How To Land Her Lawman. Teresa Southwick

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      “Okay, then,” she said to herself, “Operation Poke the Bear is officially under way.”

      And officially time to get in touch with her inner flirt. Hopefully she still had some of that mojo although that would presuppose she ever had any in the first place. Anything too obvious would be, well...too obvious. It would be a dead giveaway if she walked up to him and said, “Hey, Mr. Sexy Pants, come on up and see me sometime.”

      When she started to hyperventilate it was a signal that she needed to get a grip. Less than twenty-four hours ago Kim had floated this idea. A slow start didn’t mean she’d lose the race and as long as she didn’t do anything out of character, no warning flags would be raised.

      “Okay. Here goes.” She put a lid on the dish, then slid the whole thing into a casserole carrier and food warmer.

      April grabbed the dish and went out her kitchen door, stepping onto the patio. She looked around at her neatly trimmed grass and the flowers in cheerful bloom. A sidewalk led to the alley and she smiled, remembering that her mother put it in because there was already a worn path in the grass from April going to Will’s house. Or him coming here.

      That seemed like a lifetime ago, but still a stab of sadness went through her. She still missed her mom and probably always would. Seeing Will again had stirred up a lot of memories, some good but a whole lot of them not.

      Sighing, she walked across the alley, up the three steps to the Fletchers’ back door and knocked loudly.

      Moments later it opened and Will stood there. “April. Hi.”

      “Hey. I made a casserole for your dad. And everyone.” Oh, God, her mind was going blank. “I’ve gotten in the habit of doing this since he got out of the hospital. It was a helpless feeling not being able to do anything for him, so I made food and brought it over. This is heart-healthy. Low fat. Whole-grain noodles.” She was babbling.

      When the horrifying thought sank in, she pressed her lips closed and ground her back teeth together. And oh, right, she was supposed to be flirting. So she batted her eyelashes.

      “This is very nice of you.” Will took the container she held out and met her gaze. Frowning, he asked, “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

      “Oh. No. I mean—” She blinked furiously. “I think there was something in one, but it’s fine now.”

      “Good.”

      Doggone it! This flirting thing wasn’t easy. It just felt awkward and dishonest. She should cut her losses and run for cover. “Okay, then. I’ll see you around.”

      “Come on in.” Will moved the door open a little wider with his shoulder. “Unless you’ve got plans.”

      “No.” Jean Luc was busy tonight, so she was free to flirt.

      She walked into the house that was as familiar to her as her own. The door opened into the family room with a leather corner group and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. On the other side of a granite-covered bar was the kitchen with its large square island, stainless-steel appliances and plentiful oak cupboards.

      She looked around. “It’s awfully quiet. Where is everyone?”

      “Kim is out with Luke.” He set the casserole on the island and looked at her. The expression on his face said his sister and her fiancé weren’t out so much as staying in and having sex.

      April’s already pounding pulse kicked up a notch. “What about your dad and Tim?”

      “They went to a movie.”

      “Okay.” The house was empty. In theory that worked for her plan except that she wasn’t very good at flirting. “Well, then, now you have dinner. Enjoy.”

      He slid her a questioning look. “Have you eaten yet?”

      “No.”

      “What are you doing for dinner?” he asked.

      “Oh, I have a frozen thing in the freezer.” She cocked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the general direction of her house, freezer and the frozen thing.

      Will leaned back against the countertop and folded his arms over his chest. The tailored long-sleeved khaki-colored sheriff’s uniform shirt fit his upper body like a second skin. Matching pants showcased his flat stomach and muscular legs to male perfection. She was the one with a seduction plan, but if this was being in control, she’d be better off flying by the seat of her pants.

      “So,” he said, “you put in time and effort on this food and you’re going to eat something that’s been in a state of suspended animation for God knows how long?”

      “Yeah, pretty much. I do it all the time.” She could have bitten her tongue clean off for saying that. How pathetic did it sound that she often ate by herself? Next he’d be asking how many cats she owned.

      “Not tonight you won’t,” Will insisted. “You’re going to stay and have some of the meal you made.”

      Per the plan she had to strike the right balance between reluctance and giving in. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager. The problem was that having dinner with him was tempting and it was awfully darn difficult to tamp down her enthusiasm. Because, gosh darn it, she did eat alone most of the time and the prospect of companionship at a meal was awfully appealing. And she told herself any companion would do. Herself almost bought into that thought.

      “I don’t know—”

      “Did you put poison in the casserole?”

      “Of course not. Wow, you can take the detective out of Chicago, but you can’t take the suspicion out of the detective.”

      “And you didn’t put a gallon of hot sauce in there to sabotage it and get even with me?”

      “It was for your dad. I didn’t even know you’d be here. The goal is to make Hank stronger and not give him another heart attack.”

      “So stay. It smells pretty good. Have dinner here.” His blue eyes darkened with challenge while the beginning of a grin curved up the corners of his mouth.

      “If that law-enforcement thing hadn’t worked out, you’d have made a pretty persuasive lawyer.” She happened to be looking at him and saw the shadows cross his face. They were there for a moment, then disappeared. “I’d like that.”

      “How about a glass of wine?”

      “Sounds good.” It actually sounded fabulous, but again, balance. Not too eager.

      He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay, then found two wineglasses in the cupboard. After removing the cork, he poured and handed her a glass.

      “Can I help with something?” she asked. “There should be a touch of a green. I could throw some salad together. Microwave some broccoli.”

      “Yeah, broccoli would be easiest. But I can do that. You’ve already done more than your fair share.”

      “Can I at least set the table?”

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