Shock and silence had greeted her announcement of enrollment in the academy. Both her parents and older brother were accountants, but it wasn’t her fault they’d assumed she would take that path as well. Especially when all signs had pointed to the contrary.
She’d been a tomboy growing up, spending most of her time playing sports with her brother and his friends. The mall had never been a place she’d hung out but rather the place she was forced to go once a year for back-to-school clothes shopping. Even in her teens, preening in front of a mirror for hours—putting on makeup and fussing with her hair—hadn’t been her thing. Simplicity and comfort had been her M.O. Ponytails or baseball caps to tame her wild hair, jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers had been her go-to uniform.
Their next clue should’ve been her fascination with police shows. She’d watched them all. Hell, she’d even had a “Law and Order” poster hanging on her bedroom wall for two years before her brother, Marc, accidentally ripped it with a football while throwing a long pass from down the hall.
And if her parents had missed all that, their biggest clue should’ve been when she’d graduated from college with a BS degree in criminal justice.
So thinking they could put all their worries at ease and solve all Katie’s problems in one fell swoop, her parents had joined the “All Single Women Need a Man to Complete Them” bandwagon. And they were relentless, even going so far as to invite a blind date for Katie to their last family dinner in the hopes she would fall instantly in love, get married, and have babies, effectively ending her career in law enforcement. Which, in turn, would make her parents very happy campers. So, in other words, family dinners with her parents had grown increasingly uncomfortable.
But she had a plan. If she could convince her parents she had a boyfriend, they would stop meddling. Not the most original idea in the world, but she’d seen it work enough times in various movies and TV shows that she thought it was worth a try. And Katie had the perfect man in mind for her plan.
Her partner, Officer Ethan Pierce.
Tall, dark, and handsome, he oozed authority and sex appeal. And made her damn heart flutter every time her eyes locked on him.
Which brought her back to the pouring her heart out part of her conversation with Lucy. Babbling her plight and woes, she’d spewed her confession like a cop in need of a donut fix, finally admitting—at least to someone other than herself—after six long months as Ethan’s partner, she was in love with him.
And it wasn’t a hero worship kind of love. The kind a rookie would feel toward an older, more seasoned officer they admired. Although, she did feel that.
Or an in lust kind of love. The ripping clothes off, body licking, pound until the mattress breaks, kind of love. Although, she did want that.
And it wasn’t a because he’s a great guy kind of love. The kind that develops over time, discovering what a dedicated, honest, dependable, charming, and intelligent person they are. Although, she did think that.
No, it wasn’t any one of those things. It was all of them. A gradual building of feelings, one leading to the other, until one day the truth hit her like a jolt of lightning to the center of her forehead, and she discovered what true love felt like. Not a high school crush, or a college romance, but an adult, heart-aching, can’t-live-without-you kind of love.
Now, one would think she’d feel better after pouring her woes to one of her best friends, and she did to a point. It felt good to finally talk with someone and not have that same someone think all was hopeless. But Lucy was viewing Katie’s dilemma through rose-colored glasses. Newly in love, her friend’s advice had been to tell Ethan her feelings, but Katie knew that would never happen.
They were partners. They worked together closely, had each other’s backs literally, and she didn’t want to jeopardize their partnership or their friendship. She was scared if she shared her feelings and they weren’t reciprocated, the long hours they spent alone in the car together would turn into a study in awkwardness. She’d heard it plenty of times—enough to take heed—mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.
*
“Hey, Pierce.”
Ethan looked up from adjusting the straps on his vest when he heard his name shouted.
Dwayne sat a few feet away on the wooden bench shared by their row of lockers, tying his shoes. “Some of us guys are going out for a beer after shift. Wanna come?”
He worked the power-shift and would be off early enough to grab a beer and catch the second half of the game. But lately, socializing with the guys felt more like a chore. And forget any other forms of socializing. That had lost its appeal six months ago, the first time he’d laid eyes on his new partner.
Katie Sawyer, fresh out of the academy and assigned to him. Now, six months later, he didn’t know whether it had been a blessing or a curse. His heart would say blessing, his cock would say curse.
“Nah, man, got a thing tonight. Maybe next time,” Ethan said, pulling a fresh uniform shirt from his locker and slipping it on.
“Does this thing have blond hair, big tits, and a name that ends in I?”
For a second Ethan panicked, thinking Dwayne meant Katie and wondering how in the fuck he knew where his thoughts had been. But he quickly realized Dwayne was only generalizing about some random chick. Besides, while Katie’s name did end in a vowel, it was an E, not an I.
Tucking in his shirt and snapping on his utility belt, Ethan wondered—not for the first time—whether he should just take what he wanted and fuck the consequences. His dick, which was getting pretty fucking tired of his right hand, thought that was a great idea. Luckily, he hadn’t thought solely with his little brain since he was eighteen, and he wasn’t about to revert back to that mentality now. But he needed to tread carefully. He liked having Katie as his partner and didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up.
Ethan slammed his locker and looked over at Dwayne, giving him a smirk. “Now, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”
Dwayne snorted. “Ain’t that the damn truth. Your lips are sealed tighter than a nun’s legs.”
Ethan shook his head in exasperation. “Charming, as usual, Dwayne.”
Dwayne shot him a smile, totally unfazed by his own lewdness. “Hey, what can I say.” He stretched his arms out wide. “It’s why all the ladies love me. And unlike you, I’m willing to share my sage wisdom. My office door is always open if you ever need some friendly advice.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Casanova,” Ethan said over his shoulder as he strolled from the locker room.
Blueberry with an undertone of jasmine hit his nostrils as Ethan slid into the driver’s seat of the squad car. Katie was already in the passenger seat, fiddling with her phone. She looked as she always did—blondish-brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, flawless light-golden skin free of any enhancement, and plump, rosy lips pursed in thought—fucking beautiful.
She looked up when he slammed the door. Wearing a megawatt smile he knew she only gave to him, she held up a bag. “I brought muffins.”
His dick hardened at the sound of her voice, the gleam in her eye, and the slight blush on her cheeks. His eyes were momentarily distracted by the swell of her breasts, straining against the buttons of her uniform shirt, creating a tantalizing glimpse of pink lace peeping through the generous gap. His mind instantly started popping the buttons, revealing her creamy skin inch by inch, his fingers slowly tracing over the rounded globes, digging under the lacy material, exposing her to his…
Yanking his thoughts from what her tits would taste like, he speared her with a look, his anger spiking, making his words come out harsher than intended. “Where’s your vest?”
Her smile dimmed while her cheeks grew redder. “I took it home last night because the last few days something’s been poking me, and I wanted to look the whole thing over. See if I could figure out the problem.”
He waited for a beat. “And?”
“Well, I did figure it out, but I forgot it at home this morning since I’m not used to having it with me.” She smacked a fist against her thigh, her bright green eyes flashing. “I was so pissed at myself when I realized, but I didn’t have time to go back home and get it without being late.” She gave him a determined glare. “I refuse to ruin my perfect record.”
Ethan suppressed a smile. He knew Katie took her job seriously, sometimes a little too seriously. He thought it was fucking adorable.
She gave him a big smile and an exaggerated flutter of her lashes. Really laying on the charm. “I was hoping we could go get it.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Don’t plan on letting you go out in the field without one. We’ll swing by your place real quick so you can put it on.” Glad that was settled, he felt his anger fully dissipate as he gained control of the situation. Then starting the car, he radioed dispatch and tore out of the lot.
Katie conveniently lived about five minutes from the station in an older but well-kept apartment complex. She navigated him to her parking spot at the back of her building, which was currently empty as her car was back at the station. He scanned the surrounding area as he followed her to a set of stairs that led to her second-floor apartment, noting everything was clean with no hint of graffiti. He also scrutinized her locks as she inserted her key, pleased to see the two deadbolts but was a little disconcerted upon entry when he didn’t detect an alarm. Something he would have to see about fixing.
He scanned the living room. He’d known where she lived, he knew the area well, had even dropped her off once when her car had broken down, but he’d never been inside.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
He watched her retreat until she disappeared down a hall, his eyes drawn to her ass perfectly filling out her snug uniform pants.
Her apartment was small but homey with her personality stamped all over it. As he stepped farther in, he detected the faint scent of jasmine that seemed to follow Katie around. He made his way to the fireplace, drawn to the small clusters of photos that lined the mantle. He picked up a pewter framed picture—Katie in the center, her arms wrapped around an older couple he assumed were her parents. She wore a blue cap and gown along with a big smile.
He put the photo back, picking up another. She looked about fourteen, and Ethan couldn’t help but grin. She was adorable. Hair a mess, dirt smudged on her cheek, same beautiful smile only in this picture braces covered her teeth. The softball jersey she wore held even more dirt, and it was evident she’d just won a championship game as she struggled to hold a nearly her-size trophy over her head.
The rest of the pictures were full of Katie and who he assumed were her friends, sprinkled with a few of her and her brother, Marc, whom Ethan had met on a couple occasions.
One picture stood out from the rest. His eyes were caught and drawn to Katie in a red, low-cut formal dress that hugged all her curves, her long limbs—tanned and toned from hours of sports and sun—on full display. Her hair was piled in ringlets atop her head, and she wore a light dusting of makeup, making her green eyes pop and her full, red lips shimmer. Gone was the tomboy of previous pictures and in its place was a goddess.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, memorizing every detail of the picture. Long enough for Katie to sneak up on him, speaking from over his shoulder. “That was prom. I was upset because my date was late. I actually thought I was being stood up.”
So fascinated by her change in the photo, he failed to notice her lack of smile that was so evident in all the rest. The smile he had the pleasure of witnessing on a daily basis.
She laughed, the pleasant melody surrounded him, and he soaked it in. He loved her laugh. “He eventually showed up, an hour late, full of apologies. Seems he got a flat on the way over. It took another half hour for him to scrub the grease from his hands and face before we could leave. The prom was almost over by the time we arrived. He couldn’t stop apologizing, which, honestly, had started to get on my nerves as the night wore on.”
Ethan put the frame down and turned to look at her. She was so close, just a little tilt of his head and his lips could be on hers. He wondered what she would taste like—would almost kill to find out.
“My first official date and it was an epic fail. Fortunately, my next date went much better.” She laughed again. “Though, let’s face it, the bar was set pretty low.”
“You ready to go?” he asked curtly, taking a step toward the door, putting the brakes on any successful date stories. Past or not, the last thing he wanted was to hear about her and other guys.
His abruptness seemed to take her by surprise if her widened eyes and slightly parted lips were any indication. She gave him a slow nod. “Sure.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
Chapter Two
In the car an hour later, Katie chewed the cuticle on her thumb, contemplating whether it was a good time to ask Ethan if he would help her with the “Pull a Fast One On Her Parents” plan. Earlier in her apartment, she’d been almost sure he’d wanted to kiss her. But then his eyes had turned dark, his body had gone still, and his tone had turned brisk and stiff, indicating he’d been pissed about something. And now, he still seemed in a bit of a mood, giving her second thoughts about asking him for a favor.
They stopped at a red light, and she heard a sigh before his hand came into her field of vision, taking her by the wrist and dislodging her thumb from her mouth.
“Stop. You’re going to make yourself bleed, again. You know I hate when you chew on your fingers.”
She dared a glance in his direction. Eyes soft and body relaxed, he no longer seemed angry, yet still she hesitated.
Little lines appeared between his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a favor to ask, but I’m not sure if now’s a good time.”
“You can ask me anything, anytime.”
Forcing her resolve, she opened her mouth to speak, but the squawking of the radio interrupted her before she could get the first word out.
Katie gave the radio an exasperated look for its ill-timed interruption as it announced a drunk and disorderly call at Bobby’s Brew. “Starting our D&Ds early today. That doesn’t bode well for the evening shift.”
Ethan made his customary grunting noise, which she’d learned could mean anything from agreement to displeasure. It had taken her months to decipher the nuances of tone that differentiated the meaning of what she liked to call his caveman dialect. He whipped a u-ey when it was safe, turning them towards the pub while Katie responded to dispatch, letting them know they were en route with an ETA of three minutes.
Smack dab in the middle of the Mission District, Bobby’s Brew had been around for generations and was a well-known landmark. Parking, as always, was limited, but Ethan was able to double-park in a side alley two doors down from their destination. Looking like an old west saloon from the outside, walking into Bobby’s was always a bit of a culture shock as the owner, Robert Watts—not a direct descendent from the original Bobby—kept the place modern, often updating the decor to reflect current trends.
Although the December day was overcast, the pub’s interior was darker still, and it took a few moments for Katie’s eyes to adjust to the gloom. She scoped the room, noting three at the bar—A Hispanic and white male, both mid-to-late thirties and a white female, mid-twenties. A lone man sat slouched in a back booth, possibly passed out.
The owner stood behind the bar, polishing a glass and looking their direction. Ethan gave him a chin lift. “You the one who called this in?”
“Yes, sir. That guy over there,” he pointed with his rag in the general direction of the guy in the booth, “came in here ranting and yelling about something not being fair. I couldn’t really understand. He was slurring and staggering, so he’s either drunk or high. He t
ook a couple of swings at me, which I was able to avoid before he staggered to that booth,” he once again waved the rag he was holding, “ordered a fucking Cosmo like he’s on a girls night out, then promptly passed out. He hasn’t woken up since.” He set down the glass then threw the rag on the bar top as if disgusted.
“Have you seen this guy before?” Katie asked, glancing at the guy in question to make sure he was still passed out before turning her attention back to the bartender.
“Nope. Never seen him before.”
Then Ethan asked the bar at large, “Any of you guys around to witness this?” He was awarded negative responses from all three.
They each pulled on gloves as they made their way to the back booth. Katie could smell the liquor permeating off the guy from five feet away.
Ethan first checked the guy’s pulse before giving his shoulder a shake. “Hey, Rocky Balboa, wake up.”
The guy mumbled something incoherent before halfway prying open one blurry eye. “Whasst the fuck man?” he slurred.
“Time to stand up.” The guy struggled to stand, and Ethan pulled on his arm, helping him to his feet. Using his cuffs, Ethan secured the guy with his arms behind his back. Lightly patting the outside of the guy’s pockets with his free hand, Ethan asked, “Got anything that’s gonna poke or stick me?” At the guy’s negative response, he carefully proceeded in.
Katie reached for the guy’s wallet when Ethan tossed it on the table. Pulling out the ID, she unclipped her hand-held and radioed in his info. Tossing the wallet back on the table, she lined all the guy’s possessions in alphabetical order—a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a few crumpled bills, a wad of tissues.
Ethan reached out plucking up the tissue. She grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?”
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