Chapter 2
Weston – a police officer who’s always happy to come to the rescue of a pretty tourist
Weston
M y radio squeaks. “Weston?”
“What do you have for me?”
Please, have something for me. Today has been boring as shit. Instead of spending the day laughing my ass off at people trying to win the Mermaid Treasure Hunt while drunk on moonshine, I’ve sat in my patrol car most of the day.
Because of the snow, the treasure hunt was cancelled and the inhabitants of Smuggler’s Hideaway are hiding themselves away. All the stores were already closed for the treasure hunt but now the bars and restaurants have closed down as well.
I’m bored and ready for something to happen. I’d settle for rescuing a cat out of a tree at this point. And I’m allergic to cats.
“A tourist is stuck at Hermit Jeremy’s old place without power.”
I grin. “Is it a female tourist?”
“The Chief is going to make you work Christmas and New Year’s if you get any more booty calls while on duty.”
“It’s not my fault the ladies love me.”
“I’m serious, Officer Milton.”
I chuckle. “I hear you. On my way now.”
The roads have been sanded but they’re still slippery, so I’m cautious as I drive toward Pirate’s Perch. I don’t know what possessed a tourist to book an isolated log cabin for the Christmas holidays but I’m glad of the distraction. If the distraction ends with us sweaty between the sheets, even better.
What is usually a quick ten-minute trip takes me more than half an hour. I frown when I park in the driveway of the cabin. No lights are coming from inside. Maybe this isn’t a booty call after all.
At least I’m not stuck sitting on some boring street corner watching the snow fall while twiddling my thumbs.
I pound on the door. “Police! Are you okay, ma’am?”
Something crashes to the floor before the door opens and I’m blinded by a flashlight. I hold my hand up in front of my eyes. “Can you dim the light, ma’am?”
“Oops. Sorry. I tried to walk over to the door without the flashlight but then I ran into the table. Something fell. I hope it didn’t break. I’m renting this place. I don’t want to lose my deposit.”
“The light?”
She switches the flashlight from her phone off and I can finally see her. And what a sight she is to see. Her dark brown hair is in a knot on top of her head and she’s wearing a pair of glasses over a pert nose. Her lips are pink and pouty. And when she smiles, she reveals a dimple on each cheek.
She could fulfill all of my sexy librarian fantasies. And, trust me, I have quite the imagination.
“Do you need any assistance?”
She freezes. “Weston?”
“Do I know you?” I rake my gaze over her snug sweater and jeans. She fits my naughty librarian fantasy to a tee. “I usually remember pretty women.”
She rolls her eyes. “Do you try to pick up all the women who you’re supposed to be helping?”
“No. Just the pretty ones.” I wink.
She shakes her head. “You never used to think I was a pretty one.”
“You have me at a disadvantage, darling. You seem to know who I am, but I must have temporary amnesia since I can’t remember you.”
“Darling?” She snorts. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “Why change perfection?”
“You can go now. I don’t need you and your smooth pick-up lines.”
“You’re the one who called the police,” I remind her.
“To ask if the whole island is without power. I didn’t ask them to send me a cop who’s one step up from a stripper.”
“Hey, now,” I growl. “I am a serious police officer.” When I need to be.
“Whatever. Thank you for stopping by. Goodbye.”
She tries to shut the door in my face but this isn’t my first rodeo. I stick my foot in the door jam.
“Do you need any help before I leave?”
She throws her arms in the air. “Now, he asks if I need help. He couldn’t be bothered to help me when I was getting bullied in high school. Nope. He laughed right along with my bullies. And now he’s a cop. Poor Smuggler’s Hideaway.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a good police officer.”
“And you didn’t hit me with lame pick-up lines when you arrived.”
I shrug. “I can be charming and do my job at the same time.”
“Consider your job finished, Office Weston. ” She spits out my name and I remember she mentioned high school.
“Did you go to high school on Smuggler’s Hideaway?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and it takes all my willpower to keep my gaze focused on her face. Any other woman, I’d drop my gaze to her chest. I love how women’s breasts are pushed together when they cross their arms.
“Yes, I did. We graduated together. And in a class of twenty people, you don’t remember me. Thanks for reminding me of why I got the hell off this island the first chance I got.”
I scratch my beard as I study her. There was only one girl with dark hair who wore glasses in my class. “Scar the nerdy bookworm?”
“Are you serious? You’re using the mean nickname kids used during high school? So much for being a good police officer.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “I’m surprised to see you is all. I thought you left the island.”
“Did you get hit too many times in the head by a surfboard? I told you I left the island the first chance I got.”
Wow. Someone does not like me. At all. Time to make an exit.
“Good seeing you again, Scarlett.” Pretty name for a pretty woman. Too bad she’s throwing daggers at me with her eyes.
“The pleasure was all yours.”
She tries to shut the door again but I stop her with my hand this time.
“Do you need help before I go? This house doesn’t have a generator and it’s awfully cold outside.”
She motions to the interior. “I have a fireplace. It would have been nice if the rental agency put some firewood in the house, but I’ve got this.”
“There’s firewood stacked up on the side of the house. Do you want me to gather some and help you get a fire going before I leave?”
“Thank you, but no. I’m perfectly capable of starting a fire on my own.”
I know when I’m not wanted. “Have a nice visit to the island.”
I wait until she shuts the door behind me before walking back to my patrol vehicle. Little Scarlett Harris. She grew up to be mighty fine. Too bad she’s got a mouth on her. I prefer my women quiet unless they’re screaming out my name in ecstasy.
I get in my patrol vehicle and reverse out of the driveway. Time to get the hell out of here.
The rear wheels slip to the right and I correct by pulling the steering wheel to the right. The slip becomes a slide and I pump the brakes. But it’s too late. The patrol car careens off the driveway into a ditch.
Son of a bitch.