June 13, 2016
He’s been a cop too long not to recognize the signs of a woman running from her past.
She’s not who she says she is—and isn’t about to share her secrets.
Sexy-as-sin Police Chief Mike Flannery knows the new arrival to Hopewell Springs is trouble. She has a smoking-hot body and a quick wit…and he’ll be damned if that’s not a turn-on. But this former NYPD cop and small-town heartthrob has been burned before, and there’s no way he’ll let that happen again.
New York City Detective Cassie Yates is on the run. A six-month undercover sting in a sleazy bar seemed like a textbook arrest—but now there’s a hit out on her. Armed with fake ID, her K-9 companion, and a police-issued SUV, she flees to a quiet upstate town where she trades her badge and gun for a spatula, finally finding peace in the dream she tossed aside to follow her family into law enforcement.
There’s no denying the fire and ice between them. But as the hired assassin closes in, Mike’s past comes roaring back and secrets are revealed in an explosion destined to tear them apart—if not destroy them.
Beneath one of the ledges where various pots, pans, and plates were stacked, a shapely blue jean-clad ass wiggled into view. Mike’s lips twitched upward. It was one ass he didn’t recognize, and it was his job to know everyone in town. He cocked his head to ass-ess the situation from another angle.
Definitely don’t know her. I’d remember an ass that great.
The body attached to the spectacular backside puttered beneath the counter, clearly searching for something and not finding it. Metal smacked against metal again, making Mike grimace. The woman made more noise with stainless steel than a brass band. She rose and bumped her head on the ledge. A stream of muted curses spewed out of her mouth as she clapped her palm on top of her head and angled toward him.
The woman from last week.
The first woman who’d got his blood pumping in a very long time, and it had been far too long since he’d been with a woman who could actually do that. Particularly since he’d made himself a personal vow years ago not to get too involved. He sure as hell didn’t need to go through that again. It had just about killed him. Literally.
Mike continued to watch her fume behind the counter. This woman had something about her, and it wasn’t just her looks. He’d been with lots of beautiful women, but he’d never had to reel his tongue back into his mouth before.
A bright red, sleeveless V-neck shirt hugged her sizeable breasts. His gaze slid to the white apron tied at her slim waist. About five-six and with the thickest, shiniest red hair he’d ever seen. Today, unlike last week, she had it tied back in a ponytail. Sunlight pouring in through the café’s windows glinted off her hair like flames. She turned fully toward him and began to smile. Then she froze, the smile vanishing. Her bright green eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
Did she remember him?
Their meeting had been brief, but he damn sure hadn’t forgotten those striking emerald eyes, that cleavage he’d gotten a good look at, and—hell—he hadn’t forgotten a single part of that hot, athletic body. He’d thought about her during his entire drive down to Albany but never expected to come back and find her working at the Nest.
Ah, shit. Don’t even think it. You don’t need the complication.
She lowered her gaze to his boots, then began a slow perusal up his legs to his chest. The expression on her face changed from one of shock to disappointment. By the time her eyes locked with his, her luscious lips frowned.
What, did I arrest her and forget? No way. Not possible I’d forget a woman that looked like her.
The bell over the Nest’s front door jangled. After a furtive glance at the door, she grabbed what looked like a brand-new menu, stomped toward him, and thrust it at his chest. “What can I get you?” Her face was now a mask of cool indifference.
Mike furrowed his brows. “Great to see you again, too.” He accepted the menu and sat on the stool at the end of the counter. “We met last week. Or don’t you remember?”
Green eyes held his, and he took the moment to admire her clear, sun-kissed complexion. He got a strong whiff of the same scent she’d worn last week. Some kind of flower.
“I remember.” She picked up an order pad and a pen. Her tone was laced with a touch of irritation. “I didn’t expect to see you again. In uniform.”
Ah. There it is. A cop-hater.
Tee O'Fallon has been a federal agent for twenty-two years, giving her hands-on experience in the field of law enforcement that she combines with her love of romantic suspense. Tee's job affords her the unique opportunity to work with the heroic and sexy men in law enforcement on a daily basis. For Tee, research is the easy part!