Kiss Me, Sheriff!

It only took one kiss...

Willa Holmes has one rule: don’t fall in love! Love brings ties and ties bring pain, and she’s had enough of that. That’s why the pastry chef fled to Thunder Ridge in the first place—to live privately and bake anonymously. But then she makes a big mistake: she kisses the local sheriff. The tall, dark, incredibly sexy sheriff...

No high-speed chase. That’s Derek Neel’s dating rule...till Willa. But the cowboy sheriff’s hot pursuit hits a roadblock when he takes in an at-risk boy and Willa bucks like a frightened filly. Why is she so scared of the very things he wants most—love, family, forever? Derek isn’t sure, but he knows this: not even Willa can escape the loving arms of the law!

WILLA’S FAMOUS S’MORES

A long time ago back in LA, I made this with my— well, let’s just say with some people I shared my life with. They’re gone now, but I’ve always held tight to the special memories of making this recipe with them. I’m in Thunder Ridge now, a town full of caring people... and a sheriff who keeps challenging my heart. I’m not sure I’m ready to love again, but I am ready to share these homemade treats with you.

PS: I’m letting you in on my closely guarded secret!

Ingredients:

4 graham crackers

2 marshmallows

2 chocolate squares

2 metal skewers

metal grill basket

1. Lightly warm the graham crackers and chocolate by placing them in a metal grill basket high over the flame. The secret is making the crackers soft. Like love, it’s all about not getting broken!

2. Skewer the marshmallow and hold it far enough away that the flame is just teasing it. Be careful not to burn it.

3. Stack a graham cracker, chocolate square and marshmallow, and top with another cracker.

This recipe makes two, so share them with someone you love. Tell them Willa sent you.

—Willa

* * *

The Men of Thunder Ridge:

Once you meet the men of this Oregon town, you may never want to leave!

Kiss Me, Sheriff!

Wendy Warren

www.millsandboon.co.uk

WENDY WARREN loves to write about ordinary people who find extraordinary love. Laughter, family and close-knit communities figure prominently, too. Her books have won two Romance Writers of America RITA® Awards and have been nominated for numerous others. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with human and nonhuman critters who don’t read nearly as much as she’d like, but they sure do make her laugh and feel loved.

This book is dedicated to LaCorius Jenkins, who is smart and kind, courageous and true, and a bunch of other wonderful things. You inspire me.

“In a gentle way, you can shake the world.”

—Mahatma Gandhi

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Recipe

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

For the folks who cared to rise early enough, 6:30 a.m. was as fine a time as any on Warm Springs Road in Thunder Ridge, Oregon. The twinkle lights that glowed steadily through the night were still on. The Valentine’s Day Decorating Committee met companionably at The Pickle Jar Deli for an early breakfast and a lively debate about whether to hang cupids or giant red hearts from the corner street lamps. And, next door to the deli, Willa Holmes opened the doors to Something Sweet, the bakery she’d been managing for the past two months. Her morning regulars typically arrived shortly after she flipped the “Done for the Day” sign to the side that announced, “Yep, Open.”

Now, at precisely 6:32 a.m., Willa was at work behind the counter.

“Can I tempt you with a fresh Danish this morning, Mrs. Wittenberg?” She smiled at the tiny woman whose white curls bobbed just above the top of the glass pastry case. “They’re still warm from the oven.”

Baking since 3:00 a.m., Willa appreciated the early start time of her new job. The wee hours of the morning used to be for sleep or, back when she was first married, for lovemaking, but now she found late night and early morning to be the most difficult parts of her day. There was too much quiet time to think. And to remember.

Having breads to proof, cookies to shape and food costs to calculate provided relief from the thoughts that kept her awake at night. Her only coworker in the morning was Norman Bluehorse, who was either fortyish or sixtyish—it was seriously hard to tell—and who worked with earbuds in place and spoke only when he needed to ask or to answer a direct question. A few years ago that might not have suited Willa, but these days she appreciated Norman’s unspoken you-mind-your-business-and-I’ll-mind-mine policy.

Short on sleep due to the early morning and a restless night, she tried not to yawn. Mrs. Wittenberg peered closely at her.

“Sweetheart,” the older woman said, “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is your red hair natural? I’m thinking about having a makeover. I used to have beautiful long hair, too. It fell out during The Change. Did you bake anything new this morning?”