Chapter 8

He did have a potentially disastrous moment at the grocery store. She was in the fruits and vegetables section picking out some bananas, comparing sizes, and he was going to sneak up behind her when an older woman approached and asked her if she was “the woman who did porn.” Rob had frozen in his tracks, unsure of what he should do.

Making a split-second decision, he backtracked into the bakery and partially hid behind a stack of ciabatta rolls, watching it play out. Carrie politely answered “No,” put the larger bananas in her cart, and continued “that isn’t me anymore.”

The woman started to say something else, but Carrie just moved on, not rudely, but as a matter of course. Rob was proud of her and happy with her.

Well, at least until she ripped him a new one about his office decorations. She had started bringing him meals she’d cooked for him when he had to work a couple of nights a week handling dispatch. Technically, as sheriff, he didn’t have to do it, but he felt it was only fair to share the burden with the other employees.

It was the first time that she’d visited and she tore into the place, calling his office “ugly”. It was a sheriff’s office, he thought to himself, it doesn’t need to look like some swanky Park Place office. Nevertheless, he listened to her and talked and agreed.

She bitched about the linoleum, the desk, even the plaid curtains took a few shots across the bow. Still, he went along with her plans. She talked about fixing up the place herself. Inwardly, he shrugged. Outwardly he applauded her efforts. If it made her happy, he was all in.

So twice a week when he worked nights she’d stop by, bringing food and usually something to decorate; a rug, some plants, and, hells to the yes, some new curtains to replace those plaid curtains. He did have to admit the place looked nicer. He just hadn’t given it a thought before her.

Sunday dinner. He knew it was inevitable. He knew all about the tradition, having turned down invitation after invitation from the townsfolk. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of home-cooked meals.

It was because if he did it for one, he was going to have to do it for all or word would get out that the sheriff was playing favorites, and that would never do.

But with Carrie, well, he knew it’d be different. He knew of her parents and had semi-met them in town, but it wasn’t as if he’d had any true conversations. But he knew that he would this coming Sunday.

“Sunday dinner, huh?” he said as they were sitting on his sofa, kissing and touching, having finished watching a steamy R-rated movie.

“Yes, Sunday dinner. It’s a tradition, and I’d like you to meet my parents unless you don’t want to, which is fine, I don’t mind I just think that since we’ve been going out for a month that it might be a nice idea unless you think that it is--” and Carrie stopped when she saw the big grin on his face.

“What?” she asked.

His eyes got that twinkly look that she adored. “You had me at Sunday dinner.”

She giggled and then leaned in for some more passionate kissing and felt his hand against her breast. She purposely moved a little bit to the left and right, making it seem like it was to enhance the kiss itself, but secretly, she liked the feel of her nipple passing left and right against his thumb.

“Everything checked out, his credentials, the appointment, all of it. But, the Colonel, while insisting he was not intoxicated, could not explain his nudity.” Rob stopped and waited for it.

“What did you do?” asked Carrie’s dad. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, listening intently to the story. Rob liked him and enjoyed the conversation through dinner, but he saw this as an ideal way to strike a bond with the former military man.

Before the women had re-entered the room, Forrest had told Rob a quick story about how his commanding officer had once done an inspection with a pair of panties sticking out of the bottom of his trousers. They’d roared and it gave Rob the impetus to tell a story of his own.

“I only had an hour left at the post, and this was a high-ranking guy. What do you think I did? I handed him back his ID, raised the gate, and snapped my best salute when he drove past!”

He watched as Carrie’s dad lost it, laughing and almost doubling over, seeing Carrie bringing in some kind of good-looking dessert. Good smelling too, he thought.