“How did you end up in law enforcement, anyway? I wouldn’t have pegged you for that sort of career.” She filled the mug and handed it over.

“I took a class in criminal justice at Western Oregon University after I went back to college. I was already working on a book, I had an elective open, and I thought the subject matter would give me useful background. It did—but it also sucked me in. I took a few more classes, realized the job would be a fit, and ended up changing my major.”

“Did you come here straight after graduation?”

“No. My first job was in Coos Bay. I found Hope Harbor while tooling around the area in my free time and knew this was where I wanted to settle. As soon as there was an opening, I applied. There’s something special about this place.”

“I hear you.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I imagine your career gives you valuable insights and inside information for your novels.”

“A side benefit.”

“So how’s the next book coming?”

He appraised her over the rim of his mug. Was she trying to segue back into the discussion about the festival—or was she genuinely interested in his writing?

The silence lengthened, and soft color stole over her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. But I imagine it would be difficult to concentrate on a creative project when your world’s been disrupted.”

“It has been.” There was no downside to admitting that. In fact, there might be an upside. Maybe he could use the need to make up time as an excuse to decline her request about the festival. “I try to work every night for a couple of hours after my shift ends, but it’s been a slow slog. I’m losing ground on my deadline.”

Her features softened. “More pressure you don’t need right now.” She motioned toward the back door. “Why don’t we sit on the deck? The space is kind of tight, but it’s relaxing out there—and the view is world-class.”

“Fine by me.” Anything that could help him chill was worth a try.

She took the lead, claiming one of the two folding chairs tucked close together on the tiny deck.

Too close.

She hadn’t been kidding about the tight quarters.

This may not have been the best idea after all.

“I won’t bite, Jack.” She cradled her mug in her fingers, a teasing glint flashing in her irises.

“That’s what you said the day we met at your dad’s house.” When she’d stopped to talk to the newest landscaping employee—and put him in her sights.