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He shifted his attention to the map before his thoughts wandered somewhere they had no business going during a town board meeting.

Whatever he thought about a production crew crawling all over Antelope Rock, he looked forward to one thing—seeing Amanda at work.

So far, he'd mostly known the woman who argued with him, teased him, got alpaca slobber on her hands, and looked damn good wearing nothing at all. He'd heard plenty about her professional life, but he hadn't actually watched her work.

The meeting finally ended a little before eleven. He escaped town hall before someone found another map to put in front of him and returned to the office. The rest of his morning and early afternoon disappeared beneath paperwork and two phone calls from people who apparently couldn’t get to the damn point.

Shortly after two, Grady was finishing a report when his cell phone rang. Amanda’s name appeared on the screen, and he reached for it with considerably more enthusiasm than he’d shown for anything else that day.

“Hey.”

“Are you busy? I’ve got a situation I could use your help with.”

Something in her tone made him put down his pen. “What kind of situation?”

“I’m on my way to the high school, and I’ve picked up a few unwanted stalkers. Three cars, possibly four. One of them pulled alongside me at a light, and the guy in the passenger seat started taking pictures.”

“Paparazzi?”

“Unless Antelope Rock has a very aggressive welcome committee.” She sounded annoyed rather than frightened, but the fact that she’d called him at all told him she didn’t intend to ignore it. “I’ve made a few extra turns to be sure they’re following me. They are.”

He pushed back from his desk. Photographers chasing Amanda around town was one thing. Following her onto school grounds, where students might get caught up in the commotion, was another. “How far are you from the school?”

“About ten minutes. I’m supposed to meet with the principal, a few teachers, and my production manager about the segment we’re thinking of filming there before I head to the auditorium for my community service.”

“Don't go to the school yet. Keep driving until I call you back.”

“I figured you’d say that. I don’t want to bring these people to the school, but I’m not familiar enough with the area to know where to lose them without ending up on somebody’s ranch, surrounded by a bunch of cows.”

He was already out of his office. As he passed the deputies’ desks, he caught their attention and motioned for two of them to follow. Both rose, and he covered the phone long enough to explain that photographers were following Amanda toward the high school. One deputy headed for the parking lot while the other reached for his radio to notify dispatch.

“Still with me?” he asked, bringing the phone back to his ear.

“Unfortunately. I was hoping you’d gotten distracted and forgotten to lecture me about my driving.”

“Not a chance. Keep your speed down and obey the traffic laws.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

Despite himself, he almost smiled. “You did call the sheriff.”

“I called Grady.”

That stopped him for half a step before he continued. He liked that she wanted the man he was, not his status.

“Right now, you get both.” He grabbed his keys and headed outside. “Tell me if any of those cars try to block you or force you off the road.”

“I know how to handle paparazzi. I’ve been dealing with them for years.”

“I know. You called because you don’t want them following you onto school grounds.”

“Exactly. The students shouldn’t have to deal with a bunch of relentless photographers because I’m there.”

He climbed into his SUV and started the engine, appreciating her concern for the students. “You did the right thing calling. We’ll keep them away from the kids. I’ll call when we’re ready for you. Just keep driving in circles until then.”

He ended the call and pulled out of the lot, with two deputies following in marked cruisers. Dispatch had already contacted the school, but he wanted a law enforcement presence at the entrance before Amanda and her unwanted entourage arrived. A photographer getting a picture of her on a public street was one thing. He wouldn’t let a pack of camera-wielding jackals turn the high school into a spectacle.

By the time he reached the school, it was between periods. Several students stood outside near the front entrance, talking in small groups and showing each other things on their phones. A few noticed the sheriff’s vehicles pulling in and stopped to watch, their curiosity piqued.