Page 11 of The Fragile Truth

She laughed. “I guess fate is on our side.” She gave him a tentative look. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you on the hook. You’re under no obligation to keep seeing me.”

All night long, Ian had felt like he was seeing the world through a kaleidoscope with random bits of information coming at him in snatches. He got the satisfying sensation of the shapes shifted into their proper places, giving him a clear perspective as he looked Sadie in the eye. “What if I want to see you again? You know,” he drawled, “bring you those roses and chocolates on our first official date.” He soldiered ahead. “How would you like to go out next Friday night? The Oliver Hotel has a great restaurant. We could grab some dinner and go for a walk on the beach afterward.”

Surprise flitted over her features as she blinked. “I—I guess that would be good,” she stammered.

She was okay with the topic of dating when it was vague. But now that he was officially asking her out, she was backtracking. Talk about a blow to the ego. Even though Sadie claimed to have sat down beside him in the bar to wait for her date, his instinct said she was interested in him. But maybe he was wrong. Or maybe that she now knew that he’d been involved with Lina, she wanted nothing to do with him. A curious disappointment pricked at him. He forced his voice to go casual. “We don’t have to go out … if you don’t want to.” And here he thought that Sadie was the vulnerable one.

“I think I can invest the time,” she teased.

He wagged a finger. “Ah, I see how you are. You’re holding my feet to the fire.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered with a trace of pride. She made a face. “You know, I probably shouldn’t be making any concrete plans until I find out my work schedule. I may have to work on Friday.”

“Just let me know.” Ian made a mental note to call Mike and ask him to give Sadie Friday night off. It was interesting how quickly Ian was becoming fascinated with Sadie. He was eager to learn everything about her. “Are you from Wilmington?”

“Jackson, Mississippi.”

“How long have you been in Wilmington?”

“A couple of weeks. I’m staying with a girlfriend.”

He tried to connect the dots. “What made you take a job in Summerhaven?”

“It was Honeysuckle Island that first intrigued me. I saw a write-up about it in an online magazine.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “The article talked about the extreme wealth on the island. My dream is to become a personal chef.”

Ah, that made sense. If she were researching the island, she was bound to find articles about Lina. “So you decided to take a job at a restaurant until you could work your way into the clientele on the island.”

“Exactly.”

“How good are you at cooking?”

An impish grin stole over her lips. “Should I have asked you how good you are at being a sheriff?”

A cackle rose in his throat. “If you’re asking, I’d say I’m the best.” The corners of his lips twitched. “But it’s fair to say that you might be getting a biased opinion.”

She laughed. “I like a man with confidence,” she said decisively.

Ian instinctively pushed out his chest. He felt like a failure in so many ways, but he had to put on a good front. People expected the sheriff to have all the answers. He was the guy who was supposed to solve all the problems and make the world safe. And yet, he’d been bamboozled by a master manipulator. He’d lost a man on his watch. If only he could find out what happened to Brent, then maybe he could redeem himself and make up for all the lost time he spent chasing after the wrong man.

Mischief sparkled in Sadie’s eyes. “Okay, Sheriff. How about this? I’ll make you a deal.”

“Oh, yeah?” He was intrigued.

“As soon as I get settled into my new place, I’ll have you over for dinner. Then you can decide for yourself how good of a cook I am.”

“Deal,” he punched back, reveling in the sparks sizzling between them. It was one thing for a woman to be beautiful. There were plenty of beautiful women in Summerhaven who were interested in Ian. But Sadie had something more—spunk.

Their server, a peppy teenage girl with braces, approached the table. “How was the pizza?”

“We didn’t like it,” Ian replied with a straight face.

The girl’s face fell a notch. “I’m sorry.”

“But we ate it anyway,” Ian quickly added before the girl could get too upset.

Laughter gurgled in her throat. “You’re funny.”

Ian looked across the table at Sadie, who was shaking her head and grinning.