Page 17 of Smoky Mountain K-9

“I do it all the time. It’s good with smoked sausage and peppers too.”

That did sound good. She’d have to remember that. And find out how long and at what temp to cook them. “So, what do you want me to do?” She set her purse on the floor out of the way and glanced around the kitchen, taking in the natural-wood cabinets, white walls, and gray-flecked granite counters. He had several items piled on the center island.

“Just sit and talk to me. I’m making slaw to top the tacos. And the rice is about done.”

“Okay.” She perched on a stool at the end of the island to watch him work. It was nice to get a home-cooked meal she didn’t have to make. That only ever happened when she went home to Oklahoma. Even when she was married, it didn’t happen often. Blake didn’t really like to cook.

Easy conversation flowed between them while Carter finished dinner and they ate. Topics ranged from her work at the equestrian center to some of the crazier calls Carter and Maverick had attended. Like their first evening together, Mara felt comfortable in his presence. Even more so than before.

“I’m full. That was wonderful.” Mara smiled as she stood to take her plate to the dishwasher.

“I’m glad you liked it. Next time, I’ll have to make that shrimp and sausage stuff.”

She waved a finger at him as she straightened from depositing her dish in the rack. “Next time, it’s my turn.”

He nodded once, bringing his plate over. Bending, he put it in the rack, then closed the door and stepped closer. “Deal.”

Mara swallowed, her throat suddenly dry at his nearness. She watched as his silvery eyes turned a stormy color. He dipped his head.

A car alarm blared outside. Maverick woofed from his spot on the floor. Carter straightened and turned toward the sound, a frown wiping out the desire on his face.

Letting out a soft huff of disappointment that she hadn’t gotten to taste his sculpted lips, she blinked. The closeness of the sound registered. “That sounds like it’s right outside.”

“Yeah.” Turning away, he walked out of the kitchen, calling Maverick. The dog got up and trotted after his handler, ears up, posture alert.

Mara trailed behind them, wanting to know what was going on, but not wanting to get in the way. They reached the front window, and Mara gasped as she saw her car lights flashing.

Carter looked at her, his expression all cop. “Where are your keys?”

“In my purse.” She motioned back the way they’d come.

“Go get them.”

She scurried to the kitchen and retrieved her purse, digging through it as she returned to the living room. The keys jingled as she pulled them out.

Carter took them and headed for the front door. “It’s probably nothing, but stay inside.”

Mara nodded, her heartbeat a little quicker than usual. She had no problem staying in here and letting him take care of things.

“Maverick,fuss.”

If possible, the dog’s posture turned even more alert as he followed Carter out the door. He looked like a coiled spring, ready to burst free.

Chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, Mara stood in the doorway and watched as the two of them approached her vehicle. Carter silenced the alarm, then walked around the car. He jogged to the end of the drive, looking both ways on the road, then turned around and came back to the house. She stepped back to let him and Maverick inside.

“Well?” She closed the door behind them.

“Someone broke the rear window out of your car.” He took his phone from his pocket.

“What?” Her eyebrows slammed down, and she glanced toward the door.

“I’m calling it in.”

Mara covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head. Why would someone break her window?

Eight

Whistling, Carter hopped out of his cruiser, glad his shift was finally over. He had plans tonight with Mara. She didn’t know that, but she would soon enough. He’d been planning this from virtually the moment he said goodnight to her Saturday evening. He wanted to make up for the way things ended. Even though none of it was his fault.