Cop-Off (Love Burns #2)

SNEAK PEEK AT BOOK THREE IN THE LOVE BURNS SERIES

Baked

Striding down the terracotta cobbles like a man on a mission, Hunter knew what most people saw as they crossed the street to avoid him. But just because he looked like the Hulk, it didn’t mean he also had the whole wrath thing going on too. Although, if he was ever going to suddenly develop anger issues, this week would have done it.

He was pissed as hell. Nine months he’d stayed away. Kept his distance. Damn well tortured himself. And all for nothing. Because now? Now he didn’t have a choice. There would be no staying away anymore. Not while Rachel was in danger. It changed everything.

What kind of man would he be if he let something happen to her just because he couldn’t get over himself?

A shit one.

Exactly. He was fine being many things. A man of few words. A man most people had to stretch their necks to see fully. He was even fine being a man that tipped the loneliness scale a bit too enthusiastically. But he drew the line at being a shit one.

That being said, he knew what going to her meant. He wasn’t dense. There had been a reason he’d stayed away. A good one. And now he was willingly throwing himself into the fire.

It meant he was done running. Done fighting his feelings. It was time to claim his honeybun. It was time to claim Rachel. And that’s exactly what he was on his way to do.

Stopping outside the pastel pink storefront, his eyes went to the even pinker neon sign that hung above the window display. The name Fairy Baked was flashing above a line of pretty cupcakes that had been sprinkled with assorted candy.

You’ve got this. Just go inside and calmly explain that starting from today, she is not to go anywhere without an escort.

Easy.

Blowing out a deep breath, he pushed through the glass door, vanilla hitting his tongue as soon as the shop bell rang. Mouth-watering.

Speaking of mouth-watering, Rachel’s head poked up from beneath the counter, those blue eyes going wide at the sight of him.

“Uh, Hunter, what are you doing here? I mean, um ...” She scrambled up from the floor, giving him a better view. Even under her cotton candy apron, he could tell how tight that tank top was. And he definitely already knew how perfect her ass looked in those jeans. “Did you want your usual?”

His usual was two dozen doughnuts for the guys at the fire station. He hadn’t always been so generous though. No. Not until nine months ago, when he’d laid eyes on the real-life fairy that owned the local bakery. He’d decided then and there that a diabetic coma was worth the risk. It was why he allowed himself one visit a week to Fairy Baked, to get his fix.

“No, honeybun, I’m not here for doughnuts today.” It only took one of his big steps to take him all the way over to the counter. Not breaking eye contact, he stifled a groan as her sugary sweet scent hit the back of his throat.

Don’t fucking sniff her, man.

He was trying not to. He really was. But his body responded to absolutely everything about this woman. She was a goddamn pint-sized enchantress, casting her fairy magic over his body and flipping switches in his brain he didn’t even know were there.

“Uh, I don’t suppose you’re here for a cupcake?” Her voice was shaky. A bleak reminder of why he was there.

“No, baby.” He made sure to keep his voice gentle. “We need to talk about what happened.”

Her cherry-red ponytail whipped around as she gave him her back, pretending to busy herself by reorganising the neatly stacked pile of pink cake boxes. He was right. Her ass did look fucking perfect in those jeans.

Control yourself, man. Keep your head in the game.