. Without rules, anything could happen, which was probably why she’d reacted so badly to him tracking all over her crime scene. That, and her inner teenager’s reaction to a hot guy. Neither was an excuse she felt like sharing.

Letting her stomach do the thinking, she pulled into Lou’s Pizza. She needed to eat dinner at some point anyway—might as well share.

Inside, the tangy aromas of tomato sauce and pepperoni tickled her nose, bringing back memories of Saturday night pizzas with her dad. Once upon a time, they’d made it a weekly tradition, just the two of them. That was before her mother died, before the close relationship she’d had with the man she’d worshipped as a hero had degraded into long-distance phone calls and painfully awkward visits home.

Now that she was back in Paradise, she was going to change that. After all, if she couldn’t win over her own father, what chance did she have with the townspeople?

* * *

Dylan’s hands were kept busy over the next half hour as he dealt with the logistics of caring for an orphan fawn, but his mind was focused on the sexy wildlife officer who’d almost shot him. Shoveling clean shavings into a pen, he wondered what was wrong with him. She’d been armed, rude and way too uptight to be his type. He liked free spirits, women who knew how to let loose and have fun. Women who understood that life was about finding happiness while you could.

He wasn’t sure Officer Finley—he’d seen her name on the badge—even knew what fun was. All work, no play was the vibe she gave, with her perfectly pressed uniform and no-nonsense ponytail. No jewelry, no noticeable makeup. Of course, she hadn’t needed any, not with her looks. She almost had an exotic appeal, like a buttoned-up version of Angelina Jolie. He had a way with animals and women, and something told him there was a vixen hiding behind that badge.

The fawn pushed up against him, demanding attention.

“All right, I get it. You’re almost as bossy as she was.” He took a minute to smooth down the bedding, and then headed toward the main building, the animal tottering along beside him. He was just about to unlock the door when the sound of gravel crunching announced a visitor. He’d wondered if she’d show. He waved, then waited as she climbed down, then opened the back door and pulled out a flat white box. Oh, holy hell. She’d brought food.

“If some of that’s for me, you can arrest me right now and I won’t resist.”

She startled for a second, then shrugged and grinned. “You said you wanted pizza, and I hadn’t eaten yet, so...”

“So you took pity on me. I wouldn’t have thought I liked pity, but if it comes with pepperoni I think my ego can handle it.”

“Pepperoni and sausage.”

“My angel of mercy. Come on in.” He held the door for her, flipping on the lights to illuminate the way-too-small office area that served as command central. He pointed to the largest of the cheap metal desks. “You can sit at my desk if you like. I’ve got to go finish up with the fawn, but it shouldn’t take me very long.”

“I can help, if you like. Might go faster with two people.”

That he hadn’t expected. Maybe he was right, and she wasn’t as standoffish as she pretended to be. “Sure, another set of hands is always welcome here.”

Picking up the fawn, who had curled up on the floor at his feet, he headed for the door at the rear of the room. “The treatment area is back here.”

Without being asked, she flipped the switch by the doorway, flooding the large utilitarian space with fluorescent light. Twice the size of the office and reception area, the room boasted stainless-steel counters, refrigerators, an industrial washer and dryer, and several examination tables. One full wall was taken up by cages of various sizes, only one of which was occupied. The current resident, a tortoise with a wounded foot, looked up and then promptly went back to sleep.

Dylan put the fawn down on a large walk-on scale and made a mental note of its weight. He’d fill out a treatment form for him once he was settled. “Officer, could you keep an eye on our furry friend here, while I mix up some formula for him?”

“Sure.” She took his place at the orphan’s side, stroking the dappled fur.

He moved to the back counter, where the milk replacement powder and bottles were kept. “You know, if we’re going to eat pizza together, maybe you could tell me your first name? It seems a bit formal to keep calling you Officer.”

She bit her lip, obviously more comfortable with that layer of formality between them, before nodding reluctantly. “It’s Sam, Sam Finley. I guess I didn’t get around to introducing myself before.”

“No worries.” He knew when to back off, when to stop pushing. She was as skittish as the fawn, more so really. The little deer had already started bonding with him. She, however, was doing that one-step-forward, two-steps-back thing that he often saw in the animals they took in. Better to let things lie for a bit, rather than scare her off.

He mixed up the powder with warm water, then screwed the top on the bottle. “Want to try feeding him?”

She looked up, eyes wide. “Me?”

“Sure. It’s not hard, and he might appreciate a woman’s touch. He certainly seems taken with you.”

She looked down to where the fawn was practically wrapped around her legs, then reached for the bottle. “Just tell me what to do. I don’t want to hurt him.”

He handed it to her. “You won’t. Just tickle his lips with it a bit, and hold on tight.”

She started to crouch down to the fawn’s level.

“No, up high. Remember, the mama deer would be standing up.” He guided her arm up into the right position, surprised by the firmness of her biceps and by the heat that shot through him at the casual touch. She was stronger than he’d realized, and more potent, too. Like aged whiskey, she packed a quiet punch.

Leaning against the counter, he watched as she coaxed the deer. Her smile was back, and when the hungry baby head butted her clumsily she actually laughed out loud. “Careful, or I’m going to start think you’re a nice person.”

She looked up, startled. “Excuse me?”

“First you bring pizza, now you’re helping out and enjoying it. Laughing even. What happened to the by-the-book wildlife officer that held me at gunpoint?”

Chapter Three

Sam turned back to the deer, her shoulders stiffening. “You’re right. I’m on duty, I should let you do this so I can do what I need to do. Then I can get out of your way.”

“Hey, I’m just teasing.” He motioned for her to stay where she was. “I mean, you do seem different, but in a good way. No offense, but you were giving off a very different vibe out there in the woods.”

“Maybe because it was a crime scene?”

He shook his head, rejecting her defense. “No, I mean, sure, that explains some of it. But you’re doing it again right now, putting up some kind of virtual keep-out sign. Which, hey, if that’s the way you want it, is fine. We can go back to the cops-and-robbers routine if you like that better.”

No, damn it, she didn’t like that better. Keeping people at a distance was exactly the opposite of what she was supposed to be doing. Old habits died hard, but if she was going to learn to connect to the citizens here, to earn the kind of trust she needed for her job, she needed to find a way to be more approachable. Too bad she had no idea where to start.

Realizing he might be mistaking her silence for agreement, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’m kind of out of practice when it comes to making friends.” Pathetic, but true.

But he didn’t laugh, or question her statement. Just shrugged. “I’m out of practice when it comes to following orders, if that helps. Not a lot of perfect people walking around. But I think you might be better at making friends than you think.” He pointed at the fawn, who had finished the bottle and was now curled up on the floor, his head on her foot, fast asleep.

“It’s easier with animals. They don’t expect you to know about the latest fashions or which pop singer is divorcing which reality star.”

He laughed, and her breath caught in her chest. Energy and beauty radiated from him like warmth from the sun. He was everything she wasn’t. And he didn’t even know it.

“I think maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowds of people, if you think that’s what they want to talk about.”

“I haven’t been doing a lot of hanging out at all. Work keeps me pretty busy.”

“Uh-huh.” He moved in closer, then bent and scooped up the sleepy fawn. “Most people, at least the ones worth knowing, are looking for the same things the rest of the living world wants. Someone to stick by them, someone they can trust and, yeah, someone to have fun with.”

“It’s that last part that I need to work on.” Why was she telling him all this? He obviously had no idea what it was like to be on the outside looking in.

“Maybe you just need a bit of practice. Having fun, I mean.” He moved toward another door, across the room from where they’d come in, somehow managing the knob and the deer at the same time. She followed him out onto a mulched path leading to a set of enclosures. He stopped at one of the smaller ones, empty except for a thick layer of woodchips and a bucket of water. “Your room, sir.” The spindly-legged fawn sniffed around the small fenced area, then curled back up and closed his eyes.

“No insomnia for him,” Sam commented, with no small amount of envy.

“Nope. He’s got a belly full of food and a safe place to sleep. He’ll be fine.”

“Thanks to you.” She looked up at Dylan, daring to make eye contact in the dim starlight. “I’m glad you didn’t listen to me, that you went after him. Sorry I gave you such a hard time.”

“No worries. You can make it up to me by catching the lowlifes that shot his mother.”

Her shoulders dropped. “I’ll try. Trust me, there is nothing I’d like more than to put handcuffs on them. But your friend didn’t get the license number, and there are a million tan Ford pickup trucks in this part of the state. My best chance at catching them is for someone to turn them in.”

“Does that happen often?” He locked the gate on the pen, then headed back to the main building, motioning her to follow.

“Actually, it does. There are some pretty big rewards for tips that lead to an arrest. One of the secrets to being a good wildlife officer is having a personal connection with the community. If you have enough people that know you and trust you, then they can be an excellent source of information. That’s why I was assigned here, in Paradise. I was born here, so the brass assumed I’d have a natural connection with the townspeople.”

He led them back to the office area and flopped down in a chair. “That makes sense.”

Sitting across from him, she opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice. “On paper, yes. In real life, not really.” She took a bite and let the flavors roll across her tongue. If heaven was a food, it would be pizza. Chewing, she debated how much to share. “I actually only lived here until I was ten. After that I went to boarding school, and then college. Other than a few school vacations, I haven’t been in Paradise in over a decade.”

“Have you been able to connect with any old friends from back when you lived here?”

She shook her head. “When you’re a kid, it’s out of sight, out of mind—I lost touch with everyone years ago. So now I’m starting from scratch, unless you count the town librarian. I spent a lot of time hiding out there the few times I did make it home.”

Dylan swallowed the last of his slice. “Bookworm, huh? Remind me to show you my bookshelves sometime.” He waggled his eyebrows in a parody of seduction. “But I can see how that would make things awkward. Making friends in a new place is hard enough. Making friends in a place where everyone already knows you, that’s a whole different thing.”

“Exactly. I’m the new girl in town, except I’m not.”

“What about your family? Are they still local?”

The bite of pizza in her mouth was suddenly hard to swallow. Folding her hands in her lap, she forced herself to answer the question; her family history wasn’t exactly a secret in Paradise. “My mom died when I was a kid.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were ones she’d heard many times, but she could tell he was sincere.

“Yeah, well, after that Dad just kind of shut down—hence the boarding school. He’s actually with the FWC as well, but when she passed he took a desk job. He spends pretty much every waking hour holed up in his office in Ocala. Not much time for friendships.” Or his daughter. “I know that sounds like the pot calling the kettle black, but at least I’m trying to put myself out there.”

“You’ll figure it out.” He helped himself to another slice.

“I’m going to have to. I can’t do my job properly otherwise.” Something her boss had made very clear to her during a private meeting last week. “I’ve got an evaluation coming up, and basically, if I don’t create some ties to the community, I’m going to be looking for another line of work.”

* * *

Dylan coughed, nearly choking on the bite of sausage in his mouth. “What? They can fire you for not being social enough?” She seemed competent, had tracked him and the deer like a pro and was a natural with animals. So what if she was a bit awkward with the two-legged variety?

“Pretty much. There’s a big push in the Fish and Wildlife Commission to be what they call community partners. And my boss is spearheading the effort. If I can’t make myself a part of that, then I’ll be reassigned to an administrative role.”

“I’m guessing that’s not a step up, careerwise.”

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling. “Definitely not. It would be a sign of failure.”

She certainly didn’t seem like someone accustomed to failure. “So what, you just have to make some friends, get to know the locals, that kind of thing?”

“Pretty much. The Outdoor Days Festival is coming up, and my boss will be here for the opening ceremonies. My plan is to be able to mingle well enough by then to impress him.”

“Okay, that sounds like a good plan.”

“Yup. And if I had any idea how to make it happen, I’d be doing okay. As it is, I think this is the second-longest conversation I’ve had since I moved back here months ago.”

“I’m flattered. But I’ve got to know, who beat me out?”

“My cat.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, it’s easier with animals. But this is definitely my longest human-to-human interaction.”

“Well, that’s something, anyway.” He grabbed two bottles of water from the case stashed next to his desk and tossed her one. “But technically, this is work-related. What you need is a social life.”

She grimaced and took a swig of water. “I’ve heard of those.”

He shook his head. She had a dry wit he hadn’t expected—what other surprises was she hiding? “It’s not so bad, you know. Some people even find socializing fun.”

“Fun is hiking in a forest at dawn or figuring out who did it in the middle of a mystery novel.”

“Sure. But fun is also seeing a movie and then talking about it with friends over ice-cream sundaes. Or picnics on the beach, or a pickup game of volleyball.”

She shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t like people, but a full college course load, plus a part-time job, didn’t leave much time for a social life. Now that I’ve got the time, I don’t have the connections. I can’t exactly walk up to someone I don’t know and ask them to go see a movie.”

“Maybe not, but you could go with me.”

Her jaw dropped open. “Wait, what?”

“I said, you could go with me. I could even bring a few friends, make it a group thing.”

“But why would you do that?”

Because you’re smart, sexy and I like hearing you laugh. “Why shouldn’t I? I mean, besides the fact that you nearly shot me.”

Sam chewed her bottom lip; the simple move sent his blood southward. Not good—just making friends was hard enough. If she realized he was attracted to her, she’d probably bolt. Giving her time to think, he grabbed the new animal intake forms and set them on the desk next to the pizza box. He could fill one out for the fawn while she asked him whatever questions she had. By the time he sat back down, she had a determined set to her shoulders and a gleam in her eye.

“Okay. I’ll do it. But nothing too crazy, okay?”

“Fair enough, we’ll ease you into things.” He looked down at the nearly empty box between them. “How about pizza? I’ll bring a few friends, totally low-key.” He’d rather it be just the two of them, but that would defeat the whole point. “I’ll handle everything. You just need to show up.”

She shook her head, but there was a smile on her lips. “Never let it be said I turned down a chance for pizza. Just let me know when and I’ll be there. In the meantime, I really do need to ask you a few questions about tonight.”

And just like that she was all business again, her smile giving way to lines of concentration.

“You said Jason called you a little before five. Were you here at the center when you got the call?”

“No, I left work early today, so I was driving home by then.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. No doubt Ms. All-Work-and-No-Play never left early. “I had been working on the roof all day, in the rain. I was filthy and soaking wet. I thought I’d run home and shower, and then do some work on my laptop later.” He was being defensive, but darn it, he didn’t want her to think he was a slacker. He got that enough from people. Usually it didn’t bother him, but with her it rankled.

“Okay, so when you spoke with him, what did he say?”

Dylan repeated what he remembered of the short conversation.

“And what was your advice to Jason?”

“I told him to stay put and call the Fish and Wildlife hotline.”

“Thank you for that. Not everyone would have known whom to contact. For that matter, a lot of people wouldn’t have wanted to get involved at all.”

Dylan deflected the praise. “Jason’s a good kid. He wanted to do the right thing.”

“I could tell. Of course, that doesn’t explain why you drove over there yourself, rather than just letting the authorities handle it.”

He shrugged. “He asked me to come and try to find the deer. He was worried about it. I was, too, once he told me. Given how thin the FWC is spread, I wasn’t sure how long he’d have to wait for an officer to get there. And if I hadn’t come, he might have tried to go after it himself. I didn’t want him wandering around in the woods at dusk—not with poachers in the area.”

She rolled her eyes. “And yet you had no problem doing exactly that yourself.”

“I’m not some teenager. And it all turned out good in the end. The deer is safe, Jason’s safe and I got to have dinner with a beautiful woman.”

* * *

Sam adjusted the rearview mirror in her truck and took a hard look at herself. Staring back at her was the same pale skin, brown eyes and oversize mouth she’d always seen. Beautiful? He probably just meant it in some casual, meaningless way. The kind of compliment he gave to everyone.

But it was a first for her.

She stuck her tongue out at herself and moved the mirror back in position before starting the car. No one, other than her father, had ever called her beautiful. She’d spent her teen years hidden behind thick glasses that only amplified the bushy eyebrows she’d inherited. Before college she’d switched to contacts and set up a standing appointment for an eyebrow wax. But she never quite managed the art of makeup, or fashion, for that matter. The few dates she’d gone on had been with boys as nerdy and driven scholastically as she was.