As if my day hasn’t been crappy enough. Christie, our new waitress, spilled coffee on three customers, who decided to start shouting at me for some reason, and then quit when our manager reprimanded her, leaving me alone for the entire shift.
Tips were awful, and my tank was empty, so I blew almost all of what I made tonight at the pump. And now, because of Mr. Power Hungry over here, I’m going to miss my night class, which will put me further behind on my dreams of becoming an RN.
You’d think after growing up with no father and an absent and alcoholic mother who goes through men like dogs go through chew toys, the universe would throw me a bone once in a while. Guess not.
My stomach is boiling as I look at his face in the rearview.
At his chiseled, kingly face.
He’s brutally handsome, somewhere in his thirties, with a commanding voice that demands submission. This is a man you don’t say no to.
He’s at least a foot taller than me, built like a gladiator, and reminds me of those grizzled cops from old detective movies.
“So abusing your power during traffic stops is how you get your jollies?” I murmur, twisting my wrists against the cold steel of the cuffs.
He raises an amused eyebrow. “Using your good looks to avoid consequences is how you get yours?”
“You saying I’m good-looking?”
“Don’t play games with me.”
“Oh? I thought that’s what you were already doing.”
His jaw clenches as we pull into the parking lot of the police station, but his face betrays nothing. It’s like he was carved out of stone and brought to life. Immovable. Unbreakable.
I take a tense breath as he steps out and opens the door, taking me firmly by the wrists. He lifts me to my feet with ease. I know I’m tiny, but it’s like I weigh nothing to him.
Illuminated by the parking lot lights, I can see more of him now and find myself blinking quickly, as if the whole thing is a dream and I’m about to wake up.
This man looks like a movie star. How is he a traffic cop? I barely reach his chest, which is stretching the fabric of his uniform around it. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who goes to the gym, but he’s built like one. No. This is just his natural physique, and that’s crazy.
I bet he getstonsof women.
“Stop it,” he says.
“Stop what?”
“Checking me out,” he replies with a wink. “You’re making it too obvious.”
My jaw drops, and my cheeks ignite as he pulls me in front of him, guiding me to the station.
“Checkingyouout? Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Like I said. It’s obvious.”
I’m usually pretty quick, but I’m completely frozen as he leads me up the front steps to the door. This whole experience feels like a dream or a scenario out of a romance movie. I’m handcuffed, prickling all over, and under the complete control of a massive policeman.
As I enter, heads turn. Heads of other policeman, turning to look at me.Me. The girl who’s taken the right road every step of her life. Now I’m being paraded in front of them like a common criminal. My neck is hot as I drop my head and let my hair cover my face.
But all I can think about as I walk is Gareth’s hand on my arm. Is it too tight? Or not tight enough?Jesus, Briar, what is wrong with you?
“Who’s that?” an amused male voice calls out as I step inside. “Anotherprofessional?”
Something close to a laugh escapes Gareth’s lips. “Nah. Criminal speeding and resisting arrest.”
“Criminal speeding?” I hiss as he drags me past empty desks into a vacant, white hallway. “Oh, you’re really loving this, aren’t you?”
“What gave me away?”