The inspector stared straight back, her intelligent gaze scrutinizing him. Sasha shifted from one foot to the other. Confrontation was never a good thing for her, regardless of the “don’t mess with me” reputation she liked to project. Her persona had been forced upon her and maybe even branded her—but she also accepted, acknowledged and embraced it as if it were a powerful and protective coat of armor. Nothing and no one made her inferior to anyone or anything else.
Pulling back her shoulders, she shook off the vivid memories that never went away and stepped forward. She cupped her hand around John’s elbow. “We just came in for morning coffee, Inspector. Maybe you’d like to join us?”
Inspector Garrett continued to look at John. “Your father was a known figure around here, Mr. Jordon. Known for the wrong reasons. I hope you’re not going to give me any concerns while you’re here.”
“Am I being tarred with the same brush already? Just because Kyle and I share a name?”
The hairs on Sasha’s neck quivered. The cool tone of his voice and stiff set of his shoulders screamed of Kyle, yet John’s smooth, upper-class accent and undeterred self-confidence showed someone else entirely. Kyle was easily provoked, his temper a tangible and undeniable aspect of his feared potential for violence. Whereas John’s relaxed, immovable stance showed an equitable man, open to reason and discussion. It drew Sasha to him with a force she neither liked nor wanted.
The inspector tilted her chin. “I’m not the kind of cop who jumps to conclusions, Mr. Jordon. That doesn’t mean the rest of the town won’t.”
He glanced over her head toward the spectators, then at Marian and finally at Sasha. She met his gaze and silently pleaded with him to back down. She didn’t want him to fight the inspector but instead, sit with her and prove himself completely unlike Kyle. He briefly closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders. Sasha’s heart picked up speed as she waited.
He faced the inspector and raised his hands in surrender. “Why don’t you join us? Ask me anything you’d like to know. I’ve nothing to hide.”
Marian sniffed. “Hmm.”
Inspector Garrett shook her head. “I’ve no wish to harangue you, Mr. Jordon. Enjoy your coffee. Now I know you’re in town, I hope I’ve no reason to be anything other than civil should we bump into each other.” She turned to Marian and raised an eyebrow. “I hope the same goes for everyone else, too.”
Marian opened her mouth, her cheeks flame-red with indignation. “But—”
“Because the people of Templeton Cove are good people.” The inspector stared at Marian. “We don’t judge without reason.”
Sasha released her held breath. “Thank you, Inspector. I’ll be working with John at the fair. Feel free to drop by anytime.”
Inspector Garrett drew her gaze slowly over John’s face once more. “Thank you, Sasha. I might just do that. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jordon.” She offered her hand.
John shook it with a curt nod. “You, too.”
When Inspector Garrett gripped Marian’s elbow and steered her toward the counter, Sasha mirrored the action by steering John to their table. She only released him once he sat. She slid into the chair opposite him. “Well, there you go.”
He stared at her, his blue eyes dark with irritation. “What?”
“That’s the reaction you’re going to get around Templeton. Surely you didn’t expect any different when you planned this little tour this morning?”
“How often did my father show his face here? Around town?”
His tone was cold, his eyes somber. The question hadn’t been the first she’d expected. Didn’t he want to know where Marian got off treating him like a second-class citizen? Didn’t he want to know about Inspector Garrett? She lifted her shoulders. “Not much. He was either at Funland or off in his car somewhere.”
“What about his business associates?”
Sasha felt a sudden disquiet and glanced toward the inspector, who stood at the counter waiting for her coffee. Marian shot Sasha another glare and she snapped her gaze to John’s. “I don’t know.”
“You must know something.”
“I don’t.”
Silence descended and the tension escalated. After a long moment and no sign of their coffees, Sasha pushed to her feet. “Let’s go. I don’t feel comfortable talking about Kyle here.”
She made for the door, heedless of the stares of Inspector Garrett, Marian and the other pairs of eyes burning holes in her back. She shouldered past the queue of people filing into the bakery, her emotions torn. Why did she have to care about people so damn much? Why did everything come down to wanting people to be happy and enjoying themselves? When would she reach the jaded age of adulthood when she wouldn’t give a crap about anyone but herself?
She shouldn’t have backed up John—he was big enough to handle himself and from what she’d witnessed so far, nothing shook his cool exterior. She’d never know if he fought daily demons as she did, and for that she was grateful. She liked him, and because of that she prayed that once she had gotten the fair from him, he’d disappear as quickly as he had come. He tugged on something she’d thought stolen from her years ago. He tugged on her need for a man to care about her.
Swallowing hard, Sasha drew in a strengthening breath, drawing her protective cloak around her. The warm July sunshine hit her face as she stepped from beneath the shade of the bakery awning and leaned on the hood of John’s Mercedes. Maybe the sight of her butt on his fancy, expensive car might break his cool. He emerged from the bakery and approached her. He didn’t so much as blink to see her leaning on the hood of his car and instead stepped off the curb. He stood directly in front of her and the parked car behind him.
“Why did you leave like that? It would’ve been beneficial for us to face them out in there. Show it’s us running the fair now, not Kyle.”
She stiffened. “Us, John? Is that what you really think?”
“Don’t you?”
His gaze bored into hers. Sasha’s heart beat wildly, and her hands turned clammy. In all the time Kyle had run her and her granddad’s lives, not once had he indicated they were on the same team, in even the smallest of ways. Funland was Kyle’s, from the dirt on the ground to every lightbulb on every ride. Her heart twisted and she looked away. “Don’t say things like that. You and I both know you couldn’t possibly believe it.”
“Why not? Hey...” He touched his finger to her chin, gently turning her face. “Why not?”
Heat assaulted her cheeks as a bolt of God knew what shot through her body on such intimate and gentle contact. What the hell was he doing? Why was he playing her like this? She pushed away from the hood and marched to the passenger side. More important, why the hell was she letting him? She fisted her hands on her hips. “Open the car. I want to get out of here.”
She glanced past him toward the bakery window. She could practically feel the heat coming through the glass as Marian self-combusted inside.
He stared at her for a moment longer before pulling his keys from his pocket. The locks shunted open, and Sasha yanked the door and got inside. She pulled on her seat belt, her hands shaking. He slid in beside her, and the scent of musk and man rose between them, only to be torn away by the gathering breeze.
He turned the ignition. “We need to talk. Properly.”
“We will.” She stared ahead. “Right now I want to work. Funland needs me, John. The sooner you get that, the better.”
* * *
THE