Wild in the Moment by Jennifer Greene

cream.”
    â€œLavender ice cream,” Teague echoed.
    â€œI know, I know. Sounds like pansy food. In fact, that’s what she says, that there’s lavender in it. I swear, though, it doesn’t taste like any sissy flower—”
    Someone tapped on the sheriff’s shoulder, and when he got embroiled in that conversation, Harry hiked over from the cash register. “What can I get you, Teague?”
    â€œI’ve barely got a minute, but I could sure use a fast coffee. And some…” He was going to ask for a piece of the lavender sponge cake, but he spotted the empty cake platter on the counter. “Just coffee,” he said.
    Seconds later his hands were snugged around a mug of hair-curling coffee, but Daisy still hadn’t shown back up. He could hear her voice in the distance—he assumed she was talking to Jason, Harry’s brother and short-order cook—but she didn’t come back.
    He gulped the coffee, burned his throat, and gulped some more. His mind kept spilling out questions. All the evidence pointed to her working here, but that just seemed impossible. Harry didn’t hire extras—the café didn’t have enough business to justify more staff, especially in the slow month of January. And Teaguecouldn’t fathom why she’d seek any kind of job, much less a low-paying one, when the clothes she wore cost more than most of the cars parked outside. Besides which, he couldn’t figure out what she was still doing here at all, when she’d made such a point of telling him how much she hated small towns.
    One other question hammered at his mind. The same tiny question that had been jamming his brain in the wee hours of every damn morning since he met her. If she’d hung around White Hills these past couple of weeks, then why hadn’t she given him a call? Why had she been avoiding him?
    Harry twisted his considerable beer belly to engage him in more friendly conversation, but by then Teague had stood up, wrestled some change from his pocket and swung away from the counter. Obviously, he couldn’t chase her down in front of all these people. He grabbed his jacket and aimed for the door, thinking that now he knew she was here, he’d choose a free time, a quiet place, to corner her. Yet somewhere between the last table and the front door, his boots pivoted around. Instead of leaving, he found himself charging straight down the aisle, past the cash register, past the counter, past the saloon-style double doors that led to the kitchen area. Harry didn’t stop him. The sheriff didn’t stop him. Hell, nobody dared try to stop him.
    He pushed the swinging doors so hard that one banged against the inside wall. “Daisy!” he yelled out.
    Almost instantly, two heads showed up from around the corner of the freezer room. The small head with the exotic eyes and lush, soft mouth was definitely hers. The big one looked like a twin rendition of Harry—eyebrows bushier than weeds, a tummy that looked like a hot-air balloon, three sprouts of hair straight on top.Harry’s brother disappeared back into the fog of the freezer room.
    Daisy stepped out.
    Teague wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Something like, “Damn it, woman, I’m not in the habit of having the best sex I ever had in my life and then having my lover disappear as if it never happened.” Or “Daisy, why didn’t you let me know you were still in town?” Or “Daisy, for God’s sake, what are you doing in this café?”
    But somehow he sensed vulnerability in those soft, dark eyes. He knew he was crazy. He’d been crazy ever since he made love to her. Daisy was sophisticated and capable of handling herself in any situation—God knew he’d seen her step up in the blizzard, even if she would hate the idea of being labeled resourceful and practical. The point, though, was that imagining vulnerability in her eyes was