Mike went to the cupboard and returned with two plates. “I hope you didn’t mind me going to the station today.”
“That’s all right.”
“I thought it would be easier to have me out of the way.” He smiled uncertainly and pulled a piece of pizza from the rest of the pie, strings of cheese stretching to his plate. “Dig in.”
Malory followed suit, and after a big bite, she said, “I don’t need you out of the way, you know.”
“No? She seems happy with you.”
“My job is to help with child care. I do all the things you can’t do while you’re working, but I shouldn’t be taking over your role as her parent.”
“I’m not her father. I’m her second cousin,” he replied.
“And I’m not her mother. I’m paid to be here,” she countered. “You’re the closest thing she has to a dad right now.”
His dark eyes met hers for the first time. Then his gaze flickered toward the window. “I’m afraid to let her get attached to me.”
“Children need to bond to someone,” she replied quietly.
“She’s bonding to you.”
“Yes.” Malory sighed. She knew what he wanted—for her to take care of the emotional needs of the child so that when he had to let go of her, it would hurt less. She understood, even if she completely disagreed. “Kids need to know that they’re loved in the world, even if they have to say goodbye. Sometimes it’s good for them to see that they leave an empty space behind them and that it’s hard to let go of them.”
Mike didn’t answer for a moment, and she wondered if she’d overstepped. Then he sighed and met her gaze.
“I’m not great with kids.” His voice rumbled low. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You’ve already started.” She gave him a smile. “And you’re doing just fine.”
He snorted and took a bite of pizza. For a few minutes they focused on eating. Malory polished off three pieces before she started to slow down. She remembered her pregnant friends saying that the baby was hungry, and it had seemed like a silly cover for eating like a teenager again. But now she understood. She was famished in a way she’d never experienced before, and it sure did feel as if the baby inside her was calling the shots.
“So, tell me about you,” he said, changing the subject. “Are you from Montana?”
“No, I’m from Baltimore.” She popped a stray piece of pepperoni into her mouth.
“This is a long way from home, then.”
“Home is relative.” She shrugged, and when he cast her a curious look, she conceded, “My mom and I moved around a lot.”
“Army?” he asked.
“No, just...moving.” They’d moved for so many reasons. Once to get away from a boyfriend who wouldn’t accept that her mother was done with him. Several times they’d moved for promising new relationships that hadn’t turned out to be as great as they’d seemed. Malory didn’t like to talk about the hard times she and her mother had had together, so she just offered a wan smile.
“That sounds kind of tough.”
“It was, so I’ve got a soft spot for kids who need stability.” She took another piece of pizza and piled the strings of cheese back on top of the slice.
“So live-in positions must be hard. Can’t settle too long anywhere,” he commented.
“Well, like I said, I needed the change of scenery.” She shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I’ve gotten used to it. Besides, as an adult, I have control over my life. It’s an entirely different situation when you can choose to move instead of being dragged somewhere.”
He didn’t answer at first. His face was ruggedly handsome, his chin bristled with stubble. The lines around his dark eyes betrayed a sense of humor—the man had smiled a lot in his lifetime, even if he seemed serious now. He swallowed.
“I’ve lived in Hope since I was about ten,” he said. “I know pretty much everyone in this town—and being a sheriff, I probably know them better than they’d like.” He laughed.
“You’d think a place this small would be pretty quiet for law enforcement,” she said past a bite of pizza.
He shook his head. “It’s the opposite. Domestic disturbances, drunk and disorderlies, teenage house parties. It probably looks pretty quiet from the outside, but I get a bird’s-eye view of pretty much everything.”
She nodded. “You hold secrets.”
“Enough of them. But they hold enough of mine, too. I think that’s part of what makes a place home—swapped secrets.”
Malory arched a brow. “You don’t seem like you’d have too many skeletons.”
“Not too many personal ones,” he agreed. “But my family was an out-of-control lot. When I was growing up, the cops came by my place on a weekly basis. My mom died when I was young, and my dad was all I had. He was an alcoholic, and being part of the Cruise clan wasn’t a good thing, I can assure you.”
“You seem to have turned out all right, though.”
“I figured there had to be something more to life.”
“I get that.” She nodded slowly. “It wouldn’t be easy, though.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, seeming ready to drop the topic.
“So what did you do?”
“Hmm?” He wiped his lips with a napkin.
“How did you come out on top?”
“A cop took me under wing.”
“Oh?”
“As a kid, I started out as a troublemaker. I got into a lot of fights. Started most of them. But one day a cruiser dropped my dad off at home—I don’t remember what he’d done that time. The cop took one look at me, and he must have seen something worth saving, because he passed me his card and said I could call him if I wanted a job.”
“What kind of job?” she asked.
“Yard work. He was clearing out some trees on his property. So I called him, he put me to work and he paid me. That was the first time I worked for anything, and it felt good.”
She smiled. “And the rest is history?”
“Pretty much.” He chuckled. “Everyone in this town knows all about my humble beginnings, so it isn’t much of a secret. In fact, there are probably about six or seven old ladies quite willing to fill you in.”
“Well, you’re lucky,” she admitted. “But you don’t want to be that
