Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Abbie Carter stood in the kitchen of her grandfather’s house, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she stared out the window. The late morning sun bathed the rolling hills of the ranch in golden light, the kind of light that made everything feel like a dream. She’d been back in Jessup Peak for two weeks now, and while she still missed the energy of the city at times, the peaceful rhythm of life here was starting to feel like home.

Her grandfather’s voice broke her thoughts. “Abbie, you might want to come take a look at this.”

She walked to the front door where he was standing, squinting at a familiar pickup truck pulling into the drive. “That’s Sheriff McMasters’s truck,” he said, his brow furrowed. “But he’s supposed to be retired. Wonder what he’s doing out here?”

Before Abbie could respond, the truck came to a stop, and the driver’s side door opened. Out stepped a man who looked nothing like the retired sheriff she was expecting. Instead, there stood Beau Elliott, dressed in boots, jeans, a dinner plate-sized belt buckle, and a cowboy hat. Her heart skipped a beat. He looked every bit the part of a small-town sheriff, and boy, did he wear it well.

Her grandfather let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, shooting her a grin. “Guess there’s a new sheriff in town.”

Abbie swallowed hard as Beau walked up the porch steps, his confident stride making her stomach flip. He tipped his hat at her grandfather, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Morning, Mr. Carter,” he greeted warmly. “Mind if I borrow your granddaughter for a few minutes?”

Mr. Carter’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Sure thing, Sheriff,” he said, clapping Beau on the shoulder before heading toward the barn. “Take all the time you need.”

Abbie stood frozen as Beau turned his full attention to her, his blue eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “What are you doing here, Beau?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

“I came to talk to you,” he said simply, his tone serious as he removed his hat and held it in his hands. “Mind if we sit?”

She nodded, leading him into the living room. They sat on the worn sofa, the space between them feeling simultaneously too close and too far. Abbie folded her hands in her lap, bracing herself for whatever he was about to say.

Beau cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on her. “Abbie, I’ve been thinking a lot about us. And before I say anything else, there’s something you need to know.”

Her stomach tightened. “What is it?”

“I’m not a good match for you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “And I’ve got about a dozen reasons to prove it.”

Abbie raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at her lips despite herself. “Oh, this should be good. Let’s hear them.”

He held up a finger. “First, I snore. Loudly.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already know that.”

“Second,” he continued, “I hate tofu, kale, and pretty much anything else that might be considered ‘fancy city food.’”

Abbie bit back a laugh. “Noted.”

“Third, I’m terrible at keeping plants alive. I killed a cactus once. A cactus, Abbie.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head. “Go on.”

“Fourth, I’ve got a bad habit of leaving my socks everywhere. Fifth, I have no idea how to fold a fitted sheet, and I’m not even sorry about it. Sixth, I’m not great at taking hints—if you want me to do something, you’ve gotta say it straight out.”

Abbie crossed her arms, leaning back against the sofa. “That’s six. You’re halfway there.”

“Seventh,” he said, his tone turning more serious, “I’ve got a temper. I’m working on it, but it’s there. Eighth, I’m stubborn. Ninth, I’ve got more baggage than I’d like to admit. And tenth, I’m not always the easiest person to live with. I like things done my way, and I can be... particular.”

Her smile softened as she listened, recognizing the vulnerability behind his words.

“Eleventh,” he went on, “I don’t dance. And twelfth...” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’ve never done this before. Never felt this way about anyone. And I’m scared I’m going to mess it up.”

Abbie’s heart clenched as she watched him, her tough-as-nails detective suddenly looking unsure and vulnerable. She reached out, placing a hand on his knee. “Beau,” she said softly, “you’re not perfect. Neither am I. But do you want to know a secret?”

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice rough.

“There’s no one else in the world I’d rather hear snore,” she said with a smile.

Beau’s eyes softened, and he reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “You’re sure about that?”

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her like he never wanted to let go. And then his lips found hers, the kiss slow and deep and filled with everything they hadn’t said.

When they finally pulled apart, Beau rested his forehead against hers, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’re something else, Abbie Carter.”

“So are you, Sheriff Elliott,” she teased, her voice full of warmth.

Beau’s expression shifted, his grin fading into something more serious. He stood, taking her hands in his. “I need to talk to your grandfather.”

Abbie frowned, confused. “Why?”

He tipped his hat, a playful glint returning to his eyes. “Because that’s the way it’s done in Jessup Peak. If a guy wants to marry his girl, he’s gotta ask her grandpa’s permission.”

Her breath caught, her heart swelling as she watched him stride out the door and head toward the construction of the new barn. This was her life now, she realized—messy, unpredictable, and completely wonderful. And for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t wait to see what came next.