2. Quinn
Chapter 2
Quinn
The morning sunlight pierces through the blinds of my office, casting stripes across the scuffed wooden floor that’s seen better days. I push away from my desk, which resembles a fortress of paperwork and cold coffee cups. I rise to my feet with all the enthusiasm of a man who’s read one too many heartbreaking case files before noon. Which is to say, not much enthusiasm at all.
I check my phone. Almost 11 AM. “Time for the daily pilgrimage,” I mutter to myself, grabbing my sheriff’s hat from the rack. The leather strap feels cool against my palm, a familiar weight as it settles onto my head.
Sunrise Bay isn’t large by any measure, but as its elected sheriff, I’ve made it my mission to keep it safe. It’s a quiet town, usually. The kind of place where everyone knows your business before you do. It suits me, or at least it used to.
With each step along Main Street, my steel-toed boots thud in rhythm on the sidewalk, a sound as regular here as the church bells on Sunday. Folks give me nods and “good mornings,” which I return out of habit more than genuine cheer.
“Morning, Sheriff Jordan,” calls old Mrs. Henderson from her porch swing, floral dress fluttering in the breeze.
“Ma’am,” I reply, tipping my hat. Politeness is part of the job, even when cynicism has stained my view like coffee on a white shirt.
I push open the door to the Beachside Café, the local go-to place for breakfast that serves up the best damn java this side of the state line. The bell above the door jingles, announcing my presence, and I inhale deeply. The rich scent of ground beans is the closest thing to heaven I find these days.
“Usual, Quinn?” Sally, the owner, asks.
Like most people in this town, her smile never seems to falter. Must be something in the sea air that works its magic on them, and I’m the exception.
“Please.” I lean against the counter, arms crossed, glancing at the ocean view out the back of the cafe, which opens onto the boardwalk.
Something about the normality of this routine steadies me, even if it’s only for the time it takes to drink a cup of coffee. Today, I’m picking up breakfast for the morning crew, another routine as ingrained as the sand that gets into everything around here.
Sally hands me a cup of coffee before she busies herself with preparing the order that’s never called in anymore because it doesn’t need to be—it’s always the same. I take a sip of the coffee made just the way I like it.
The door behind me jingles again. I don’t bother looking up until a flurry of movement catches my peripheral vision, followed by a searing wet heat splashing across my chest as someone stumbles into me.
“Shoot! Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” A voice, bright and flustered, breaks through the usual murmur of the coffee shop.
My eyes snap to the source, a woman, probably fresh from college, with a cascade of hair that shimmers like honey in the morning light and a body that would bring a grown man to his knees. Her white linen shirt clings to her large breasts, and her stretchy black leggings mold to her wide hips and chunky thighs. She’s deliciously plump with extra inches a man could dig his fingers into as he fucks her hard with zero fear of breaking her.
My cock twitches behind my zipper, and I clear my throat at the unexpected direction of my thoughts. Been a long damn time since a woman has affected me this way. Hell, I’m not sure it’s ever happened in my limited experience.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, looking mortified as she grips an armful of papers and files.
“Don’t worry about it,” I grumble, though the sticky liquid is already soaking into my uniform, setting a day’s worth of grime into the fabric.
“I’m so clumsy sometimes. Here, let me help,” she babbles, reaching out with napkins that stand no chance against the dark stain spreading across the tan material of my shirt. “Let me try to?—”
“Really, it’s fine.” My voice comes out sharper than I intended.
She retreats a step, cheeks flushed.
I frown. “New in town?”
I know every face in Sunrise Bay, and I would remember hers because, well, she's striking. Light brown eyes, full lips, a small nose, and a softly rounded chin all set in a heart-shaped face. She has a fresh-faced beauty that washes over me like the ocean breeze, invigorating my senses and filling my mind with endless possibilities. Her face is unfamiliar, yet I feel as if I’ve seen her before, like a part of me knows her from a different life and has been waiting for her.
What the fuck? I shake my head to clear the spell she’s woven effortlessly around me.
“Um, no, I’ve been here for a few months. I’m Lottie. I work at the social services office with Elizabeth. I would shake your hand, but they're a little full right now,” she says, tipping her chin toward the armful of files.
A breeze blows through the cafe, and a stray lock of hair floats in front of her face. She goes cross-eyed and attempts to blow it out of the way without success.
Fuck, she's cute.
I reach out instinctively to tuck it behind her ear, and her breath catches as my fingers graze her smooth cheek. I tell myself it’s static that makes the contact linger longer than necessary. Jesus, her skin is soft. Is she that soft all over? Suddenly, it's all I can think about.
“Social worker, huh?” I say more to myself than her.
I know Jan’s been asking the county for help with her workload for months, but this is the first time I've met her new staff member. The town could use someone with a fresh perspective, especially someone dedicated to protecting kids.
Sally slides a new coffee and my order across the counter with apologetic eyes. “On the house today, Sheriff.”
“Thanks.” I nod, taking a sip. Perfect, as always. But the taste is secondary to my unexpected encounter with what can only be described as a ray of sunshine in human form. I find myself stealing another glance at Lottie, wanting to bask in her warmth.
“Oh, you’re the sheriff!” Lottie states as if she’s only now registering the uniform and badge. “Crap. Way to go making a good first impression, Lottie,” she mutters under her breath as if I'm not there. She shakes her head and crumples the soiled napkins in her hand before her eyes lift to mine. “Jan suggested I speak to you about the case that came in last night, but I can see this isn't a good time or place, especially since I've doused you in hot coffee. Again, I’m sorry about that,” she finally finishes, snapping her mouth closed.
“Accidents happen. No real harm done,” I say, softer this time. I want to tell her not to worry, that it’ll wash out, but the words feel clunky on my tongue.
“Thanks, Sheriff...?” She pauses, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips.
My blood rushes south as I stare at those shiny lips for several long seconds before I remember she’s waiting for me to answer her.
“Jordan. Sheriff Jordan.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Jordan.” Lottie’s caramel eyes hold a trace of lingering embarrassment as she gifts me with a smile that makes my heart stutter and stirs something in me that’s been dormant for too long. A smile like that should be accompanied by a chorus of angels.
“Quinn is fine,” I correct.
Her smile grows a little, becomes more genuine, and damn if it doesn’t light up the cafe.
“Quinn,” she repeats, testing it out.
I like the way my name sounds on her lips too much.
I lean against the counter, casual-like, even though there’s nothing casual about the way my pulse is kicking up a fuss in my chest and my groin. “You mentioned needing my help on a case?” I remind her, my curiosity not entirely unprofessional. Stalling her might be a side effect, but part of my job is knowing what’s happening in my town.
Her forehead creases with concern, and a serious expression replaces her smile. I miss it already. “A tough one, actually. It involves a child, a little boy. My boss received a call from the hospital. Apparently, you were involved in removing him from his parents?”
Recognition hits me like a gut punch. Aiden. The little boy we had to take from the hospital last night. I spoke to Jan about the case the night before.
“Yeah, I know the case.” My words are heavy, laced with the weight of a responsibility that never leaves my shoulders. “My office took the call.”
“Then you understand why I need to hurry,” Lottie says, a determination in her eyes that tells me she’s in this job for all the right reasons. She bites her lip and glances around her. “I don’t discuss my clients with just anyone, you know? Well, I guess I can with you, but, um, this isn’t the place to talk about it.”
She’s right. This isn’t the place to talk about her cases at all. Lottie is relatively new in town, although “new” around here means not from Sunrise Bay, which translates into “fodder for gossip.” I can already hear the old timers speculating over their checkerboards. Although, I don’t hear any murmuring behind me, so that probably means they’re watching every move we make.
I nod, appreciating her professionalism and confidentiality. “Of course. I’m snowed under today, but how about I swing by your office tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. And it will give me a chance to visit Aiden.” She smiles again, and I fight the urge to grin like some lovestruck idiot on the receiving end of his first smile from a woman.
“Take care, Lottie.” I watch her push open the door, stepping into the crisp morning light, leaving me with the echo of that smile and a warmth that no amount of spilled coffee can dampen.
“Lottie,” I call after her.
She stops and turns, a question in her gaze.
“I’m a bit late, but welcome to Sunrise Bay.”
Lottie blushes. “Thank you.”
She exits, leaving me with a stained uniform, an inappropriate boner, and an unexpected flicker of warmth in a chest I thought had turned to stone long ago.
“Quinn Jordan, you old dog,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head as I head back to the counter to finally grab the bag of food and coffee in a tray.
“Something different about you today, Sheriff?” Sally teases from behind the register.
“Nothing a fresh cup of coffee won’t fix,” I bluff, but we both know I’m lying. Something has shifted, and as much as I want to deny it, Lottie’s crash introduction this morning feels like the first ray of sunlight piercing an endless overcast sky.
With a renewed sense of... something, I step out of the cafe, ready to face whatever Sunrise Bay throws my way today.