by him or the situation, he couldn’t see it. Although as she’d so helpfully pointed out, he was locked in, too, which kind of took the starch out of his intimidation factor.
How the hell could he have forgotten to put the keys in his pocket before walking her in here? That wasn’t like him. The movement was automatic, muscle memory.
As much as he hated to admit it, she was probably right. It had been a crazy night, and there’d been a lot of calls to the sheriff’s office. He’d been busy, distracted.
Now he was uncomfortably and undeniably distracted by his “roomie,” who wanted to share personal information. Last time he’d checked, it wasn’t a cop’s job to spill his guts to a detainee.
“You want to join hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’ because it’s not bad enough that we’re locked up together?” he asked.
“No.” She shifted on the bunk and spread out the damp skirt of her sundress. “Look, the fact is that we’re stuck in here, unless one of us can bend steel in their bare hands, and that sure isn’t me.”
“Superman. That’s just great.” He nodded grimly.
Doing the right thing had cost Russ his law enforcement career in Denver, but somehow that never seemed to happen to the legendary comic book superhero. And Lois Lane never dumped him when everyone else thought he was gum on the bottom of their shoe.
“Seriously, Russ, we don’t know how long it might be before someone comes looking.”
“I don’t think it will be that long before Gage checks in.” He hoped he was right about that, but the situation in the park hadn’t been quieting down when he’d brought Lani in.
“That’s just wishful thinking because obviously you don’t like me very much.”
“Arresting you wasn’t personal.” Russ figured it was best not to put a finer point on that statement by saying he didn’t want to like her. There was a difference. “It’s my job.”
“Whatever.” She met his gaze. “We could sit here in awkward silence. Or we can make conversation to help the time pass a little faster.”
He hated to admit it, but she had a point. “Okay. But if you say anything about braiding each other’s hair, I’m pretty sure my head will explode.”
“If only.” She gathered the stringy, drying strands of her long hair and lifted them off her neck. “I’d give anything to be able to brush this mess.”
“You should have thought of that before dancing in the fountain—”
She held up a finger to stop his words. “I thought we had a truce.”
“My bad.”
“Okay, then. Have a seat.” She patted the mattress next to her. “There’s nowhere else to sit in here. I’ll have to have a word with your decorator about what a conversation area should look like.”
He didn’t want to sit next to her but couldn’t say so or he’d have to explain why. And he didn’t quite understand that himself, other than the fact that he’d just arrested her. Since she occupied the center of the bunk and showed no inclination to move, he took the end, as far away from her as he could get.
Lani looked at him expectantly and when he didn’t say anything, she cleared her throat. “I was born here in Rust Creek Falls twenty-six years ago, number five of six children.”
“Braiding hair is starting to sound like a high-speed freeway pursuit.” When she laughed, the merry sound burrowed inside him, landing like a gentle rain that softened rock-hard soil.
“Compared to what you do my life is boring, but I like it. And I love this town.” She shrugged. “I live with my parents here in Rust Creek Falls and work on the family ranch, which is north of town. I do everything from mucking out stalls to riding fence and feeding stock.”
“What about working at the Ace in the Hole?”
“That’s part-time. Rosey Traven, the owner, is the best boss in the world.”
Russ had been in his share of bars and seen how badly guys who drank too much behaved. A woman as beautiful as Lani would be a first-class target for come-ons and drunken passes. The thought of some jerk hitting on her made him almost as mad as the water in his boots. But all he said was, “It probably gets rough in there.”
“It can sometimes. But Rosey’s husband, Sam, was a navy SEAL. He knows three hundred ways to immobilize a creep with a cocktail napkin.”
That made Russ feel a little better, but not much. “What do you like about the job?”
Her shrug did mind-blowing things to what was under the top part of that sundress. The material was thin, still damp, and he could almost see her breasts. They looked just about perfect to him and made his hands ache to touch her and find out for sure. And this wasn’t the first time he’d experienced that particular feeling around her, but he’d always made sure not to get too close.
“I’m a people person,” she finally said. “I like chatting with the regulars, and almost everyone in Rust Creek Falls comes in to hang out at some point or other. You know, guys’ nights, girls’ night out, poker games...or people just coming in for a burger and a beer. I like hearing what’s going on in their lives and apparently, that makes them want to talk to me.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.
“What’s funny?” she asked, a small frown marring the smooth skin of her forehead.
“My job is the polar opposite. I’m a detective for Kalispell PD, and no one wants to talk to me.”
“I see what you mean.” She smiled her happy, under-the-influence smile. “But can you blame them? It makes a difference when your job is selling drinks as opposed to interrogating a perp.”
“I suppose.”
She half turned toward him in her earnestness to make him understand. “I’m somewhere between a family counselor and confessor. People feel comfortable baring their heart and soul to me, and I take that as an obligation. I consider it part of my job description to offer sensible advice or sometimes to simply listen. Whatever the situation calls for.”
“I had no idea the job was so demanding.”
“Go ahead. Make fun.” There was annoyance in the look she settled on him. “But I think people trust me.”
“In what way?”
“Rust Creek Falls is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and some people think that gives them the right to every last detail of a person’s life. But some things shouldn’t be spread around. I know the difference, and folks who know me know I’ll keep that sort of information to myself.”
“I know what you mean about a small town,” he said.
“How? Kalispell is a pretty big city compared to Rust Creek.”
“I grew up in Boulder Junction. It’s a small town about halfway between here and Kalispell.”
She
