Free Anything but Mine by Linda Winfree Page B

deck. Lord, what a waste. He stepped inside, the glass-paned door closing behind him with a muted snick. A small apologetic grimace twisted his brows. “I’m sorry, Autry. I just didn’t think.”
    “It’s okay, Stan.” She glanced down at the table. Oh, heaven help her, he’d remembered exactly how she liked her cereal—a banana and strawberries sliced on top, a few blueberries tossed in for good measure. She frowned. There’d been no fruit in his refrigerator last night and they hadn’t picked any up at Winn Dixie, either.
    She tucked her tousled hair behind her ears. “Did you go shopping?”
    A crooked smile curled his mouth. He set the milk in the middle of the table. “Yeah. I remembered you liked fruit in the morning and I was out, so I skipped my run and went to the store instead.”
    This was what had started her slow tumble into love with him in the first place—these small kindnesses, the little ways he paid attention to her likes and dislikes. She hadn’t intended to love him at all. She’d been exploring an unexpected attraction, had told herself she could handle a short fling with the handsome new sheriff, no worries.
    She really had to stop listening to herself like that.
    He pulled out a chair for her. “Did you sleep well?”
    How was she supposed to answer that? Exhaustion had pulled her under pretty quickly, but she’d woken often during the night, disturbed by nightmares as well as the knowledge he was mere feet away. “Better than I thought I would, thanks.”
    He poured milk over his cereal. “Feel okay this morning?”
    Was this how it was going to be? This awful stilted conversation, them tiptoeing around each other? She picked up a banana slice from her cereal and popped it in her mouth. “Same as yesterday morning. Stanton, we’re not doing this.”
    Nervousness flickered in his eyes. “Doing what?”
    She reached for the milk. “Having too-polite conversations. Acting like strangers turned roommates. I’m a big girl. Like I told you, I’ve made it through four months of this pregnancy without you watching my every move. I’m not a fragile flower who can’t take a little stress.”
    He laid his spoon down and leaned back, frustration darkening his face. “This is out of my league. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
    “That’s my line, sheriff. You have two children already, remember?”
    The short bark of his laugh dripped self-deprecation. “Yeah, but I was finishing my last year in the army when Renee was pregnant with Hadden. I was in Germany and she stayed in Houston. When she was carrying John Logan, I was at Quantico and doing my compulsory training with the bureau. It’s not like I was around then either.”
    She sipped her juice. “Well, the first thing you’re not supposed to do is drive me up the nearest wall with those overprotective instincts of yours.”
    “I think I can handle that.”
    “Last night…why did you ask me if I knew the sex?” She fiddled with her spoon, watching him beneath her lashes. “Would you like another son?”
    He looked up at her, his expression guarded. “I haven’t really thought about it. Curiosity, I guess.”
    Mere curiosity. Silly of her to be hurt by that, when he’d never wanted to be in this situation with her. She pushed the cereal away, any appetite gone. “I’m going to get dressed. Thank you for the fruit. You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
    “No trouble.” His body still and tense, he fixed her with his steady, watchful gaze. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.” With a scornful laugh, she blinked back more of the stupid, weak tears and walked out of the kitchen.
    His chair scraped on the floor and he caught up to her in the hallway, taking her shoulders in a gentle hold and turning her to face him. “Wait.”
    Maybe he couldn’t see how close her emotions were to the surface. She smiled, her face aching. “I need to get dressed. I have a meeting at nine—”
    “It’s