Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

“Did you forget to stretch?”


The girls had phones in their hands.

Let the River Bend gossip begin.



Did the woman not know how she looked wearing those tiny shorts and the snug top soaked in sweat? Gill couldn’t help but wonder if the teenage boys of River Bend High fantasized about their fine sheriff.

Lord knew if he had a coach that looked like her in school, he might have joined track.

He enjoyed making her blush. It was obvious that his unexpected presence tossed her around a little. And if there was something he knew about women, it was that when they were frazzled, they were interested.

JoAnne Ward was completely frazzled.

He’d listened enough to her conversations about her routine to know that she was on the track field with the teens every morning before she went to work. It was safe to say that after all the rain that had dumped on the coast of Oregon since they’d returned from the East Coast, this first dry day would ensure that he’d catch her there.

Gill enjoyed the brisk ride down, made good time on the backcountry roads. He never worried too much about speeding tickets, and his bike gave him the maneuverability to get around the objects left behind by the passing storms.

River Bend, or the few roads where the city center was housed, was just as small as Jo had described. Yet the outlying areas, the places that were tucked off the main drags, the farms and larger pieces of property, spread out to her borders. And there was plenty of forest to make up for everything else.

It was quiet. That was the thing that stuck out the most as he drove through. Close to seven thirty and the town was barely waking up.

The high school, Gill decided, was bigger than any other part of the town.

The parking lot wasn’t extremely big, but it was filling fast when he pulled in and parked next to Jo’s squad car.

A chorus of good-byes caught Gill’s attention.

Jo’s teens were telling her they’d see her tomorrow. Two of the girls looked his way and quickly started laughing as they walked off.

Gill didn’t think Jo had many men around or his just showing up wouldn’t have caused this kind of response.

Jo lifted a backpack over her shoulder. “You know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

He shook his head.

“You’ve started the gossip train.”

“What gossip?”

Jo stood toe-to-toe, her head tilted back.

“Only my dad called me JoAnne. And no one, and I do mean no one, has met me by the bleachers that I didn’t make run.”

He liked the implications of that.

“So using your name, and being here, is gossip worthy, eh?”

“You have no idea.” She looked around them.

Gill removed his sunglasses, tucked them in an inside pocket of his jacket. “Well, you know what we should do then?”

Jo turned her attention back to him. “What?”

“Give them something to gossip about.” He reached for her waist and pulled her close.

She didn’t resist, but then again, the look of surprise said he caught her off guard.

“I missed you,” he said, right before he kissed her.

He thought for sure she’d push him away.

She didn’t.

So he kept his lips to hers until she moaned, and then he set her back. “There we go,” he said. “Something to talk about.”

“My badass rep is now shot to hell,” she said, licking her lips.

Gill took the backpack from her shoulder. “Have you seen the size of me? Your badass rep just showed up.”



“I need a quick shower.”

“Need help?” Gill asked.

Jo disappeared around the corner of her living room into what he assumed was her bedroom.

“Ha-ha! You show up and I’m late isn’t a great combination.”

Gill walked over to her fireplace, mumbling, “I think it’s a fabulous combination.”

Pipes in the walls whistled as Jo turned on the water. “Make yourself at home!”

A framed American flag sat center stage over the fireplace, the plaque under it stated Sheriff Joseph Alan Ward, along with the date of his death. To the right of the flag was a picture of Jo as a teenager, her father in uniform, standing beside her.

Gill picked it up to study.

Jo was younger, just as beautiful. There was an edge about her smile, something sneaky she was holding back. Her father squeezed her shoulder close to his, as if her closeness was rare and he wanted to hold her for as long as he could.

A pang of sadness for the man’s loss strummed against Gill’s breastbone.

The next framed picture was more recent. This one made his mouth water.

Jo stood beside two women, one in a wedding dress, the other dressed identically to Jo. A wedding, obviously, with three great friends. JoAnne Ward cleaned up really friggin’ well. A dress, makeup . . . details to her hair, including tiny flowers. He wondered if she hated fluff and the flowers, or did she secretly crave them? She was beautiful, like any bridesmaid should be. Here she appeared less guarded, more relaxed, than she did in the picture with her father.

Gill replaced the photo, craving more.

On the wall hung a picture of her father, again in uniform. This was one that had been taken professionally, one that law enforcement took of their own the day they finished the academy. Right beside it, Jo placed her identical picture.

Gill started to sense a theme.

He moved from the pictures to the house. It felt heavy, dark. A man’s home with a sprinkling of female. Like the recliner that sat beside the sofa, it screamed man but had a soft ivory throw tossed over the back of it. The house was neat, not like that of a bachelor, but of a woman living without a husband and kids. The few personal items placed on the coffee table or on the kitchen counter were placed, not thrown down and forgotten.

Gill thought Jo would be more of a throw down kind of woman. The neatness surprised him.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the neatness was at an OCD level. Gill moved into the kitchen and opened a cupboard. Neat.

He opened another . . . neat.

Gill frowned until he opened the fridge.

The mess made him smile. Okay, so Jo wasn’t clinical about tidiness.

“Hungry?” he heard Jo ask behind him.

He closed the door and turned around without explanation.

Jo’s hair was wet and pulled up into a knot on top of her head. Her face was clean of makeup with the exception of a tiny bit of lip gloss. She didn’t need anything more.

She was half dressed. Well, she had the standard uniform on with her dress shirt unbuttoned, a T-shirt underneath covering his view.

“I am hungry,” he said, his voice low.

Jo blushed.

He loved making her do that. Gill slid beside her, stopped her from buttoning up her shirt by pulling her into his arms. “Hi,” he said, as if he were seeing her for the first time that day.

“This is crazy,” she said before reaching for his lips with hers.