Read Stirring Up Trouble Online

Authors: Andrea Laurence

Stirring Up Trouble (9 page)

“Are you going to help me or just stand there?”

Maybe
.

“I'm coming,” he said. They used spray bottles to spritz the graffiti with paint remover and then had to kill a half hour while it dissolved the paint before they hit it with the pressure washer.

“It's a shame we can't leave,” Maddie said when they finished and settled onto the sidewalk to wait. “We're half a block from my house. At the very least, we could sit on my couch and wait in climate-controlled comfort instead of sitting out on the curb.”

“We could go in the firehouse and annoy your brother,” Emmett noted.

Maddie shook her head. “If I go in there without baked goods for them, they'd never let me come back.”

Emmett leaned back on his hands. “You mean you didn't pack us a treat today? You spoiled me with those MoonPies.”

“I didn't say that.” Maddie reached into her bag and pulled out a box with two sticky buns in it. “I just don't have enough for everyone.”

She handed over one of the gooey, nut-covered pastries and Emmett's stomach growled. He'd managed five hours of sleep before he got up for this and hadn't left himself enough time for food, just a mug of strong black coffee before he ran out the door. “You're going to get me hooked on all your goodies, and then I'll have to come into your shop and buy them after we've served our debt to society.”

Maddie smiled and tore off a bite that she popped into her mouth. She seemed more laid-back today. Happier. Last time he'd been too freaked out by how high up they were to notice her state of mind, but she seemed almost human today. The smile was a nice touch. Without stress etched into her face, there was a softness about her that made her beauty even more undeniable. In the early-morning light, there was a glow to her skin that beckoned him to touch her.

But he wouldn't. One good morning didn't mean she'd changed for good. Perhaps their battle was just feeding itself—the less sleep they got, the crankier they were; the more trouble they caused, the less sleep they got. Somehow, the cycle had been broken and they both seemed fairly at ease with each other. For now. He would never say it out loud, but maybe it was a good thing that they had gotten arrested.

“How's your new bakery assistant?” Emmett asked. He'd heard she'd hired one of the high schoolers to help. He'd had to make similar arrangements with Joy. He decided to open a little late on Wednesdays, but on Saturdays she'd open the bar and watch it during the early afternoon while he took a nap and showered. There was no way he could make it to two in the morning without a break.

“She's amazing. It's only been a few days and I really don't know how I've ever lived without her. She minds the shop in the afternoon, which gives me time to do other things. She cleans and helps bake. I'm absolutely spoiled and it's only the fifth day she's worked for me.”

“Ahh,” Emmett said. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you're in such a good mood. You're not nearly as stressed out as usual.”

“It certainly helps,” she admitted. “And I think we've both slept better this week, don't you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“A good night's sleep gives you perspective. This morning I woke up and decided that I don't want to sit back and let something like this go on anymore.” She gestured toward the blue fireman penis that was starting to drip down the wall. “The whole point of Judge Griffin making us work together was so that we would learn to get along. I think finding this guy and turning him over to the police would be a great way for us to build . . . I don't know . . . a rapport.”

“A rapport?”

“Yes, a relationship. One where I can call and ask you to turn down the music and you will, because you're not on the defensive about it.”

Emmett chuckled. “And what do I get out of this relationship? Are you going to stop parading princesses outside my window?”

“I will. I might also bring you your favorite goodies from time to time.”

“Okay,” Emmett said, considering her offer. “So we're officially calling a truce so we can catch the Penis Picasso. Once we've done that, we'll move forward, both being mindful of each other, and occasionally you will provide me with baked goods?”

“Yes,” Maddie said with the widest, most sincere smile he'd seen out of her yet.

Emmett held out his hand and they shook on it. The casual touch quickly turned more serious when her soft skin met his. It sent a surge up his arm, like a bolt of lightning, and suddenly his whole body was aware of how close they were. His gaze met hers for a moment, and he was pretty certain that she felt whatever it was, too.

At last, he pulled his hand away. “Okay,” he said, his voice shakier than he expected it to be. He needed to focus their discussion on something else. “What's your plan to nab our neighborhood vandal?”

“Well, I've looked back at the reports in the paper and there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the graffiti. There's been five incidents so far, and there's not a pattern I can discern. He hit the Piggly Wiggly on a Wednesday night, the power company on a Tuesday. The car wash was on a Monday, and the water tower on Friday night. This one”—she gestured behind her—“popped up Thursday night. I say we start tonight and see if we notice anything peculiar.”

“Why tonight?”

“Because I'm off Sunday and the bar opens later, so it won't throw our sleep off too badly.”

“That makes sense. What time?”

“I'm thinking maybe about two, after the bar closes. If you want to walk over to my place after you close up, we can take my car and drive around. I was thinking maybe we could park near the courthouse and watch for any sort of activity around the square. Most of the graffiti has been centered around the downtown area, so I think that's our best bet.”

Emmett wasn't so confident, but it was part of their agreement, so he'd give it a shot. Odds were they'd sit in the dark for a few hours, nothing would happen, and she'd give up. He wondered how much she'd care about the Penis Picasso when she wasn't the one who had to clean up after him anymore.

“Sitting on the job!” a man's voice shouted from behind them.

Emmett turned around in time to see Grant strolling out of the firehouse. His rusty red hound dog was on his heels. “We're letting the paint remover process,” he explained.

Grant wasn't paying any attention to Emmett's protests. His eyes were focused on the pink pastry box sitting between them. “What is that?”

Maddie and Emmett both looked down at the box, then back up at each other. “Nothing,” they said in unison.

Emmett slowly slid the remainder of his sticky bun behind his back.

“Yeah, sure,” Grant said bitterly. “And you've got nothing in your hand, either, right?”

“Nope,” Emmett insisted.

Grant's hound dog quickly rounded him and pressed his wet nose against Emmett's hand. Emmett tried to protect his treat, but he was found out. The dog lay down beside him like he'd found prey and started baying incessantly until Emmett finally tossed the last few bites to him. He snatched it out of the air, swallowing it in one bite and sitting on the sidewalk with a happy grin on his face. “Traitor,” Emmett muttered.

“I was going to say the same thing.” Grant turned to his sister and pointed an accusing finger at Emmett. “You don't even like him and he gets treats?”

“I would've brought something,” Maddie said, “if I'd known we were coming here.”

“You would've had to go a whole twenty feet out of your way to stop at the shop on the way over here. It's understandable.”

Maddie sighed. “I'm serving court-ordered community service. I'm not about to take any detours that would get me in more trouble than I'm already in. If you want something so darn bad, go down to the shop and tell Gertie I said to let you have whatever you want.”

“Gertie Perkins?” Grant asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, why?”

He shook his head dismissively. “Nothing.”

Maddie frowned at her brother. “What? Tell me. Does she have a bad reputation I need to know about?”

“Not at all,” Grant assured her. “She's a sweet kid by all accounts. I'm glad you gave her a job. It's
your
reputation I'm worried about.”

Emmett watched the frown fade away from her face. “Why?” she asked.

“Because,” Grant said, “back in high school you would've made life a living hell for a girl like Gertie. She's shy, quiet, doesn't keep up with the latest fashions, and has a unique look about her. You and your hens would've pecked at her until she cried herself to sleep each night.”

Maddie opened her mouth to argue with her brother, but the words seemed to be stolen from her lips. Finally, she shut her mouth and sighed. “You're probably right,” she admitted in a sad, defeated voice.

“You're not going to be mean to her now, are you?” Grant asked.

“Of course not,” Maddie insisted. “She's wonderful.”

“Okay,” Grant said, satisfied. “Now that we have that cleared up, I'm going to take you up on that free snack and say hi to Gertie.” He looked over his shoulder at the wall. “I think it's ready for the power washing. Come on, Chopper!”

Grant started off along the sidewalk with his dog trailing behind him. Emmett watched them disappear down the street, and then he turned back to the very quiet Maddie beside him. “Are you okay?”

Her head snapped around to look at him, her cheeks touched with the redness of emotion. “I'm fine,” she said.

He doubted that, but he wasn't going to push the subject. Most people didn't like to have their past sins pointed out. Brothers weren't known for pulling punches with that kind of thing. Apparently, Maddie had a long history of making people miserable, not just him.

He almost felt bad for her. She'd brought that on herself with her own actions, but he sure knew he wouldn't want someone to fling his old baggage back at him. Better to just change the subject.

“Okay, then,” he said, slapping his knees and standing up. “Let's show this fireman weenie who's boss.”

Chapter Nine

“We're wasting our
time,” Emmett complained.

Maddie frowned out the windshield. “You're giving up too easily. It's only been an hour.”

“Yes, but the only person we've seen since we parked here was your brother Simon driving by on patrol.”

“Do you not hunt?” Maddie asked, turning to him in irritation.

“No, I'm from Florida. The only thing I waste my time shooting is whiskey and pool. Wildlife and I have an arrangement—I leave them alone, they leave me alone. It's worked pretty well so far.”

Maddie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, here's lesson number one. You have to be patient. You can't just expect the prey to pop up right away. You have to be still, don't give it any reason for alarm, and wait for it to come to you.”

“We're not going to shoot this guy, are we?”

Maddie snorted. “No. It's just a metaphor. We've got to let the whole town fall asleep, then see if our sneaky little vandal thinks it's safe enough to venture out.”

“So we're just going to sit here until five in the morning?”

“You are the most impatient person I've ever met,” Maddie grumbled. “Yes.” She reached into the backseat and grabbed a box from the bakery. “See if this helps ease the discomfort of sitting in my presence for a few more hours.”

“What is it?” Emmett asked as he took the box from her.

“One leftover chocolate éclair, today's special, a couple different cookies, one or two dirty brownies, and a slice of orange pound cake.”

“Good Lord,” Emmett said, prying open the box. “How long are we going to be out here?”

“They're leftovers,” Maddie explained. She kept her eyes glued to the windshield, watching for any sign of movement around town. She expected whomever did this to travel on foot. A car would draw too much attention, but someone just walking around would hardly be noticeable. “Normally, I save all my leftovers for Jeanette Kincaid. Every morning, she comes by the shop to pick up anything I didn't sell and takes it to the battered women and children's shelter in Ashville.”

“Jeanette Kincaid? Isn't she the one who got arrested in the spring for peeping in women's windows?”

“Yes.” It had been quite the scandal, putting all the single women in town on edge thinking some pervert was on the loose. It turned out that Jeanette was just on the hunt for her wayward husband. “She was sentenced to community service, too, only she had to serve hers at the shelter. It really opened her eyes to how bad a relationship could be and how she'd completely overreacted to the situation with her husband. She's continued to volunteer there, at least a couple of times a week. I give her my day-old product so it doesn't go to waste. I know if I were in their situation, there's nothing I'd like better than a decadent treat to lose myself in for a few minutes.”

“Why didn't you give all this to her, then?”

“Because we're closed on Sundays. If I have a bunch left, I either take them by the police station or the firehouse. If it's just a little, I'll toss it or take it home to nibble on. Tonight, I brought it with us.”

Emmett pulled out a dirty brownie and took a bite. “This has an Oreo cookie inside it.”

She smiled. He wasn't the first one to be surprised. “I know, I put it there. It's a layer of chocolate chip cookie dough, a layer of Oreos, then a layer of brownie batter poured over the top. It's especially good fresh from the oven with vanilla ice cream on top.”

Emmett moaned at her suggestion. “That sounds amazing. I'm surprised though,” he said, taking another bite. “This isn't the kind of dessert I was expecting from you, Fancy Pants.”

Maddie shrugged off the nickname. He was right—it wasn't exactly the kind of thing she'd trained on. “I like to try different things. After you accused me of being too fancy, I thought I might try this recipe and see how it did. It sold out over lunchtime. I ended up making a second batch, and that's all that was left.”

Emmett stopped and turned to look at her. “Are you actually admitting that you took my advice and found it to be sound?”

Maddie refused to look at him, peering out the driver's window at the side streets with the binoculars she'd brought. No movement. She was hoping something would happen to derail the conversation, but she wasn't so lucky. “I'm saying that I've realized people don't necessarily want delicate high-quality pastries
all the time
. So, yes,” she admitted with a wince of pain, “I guess you were right.”

Emmett gloated for a moment, happily finishing his brownie before setting the box aside. After sitting silently together in the car for a few minutes, he said, “I haven't so much as seen a rabbit run across the lawn of the courthouse.”

“Are you going to start this again?” Maddie complained. “Eat a cookie.”

“Why don't we just talk? That helps pass the time, and I won't gain five pounds.”

“Talk about what?”

“I wanna talk about what happened between you and your brother at the firehouse yesterday.”

Maddie tore her gaze away from her neighborhood watch and met Emmett's curious green eyes. She frowned. “There's not much to talk about.”

Emmett chuckled. “Oh, I sincerely doubt that. The tension between you two was so thick you couldn't cut it with a knife. I think there's a long story there and we've got hours to kill. Lay it on me.”

He wasn't going to let this go. Her only choice was to tell him the truth or give up on her quest and drive him home. She slumped back into her seat. It wasn't as though he had a very high opinion of her that would be damaged by her confession, anyway. “I'm a mean girl,” she said simply. When Emmett didn't respond, she had no choice but to continue on.

“Back in school, I was at the top of the food chain. I was popular; I was a cheerleader; I had all the latest and coolest clothes and gadgets . . . My father pretty much gave me anything and everything I asked for. Obviously, I was spoiled and I could be an even bigger handful than I am now.”

“That's kind of terrifying,” Emmett said.

Maddie ignored his smart response. “Somehow, when I got into high school, spoiled kind of morphed into bratty, which ended up as just plain mean. There was a little clique of us, five girls who had the run of the school. Individually, we were okay, but once we got together, we could be really awful. We made fun of everyone, because we felt like we were better than everyone. We got a laugh out of it, and as friends, it was almost how we bonded.”

“You thought that was okay?”

“To be honest, I didn't really think about it. I was sort of lost in my own personal daily drama. If someone went home and cried one night, I didn't know or care. I was riding high on the wave of popularity and I felt almost untouchable. After graduation, things changed. My friends and I went our separate ways. Lydia is the only one who still lives in town, but she left for culinary school when I left for France. When I got back, there was less of the nastiness to others because I didn't have that circle of friends feeding it.”

“But you still thought you were better than everyone else in town?”

Maddie frowned and let her gaze drop into her lap. “I think highly of myself and my family, yes. I feel like I've worked hard for what I've achieved, and I expect others to do the same. I have a sense of pride in myself and everything that I do, so to me, it doesn't seem like I feel I'm better than other people, just that I'm the best me I can be. But that must not be how it comes off to others if so many people, including my own brother, think I'm so horrible.”


I
don't think you're horrible, Madelyn. You might have been a little terror in high school, but you've grown up. You donate to the homeless and you work hard to make Rosewood a more beautiful place. I think you just don't always realize that some of the things you say or do, even when being helpful, can come off as snobbish.”

Maddie sighed. “I know. And it seems like no matter how hard I try, I can't shake my old reputation. My brother was right. I would've made Gertie's life hell in high school. She's so awkward, in hand-me-downs and knockoff shoes. I never would've bothered to see that she's smart and kind and thoughtful. She's a good person, and I hate that people like me make things harder on a kid who's obviously already struggling. It really bothers me to think about it and admit it to Grant, but I know it's true.”

“You can shake your reputation, Fancy.” Emmett reached over and took her hand. Enveloped in his warmth, she found it difficult to concentrate on the topic. “You need to show people that you're not the kid you used to be. Drawing attention to your good deeds just looks like gloating, but maybe you can find another way to give back to the community.”

Maddie thought about the conversation she'd had with Alice. She'd really been excited about the prospect of showing a movie and seeing what the turnout was like. It was a perfect community event and one that Maddie could play a role in by sponsoring it. “I am talking to Alice Jordan about doing a movie in the square. Do you think that kind of thing would help?”

Emmett smiled. “I do. That's a great opportunity for you to get out there and mingle with everyone in town, not just the people who can afford to buy things at your bakery or socialize with you at charity galas or whatever you rich people get together and do.”

Maddie laughed. “Charity galas are just a cover for our secret plot of world domination.”

“That's what I thought.”

Maddie's gaze dropped down to her hand and she realized Emmett was still holding it. It felt so comfortable, so normal to be talking to him while they held hands. It shouldn't, but it did. There was something about Emmett, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, that drew her to him. Yes, they argued; yes, he had many annoying qualities that made him completely unsuitable for a woman like her . . .
Is that really being stuck-up?
But in the end, she couldn't deny that she was attracted to him.

His large, rough hands, his easy smile and messy hair were charming on him, yet seemed sloppy on any other man. He was the opposite of everything she'd ever sought out in a man. Since all those other relationships hadn't really worked out, maybe she needed to change tactics. Maybe she needed to do more than just prove to the community that she was open-minded . . . she needed to truly
be
open-minded. To open herself up to the idea of dating someone outside her usual dating pool.

She was definitely open to the idea of another kiss. The one in the bakery had been surprising, tingle-inducing, and over far too soon. Being handcuffed together had complicated the matter, but now they were together of their own volition. No handcuffs. No court orders.

“You really think I'm a good person?” she asked softly.

“I do,” he said, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. It sent a shiver of awareness up her arm, making her heart beat faster in her chest. “Everyone has to make the decision to be nice. I think you can choose to be someone people like and look up to for the right reasons.”

She could do that. “Thank you.” Maddie hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue. “Emmett, that night in the bakery when we kissed, you told me I was beautiful. Did you really mean that, or were you just trying to rile me up?”

“I meant it. You'll find that for my many vices, I'm usually pretty honest. I mean what I say. Why are you always questioning me when I say nice things about you?”

Maddie shrugged and looked down at their entwined fingers. “I don't know. I'm not used to it, I guess. Or I'm used to it being insincere flattery.”

Emmett shook his head. “I don't understand. I can't figure out why there aren't men lined up outside your door just waiting for the chance to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“I guess I've scared away all the eligible men in Rosewood. You're legally obligated to stick around.”

“I'm not obligated to be here right now,” Emmett said as he reached out to cup her cheek and turn her face to him. “It's my choice.”

The intense way he watched her made her insides feel like they were melting. “Okay,” she said, feeling emboldened by his touch. “Since you're so honest, tell me—would you like to kiss me again?”

His eyes narrowed at her in the darkness. “Do you think it would help or hurt our tentative truce if I said I did?”

“I guess it depends on how good the kiss is,” she answered with a sly smile curling her lips. She leaned in to him, sucking in a lungful of his scent she'd craved: a mix of woodsy earthiness and subtle spice. “Feel like taking the risk?”

He answered with his mouth, pressing his lips to hers before she could even react. Maddie stiffened at the suddenness of the kiss, but immediately responded to his touch. She couldn't help it. She found herself leaning into him, moaning softly against his lips as though he was the tastiest pastry she'd ever crafted.

The first time they'd been handcuffed together, but this time she had no impediment to her movement. Maddie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling as close to him as the obnoxious console between them would allow. She felt the heat of Emmett's hand at her waist, his touch burning through the fabric and raising her body temperature by a couple of degrees.

She had never been much of a fan of French kissing. A lot of the men she'd kissed in the past took it as an opportunity to try choking her with their tongues. It was sloppy, strange, and not at all arousing. All those men could've taken lessons from Emmett.

His tongue coaxed her mouth open, the silk of it gliding along her own. It caressed, teased, tasted. When he groaned against her lips, it built a warmth in her belly that she'd never experienced from kissing alone. As his hand moved up her side, nearing her breast, she could feel her nipples tighten in anticipation. She wanted him to touch her. Needed it. And yet a part deep inside of her started to tense and panic at the idea of where this might be heading.

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