Page 77

Four of his deputies worked the overtime detail, paid by the production company. Two handled traffic at either end of the closure, while the others monitored the barricades, pedestrians, and the growing number of onlookers. The businesses along the block were still accessible, except the one used for filming, where access was restricted to staff, cast, crew, and anyone else authorized by production.

So far, Grady had no complaints about how things were being handled. The department had announced the planned closures ahead of time on its website and social media pages, with notices posted along the affected streets to give residents and businesses plenty of warning.

Spectators were gathered behind the barriers. Most were locals, and Grady recognized nearly all of them. Some stood drinking coffee and watched the activity, and a few had their phones out, already taking pictures even though Amanda hadn’t appeared yet. Mixed among the familiar faces were several people he didn’t know and had no desire to know. After the trouble at the high school, he’d become pretty damn good at recognizing the reporters and photographers who’d descended on Antelope Rock.

His gaze drifted back toward Rock Heritage Hat & Boot Co. The shop was the first location on the production schedule that would keep Amanda and the crew busy for the next two and a half weeks. Today, the plan was to fit her for a custom pair of Western boots and make her a hat while she was there. The boots would take a few days to finish, giving the crew a reason to return and film her picking them up.

His attention shifted to the RV parked on a side street. Amanda had told him it would serve as her dressing room, with space for hair, makeup, and wardrobe. She’d probably been inside since before he arrived, which explained why he hadn’t seen her yet.

That bothered him more than it should have. Hell, not seeing enough of her had bothered him for the past nine days.

Since the night she’d spent at his house, they’d managed only a few minutes alone together. Between her community service, helping Aunt Edith, Fen, and the advance team dragging her around town to scout potential filming locations, someone or something always seemed to demand her attention. Madeline had flown back to Los Angeles days ago, but that hadn’t made Amanda’s schedule any less hectic. And the reporters and photographers who’d decided Antelope Rock was suddenly worth their attention had only made things worse.

After the high school incident, the paparazzi got the message to stay away from the students and off school property, but they didn’t leave town. From what little Grady had witnessed, Amanda handled them better than he would have. She ignored the shouted questions, refused to react when they tried to provoke her, and seemed to know exactly when a camera was trained on her.

He hated that she needed the skill.

Neither of them wanted to be seen together often enough for the reporters to start wondering why. He’d managed to show up a few times when he could legitimately call it official business—checking on things, making sure there weren’t any problems, doing what anyone would expect the county sheriff to do with a swarm of reporters hanging around town. But he couldn’t spend much time talking to Amanda when other people were around. So he kept his distance, even when every instinct urged him to walk over to her.

Whenever he was in her vicinity, he caught himself paying closer attention to unfamiliar vehicles, people holding phones at suspicious angles, and faces he didn’t recognize. He’d spent most of his adult life noticing those things because of his job. Now he was doing it because he didn’t want anyone discovering what was happening between them.

Not because he was ashamed of what was happening between them. Far from it. But it was nobody else’s damn business, and Amanda didn’t need another piece of her private life turned into public entertainment.

That ruled out sneaking over to Edith’s at night. One picture of the sheriff slipping through her aunt’s front door after dark would start speculation, and his house wasn’t any safer.

So they talked on the phone. A lot.

Some nights for hours. Without other people around or cameras to worry about, they’d gotten to know each other better during those late-night conversations.

And on a few occasions, talking had turned into phone sex.

The memory of Amanda’s voice two nights ago was enough to make Grady shift his stance.

Those calls had been a hell of a lot of fun, but they hadn’t done a damn thing to satisfy his need to have her in his arms again.

He wanted another night with her. Wanted to kiss her without wondering who might be watching and wake up beside her without an alarm set for five in the damn morning so he could sneak her home before anyone saw them. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his instead of closing his eyes and imagining it while listening to her through a phone.

At this point, he'd be happy with a few uninterrupted hours when neither of their phones rang and no one knocked on a door.

“Would you look at all this?”

Grady recognized Willow’s voice and turned to find her walking toward him with Dale and Jeremiah. Word of the first official filming day had drawn half the town out, including three people who should’ve had better things to do on a Monday morning.

Willow stopped beside him and slowly surveyed the production setup, her eyes widening when another large equipment case rolled past. “I knew there’d be cameras, but I didn’t realize it took this many people to make a television show.”

“Neither did I.”

Dale shoved his hands into his jeans pockets as he studied one of the equipment trucks. “What the hell do they need all that stuff for?”

“No idea.” Grady followed his gaze to a crew member carrying a boom microphone that looked more like a metal pole with a furry dead animal attached to the end. “Stopped trying to figure out what half this equipment does about twenty minutes ago.”

Jeremiah tipped his hat back and squinted toward the store as two crew members carried lighting equipment through the entrance. “Nathan wanted to come, but somebody had to stay home with the kids.”

Grady snorted. “And you three drew the long straws?”

“Damn right,” Dale said without an ounce of guilt.

Willow elbowed him, although her grin suggested she agreed. “We’re curious. Like everyone else. Exciting stuff rarely happens around here.”