Arresting His Soulmate (Silver Spoon Heroes)
1. Ashton
Chapter 1
Ashton
I walk out of The Golden Mug, sipping my rapidly cooling coffee, and wonder why I didn't take up an easier profession, like lion taming. I unlock my patrol car and slip behind the wheel, telling myself that today will be an ordinary, dull day in Silver Spoon Falls.
When my phone buzzes loudly against the cup holder, I nearly spill the precious liquid all over my uniform. Not the best goddamn way to start a morning. I groan, seeing Sheriff Dillon Armstrong's face flash across the screen.
"Morning, Ash." Dillon's voice crackles through the line with a slight static that makes him sound like he's announcing a boxing match.
"If you're calling me, I already know it isn't going to be a good morning," I reply, keeping my tone light while reaching for a napkin to mop up the coffee splatter on my pants.
He chuckles, which isn't always a good sign. "You got it. Listen, Roger is down with the flu still. I'm gonna need you to work a double and do a few extra patrols near the Falls today."
Fucking hell. "Roger just started a month ago," I remind the sheriff. "And this is his third goddamn call in."
Although there isn't much crime in Silver Spoon Falls, it burns my ass up knowing I have to do someone else's job as well as my own.
"I can count," Dillon grumbles. "Don't fucking worry. I’ll be discussing Roger's future with him the next time he decides to grace us with his presence. Now, I need you to drive down Harvey's road at least two or three times so he knows we're patrolling the area."
"Let me guess." I already know why my bright, sunny day just took a nosedive. Dealing with Harvey Davis' complaints has been an ongoing pain in my ass for years. This is why I asked Dillon to assign the new guy to the grouchy old farmer's patrol sector. "The high school kids must be tearing up his road again," I say, recalling the last time I had to deal with him. The man has a penchant for embellishing his version of events, like claiming the cows were organizing a protest against the noisy invaders.
"You know it. Apparently, those little assholes brought entirely new decibels into play, and Harvey's ready to call the mayor if we don't take care of it." It isn't like the lazy ass mayor would do shit, but I keep my opinion to myself. "Just check it out a few times to smooth Harvey's ruffled feathers."
"I will." After placing my coffee cup in the holder, I pull on my seatbelt. "But I'm not happy about it."
"I don't know how I'll sleep tonight knowing that." With one last chuckle, Dillon hangs up, and I take a deep breath and one last swig of my coffee. Silver Spoon Falls might not be the wildest beat, but it's never dull.
I push the red button, and the patrol car purrs to life. Flicking on the radio, I let some country music seep through the vehicle. It's not much, but it's a comforting soundtrack for my journey to hell.
I spend the rest of the morning and afternoon breaking up a fight between two elderly ladies who can't decide what book to read for the next book club, corralling Earl Martin's favorite horse when it escapes his pasture, and patrolling the road in front of Harvey's house a few times.
As the time for the kids to get out of school approaches, I decide to do another quick pass by Harvey's. I approach the Falls, and the paved roads give way to a gravel path. I drive to the end and slow down at Harvey's farmhouse. Glancing out the window, I find him stapling handmade signs warning against speeding vehicles.
Just as I park on the side of the road, Harvey ambles over to my vehicle. I step out, feeling the crisp morning air and the faint smell of cow… er aroma, lingering in the atmosphere.
"Afternoon, Harvey," I call out, plastering on my most friendly smile.
"Deputy Gannon," he replies, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "Those little jerks scared my cows this morning. Bessie and Alma nearly had strokes from all the noise. They took off running like the hounds of hell were on their tails. I bet their milk supply will be down for God knows how long from all that stress."
"Dillon mentioned you've been having issues. Do you have any idea who it might be?"
"Same group in their fancy, loud, foreign-made cars." That fucking describes every goddamn spoiled little shit in this town of primarily millionaires.
I promise Harvey that I'll keep a watchful eye on his cows, making sure they remain undisturbed by the teenagers. He offers me a glass of lemonade, but I politely decline, stating I need to get back to my patrol duties. Pulling away from his farmhouse, I wave goodbye, hoping the rest of my extra shift will get a little easier.
Settling back into my duties, I refocus on my anger over having to pick up this extra shift. I'm almost starting to enjoy the relaxed pace when, out of nowhere, an explosion of sound whizzes past me.
I look in the rearview mirror to see a flash of red tearing down the road in the opposite direction. I barely catch the tail end of it, but I see enough to know it's a little red sports car.
Hitting the brakes, I perform a quick U-turn, hoping this is one of the little shits who's been tormenting Harvey's cows. As I gain ground, I flick on the lights and sirens, and the car slows.
The little red sports car pulls over to the side of the road, and my gut churns for some unknown reason. I slam the cruiser into Park, letting the engine hum in the quiet winter air. As I step out, the chill bites at my cheeks. Fucking winters in Texas can be either warm and pleasant or cold and bitter. Unfortunately, this year has been the latter so far.
I stride over to the driver’s side window, mentally prepping for whatever drama I'm about to uncover. But then surprise knocks the goddamn breath out of me. The woman behind the wheel is fucking stunning—long, curly blonde hair that flows like golden waves, and her aqua blue eyes shine with boldness, daring me to challenge her. This curvy little lawbreaker snags my attention, and I don't see her ever letting go.
I've lived in Silver Spoon Falls my whole damn life and never laid eyes on her before. She must be new in town or just passing through. The thought of her leaving without a chance for me to get to know her hits way fucking harder than it should. I've never met her, but something inside me twists at the idea of her disappearing from this sleepy little town.
"Afternoon," I finally muster, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "I'm Deputy Ashton Gannon. Do you know why I pulled you over?"
She raises an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto her lips. "No, but I'm sure you'll tell me?” Challenge colors her voice, and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't send a thrill down my spine. Fucking hell. I can't believe this is happening to me. I thought I was immune to the Silver Spoon Falls water since I've lived here my entire life, but the universe decided to prove me wrong.
According to local legend, the town’s water is responsible for the unusual number of love-at-first-sight matches. Up until a few minutes ago, I thought it was total bullshit, but one look at this sassy little doll convinced me I was wrong.
I grip the top edge of her window, trying to look authoritative, but all I can focus on is her sharp, confident, and utterly captivating eyes. "You were going seventeen miles over the speed limit."
Her reaction is immediate, an incredulous sputter spilling from her lips. "Seventeen? Seriously? What is the freaking speed limit?"
I raise my eyebrows, fighting the smile that’s teasing my lips. "It's forty-five, and last time I checked, there was a sign just a few miles back clearly stating it."
"Oh, come on!" she shoots back. "The last sign I saw said fifty-five. I can't be blamed for speeding if I didn't see the change, right?"
"Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean it wasn't there," I reply, continuing to bite my lip to keep from smiling at the outraged look on her gorgeous heart-shaped face. "I need your license and insurance card."
"Freaking hell," she says, leaning over to dig around in her glove compartment.
After a moment, she hands over the cards, and our fingers brush in the exchange. My cock turns rock-hard as my breath halts in my chest. Sweat rolls down my back, and it wasn’t caused by the chilly, winter weather.
"Emily Smith," I say aloud, letting it roll off my tongue while I scan the details. She has a fucking Houston address. "Emily, are you new to town or just passing through?"
"Is that relevant to this traffic stop?" I can already see the woman will keep me on my toes. And her sassiness turns me on way the fuck more than acquiescence would. This day just became the best fucking day ever.