Fried Pickles and the Fuzz Read Online Free PDF Page B

keeping their own stock fed , let alone a horse that didn’t belong to them. Granted, Heather had paid for most of his feed and hay, but that still meant someone had to be willing to house him , and the list of willing folks was getting pretty slim. Most folks w eren’t real keen on having a ho rse around that might die any time.
    At times like this , she wished she had more of the spunk Granny Joy had been known for. Her scathingly brilliant ideas had come in almost every fashion, from helping to boost the Historical Society fundraisers to giving marriage advice to those who had come looking for answers . She’d been a wiz with problems and had had a knack for charming folks and getting them to help out when they ’d been on the fence about whatever issue the grapevine had been currently buzzing about. It had helped that everyone in town adored her.
    This would have been a snap for Granny.
    â€œA week, you said?” Heather swiped the tear from her cheek and turned to face Bronson.
    â€œY eah.”
    â€œI’ll figure something out.” She turned and made her way back through the police department toward the front door with Bronson following close on her heels. It was getting late , and if she only had a week to find a home for Gus , t hat meant the coming days were going to be busier than normal for her. Big Creek D ays or not, she was going to have to make time to find a permanent solution.
    â€œHeather, I’d be happy to help in any way that I can.” Bronson stepped around her and gave the front door a nudge , swinging it open.
    â€œThanks, but I’m sure I can manage.” She shook her head. “You’ve got more important things to deal with than worrying about finding an old horse a home.”
    Bronson gave her a sad smile and nodded. “The offer stands.”
    Her heart fluttered. Sexy. Even though she was a bit irritated at him for locking Gus up, she understood his point. H e could probably give her an animal - at - large citation , and she would still want to grab him and kiss the fire out of him. “I appreciate it.”
    Bronson stepped closer, his right arm still extended , keeping the front door open. Heat radiated off his body, scorching her through layers of clothes. His scent wrapped around her, velvety and smooth with a hint of earthiness . She bit back a moan.
    â€œUm… Heather…” He cleared his throat.
    Oh no. This was it. The moment that she had been waiting for. She had seen him like this about a dozen times in the past couple months , and she was sure she knew what was coming. Leave it to a man to pick the worst possible time to ask a girl out on a date. She needed to say something before he did. Not that she didn’t want him to ask , but this was so not the right time. Do it. Say something witty. Sweet. “Chicken fried steak tomorrow.” Yeah, that was a real winner.
    Bronson blinked his eyes and stared at her for what seemed like a full minute. Then, slowly he stepped back and nodded. “Sounds good.”
    Heat climbed up her neck. Really? College educated and the best thing she could come up with was what was on the special’s menu for the next day? Judging by the slightly confused expression marring Bronson’s handsome face , she would have been better off saying anything but that. “I need to go. Lots to do this week.” She ducked her head and made a b ee line back to the café, not even slowing down when he ’d called out to her.
    She climbed the stairs at the rear of T he Pickle and unlocked her apartment door. He probably thought she was stark raving mad. It would serve her right if he never asked her out. And why would he now? No man wanted to date a nut job with a knack for shoving her foot in her mouth and making a total fool of herself.

 
Wednesday
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    Bronson couldn’t help but grin as he watched the kids chasing the greased pigs around the makeshift enclosure. Squeals