Chapter 1 #2
Gansett’s waterfront downtown included the requisite New England white-steeple church, a large park next door to the redbrick town hall, and the combined police and fire station.
Tiffany’s shop was located down the hill from the police station, which she passed daily, hoping to catch a fleeting glimpse of the sexy police chief.
But she hadn’t laid eyes on him since that night on Luke and Syd’s deck.
His elusiveness had led her to wonder—more than once—if he was intentionally avoiding her because he’d changed his mind about being interested in her.
She could still remember the gravelly tenor of his voice when he’d grabbed her by the waistband of her jeans and pulled her close to him on the dark deck.
A shiver went through her when she thought about what he’d said.
“The minute you’re free of him, the very same second it’s final, you’re going to call me. ”
Before that, she never would’ve thought a dominant man would turn her on. Now, she knew otherwise. But since he’d made himself scarce ever since, she was left to wonder if he still felt the same way.
She pushed that unpleasant thought to the back of her mind, and the last half mile of the ride to work passed in a blur of plans and exhilaration and eagerness.
As she pulled into the parking space she’d decided would belong to her as the owner and proprietor of Naughty & Nice, she hoped the women in town would be curious enough to come check out the latest thing.
Rounding the corner to unlock the front door, Tiffany came to a dead stop.
“Oh, my God. No.”
Multicolored paint, as if shot from a paintball gun, was splattered all over the white brick front wall of her store, on the window and splattering her beautiful new sign—the sign she’d paid a thousand dollars to have hand-carved.
Viewing the damage, white-hot rage overwhelmed her. Who could’ve done such a thing?
A gasp from behind her had Tiffany spinning around to find Patty holding a dozen red balloons and covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no. No, no, no!” Patty’s eyes were shiny with tears. “I’m so sorry, Tiffany.”
“So am I.”
Tiffany gritted her teeth to keep from shrieking and jammed the key in the lock to open the door.
Marching to the storage room in the back of the store, she found an unopened can of white paint and a new roller.
She glanced down at her expensive silk blouse and skirt.
Since she was unwilling to ruin her gorgeous new outfit, she rummaged around, looking for the gym bag she thought she’d left there the week before.
“Damn it,” she muttered when she couldn’t find the bag or anything else to change into.
Moving to the front of the store, she checked the wall clock.
Two hours until opening. Right when she had decided it was worth it to ruin her good clothes to repair the damage, her eyes landed on a saucy French maid costume on one of the racks.
Glancing to her scarred window and then back to the outfit, she knew exactly what she had to do.
“They want to screw with me? Well, two can play at that game.”
“Boss?” Patty said warily. “Are you all right?”
“I’m just fine.” Tiffany grabbed the outfit off the rack and headed for the changing room. “Start getting the wine and cheese ready.”
Patty watched her with wide, doe-like eyes caught in headlights. “We’re still going to open?”
“You bet your booty we are.”
Across the street in the grocery store parking lot, Blaine watched from an unmarked police vehicle.
“What are we doing here, Chief?” Patrolman Trainee Wyatt Abrams asked. “The place was hit by vandals. Shouldn’t we take a report?”
“Hang on. I want to see what she does about it.”
Blaine tilted a neck gone tight with tension.
When he first saw what some idiot had done to Tiffany’s store, he’d ached with dismay, and he’d had to resist the urge to fix it before she saw it.
That was what the old Blaine would’ve done.
The new-and-improved Blaine kept his distance from “projects” and didn’t get involved.
From a police standpoint, there wasn’t much he could do besides assign additional patrols in the area, which he’d done the minute he first saw the damage.
As he watched Tiffany drive up, seeing the spring in her step and then the devastated curve of her shoulders, Blaine’s heart had broken for her.
Then he saw her get mad, and he was proud.
Now he waited anxiously to see what she planned to do about it.
Ten more tense minutes passed before the door swung open.
A paint can and roller preceded Tiffany out the door.
“Oh. My. God,” Wyatt whispered. “What does she have on?”
Blaine couldn’t speak as he stared at Tiffany in a black lace bustier with fishnet stockings, stiletto heels and a bow tie around her neck.
Her dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and the lithe dancer’s body he remembered in vivid detail after the night he’d seen her naked was on full display.
The skimpy outfit reminded him that she was made up of miles of creamy white skin and long, muscular legs.
His erection pressed against his fly, letting him know it approved.
“She’s not really going to paint in that getup, is she?” Wyatt asked, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth.
As she bent over to open the paint can, Wyatt got his answer.
Blaine saw red. What the hell was she thinking, parading around like that? This wasn’t that kind of town, and he could only imagine what the mayor and town council would have to say about it.
As he was reaching for the door handle to go have a word with her, the squeal of tires and the crunch of metal connecting with metal snapped Blaine out of the stupor he’d slipped into.
“Holy shit!” Wyatt said, his voice high-pitched. “She caused a freaking accident!”
Blaine reached for his jacket in the backseat and threw open the door. “Go take statements at the accident,” he said. “Call the paramedics if there’re injuries and get some backup over here to handle traffic.”
“I could take care of her if you want to handle the accident,” Wyatt said with a cheeky grin as they ran from the car to the scene.
Blaine shot the patrolman a glower that succeeded in shutting him up.
He noticed Tiffany was watching the two drivers shriek at each other with a horrified expression on her face.
She’d been so happy when she first arrived at the store, and now it was all going to crap.
Well, project or not, he couldn’t let that happen.
He and Wyatt reached the street and went their separate ways. Blaine darted through cars brought to a stop by the accident and approached Tiffany, who seemed frozen with shock. Wrapping his jacket around her shoulders, he tried to ease her toward the shop door.
All at once, she snapped out of it and pushed him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking you inside.”
She shook him off, which caused her barely covered breasts to shake, too.