They'd slept together almost every night, and Eliza clung to that. There was no room for anyone else in her bed or her life.

2

“Damn.” Dewey Mitchell wiped the sweat from his forehead and unceremoniously dumped the kid into the back of his patrol car. Running down a shoplifter at nine a.m. on Tuesday ruined his morning routine of coffee and reading the local paper at Crossroads Coffee Shop.

“Dude! You got these cuffs too tight.”

“Oh, here, let me help—” Dewey slammed the door closed. “Dumb kid.” A crowd had gathered in the high school parking lot where Dewey had started his foot race. The small town of Statem didn't have much in the way of crime. Speeding tickets and petty thefts made up most of their statistics.

He began to walk around his patrol car when another vehicle pulled into the parking lot. Eliza. She stepped out of her dad’s ancient car, wearing jeans and a pink tank top. Statem's newest, flip-flop wearing reporter, armed with a camera, and, shit—

He set his hands on his hips. “You can't bring Carrie with you to do your job.” Dewey waved at Carrie, who grinned from the back seat and waved in return. The kid had taken to him from the get-go. He loved it. She was sweet and funny. Just like her mama when she didn’t aim her pissed off look his way. All he’d done is try to give her space since she’d moved home, but it hadn’t worked.

Eliza spared her daughter a quick glance. “I don't have a choice today. School's out for the summer, and Ms. Iris is meeting with Becky to go over wedding cake designs.” She blew out a stiff breath. “Turns out, Juliana has nominated me to do Daddy’s wedding decorations.”

None of that mattered. “Then find another babysitter.”

She crossed her arms. “If you'd let me ask my questions for the paper, then we can both get on with our day, and you won’t be forced to endure my company.”

It was for her own good, the distance he put between them. Although, just like last week at Rhonda's, he couldn't stay away. He'd worried about her each day she lived in Alabama, hating the fact that he hadn't protected her from Zach, the D-bag ex. Dewey had tried to bring her home, promised her everything he could give her, and in the end, Eliza had chosen Zach anyway. Because Dewey wasn’t enough for her.

Carrie's head popped out of the window. “Hi, Dewey.”

“Hi, Princess.” He motioned her back inside. “Sit tight. Your mom will be done in a second.” He aimed his stern look at Eliza. But, unlike criminals, she didn't seem to care if she made him mad.

“What happened?” She stuck her tape recorder in his face.

He rolled his eyes and began to lay out what he could tell her that wouldn't hurt their case against the kid. Not that he'd get more than a few hours in jail and a fine for stealing a cell phone. Maybe some community service. But Dewey didn't have any intention of making it a comfortable stay.

Eliza took a few steps away and held up the camera she always carried with her. Dewey stepped beside her. “I don't want to be in your picture.” Her light perfume hit him. He crossed his arms, his primary defense against reaching for her. Even with her tough exterior, never needing anyone for anything, he knew what ran beneath the surface. A woman who was as sweet as the strawberry scent clinging to her.

She took a series of shots. “Good. You would mess it up anyway with that scowl.”

“I'm working.”

She paused and glanced his direction, the emerald green of her eyes distracting. “Oh, it's your working scowl. I got it confused with your casual scowl. Then again,” she paused and pursed her lips together. “I think it's yourElizascowl.”

What did she expect? He'd laid his entire heart out for her, and she chose to stay with Zach, who'd cheated on her, left his fingerprints on her body, and disappeared for weeks at a time. That didn't leave Dewey in the best mood. Years couldn’t erase the hurt.

He pointed at the kid in custody, who currently appeared to be asleep with his head laid back against the seat. “I'm not out here getting in exercise for my own enjoyment.”

She propped her hand on her hip, opened her mouth to say something, but her phone rang. She glanced down. “Damn.” She covered her mouth and looked back to the car, but Carrie was inside and out of hearing range.

Dewey smiled. He wanted to be irritated with her and not acknowledge how much he still wanted her for his own. But she was Eliza and would always be the one that got away.

His smile dropped when he saw a quick flash of fear her those pretty eyes. “What is it?”

She canceled the call. “Nothing. It's nothing. I need to run.” She turned to walk away, but Dewey reached out and stopped her with a gentle touch on her shoulder. Being gentle with a female wasn’t new, but there was something breakable about Eliza.

“Eliza,” he began, trying to keep the emotion out of saying her name. “What's wrong?”

Her gaze held a few moments before she stepped away. “Nothing you can help with. Really. I can handle it. I need to go.” She climbed in the car, instructed Carrie to buckle her seatbelt, and then started the engine. She looked down at her phone again, grimacing before pressing a button and tossing the phone into her purse.

And Dewey stood there helpless. He didn't have any right to pry into her business. She'd made her thoughts on the subject perfectly clear when he’d offered for her to come back to Statem, that he'd take care of her, marry her, and they'd figure out the situation with her dad together. Half-blind with love for her.

She'd accepted his offer before he'd left Alabama. But she texted a few days later, explaining that she'd never leave her husband. That she was in love.

Bullshit.