Free A Lawman in Her Stocking by Kathie DeNosky Page B

for the sake of the town anyway? Not only had the guys over at Luke’s given him a hard time about taking a damned painting class with old Corny and her hens, he’d just been neutered by a sweet little sixty-year-old lady he’d known all of his life.
    “You’re doing a wonderful job, Dylan. I’m very impressed with your progress.”
    At the sound of Brenna’s soft voice, he raised his head and anything he might have said about not giving a damn whether he was good at the technique or not, lodged in his throat. The smile she gave him was so encouraging, he forgot all about the guys over at Luke’s or that he’d just been stripped of his gender by Mildred. All he could think of was how soft Brenna’s lips looked and how he’d like nothing more than to taste them again, to feel them beneath his as he kissed her.
    “Would you like to go over to Luke’s for a cup of coffee after class?” he blurted out without thinking of where he was, or that he had an audience.
    The background buzz of female voices suddenly stopped as if they awaited Brenna’s answer, and when he glanced around the room, Dylan barely controlled the urge to squirm. The knowing smiles on the women’s faces sent heat creeping up his neck to spread across his cheeks. He’d just the same as announced an interest in Brenna to an entire roomful of world-class gossips.
    But as the women continued to grin at him, he decided there was no sense denying it any longer—not to himself or anyone else. He was interested in Brenna and not because he’d been ordered to take her class, or for the information she might pass on about the B.S. Club project.
    Whether he liked it or not, the more he was around Brenna, the more he wanted to know about her, and the more he wanted to explore the attraction that seemed to draw them together like a magnet. He’d just have to make sure he kept it casual. That shouldn’t be difficult, he decided.
    Coming to terms with the realization, and his decision, he grinned back at the roomful of women, not giving a damn what they thought. “So what do you say?” he asked, turning his attention back to Brenna. “Want to go for coffee after class?”
    Her cheeks colored a pretty pink as she glared at him. “I don’t think—”
    Before Brenna could finish turning him down, old Corny came to his rescue by jumping to her feet and announcing, “Girls, it’s time to quit for the evening.”
    He watched Brenna look helplessly around the room at the women gathering their painting supplies. “But class isn’t over. We still have another fifteen minutes, ladies.”
    “Brenna, dear, will you be available tomorrow evening for a meeting of the Beautification Society’s planning committee?” Cornelia asked as she hurriedly stuffed bottles of acrylic paint into a small box.
    As Brenna’s disapproving expression turned to anticipation, a tight knot formed in the pit of Dylan’s belly and his eyebrow twitched. He could tell she not only looked forward to being part of the Main Street Project, she was eager to get started.
    “What time should I be here, Mrs. Worthington?” she asked.
    “Seven is our usual meeting time,” Corny said, picking up the basket of painting supplies and heading for the door. The old gal stopped to send a wink his way. “The meeting will be over around eight-thirty, in case someone wants to give her a ride home, Dylan.”
    “I’ll remember that,” he said, grinning back at the older woman.
    The women cleared the room in record time, and when the last one closed the door behind her, Brenna turned to glare at Dylan. “I hope you’re happy, Sheriff. You’ve single-handedly destroyed my first Folk Art class.”
    “Nope.” His unrepentant grin took her by surprise. “As far as I could tell, it was a huge success.”
    “How can you say that?” she asked incredulously. “Everyone left before they’d completed the project.”
    He stood, then rounding the table, stopped in front of her. “Anything that