Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MILLIE

I t was official—Emmett and I were destined to forever be adversaries.

The shop’s heavy wooden door had barely closed behind him when Greer asked, “What the fuck was that?”

I glanced up to find her and Rory staring at me as if I had two heads.

“I didn’t mean the two of you had plans together , Millie,” Rory murmured.

“That was an overreaction on my part,” I sighed. “My brain-to-mouth filter failed.”

I might have imagined it, but Emmett seemed dejected by my little outburst. Which was silly.

Why would he even care? We could barely stand to be in the same room together for more than a few minutes at a time—much less an entire evening.

“Plus, you two should be happy,” I scoffed. “Don’t most sisters forbid their friends from fawning all over their brothers?”

“Emmett is one of the best men I know,” Rory said. “He’s kind, loyal, and protective.”

“You just described a golden retriever, Rory,” Greer deadpanned then turned her attention to me. “But you could do a lot worse than Emmett, Millie.”

That was high praise coming from her, and it was clear these siblings loved each other wholeheartedly. Growing up an only child gave me no way of relating with them on this, though.

I really couldn’t afford to lose Rory and Greer as clients or friends over a squabble with their brother. Which meant I needed to be the bigger person and wave the white flag first.

I was pulling into Geyser Grill’s parking lot when my phone chimed. I grabbed it from my bag and opened my messages to find a photo of Rory dressed to kill in a cream turtleneck sweater and maroon silk skirt paired with suede booties. Her long, golden hair was curled and framed her face like a halo.

She looked stunning, and I hoped this guy realized just how lucky he was—which is exactly what I said in reply.

Climbing out of my vehicle, the wind whipped around me. It had gotten colder as the day progressed, and I hugged my coat close—hurrying for the door.

Acclimating to Montana winters had been a challenge. I wasn’t used to extreme weather of this magnitude. Obviously, I knew there would be more snow in comparison to the sporadic dusting we got in Tennessee given I was moving to a town located on the side of a mountain. But it still made my eyes bulge a little when I pulled the curtains back in the morning.

I was not conditioned for having to shovel my walkway and drive. If it dumped snow, I was basically stuck inside the farmhouse until I could muster the energy to create enough of a trail for my feet and tires.

Thankfully, I still lived close enough that the plow cleared my path to town.

The bell chimed as I pushed open the door, rushing into the warmth of the grill. I was met with a smile from Rita and the overwhelming smell of fried food.

“Hey, Millie!” she called out, tucking an order pad and pencil into the pocket of her apron .

“Order up!” Ronnie yelled from behind the stack of tickets lining the serving window.

“I bet that’s yours,” Rita shouted before turning and jogging to grab the to-go containers. She paused to read the scribbled note on top then stuffed them into a paper sack.

“Any special plans for the evening?” Rita grinned, pumping her graying eyebrows up and down behind her blue cat-eye glasses. “At first I thought I heard you wrong when you placed two orders over the phone, but then I remembered it was Valentine’s Day.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I had learned that the grill was Ranger Ridge’s gossip hub. Maybe it was because I wasn’t from here or too new to spot the negativity, but all of the gossip around here seemed to be mostly mundane.

“No plans,” I answered honestly. “Just dropping dinner off at the Sheriff’s Department for Emmett.”

Rita’s eyes widened a fraction, and I realized I needed to add some context before she took this information and ran wild with it.

“I don’t have any romantic plans for the evening,” I clarified. “I plan on dropping this off with his secretary and heading straight home.” Then I added, “It looks like we may be in for more snow,” trying my best to steer our conversation toward a safer topic.

Rita didn’t take the bait.

“You ordered his favorite, didn’t you?” she queried. “You forgot the huckleberry pie, though.”

Strangely enough, I had remembered Greer mentioning Emmett’s favorite meal months back. I figured food would be an acceptable peace offering after the incident earlier.

“Might as well take a slice of that too, then,” I sighed, intent on squashing the animosity between Emmett and me once and for all.

Though, it meant there was no saving myself from the gossip mill now.

Rita rang me up, and I added a nice tip—maybe she would consider it a bribe to keep this information to herself.

I waved to Ronnie and said goodbye to Rita before heading back to my car.

The smell of the prime rib sandwich was potent as I headed in the direction of the Ridge County Sheriff’s Department.

It was barely six in the evening when I walked up to the reception desk.

“Hi. How can I help you this evening?” the elderly secretary asked as I debated racing back out the door.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, ma’am,” I rambled in lieu of a greeting after spotting the two dozen pink roses sitting beside her computer. “Your flowers are beautiful.”

“Please, dear, call me Dorothy!” she exclaimed with a wide smile. “And thank you! My husband has always been such a sentimental man!”

The wistful look on her face had a smile tugging at my lips.

Nervously, I raised the sack sporting Geyser Grill’s logo.

“I brought Emmett some dinner,” I squeaked. “Would you mind making sure it finds its way to him?”

Dorothy didn’t appear surprised, and I wondered if Rita had already called to tell her I was coming.

“I’ll let him know you’re headed back with it,” Dorothy grinned as she picked up the phone and started dialing before I could stop her.

“That’s not necessary!” I exclaimed, shaking my head adamantly. “I was hoping you could just pass it along to him.”

She ignored me.

“Sheriff, I have…” she paused and looked my way.

“What’s your name, dear?” she asked.

“Millie Rushing,” I mumbled, reluctantly.

“…Millie Rushing here to see you,” she continued. “I’m sending her back.”

Dorothy hung up the phone and pressed something under her desk. I heard a lock click on the glass door separating us, and I tiptoed forward—holding the bag of food with care, as if it were a bomb triggered for detonation.

“Straight back and to the right,” she directed, making me jump. “You can’t miss it. ”

Gathering my courage, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

I found my way easily, despite passing deputies who stared unabashedly without offering assistance.

Raising my hand to wave, I fought the urge to flip them my middle finger.

I hated that Emmett and I were likely to have an audience for this, but there was no going back now. Bracing myself, I raised my fist. Before I could knock, the door flew open—creating enough wind to ruffle my hair.

My gaze landed on Emmett’s broad chest filling the doorway. I took in his equally wide shoulders, sculpted throat, and chiseled jawline concealed by the short beard he had grown over the last few months.

I didn’t let him get a word out before grinning and thrusting the Geyser Grill sack in his direction. “I brought you dinner.”

“Why?” he prodded, eyeing the bag.

I clamped my jaw shut, biting off the retort aching to burst from between my lips.

An appropriate response would have been thank you , but I had expected this. It was his default, after all.

And I came this far. So I gritted out an answer to his question instead.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” I offered. “I was rude, and for that, I’m sorry.”

He seemed skeptical, and while I didn’t necessarily blame him—this dance was starting to hurt my feet from the amount of times we stepped on each other's toes.

“Can we just start over?” I sighed as my shoulders slumped.

This awkwardness was tiresome. “I’m not going anywhere,” I continued—his gaze shifting from me to the bag in my hands. “And I have this hunch that you aren’t either—being the sheriff and all. ”

Moments passed, and I grew antsy. This had been a terrible fucking idea.

With a huff, I made to leave, but his hand shot out, halting me.

“Wait,” he demanded, making me bristle. “What’d you bring me, neighbor?”

His question wasn’t comical, but I laughed anyway. It was either that or throw the food I held in his face. Thankfully, I’d taken my own container out and left it in the car.

Technically, Emmett was my neighbor. Though his house was tucked so far inside the forest of trees separating the two properties, I couldn’t see it.

As my laugh lessened to more of a strained chuckle, Emmett smiled then plucked the bag from my grip before extending his hand once more. The weight of the simple gesture grew heavy, silencing my outburst altogether.

I reached out to shake his hand, and as soon as our palms connected, chills raced up my arm.

“Your favorite,” I whispered, but the curious look he wore had me stammering to clarify.

“From the grill,” I said. “The prime rib sandwich, right? Greer mentioned it was your favorite when my parents were visiting.”

“That’s right,” he confirmed as his confusion morphed to surprise.

After a few moments, he waved me into his office. He pointed to one of the chairs designated for visitors as if he wanted me to sit, then started for his own tucked behind the large mahogany desk. I caught sight of an open file that had my breath catching just as he flipped it closed.

“What’re you having?” he asked as I struggled to collect myself.

“I brought you a prime rib sandwich,” I repeated. “Oh, and Rita mentioned that you like huckleberry pie.”

“I do,” he confirmed with a disarming smile. “But I asked what’re you having?” he questioned as he started pulling containers from the bag.

My brain backfired. I was unaccustomed to the friendliness he was exuding, but now I wondered if I could handle it. One brief conversation and a couple smiles from him had my brain short circuiting .

Emmett gave me a concerned look, and I realized I hadn’t answered his question.

“I left my dinner in the car,” I said. “I wasn’t planning to personally deliver this.”

“Stay and eat,” he said, and my eyes widened at the suggestion. “Thanks for this.”

He might have been pointing at the food I brought, but I felt certain he was referencing more than just the sandwich and pie.

“And for what it’s worth,” he continued, “I apologize for my less than welcoming behavior.”

“I appreciate the apology,” I replied—shocked at how well this conversation had turned out.

But was I pushing my luck?

“Millie, I would love for you to join me,” Emmett said, earnestly. “Consider it two friends keeping each other company on Valentine’s Day. Plus, I would feel awful if you had to eat reheated food after bringing me mine fresh and hot,” he added.

I took a moment to consider his argument and could feel myself wavering.

“Let me run out to my car and grab it,” I blurted before I could convince myself otherwise.

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, rising from his chair.

“No!” I exclaimed, standing then hurrying for the door. “Stay, and start eating.”

He didn’t listen, following closely behind me only to be halted by someone calling his name.

“I need to speak with Deputy Carver quickly,” Emmett stated, peering in the opposite direction. “Then I’ll walk with you to grab your food.”

“No need!” I called over my shoulder, all but running toward the reception desk before he could rebut.

“Dorothy, I’ll be right back,” I said in passing as I made my way out into the lobby.

Stepping out of the building, I pulled my coat tighter. The temperature plummeted after sunset and had continued to drop while I was inside the department.

I was almost to my car when something suddenly had the hair on the back of my neck rising .

It was an overwhelmingly ominous feeling. So I made quick work of retrieving my takeout from the passenger’s seat then straightened, scanning the street.

I didn’t see anything suspicious and decided it must be the impending storm that had me shivering.