Pushed to the Limit (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 2) by Karen Chester Read Free Book Online Page A

irreconcilable
differences, like the fact that she wanted to go to college back east and
experience life in a big city, while he wanted to stay close to his family and
had zero desire for a big city life. Twelve years on, and with more experience,
she’d thought—hoped—she was more immune to Owen’s charms, but it seemed her
body hadn’t got the memo.
    Today he wasn’t in his deputy sheriff’s
uniform, but he still looked pretty fine in distressed blue jeans and a soft
white T-shirt that hugged his chest. Becky was standing behind the stall table,
watching Emma and Owen with a slightly amused smile. Becky Lundy, owner of Becky’s
Diner, was a voluptuous goddess who held herself above all romantic turbulence.
Though many men wooed her, none so far had captured her heart, and that
appeared to suit Becky just fine.
    “Whatcha got there?” Owen asked, tilting
his chin at the books in Emma’s hand.
    “Found these at one of the stalls. Classic
bodice-rippers from the eighties.” She held up the lurid covers for him to see.
    “I remember you liked that stuff.” Unlike
others, Owen had never criticized her love for a good, epic, meaty novel. In some
ways, he had been a perfect match for her, and since her return to Greenville,
she wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t wondered if they could rekindle
their relationship. There had been a couple of times when something might’ve
happened, but it appeared they were both older and warier, because so far
nothing significant had eventuated.
    “Thanks for minding the stall for me,” she
said to Becky.
    “No problem.” Becky unclipped the fanny
pack and handed it back to Emma. “I kept my eyes peeled. One customer tried to
sneak a stuffed owl into her purse. Can you believe it? But I called her out,
and she paid up rather reluctantly.”
    “You were better than me, then. Faye put
several things in her shopping bag, and then told me what the total was. She refused
to let me check her bag.” Emma aimed a mischievous smile at Owen. “If only
you’d been here earlier. I’m sure she wouldn’t have tried that on with a deputy
sheriff around.”
    Owen didn’t look too thrilled at the
prospect of laying down the law to Faye. “As far as I’m aware, she’s a model
citizen.”
    “A model citizen?” Emma couldn’t help
snorting. “If that’s the case, why do so many people besides me want to
throttle her?”
    Owen blinked and straightened his stance.
“Who wants to throttle her?”
    In a second the levity had vanished, and he
had clicked back into cop mode. It still took her by surprise, the fact that
the boy she’d snuck out with at night was now an experienced law enforcement
officer who might take a more literal interpretation of the word “throttle.”
    She quickly toned it down. “Oh, you know,
it’s just an expression. She has a way of rubbing people the wrong way.”
    “So you were exaggerating?”
    “I suppose so.” She nodded, and her stomach
pinched as the corners of his mouth pulled down. So what if Owen disapproved of
her? Nothing new there. A few months ago he’d made his feelings clear that he didn’t
like her meddling in a murder case, even after she’d turned out to be right.
    Owen rubbed his forehead. Moments ago his
whiskey brown eyes had been warm and friendly, but now they were guarded.
“You’re not getting mixed up in anything, are you?”
    She huffed out a breath. “Honestly, Owen.
You make me sound like a walking talking disaster.”
    “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m
only looking out for you.”
    “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a fully
grown adult. I can take care of myself.”
    His dubious expression said otherwise, but
Owen didn’t rise to the bait. “I’ll see you around,” he murmured. A brief nod
at Becky, and then he sauntered away.
    Becky made a ‘tch’ sound at the back of her
throat. “Aw, isn’t that sweet? The man’s worried about you.”
    “That’s not sweet. It’s