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it, what choice did he have? He had to go back to work and he couldn’t exactly have her hang out at the station all day. “I eat at Howler’s most of the time.”
    “I think I’ll avoid that place if it’s all right with you.”
    “My sister owns it.”
    She set her soda on the counter. “Awesome.”
    He frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”
    “Nothing, I just didn’t realize how many bad first impressions I’d made already.”
    “Bridget didn’t say anything to me about what happened.”
    “Bridget? As in the woman behind the bar?”
    He nodded.
    “I was right about her being a shifter.” Ivy sighed. “Any other Merrows in town I should know about?”
    “My brother, Titus. He’s the fire chief.”
    “The one my father saved?”
    “Mm-hmm.” He leaned on the counter. “And now that Clemens has called in that debt, neither of us has much say in the matter.”
    “Does that mean you’re in?”
    “Aren’t you?”
    She laughed bitterly. “Refuse an order from Clemens Kincaid? I’m a lot smarter than I look.”
    “You look plenty smart to me.” She did. There was a bright, determined spark in her gaze. Like a woman with a plan. It was both encouraging and unsettling. “What do you do?”
    “What’s my trade, you mean?”
    He nodded.
    “I do hair. I guess I should look for a salon in town, see if I can rent a chair. Or maybe get my foot in as a receptionist.”
    “Are you planning on staying here?”
    She gave him an odd look. “You must have a different definition of married than I do.”
    “I just thought…you didn’t bring much with you.” So much for his deductive powers.
    She shrugged. “I figured we’d get to know each other, make sure we were compatible enough to make it work, then I’d get the rest of my stuff.”
    At the word stuff, she glanced at the tattoo on the inside of her left wrist and her mouth bent in an odd way. His gut told him that tattoo was significant. He wondered what it meant to her. When she was ready, he was sure she’d tell him. “If you want to get groceries, that would be good. I’ll drop you off at the store, then head into the office. You can call me when you’re ready to go and I’ll come get you and bring you back.”
    “Okay. Happy to do it.”
    “I’ll be right back.” He jogged upstairs to the small safe installed in the wall of his walk-in closet. He punched in the code, took out three hundred dollars, locked it back up and returned to the kitchen.
    He put the money on the counter. “That should cover it.”
    She nodded at the bills. “Yeah, definitely. Anything you don’t like?”
    “No. I’ll eat whatever.”
    The radio attached to his shoulder squawked. “Hank?”
    He pinched it to respond. “Birdie, you’re supposed to call me Sheriff.”
    “Why? You forget what your job is?”
    Ivy laughed, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.
    He sighed and spoke into the radio. “What do you need?”
    The doorbell rang. Ivy held up her hands and whispered, “I’ll get it.”
    He nodded and listened as Birdie rambled on about a tourist with a parking ticket complaint, turning to watch Ivy.
    Maybe he’d find a way to let Birdie go and make Ivy the new receptionist. He’d have to see if there was a rule about the sheriff’s receptionist having a record. Ivy sauntered toward the front door, her hips swaying gently. Even if there was a rule, maybe an exception could be made. Having her at the station would be a great way to keep an eye on her.
    Which, as it turned out, was quite a pleasurable activity.

Ivy opened the door and stared into the face of the woman who’d brought her a beer and a burger last night. The bartender from Howler’s. Hank’s sister. She had a large brown sack in one hand. The grease-stained bag gave off delicious aromas and Ivy realized in that instant Hank had ordered the food from Howler’s.
    Oh boy. This was gonna be fun. “Hi there.”
    Bridget stared back. “You look famil—aren’t you the woman