Chapter 2
I pulled up to a call outside Miller’s Hardware for a one-car accident into an electrical pole.
The splintered pole lay on the ground with dead wires splayed across the grass.
It must have knocked the power out in the hardware store, or maybe things were just slow for a Tuesday, because Old Man Miller and his boys were sitting in the rocking chairs on the front porch, watching the world go by.
I gave them a wave and a tip of my hat as I carried my to-go bag and cup of coffee over to where the other cops on duty were all posted up, leaning on the hood of a squad car. Each of them had paper cups in their hands, with the logo from the gas station on them.
“Brooks,” Officer Shaw waved his cup at me, “Tell me you’ve got enough of whatever is in that bag for all of us. It smells delicious.”
There wasn’t much else for us to do until the power company showed up to replace the pole. Luckily for us, crime was low in Cedar Bluff, and we all could enjoy a brief break.
I held up the bag from Honey she belonged to it.
Maybe she was ready to find someone to share it all with after all.
And if I wasn’t careful, it wouldn’t be me. Because they were right, half the town wanted her. The other half wanted to be her.
Price elbowed me with a good-hearted grin, “Hey, don’t look so serious. We’re just saying you’ve got competition. Don’t let us show up one morning and see her baking muffins for someone else.”
The guys roared again as I shook my head, eating the rest of my sandwich as the thought lingered.
Goldie. With someone else.
I didn’t like it. Not one damn bit.
I walked away from the group and started doing the paperwork I’d been putting off all morning on the hood of my car as the tow truck worked on pulling the car away.
I made it five lines down on my arrest report when the hum of a loud diesel engine echoed around the corner behind me. A collective groan sounded from the guys, and I glanced over my shoulder as the firetruck from Station Eighty-Eight rolled to a stop behind my car.
“Who called the nozzle nuts?” I asked the guys as the fire crew started getting out of the truck.
“No one,” Price droned on unimpressed, “They’re probably on their way back from getting their nails done and are just being nosey.”
The sun gleamed off the red paint of the fire engine as one guy from the department yelled, “Careful, LEO’s, don’t strain yourselves with all of that paperwork. You might pull a muscle.”
My friends booed, and I smirked at one of the guys I graduated high school with, who was now with the fire department and nodded to him as he walked up to me. “What’s up, Thomas? Did you finish your grocery shopping early and decide to stop over to kill time before your group shower?”
He smirked and shook my hand, always up for some friendly ball-busting. “How are you doing, Brooks?”
“Good,” I nodded at my paperwork. “Living the dream.”
He snorted, leaning back on my squad car. “We just rescued a cat from a tree at the nursing home,” He chuckled, “I know what you mean.”
We fell into a comfortable silence as the others kept ribbing each other, killing time with our normal, familiar bullshit. It was all good and natural until she stepped out of the cab.
Rhea Dalton.
She moved to Cedar Bluff about five years ago, but I didn’t know much about her. Though I’d seen her around. It was hard not to.
Rhea had long, dark hair that looked like silk, pulled back into a long braid down her back, with dark features that were striking enough to make half the town stumble over themselves.
She had ink covering one of her arms, swirling up her bicep and disappearing under the cuff of her uniform shirt.
I watched her, unable to tear my eyes away as she nudged one of the cops harassing her, patting his beer belly in jest.
There was something about her, about the way she carried herself, that always baffled me.
She acted as if she didn't notice anyone else in the world or at least pretended that she didn’t care about anyone else.
Her confidence had a swagger to it that most men tried to perfect, but she hit the mark every time.
Her faint smirk never seemed to fall completely, highlighting a dimple in her cheek, and it always made me feel like she knew exactly how to push someone’s buttons.
Maybe that was why I avoided her like the plague whenever I could.
Supposedly, she was a lesbian, and I was guessing she had enough in your face big-dick energy for both of us.
I tried to focus on my paperwork as Thomas hung out until the hair on my neck stood on end.
The boisterous cackling from across the street seemed to die down, and I glanced up just as Rhea spotted me, and that cocky smirk on her face deepened.
Damn.
My balls were going to hurt after this.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Officer Golden Boy.” Her voice was smooth and teasing, and loud enough that everyone on the scene could hear.
Her guys laughed as mine watched on with amusement.
She always gave me a hard time, and I never returned it because I didn’t know how to pick on a chick.
My mother raised me better than that.
And for some reason, Rhea fed off that.
I arched a brow at her, taking my time to finish a bite of the sandwich in my hand. “Dalton. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy this morning I must have missed the smoke.” I turned around in a circle, as if I were looking for something, “Wait a minute, there is none. Weird.”
Her crew hooted at that, but Rhea didn’t flinch. She walked across the street and leaned her elbows down on my hood, bent over to stare at me with that weirdly dominant gaze of hers.
“I hear you’re the man to watch on the ice,” She cocked her head to the side. “But I think the boys in blue are going to lose this year.”
She was talking about the charity hockey tournament we played every year against the fire department. This year's Cuffs & Hoses Tournament was next month, and the chatter was that this year was going to be the biggest year yet.
The police department had an impressive lineup, including me at forward. But I’d heard that the fire department was pretty stacked too.
“Is that so?” I asked, unimpressed, looking back down at my paperwork and taking a sip of my coffee.
Rhea grinned as if she knew a secret. “Would be a real shame if someone shut you down this year,” she said with a shrug.
The corner of my mouth tugged up in response, actually excited about the prospect of some real competition. “Are you planning to be that someone?” I raised my brows and leaned up to pretend to look over the hood of my car at her feet. “Might be hard to keep up with your short little legs.”
Thomas snickered, standing off my hood. “He’s got you there, Dalton.”
She clicked her tongue and stood up to her full height of five foot six, maybe. I towered over her at six foot three, but I also knew it took more than long legs to be fast on the ice. “Watch your back, Golden Boy. I’m going to be all over your net.”
My pulse kicked up, feeding off the challenge she presented.
I wasn’t used to fighting with women, but there was something about Rhea that made it more exciting than I expected.
Before I could fire back, her captain called out that they were clearing the scene.
Rhea winked as she turned back toward the truck.
When the crew drove away, Shaw sidled up next to me, grinning like a fool. “What was that about?”
“Competition,” I muttered, eyes still on the departing engine.
But the truth was, it didn’t feel like just a little competition.
It felt like a spark.