Matt Walz looked down at the sparkling women rolling on the ground. So this is what being a small-town sheriff was like. He took a deep breath and jumped into the fray of the Miss Keeneston beauty pageant. Apparently the runner-up thought the winner had cheated and didn’t deserve to ride on the Fourth of July float next month.

“Son of a—” Matt yelled as one of them bit his ankle. “Ella! Don’t make me tell your mother!”

The girl in blue sequins looked up at him as she tried to rip the crown from the winner’s head. “She’s right there, Sheriff.”

Matt let his head fall back for just a moment as he tried to regain control on his patience. His walkie-talkie went off as his deputy, Cody Gray, called him. “What is it, Gray? I have my hands full.”

“I just got a text about the surprise party for the Rose sisters’ hundredth birthday, but when I pulled their licenses it says they’re eighty-three. Do I need to do something about that?”

Ella stopped ripping the crown from the winner’s head. “It’s the Rose sisters’ birthday?”

The winner’s head popped up. “Ah, congratulations on your win, Mary Ellen,” Matt said, hoping that didn’t restart the fight.

“Thanks. But did he say surprise party?”

Matt told Cody not to worry about enforcing the correct age on their license since they didn’t drive anymore and pulled out his phone as the pageant girls untangled themselves.

“We have to do something special for the Rose sisters,” Mary Ellen told the group as they clustered around their new leader. “Ella, do you think you could make a huge batch of your delicious beer cheese?”

“You bet,” Ella said, adjusting her evening gown to cover an exposed breast.

“I can make Benedictine finger sandwiches,” someone called out.

As Matt quietly slipped from the pageant, the girls all had their cell phones out and were bombarding Kenna, Dani, and Paige with texts. After all, that’s who sent him and his wife, Riley, the request to bring the disposable silverware.

Riley Davies Walz was working on her laptop when her husband came home. He took off his gun belt and laid it on the bar top before coming over to give her a kiss. Riley set aside her computer as he took a seat next to her on the couch. He tugged at several strands of red hair from the knot she’d tied it in at the beginning of the day.

“Busy day at the farm?” Matt asked, taking in her dust-smudged face.

“Yes. Dad was with his brothers mending fences over at Grandma and Grandpa’s farm today so I helped move all the cattle to the new pasture. And now this,” she waved to the computer.

Matt groaned. “Please tell me your father hasn’t sent another castration video. Does he really think we don’t have sex?” Her father, Cy, was a little . . . well, he was just her dad and slightly overprotective. Her mother, Gemma, on the other hand was trying everything she could think of to hurry along children for them.

“No. It’s about my term in the state legislature. I finished my second term so I have to run for reelection in November,” Riley explained.

“I thought you wanted to run for reelection.” Matt said, pulling her legs over his lap so he could hold her closer.

“I do. But Reagan has been disappearing a lot when she’s not flying horses to different farms and racetracks. Then Dad has been stretched thin, trying to care for our farm plus his parents’. I worry about not having the time to help out when they need it. I work the farm nine months of the year, but if Reagan disappears and Dad gets busy at the other farm, who will take care of our farm?” Riley let out a sigh and Matt pulled her closer.

“Riley, the better question is who will look out for the people of Keeneston if you aren’t in office? You’ve helped with farming legislation this year. You stopped the corruption that threatened the town last year. You know there’s more work to be done and you know you have ideas on how to do it,” Matt said gently. “And you know I’ll help out on the farm as much as I can. Even if your father threatens me every time your mother mentions grandchildren.”

That was the same argument Riley made to herself and why she’d already filled out the form she needed to file to declare her candidacy. All she had to do was send it, something she would do first thing in the morning. She had her big family to lean on. She knew if her dad needed help and she couldn’t be there, the Davies family would step up and help. Hearing Matt’s encouraging words was all she needed to solidify the decision.

“My dad won’t actually shoot the father of my children,” Riley said as she tried to sound convincing.

Matt scooped her up into his arms and carried her down the hall. “Let’s find out.”

Riley laughed as she threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “The bed is that way.”

“The warm-up is in the shower. I have so much sparkling shit on me from breaking up a fight at the pageant I’m afraid to see what happens if I sneeze.”

“Aw, did the big bad beauty queens scare you?” Riley asked sympathetically.

“Yes.” Matt set her down and turned on the water. “It was horrible. Clouds of hairspray,” Matt complained as he stripped her shirt from her body. “And the tape! Don’t get me started on the tape they put on their bodies. It was stronger than duct tape. That’s just not normal.” Matt reached down and pulled off Riley’s jeans. “And then Ella bit me!”

Riley laughed as her husband quickly shed his clothes. “She did not.”

“She did! Right on my ankle.” Matt showed her as they stepped into the large tiled shower with two showerheads and a bench.

“My poor husband,” Riley said, directing him to sit on the bench. “Let’s see what I can do about making you feel better.”

* * *

Nash and Sophie Dagher basked nude on their private beach in the Maldives. Just twelve days before, she had been Sophie Davies and now she was a married woman. Tomorrow morning, she and Nash would return to the real world. Their honeymoon had been everything they could have dreamed—peaceful and solitary. No phones, no one shooting at them, no one gossiping or placing bets on them. Just she and her husband.

“Shall we go for a quick snorkel before we get ready for dinner?” Nash asked. She felt the rumble of his words as she ran her hand absently over his chest.

“Hmm. Get ready for dinner? Nash, it’s only two o’clock.”

Nash ran a hand down her back, over her hip, and up to cup her breast. “I have plans that may delay your getting dressed.”

“Are you sure we have to go back?” Sophie asked as Nash laid her in the sand and covered her body with his.

“Shall we extend the honeymoon, wife?” Nash bent his head to her sun-kissed breasts and swirled his tongue around her peaked nipples.

“Definitely.”

They had been late to dinner and Nash couldn’t wipe the grin from his face because of it. They were staying in a private beachside villa at the end of the small resort. They had snorkeled, scuba dived, and boated around the beautiful islands while enjoying plenty of time basking in the sun and in each other.

The open-air luxury restaurant seated them at their romantic waterside table. Nash scanned the menu, but even the complete relaxation of their honeymoon didn’t stop him from noticing the hushed, yet heated, discussion between the maître d' and a person from hotel services.

“Is there a problem?” Sophie asked, not even taking her eyes from the menu.

Nash saw the man from hotel services gesture toward them. “I think we’re being discussed.”

“I think I’ll have the sea bass. Why don’t you see what they want? It could have to do with our leaving tomorrow.”

Nash slowly raised his hand and with the curl of his fingers gestured for the two men to come to them. The maître d' stopped first. “I am sorry for the interruption, Mr. and Mrs. Dagher. I know you said not to be bothered while on your honeymoon, but it appears you’ve a message from Kingston . . . Kenston?”

“Keeneston. It’s okay. I’ll take it.” Nash held out his hand and took the note from the hotel employee as Sophie tipped them. The men hurried from the table arguing as Nash read the note. “It appears we will be arriving right in time for the Rose sisters’ surprise hundredth birthday party. Dani says not to worry about a thing, just show up at the Ashton Farm at six o’clock.”

“We get into Lexington at five-thirty,” Sophie told him. “It’ll be tight to get there on time, but I think we can. Especially if I drive.”

“I think your love for speed is well documented, Soph. You almost sent me careening from the boat.”

Sophie giggled and Nash laughed. He raised his glass to his wife. “To the Rose sisters and to my wife.”

“To my husband.”

“And to our future children.”

They clinked glasses as the sun began to set over the crystal-blue ocean.