A Little Country Christmas - Carolyn Brown Page 0,39

back to the now-full coffeepot.

Another standoff.

Neither of them responded.

“Okay, then,” Teddy said. “Awkward,” he added with a mumble that was probably only meant for his fellow deputy but Peyton caught it nonetheless.

Awkward. Yeah. That pretty much summed up the morning so far, and it was only nine o’clock.

“How do you take yours?” he asked over his shoulder.

He waited for her to say cream and two sugars, just like his, and then braced himself for yet more ribbing from Deputy Crawford after.

“Black,” she said. “And I hope you brew it strong.”

That he did. Maybe he couldn’t stomach the bitterness of drinking it straight, but that didn’t mean he liked it watered down. Not even close.

He pivoted back toward his guests, a mug of coffee extended over his desk toward Deputy Garcia.

She raised a brow as she peered into the mug, the rich, dark liquid letting off steam.

She breathed in and sighed. “Not bad,” she said, then leaned over his desk to peek into his mug. She chuckled. “Didn’t take you for the cream-and-sugar type. Actually, didn’t take you for the drip type at all. I’m surprised you don’t have your own little barista. Only the fancy stuff for city folk, right?”

Peyton shrugged. “Guess you’re just chock-full of misconceptions today.”

“Anyway,” Teddy said, and Peyton realized he needed to shift his focus from all things Deputy Garcia to why she and her partner were here.

“Right,” Peyton said. “Let’s get down to business.” He relaxed into the high-backed leather chair that—while it, too, had belonged to Mayor Grady—he wasn’t against keeping even after he tailored his office more to his liking. But that would come later. After the house. For now the space was functional, and that was all that mattered.

“As you know, Mayor Cooper,” Deputy Crawford began, “the—uh—Holiday Lights Parade is next week. On Christmas Eve.”

He paused, and Peyton guessed the other man was waiting for him to get sulky, but he wouldn’t give Keith the satisfaction, even if his assistant wasn’t in the room. So instead he forced a grin, possibly too big of a grin judging by the two deputies’ puzzled expressions. Maybe he was overcompensating for the sulking—that he hadn’t even done—but he didn’t want anyone mistaking his reaction for anything other than pleasant.

“Excellent tradition,” he said, letting the muscles in his face relax a little. “As are all Meadow Valley traditions—as long as they don’t cost the town more money and time than they’re worth.”

Deputy Crawford took a long swig from his travel mug before continuing. “The thing is, Mr. Mayor, with all due respect, Meadow Valley is what it is because of traditions. Occasions like this that bring the whole town together. It seems maybe you’ve forgotten how special that is. Even though you’ve been back almost six months and acting mayor for half of that time now, it’s been awhile since you’ve been around for the lights parade. The sheriff was worried about you…How did he put it? About the mayor’s office bowing out of the parade. He assumed it was because you were short-staffed, seeing as it’s only you and Keith until after the first of the year.”

Peyton gave Dani a knowing look. “Wow. News sure does travel fast, doesn’t it, Deputy Garcia?”

She raised a brow. “I was concerned that you might need help but not know how to ask for it.” Then she paused to take a sip of her coffee. “And of course my suggestion of finding you a few extra hands—after office hours, of course—blew up right in my face.”

“How’s that?” Peyton asked.

“He sent us as reinforcements,” she said. “Which means I’m pulling double duty because there’s no way I’m letting the sheriff’s office lose.”

Interesting. If Peyton had to describe her tone in nothing more than one word, he might call it sulky.

He bit back a smile. “I didn’t think the parade was a competition,” he said. But then the other part of her sentence sank in.

He sent us as reinforcements.

His smile fell. “While I appreciate your concern for my lack of extra hands around here, the square technically isn’t part of First Street,” he said. “If the town hall takes a break this year or next year or indefinitely—”

“Indefinitely?” Deputy Garcia asked, incredulous. “Maybe we have too many festivals for your liking, but this one? It’s the oldest and dearest to so many residents. And also, you’re wrong. Because First Street ends at the square.”

“But the address of all three buildings on the square is On the Square. Not First Street. So