Chapter 1
“License and registration, please.” Officer Robert Caldwell stood just behind the driver’s side window of the out-of-state bright red Mercedes he’d pulled over.
The blond woman behind the wheel glanced up at him, squinting from the bright sunlight. “Yes. Of course, Officer.”
You have got to be kidding me.
Rob almost swallowed his tongue to keep himself from saying that out loud. Never in his life would he have expected to run into the one and only Heather Winters. Stepping fully in front of her open window, he took the requested documents from her petite hand and somehow managed to not betray any bit of WTF running through him.
Rob cleared his throat. “The reason I pulled you over is due to that wide right turn you took back there.”
“Oh, I don’t think I realized I did that.” She frowned, looking a bit dismayed.
Well, that was fine. Rob was feeling pretty damn dismayed too. “Stay in your vehicle, please. I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Yes, sir.”
Absolutely gobsmacked, Rob walked backward—out of precautionary habit—away from her vehicle toward his patrol SUV. For fuck’s sake, Heather Winters? Seriously? Goddamn… Of all the people in the world, he never expected to run into her. Then again, why wouldn’t he?
As a cop, crossing paths with people from his past was always possible, considering this particular person grew up here. They both did, albeit not even close to where he’d pulled her over. But still.
Except, hadn’t she moved away?
Duh, based on her Maryland license plate, that was a big affirmative. Long time ago, if memory served. With his mind racing like a hamster on a wheel, Rob settled in the front seat of his patrol truck. His canine partner in the back, Tricks, was calm and quiet, staring out the side window at the passing traffic.
Heather—aka prom queen, high school “mean girl” clique president, captain of the cheerleading squad—Winters. Rob glanced at the Maryland driver’s license in his hand. Correction, Heather Stratton now.
She’d gotten married. No reason to think she wouldn’t have. Rob blew out a breath and stared at her picture. Of course, she looked fucking amazing in the photo. No one on God’s green earth ever looked amazing in their DL picture, but she was the exception to the rule.
Heather was the exception to a lot of rules.
Glancing at her registration, he noted the car was registered to Charles Stratton and Heather Stratton. Yep, definitely married. Letting out a sigh, Rob typed her information into the mounted laptop inside his cruiser.
Jesus, she likely didn’t even recognize him. He’d changed more than a little since his insecure, lanky, and pimply-faced high school days.
Rob had certainly grown up, and he definitely lived in a different world now. Then again, that should be the case for everyone fifteen years post–high school.
Rob glanced at the dog in the rearview mirror. “Tricks, you see that Mercedes I pulled over?”
The dog let out a little whine and shifted in the back.
“In that car is a woman that’s all heaven and hell mixed in one smoldering package.” He shook his head and stared at her picture. How was it possible that she’d gotten hotter? “Now I gotta go pretend I don’t think she’s gorgeous. Wish me luck.”
Tricks gave Rob a half yawn, half whine.
Rob rolled his eyes. “Lotta help you are. Stay here. I’ll be back.” Angling out of the truck, he approached her vehicle…this time with more caution.
Not because he was concerned she might try something aggressive or be difficult. It was himself he was worried about. Seeing her had him feeling like an awkward teenager again. Sweaty palms and all. But, really, screw that. This was not high school, and he was a grown man.
Pushing down the unwanted insecurity, Rob squared his shoulders and faced his greatest fantasy. “Here you go, Mrs. Stratton.”
“It’s just Ms. But thank you.” She took her ID and registration back.
Hmm, trouble in paradise? As he pulled his hand away, her fingers brushed his, and a bolt of heat filled Rob’s veins. His physical reaction wasn’t a surprise, but in an effort to keep his shit under wraps, he took a small step back.
She glanced over at him. “Sorry about the wide turn. Guess I wasn’t thinking.”
Rob drew in a deep breath and rested his right hand on the butt of his service weapon. Just as captivating as they’d always been, her light green eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She wore jeans and a plain, faded black T-shirt, definitely way more casual than her wardrobe had been fifteen-plus years ago.
From what he could see, she still had the same figure she carried in high school though—which was un-fucking-believably sexy. Fucking hell, this woman. Perfection knew no bounds with her, and as was typical, even after all these years, he was still attracted to her. It didn’t seem to matter that she wasn’t a nice person; it never had.
In high school, he’d crushed on her hard. Really hard. Just about every guy he knew did. She was one of those girls, the kind that was filled out in all the right places before the end of freshman year. She was the kind of girl who had an audacious air about her, one so sexy it caused him to wake up in the middle of the night, rock-hard dick in hand with Heather center stage in his brain.
Unfortunately, she was mean.
She was stuck-up.
She was a snob.
Simply put, Heather Winters was a bitch.
Rob had also despised her. Talk about a dichotomy of emotions. “No problem. I’m going to let you off on a warning, considering you’re not from here.” Unable to stop himself, he cracked a small smile.
She gave him a small smile back and— Jesus, what was he doing? Trying to stir up more conversation? Trying to flirt? Really? Because that’s professional and appropriate.
Why was she being so polite to him? Heather Winters was not polite. Ever. It sure as hell wasn’t because he was a cop, though maybe she dug the uniform? That thought sent another wave of arousal through him.
She raised her brows and tipped her head to the side. “Well, technically, I am from here. I just—”
Yeah, no. He needed to stop this now. “All right then. Enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am.” Rob gave her a curt nod.
No stirring. No conversation. No nada.
“Thanks. You too.”
More with the polite? Talk about a mind fuck. As he turned and walked away, he barely spared her a glance. Judging by the arousal pulsing through his system, he needed to get away from her immediately. Not unlike recoiling from a hot flame. Heather was hotter than any blaze he’d ever witnessed. She was pure five-alarm-fire temptation.
Sliding behind the wheel, he checked in with dispatch and closed the log on the laptop. He started his patrol truck and stared at the back of her car. Damn. Truth be told, if given the opportunity now, and she was single, he’d spank her ass until it shone bright pink for always being so sassy in school.
Instead of fucking her, he’d drag it out, make her wait while he teased and touched her body until she was mindless and begged him to have sex with her. With a scowl, Rob adjusted his stiff cock in his pants and then pulled out into traffic.
Heather Winters, or Stratton—whatever the hell her name was now—was a fantasy. She was married, hopefully happily. Living in another state and, judging by her E-Class Mercedes coupe, probably in a big-ass house. The fact that she looked really, really good still didn’t mean a damn thing.
She was part of his past, whether she knew it or not, and that’s exactly where she needed to stay.
* * * *
“How strange.” Heather Stratton looked through her rearview mirror at the police officer who’d pulled her over.
She’d never been let off with a warning in her life. Not that she made a habit of getting pulled over, but still. The few times she had been over the years, she’d always gotten a ticket.
Miracles never ceased…
With a shrug, Heather leaned over and slid the registration into the booklet in the glove box. After she straightened, she shoved her license back in her wallet. She really needed to trade in her Maryland license for an Arizona one. She should’ve transferred the registration for the car by now too.
If the officer had known she was a resident here, he likely would’ve given her a ticket. She’d nearly gone and told him, confessed everything, except he’d cut her off. Which was also strange.
Either way, both tasks were on her to-do list—which was getting rather long. Over the past year, she’d been meaning to take care of the registration, her license, and a great many other things. It was just…she hadn’t had the time.
Hadn’t made the time was more accurate, but no one was keeping score, so it didn’t matter.
Except it kind of did.
The revving engine of the officer’s patrol SUV yanked Heather from her self-deprecating, excuse-making reflection as he zoomed past her open window. She glanced at the vehicle and caught a glimpse of the large lettering on the back window: K9 UNIT.
Interesting and cool. Maybe that’s why he cut her off and walked away, so he could get back to the dog. Made sense. She’d never been pulled over by a K9 officer before, but she would’ve thought he’d have gotten the dog out too.
Although, she probably didn’t look like much of a threat. A Mercedes, even with out-of-state plates, plus blond hair didn’t exactly spell dangerous criminal.
Then again, maybe she did. Lots of people could be— Okay, stop. Shaking her head, Heather moved her purse back to the passenger seat, started the car, and navigated back into traffic. She had a list to get to.
With her divorce finally done, Heather had purchased a small house in the Southeast Valley. And thank God for that because staying at her parents’ home in Glendale any longer than she already had would be the death of her. Or maybe just make her crazier than she already was.
The endless look of pity in her mother’s eyes and the disappointment in her father’s could be enough to make anyone want to off themselves. Not that Heather had ever entertained that particular idea.
No, she was far too chickenshit for that route. Besides, wrapping herself up in a self-pity/self-loathing blanket, night after night, while watching reruns of anything remotely interesting on Netflix, was her regular routine…much more entertaining too.
At least she’d stopped drinking herself into oblivion in the bathtub. Progress, right?
Right.
Just another day in paradise, for sure. But not today. Today, she was shopping, while indulging in much smaller but still consistent doses of self-pity.
A few traffic lights later, Heather pulled into the shopping plaza parking lot and found a space. Home Goods was her aim for the day; after that, Target. With the exception of three suitcases full of clothes and some other precious mementos, when Heather left Baltimore she took nothing with her.
Saying she had a shit ton of things to buy was an understatement. Today she was starting with linens for the bathroom, sheets and blankets for the new bed she’d gotten at IKEA, and silverware. Maybe table linens. Oh, and pots and pans too. Not that she felt anything like cooking, but still.
After shutting off the engine, she checked her face in the mirror and then stepped out into the bright Arizona day. Five years ago, life was so very different than now. And in every way possible. Heather had her nursing career and was doing quite well. Charles was in the middle of his fellowship in cardiology.
They’d bought a beautiful home in a gorgeous and prestigious neighborhood…and they’d filled it with beautiful things. So many things. Too bad in the end, “things” meant nothing.
Heather sighed at the memory. Every room was precisely the way Charles wanted it. The man had great taste, and if he was happy, Heather was happy. But the one room they hadn’t decorated? The nursery.
Heather had been 100 percent ready to take that next step. She was so sure that having a baby would make everything perfect. More so than any fairytale ever written in the history of ever. After all, why would she have thought any differently?
Boy, was she wrong.
Swallowing down the deluge of memories, Heather dug into her purse, located her sunglasses, and walked toward the entrance of the store. Towels. Bedding sets. Silverware. Linens. Pots and pans. And finally…home to her small couch, and self-pity binge-watching could commence.
Chapter 2
Fuuuuck!
Rob stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted her. He’d just come out of the cereal aisle, about to head down canned goods. He tightened his loose grip into a stranglehold on the handle of the grocery cart.
Rob stood transfixed, watching as she turned into the frozen food section two aisles away from him. All of ten, maybe fifteen seconds she was in his sights, but it was long enough that he saw allll of her from head to toe….
On her petite, perfect body she wore light gray workout leggings and a black workout tank. Both fit her like a second skin, highlighting all her amazing curves. Black Nike runners on her small feet. Hair pulled up in a high ponytail. No makeup from what he could tell, but then again, he was two aisles away and a cop, not Superman.
What the hell was she doing in his Fry’s? Better yet, why was she still in town? It’d been two weeks since he’d pulled her over. Maybe things weren’t as perfect as he figured they would be for her and she was taking a break from her perfect life and perfect husband. She did correct him when he addressed her as Mrs… Though, she could be on vacation.
Not that he planned on asking her any of that. Or maybe he would. Hell, why not? Yeah, she looked really good and was superhot, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have game too. He needed to dial back this giddy-schoolboy-with-a-crush persona he was channeling and get back to the man he’d grown up to be. They weren’t in high school anymore, Toto.
With his head on straight, Rob plugged an AirPod into one ear, turned on his workout playlist, and continued on with his shopping. Focused on his music, he grabbed items he needed and put them in the cart.
Just as Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You” came on, Rob swung the to the right, heading to the next aisle to—
BAM!
Rob jerked his cart back. “Shit. I’m—”
“Oh my God! I’m so—”
“Sorry.” He sighed and couldn’t help but focus on her pretty face.
“No, no. It’s okay. Really.” Heather took a step back, taking her cart with her.
Rob shifted his as well. “You sure you’re good?”
She smiled and gestured down her front with a hand. “I think so, yes. Nothing broken. Not even the cart.”
Rob nodded and pulled his lips between his teeth. Fucking hell, she was cute.
“Well, take care.” She shrugged a shoulder and started to walk past him.
“Yeah, you too.” The need to say something more, to talk to her a little longer, hit him like a sledgehammer to the side of the head. He reached for her arm but stopped himself from touching her. “Hey, do you—”
“This is going to sound funny, but are you a police officer?”
She’d stopped just past him, an inquisitive and almost hesitant look on her face. Like she wasn’t sure if she should ask or not but went for it anyway.
He was glad she had. Rob smiled and jerked his chin up. “Yeah. I’m the one that pulled you over a couple weeks ago.”
“I thought that was you.” With a smile, she turned to face him, one hand resting on the cart handle. “I had to ask. And, wow, you have an incredible memory.”
“Part of the job.” Even if he hadn’t already known her, he would never have forgotten her. Every time he saw her, she took his breath away.
“I guess so.” She laughed, the sound of it hitting every nerve in Rob’s body.
He smiled. “Doesn’t say much for my cart-driving skills though.”
She dipped her chin and raised one brow. “It really wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Oh, I see. Should I issue you a ticket this time? Reckless carting?”
She laughed again. “Do you have jurisdiction in all the Fry’s or just this one?”
“Definitely all of them.”
“Guess I better be more careful.” She smiled, her eyes dancing with laughter. A beat passed between them before she shrugged and let out a breath. “Well, time to get my shopping done. Take care.”
“You too.” Knowing it was time to let her go, Rob smirked and dipped his hands in his front pockets.
She gave him another smile before turning away and moving on. He stood, watching her as she rounded to the corner to the next aisle. Funny, he hadn’t expected she would remember him from pulling her over. It wasn’t like he was in uniform, which meant it was possible he’d made an impression on her.
She still didn’t recognize him from high school, which was a good thing…right?
Chapter 3
From the back of the gym, where the treadmills, ellipticals, stationary, and recumbent bikes were positioned, Heather scanned the various people scattered about.
The good part about going to work out after midnight meant there weren’t many people in the gym. If she was right, she’d counted five so far, including two competitively built men who were taking turns bench-pressing what looked like far too much weight.
She’d never been attracted to big, muscly guys, yet they always seemed to be attracted to her. Some of them, at first glance, seemed like pretty strong guys as far as personality went, but sadly, most weren’t. At least to say, their personalities weren’t stronger than hers.
None of that meant anything except that she was definitely staying away from the free weight area. Not that she’d head that way anyway. She was running her five miles and going home.
After wiping her forehead with the courtesy towel she’d grabbed on her way in, she flung it over the top of the machine. The strum of the acoustic guitar in “Chrome Plated Heart” by Melissa Etheridge flowed through her earbuds. An old but awesome song.
Heather was all of three years old when it came out. She loved it though. Loved all of Melissa Etheridge’s music. Her lyrics told a story, always. And Heather identified with most all of them. This song was no exception. Heather turned up the volume, and as she ran, staring almost blindly across the gym, she got lost in the lyrics and the steady rhythm of her Nikes hitting the treadmill.
A minute or so later, the song ended. Right as it did, a tall, very fit, very handsome man she hadn’t noticed before wandered over to a treadmill three rows in front of her. Without looking at her, the guy dropped his bag on the ground, popped in a pair of AirPods, and mounted the platform.
Wait… As she caught a glimpse of his profile, Heather tilted her head to the side. Hmm. Was that? He kind of looked like the cop who had pulled her over a few weeks ago. The same cop she’d run into last week in the grocery store. Of course, he’d hit her cart with his. And then teased her a bit afterward.
The whole interaction with him had been a shock, especially because she’d become accustomed to keeping to herself, but also, the short time they’d talked, it almost seemed like he was flirting.
The possibility of seeing him again had curiosity tickling the back of her neck. Heather drew in a deep breath and blew it out. That had to be him. A better look to be sure would help. Maybe when she walked by on her way out? Heather rolled her eyes at the ridiculous idea.
Looking would be too obvious and might invite more attention from him. And attention was something Heather for sure did not want. Wait…did she? No, now was not the time for a man. Keeping to herself was a better idea. Safer for all parties involved. Plus, what would she even say to him?
The music played and Heather ran.
And she watched him run.
More like studied him. Nice calves. Nice ass too.
Truthfully, even from their brief and curt interaction the day he pulled her over and later their teasing, flirty banter in the grocery store, he seemed like a he had a pretty strong personality—though most cops did.
Either way, she’d always found that to be a huge turn on and something she was always attracted to. And aside from his personality, she had found him very good-looking. However, when he’d pulled her over, with all the body armor, belts and such that he wore, she couldn’t tell what his body type or build was. When she ran into him at the grocery, she’d been too caught off guard to really notice.
Now she had a front-row seat to the back of his body. From what she could make out through his T-shirt and shorts, he had muscle but wasn’t bulky. Definitely lean…almost like a swimmer’s build with just a little bit more definition. Nice. Very nice.
Heather shook her head, laughing at how silly she was being. But, really, why not look at the goods? After all, she was still a living, breathing woman with functioning eyes; it wasn’t like she was going to order off his menu or anything.
Regardless of whether or not she felt dead inside, her heart still beat. Her blood still flowed. Speaking of blood flowing, Heather’s was pulsing hot in her veins. She wiped her forehead with the towel. The man had sexy calves.
Dammit to hell, her hormones and reproductive system might be completely fucking defective, but her sex drive was definitely alive and kicking.
Yeah, nice calves. Nice ass too. Nice…everything.
Her treadmill shifted into cool-down mode, and that was probably a very good thing. She wasn’t doing hers. . .
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