Lane glanced over her shoulder at the tornado of toys amassed on the floor and the pile of dirty laundry still waiting to be washed. The last thing she needed was a stranger getting a first-person account of her real-life chaos. “Downstairs.”

The deputy followed her down to the café’s sitting area. After settling Noah with a basket full of plastic dinosaurs to choose from, Lane found the deputy studying the photos and art along the wall where a large fireplace anchored the room.

“These are great. Are they all yours?”

“Some.” A tickle of insecurity pushed her forward. “Some are pieces created by students at the community center. I don’t mean to rush you, but I really do have somewhere to be, Deputy Lynch—”

“This town isn’t that big and since we’re practically neighbors”—Deputy Lynch turned from the wall of photos, the edge of his lips curling— “you can call me Charlie. I’d actually prefer it over what the rest of the town is calling me.”

Lane frowned. “Which is?”

“The new guy. Newbie. Deputy New.” Charlie’s tanned cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink. “And some others not worth mentioning.”

A smile came so easily to Lane’s lips that it startled her. Where had that come from? Her eyes found Charlie’s and it was hard not to be drawn into the richness of his gaze or imagine the kind of names the handsome new deputy might be adorned with.

Lane shook the thought away and let the smile slip back to where it belonged. “Would you like some fresh banana bread? Ms. B—I mean, your aunt and I just made it. It’s her recipe and very good.” Amusement lanced Charlie’s features, causing Lane to drop her gaze. “Of course, I’m sure you already know that.” Why was she so nervous? Taking a breath to get control of her nerves, she met his stare. “I’m sorry, Deputy”—his chin tilted—“Charlie, but I’m really going to be late if we don’t get started.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Charlie sat at the edge of an overstuffed club chair and pulled a notebook from his pocket.

“If I’m calling you Charlie, I must insist you call me Lane. Not ma’am or Mrs. Kent. Please.” She sank onto the cushion at the farthest end of the couch, opposite him and the woodsy scent of his aftershave. “Being called ma’am makes me feel old.” It was also a painful reminder that Lane needed to dismiss the thoughts she was having regarding the deputy who was there to do his job.

“I apologize. Habit.” Charlie settled into the chair and opened the notebook. “Sheriff Huggins said you like to hike around the river. Take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s what you were doing out there yesterday?”