Trusting the Badge

Book 3: Arizona K9

by Dorothy F Shaw

Genres: Action & Adventure Romance; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

For members of a police K9 Unit, partnership is everything—in work and in love.
 
LOVE AT FIRST NIGHT . . .
 
Shuttled between her alcoholic parents and foster homes that separated her from beloved younger brother, Steven, it’s no wonder Tish Beck is a woman with trust issues. To avoid getting hurt—or hurting someone else—she’s kept her romantic life commitment-free, and that’s fine by her. Until she meets exasperatingly hot, funny, smart-ass K9 officer Jeffrey Pearl, and stupidly spends the night with him . . .
 
Currently single and content, Jeff’s always got his canine bestie, Rio, by his side, and loads of human friends. He enjoys the occasional close encounter, but hasn’t been tempted into anything serious. Until Tish. He’s inexplicably head over heels. Too bad she’s determined to keep him at arm’s length. But when Tish’s brother winds up in jail—again—Jeff’s glad to be the man Tish turns to for help. And with Steven back on the scene, she’ll need it. Soon Tish will have to open her eyes—and her heart—to love, and realize where, and with whom, her safety truly lies . . .

Release date: June 15, 2021

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 200

Sample

Chapter 1

Tish Beck stared at the text message from the most annoying man on the planet.

Do Not Reply: Hayy, girl. Hayyyy. Wait... Hay is for horses, right? Yep, at least that’s what I’ve been taught. Anyhoo, how’s it going, mami? Figured I’d check in on you. You heading home from LA tonight?

God help her, she was not going to answer him. And not just because that was what she labeled him in her contacts.

Mami... Annoyance bounced around her brain.

He loved to call her that.

And she hated it.

Tish hit the side button, closing down the screen, and turned the phone over on her lap. Exhaling a long breath, she looked out the small oval airplane window at the ground crew loading luggage into the underbelly of the plane. Absently, she tapped her nail on the back of the phone case. Tish blew out another breath and swiped a stray hair away from her eyes.

Nope, for sure not answering him because...Jeff Pearl was the most obnoxious man she’d ever met.

Definitely a clear reason to not answer the text, but if she needed another, all she had to do was think about the designation she’d given him—the “deadly good-looking, goofy asshole” designation.

What made all this worse was he’d gotten under her skin like a nasty splinter forever ago, and Tish had yet to dig him out.

He’d text her again before he went to bed, just to say good night. He’d text her a “good morning” tomorrow. And then he’d text during his dinner break at work, or if he wasn’t on duty, he’d text anyway, just to “check in” with her.

It wasn’t stalking, per se, not in the real sense of the word anyway or the kind that was a crime. Annoying? One hundred percent yes. But that was it. The only silver lining was, apparently, she’d gotten under his skin too.

Except it was more than obvious he was not willing to dig her out. In fact, as far as she could tell, he wanted to do some digging in—more digging in, that is.

Tish closed her eyes, and immediately, as if always cued up and ready to go, the memory played...

* * * *

Outside the Whiskey Barrel, with her back pressed against the wall, Tish Beck gazed up at him. And what a beautiful sight he was. He’d rested one hand on the bricks above her head and hooked the pointer finger on his other in the belt loop of her jeans. Aside from that, he hadn’t touched her...yet. At least not touched her in the way he was looking like he wanted to touch her.

She hadn’t touched him yet either. Her palms were pressed firmly against the wall she was backed up to, but God help her, her entire body buzzed in anticipation of what the expression in his pretty brown eyes was promising. Even so, the excitement pumping through her veins was a shock. Jeff Pearl was not the type of man she would’ve chosen for herself in the past.

He was too goofy.

Too good-looking.

Too...everything.

His gaze settled on her lips before moving—oh so slowly—to her eyes. “So, we doing this?”

Tish’s breath caught at the raspy sound of his voice. The heat from his body so close to hers felt wayyyy too good. And for the love of all things holy, he smelled incredible. Jesus, she needed to get a leash on herself. Tish ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Doing what?”

He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in reaction. “All right, mami.”

Mami...

She had no idea why he called her that. Most of the time, it was annoying. Except the way he said it this time, the raspy low tone had a knot of arousal tightening in her stomach in a way she’d never thought possible. Jeff let go of her belt loop and ran the flat of his palm up her side, breaking contact long enough to frame her jaw in his big hand between thumb and forefinger.

Christ, she was going to spontaneously combu—

Jeff tipped his head to the side and kissed her.

No preamble. No little strokes. No teasing, coaxing, nothing timid about it. This annoying god of a man kissed her, his tongue immediately in her mouth, tangling with hers and...

Yeah, wow...just, wow.

Unable to keep her hands to herself any longer, she slipped her palms up his sides, relishing the feel of tight male body beneath his T-shirt. Tish’s entire body lit up like a Roman candle. Hot tingles spread from her tummy to between her legs, and a moan escaped. Shit, she was so screwed. Totally done for.

Jeff broke the kiss and pulled back. He let out a sigh and stroked the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, trailed it down her chin and continued down her neck. “Yeah, mami, we’re doing this.”

She swallowed, nodding her head. “Yeah, we are.”

* * * *

Tish snapped open her eyes, drew in a harsh breath, and crossed her legs. She swallowed a groan at the wetness she felt... Damn.

One night—for God’s sake!

And that was all it took.

After months of him annoying her and teasing her and flirting with her, she’d given in. Blame the booze, right? It was the only way to justify her actions, to herself anyway. One drink too many, though not enough to be intoxicated, of course. Just enough to lower her guard.

End result? One night together that had rocked her world in a way nothing else ever had. Jeff was still in hot pursuit, and she couldn’t get away fast enough.

No one knew about it either. Not even her best friend, Rayna. And to Tish’s knowledge, Jeff hadn’t told anyone. Specifically, Derek—Rayna’s man.

Yes, the sex had been off the charts.

Yes, when he’d kissed her, the world fell away...like it did in romance novels.

Yes, when she fell asleep in his arms, she felt safe...for the first time in, like, ever.

And that was precisely why she would not, could not, go back.

Jeffrey Shawn Pearl was a goofy asshole, who was deadly good-looking, but more than all of that, he felt like home. Tish wasn’t emotionally equipped to handle all he represented, or more, give him what she was sure he’d want from her.

She had too many other things to worry about. Okay, maybe not too many. Perhaps just a few. But they were big things. Getting her credit cards paid down. Making more money was definitely at the top of the list. Shit, getting some money back in her savings could go a long way.

But really, at the end of the day, her biggest priority was taking care of her younger brother, Steven. Making sure he was okay was a hell of a lot more important than Tish having some satisfying fling with some goofy asshole. Hell, for that matter, Steven was more important than any of Tish’s needs. The top of the list was reserved for Steven and always had been.

With the childhood they’d suffered through? Saddled with two alcoholic, addict, abusive and neglectful parents...they’d both needed to be taken care of. With Steven being younger, his care and protection was a job Tish had taken on before she’d even entered kindergarten, and she was only a mere two years older than him.

It had been harder to take care of him after they’d eventually been taken away from their parents and put in foster care—especially after they’d been separated a few times.

People talked about having baggage from growing up in a dysfunctional home. Please, their stuff didn’t even compare. Tish and Steven had baggage in spades. How could they not?

But as far as Tish was concerned, she was doing just fine. She’d survived and persevered.

Sure, things had been dysfunctional, extremely so, but that didn’t have to define a person.

Her father died in prison, and she had no idea where her mother ended up, but she assumed she was dead too. Despite all that, the future was a person’s God-given right to fuck up or make a success.

Her parents had fucked theirs up.

Tish was on the success path, but sadly, Steven was on the same road their parents had been on.

Shifting in her seat, her text chime rang again. Seriously? Tish rolled her eyes, debating whether or not to even look. Could be Steven, though. She hadn’t heard from him in weeks, and he hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts. Half the time when he went off-grid on her, she had no clue if he had picked up and moved out of state or if he was living on the streets in their own city or if he was dead. The not knowing and the fear that plagued her—especially the thought of death—was unbearable.

Grabbing the phone, she swiped the screen. Tish’s heart sank. Damn. Not Steven...

Jerry Hamilton: Hey gorgeous. You want to grab a drink this weekend?

After letting out a sigh, she hit the back arrow to exit the message, then swiped to delete. Sorry, Jerry. Not interested. One drink was enough, especially since his one drink really meant six Budweisers over two, maybe three hours. The beer breath was outstanding! Not.

Besides, even if she were interested in seeing Jerry again, it didn’t matter because she already had dinner plans tomorrow night with the very good-looking, fully self-supporting Chad Williams. A coworker she didn’t know well had introduced them a few weeks ago at a vendor mingling event her bosses were having, and she’d given Chad her number.

Why not, right? She was single, after all, and planned to stay that way.

Tish glanced up and eyed the older woman heading down the aisle, her eyes pinned to Tish’s row. As expected, the evening flight was always full, and Tish was about to get her row buddy.

The woman set her bag down on the end seat. “Is this spot open?”

Tish smiled. “It’s all yours.”

There was gray present in her short, light brown hair, but in a way that made it look like silver highlights were expertly added and perfectly styled. Nice. Makeup done to perfection. Jewelry, which was obviously high dollar. Assuming she was someone’s grandmother, she was definitely not a typical one.

This was the kind of woman whose grandkids called her “GG” because “Grandma” just sounded too much like an old lady in orthopedic shoes and support hose. Tish shook her head and chuckled. Totally the kind of grandmother she hoped to be someday.

Returning her attention back to her phone, she scrolled and came to a few unread messages from earlier in the day. Tish rolled her eyes.

Cole Prince: Hey sweetness, hit me up if you want to check out downtown Gilbert tonight. I’m meeting some buddies down there.

Once more, Tish hit the back arrow and deleted the message. Cole was sweet but too young, and she wasn’t in the mood for him and his boys, though downtown Gilbert would probably be hopping tonight.

The phone dinged in her hand. Tish smiled.

Rayna Michaels: Did you board the flight?

Tish Beck: Yup. Sitting in my seat now. Taking off in about fifteen min I’m guessing. How about I text you when I get home?

Rayna Michaels: Sounds good, honey.

The endearing response from her best friend went straight to Tish’s heart. Rayna was so different, and in all the best ways, since she and Derek got together a little over a year ago.

Tish Beck: You and Derek going out tonight?

Rayna Michaels: Nope. We have Megan this weekend.

Tish Beck: Gotcha. I’ll text later. Say hi to Derek for me. Love you.

Tish set her phone back down in her lap. She was not going to read Jeff’s message again. She should just delete it like she did all the others, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. It just felt so...final. Annoyed with herself, she put her phone in airplane mode and shoved it into the seat-back pocket.

Sitting back, she crossed her legs, brushed some lint off her thigh, and glanced over at the woman again. She was putting on a fresh coat of lipstick. Her nails were nicely manicured, a little long, and filed into ovals. Tish smiled. She smelled good too.

The flight was short to Arizona, true, but at least her copilot was more livable than most. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and the middle seat will stay open.”

“Let’s hope so.” The lady recapped the lipstick. “I’ve got a bit of luck that follows me around.” She winked and put the tube away in her purse.

Tish chuckled. “I could use a little luck for sure.”

The urge to go back into her phone was making her skin itch. Instead of giving in, she grabbed the drink menu out of the seat-back pocket in front of her. About ten minutes passed, and the announcements started. The boarding door closed, and low and behold, the middle seat was still empty.

Tish glanced at the older woman. “Looks like your luck paid out today.”

“Looks that way.” The woman smiled.

The flight attendants started their routine statements and rundown of the rules. Tish flew so much she could practically recite them for the crew. Bending forward, she pulled her purse onto her lap. “I’ve got an extra drink ticket. Can I get you a drink too?”

The woman’s eyes went wide. “That sounds nice. I’d love a drink, thank you.”

“Great!” Tish pulled out two tickets and shoved her purse back under the seat.

The woman leaned toward Tish. “It’s a metaphor for life, you know.”

“What is?”

“The oxygen mask.”

Tish tipped her head to the side and felt her brows pull together. “I’m sorry?”

The woman nodded, her expression soft but her gaze sharp as a tack. “You know how they tell us we’re supposed to put our own mask on first before assisting others.”

“Right.”

“It’s a metaphor for living. Basically, we need to take care of ourselves first. If we don’t do that, we are no good to anyone else. Can’t give away what you don’t have, you know?”

“I guess that’s true.” Tish shrugged. “Never really thought about it.”

The woman leaned back as much as the seat allowed and closed her eyes. “Not many do, sweetheart.”

Tish shook her head and let out a soft laugh. And this was what it felt like to get grandmothered.

Anxious for something other than air masks and Jeff Pearl’s texts to occupy her mind, she pulled out the in-flight magazine. It was looking like it was going to be a relatively quiet flight. One with the middle seat still open.

Not a bad deal.

* * * *

Jeff checked his phone again. No reply from Tish. Not that he expected one; she usually didn’t answer him. But sometimes he got lucky and she did, so a guy had to try, right? Sure, one might consider his pining a tad pathetic...though he preferred to think of it as wooing. Didn’t matter. Not like anyone knew about it anyway.

Shoving his cell in the running sleeve strapped to his bicep, he turned his music up, attached Rio’s leash to his harness, and walked out of his house. “Come on, partner. Time for some cardio.”

Five, maybe six miles today. He needed the stress release for sure. The workweek had been grueling, and although today was his second day off in his normal four-on, three-off work schedule, he’d been busy all of yesterday with K9 training.

At the end of his driveway, Jeff took a moment to stretch before bouncing on his toes to loosen things up. “You ready?”

Rio jumped to all fours from his sitting position and let out a half bark, half chuff, and then a sneeze.

Jeff chuckled. “Me too. Lead the way, partner.”

Rio set out down the sidewalk, and Jeff followed, staying a couple feet behind the dog. Their pace was evenly matched, and they were in total sync. That was how it’d been between Jeff and Rio from the minute the animal had been assigned to him as his K9 partner. It was as if they shared a brain.

As they rounded the corner in his neighborhood heading for the greenbelt about a half a mile down, the next song came up. The intense drumbeat of Bon Jovi’s “Lay Your Hands On Me” came through the phone’s speaker, not as loud as Jeff would’ve preferred, but he’d take it.

Oh, yeah. Good tune. He should text Tish later with a link to the song. Jeff could think of a million awesome ways he’d lay his hands on her...again. That was if she ever gave him another shot. The woman was stubborn and had an ironclad will. But he wasn’t giving up.

Jeff had decided a little over a year ago, when they’d met, that she was it for him. His end all, be all. His bee’s knees. The greatest thing since sliced bread. Really, he could go on and on.

Never in his life had anyone ever matched him in shit for shit, like she had. Plus, she took zero crap from him or anyone. Smart as a whip. Feisty as a wild stallion. Bitchy, moody, and flat-out fucking gorgeous.

God, he loved every part of it, every part of her.

The more she shot him down, the more he wanted her. It was fucked up, but it wasn’t a case of wanting what he couldn’t have. Jeff had no issue finding dates or one-night stands if he wanted. Word on the street was he was a hell of a man-whore, but really...who listened to rumors? Not him, that was for damn sure.

All joking and rumor aside, Jeff wasn’t opposed to relationships at all, and he didn’t have commitment issues. Not that he knew of anyway. No matter what any past flings might think either. He just hadn’t found the right fit for him.

But then there was Patrice Beck.

Patrice...such an awesome, unique name. Elegant was what he’d thought of the first time he’d heard it. Shame she never went by her full name, preferred to be called Tish. He doubted she was aware that he knew her full name.

Lucky for him, her bestie, Rayna, had let Tish’s full name slip one day, and Jeff had never forgotten.

Jeff cleared his throat and rounded another corner, heading deeper into his neighborhood. Tish was the picture of elegance and beauty, as far as he was concerned. Ice-blue eyes—the color so pristine a person could get lost in them, drown in them even. Dimples in both cheeks when she smiled.

Fuck, gorgeous.

Long, thick, dark brown hair. When he’d met her, it was just below her shoulders, but a year later, it was close to the middle of her back. The woman had amazing hair. Like, shampoo commercial perfect hair.

And then her lips. God. Damn. Jeff wiped his mouth with the sweatband on his wri. . .