“Grace, you just saved my life. How can I ever repay you?”
The woman behind the counter rolled her eyes. “It’s just coffee, Dr. Marshall, not the fountain of youth. If you leave a few coins in the tip jar, we’ll call it even.”
Cassie clutched the cardboard cup like a lifeline, inhaling the rich aroma. “I had an emergency call last night, ended up performing a C-section on a schnauzer at three a.m., and then was double-booked all day. So right now your caffeinated nectar is my only hope of making it through the meeting I’m going to.” She paid for her coffee and took a cautious sip of the scalding brew. “You’re my hero.”
“That kind of flattery will get you the last cinnamon scone, if you want it.”
“Have I ever turned down a free baked good?” Cassie accepted the small white bag with the proffered pastry. “Thanks. This ought to keep me out of trouble until I can get some dinner.”
“Speaking of trouble, here comes that new sheriff’s deputy. I’d be willing to break a few rules if it would get him to notice me.” Grace craned her neck to see more clearly out the curtained front window. “Don’t you think he looks like a man who could handle my rebellious side?”
Cassie nearly spit out her coffee. If Grace Keville, sole proprietor of Sandcastle Bakery, had a rebellious side, she’d kept it well hidden. Even after a full day of baking and serving customers, she looked prim and proper in a crisp pastel blouse and tailored pants. From her lacy apron to her dainty bun, she was the epitome of order and discipline. Not to mention she was happily married and the mother of three. “You’ve never rebelled a day in your life.”
Grace sniffed. “Maybe not, but that man makes me consider it. Hard.”
Rebellion wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d been there, done that, and had considerably more than a T-shirt to show for it. She started to say as much, but stopped at the jingle of the door chimes behind her. Turning at the sound, she caught her breath at the sight of the intense man heading toward her with long, ground-eating strides.
No wonder Grace was infatuated. The man looked like he’d just stepped out of a Hollywood action movie rather than the quiet streets of Paradise, Florida. Thick, dark hair framed a chiseled face with just a hint of five-o’clock shadow. His eyes were the exact color of the espresso that scented the air, and reflected a focus that only men in law enforcement seemed to have. Even without the uniform she’d have known him for a cop. Sexy? Sure. But still a cop. And she’d had her fill of those.
“I’m here to pick up an order. Should be under Santiago.”
Grace grabbed a large box from the top of a display case. “I’ve got it right here—an assortment of cookies, right?”
“That’s right.”
“What, no doughnuts?” Uh-oh, did she say that out loud?
He gave Cassie a long look before quirking up one side of his mouth. “Sorry to ruin the stereotype.”
Grace glared at Cassie before attempting to smooth things over. “Deputy Santiago, I’m Grace. I’m the one you spoke to earlier on the phone. And this is Dr. Cassie Marshall, our resident veterinarian.”
“Nice to meet you Grace, Dr. Marshall.” He nodded at each in turn. “And off duty it’s Alex, please.” He smiled then, a real smile, and suddenly the room was too warm, too charged, for comfort. The man’s smile was as lethal as the gun strapped to his hip—more potent than any Taser. Unsettled by her instant response, Cassie headed for the door. It wasn’t like her to speak without thinking; she needed to get out of there before she embarrassed herself more than she already had.
“Let me get that.” He reached the door before her, balancing the large cookie box in one hand and pulling open the door with the other. After her own snide comment, his politeness poked at her conscience.
“Sorry about the doughnut remark.” There, her conscience was clear.
“I’ve heard worse.” His expression hardened for a minute. “Don’t worry about it.”
She wouldn’t; she had way too many other concerns to keep her occupied. Including the meeting she was going to be late to, if she didn’t hurry. She nodded politely, then made a beeline for her hatchback. Setting the coffee in a cup holder, she cranked the engine and popped in a CD of popular love songs. She had less than ten minutes to put aside all the worries tumbling through her mind and get herself in a Valentine’s Day kind of mood.
Alex watched the silver hatchback drive away, noting she kept the small vehicle well under the speed limit. Few people were gutsy enough to speed in front of a sheriff’s deputy—but then again, the average person didn’t spout off jokes about cops to his face, either. There had been resentment in those blue eyes. She’d disliked him—or at the least the uniform—on sight. He was used to gang members and drug dealers treating him that way, but a cute veterinarian? His gut said there was a story there, but he didn’t need to make enemies in his new hometown. He had plenty of those back in Miami.
A loud bark snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I’m coming, boy.”
At this point, he and his canine partner, Rex, were in the honeymoon period of their relationship, and the dog still got excited whenever he saw Alex return. Unlocking the car, he couldn’t help but smile at the goofy expression on the German Shepherd’s face. As a trained K-9, Rex was a criminal’s worst nightmare, but to Alex he was the best part of his new job.
He’d never expected to live in a small-time town like Paradise, had never wanted to leave Miami. But when he testified against his partner, the department had turned against him. It didn’t matter that Rick was guilty. Alex was the one they turned on.
He’d known that refusing to lie during his deposition meant saying goodbye to any chance of promotion. He could live with that. But when his name and address were leaked to a local gang he’d investigated, things changed.
Putting his own life at risk, that was just part of the job. Messing with his family, that was a different story. When his mom had come home one day to find threats spray-painted on her walls and her house trashed, he’d known they couldn’t stay.
He could still see her standing in her ruined kitchen, white with fear. She’d aged ten years that humid night.
Guilt clawed at him. What kind of son was he to lead danger straight to her doorstep? He’d resigned the next day and spent his two-week notice hunting down the scum responsible.
Then he’d packed up and looked for a job, any job, where he could start fresh without a target on his back. When a position in the Palmetto County Sheriff’s office became open, he’d jumped on it. Working with a K-9 unit was a dream come true; he’d often volunteered time with the unit back home. That experience, plus a stellar record, had landed him the position.
Having the dog around eased the loneliness of being in a new city and made the long night shifts required of newbies seem a little shorter.
Thankfully, his mom had been willing to move, too. She’d lived in Miami ever since she and his father emigrated from Puerto Rico. He’d worried she would fight against leaving, but she’d agreed almost immediately. Her lack of argument told him she was more rattled than she’d admitted.
And of course there was Jessica, his younger sister, to think about, too. She was away at college, but still lived at home on school holidays. His mom wouldn’t want her in the line of fire, even if she wasn’t afraid for herself.
Now Paradise was their home and all that was behind