Moving_Violations by Christina M. Brashear Read Free Book Online Page A

grinned, thankful her shirt would cover the mark. The smile stayed in place while she brushed her teeth and applied a bare minimum of makeup.

    * * * * *
    Rebecca pulled her Tracker into the small paved parking lot next to a monster sized pick-up truck…if you could call a truck that size a pick-up. She killed the engine and sat back to finish her coffee. They didn’t expect her for twenty more minutes. She would feel much more comfortable if she at least knew the name of her new boss. For some reason it hadn’t been in any of the transfer paperwork, the mayor hadn’t mentioned it and she had forgotten to ask. She narrowed her eyes and gave herself a mental head slap. She hated not being completely informed, it put her at a disadvantage. However small, it was still a disadvantage.
    Sheriff what’s-his-name had been busy on the phone with the mayor when she called earlier and the officer she’d talked with hadn’t seemed to expect her at all. On top of that, he didn’t know if he had a uniform that would fit her or not. For today, her jeans and white cotton oxford shirt would have to do. She recalled the derisive humor in the officer’s voice and got the feeling she was walking into a boy’s club.
    The police station building looked simple and a bit undersized, but someone took good care of the landscape. The tiny lawn was lush and green. The few meager hedges were neatly trimmed. She took a sip of her coffee and arched a brow. Maybe someone in there would remember her. If not, they’d just have to adjust, she thought.
    She got out, grabbed her purse, laid a hand on the firearm at her hip and slammed the car door. She felt good, cocky, self confident as she walked purposefully up the few steps. She took a deep breath as she swung open the door and looking up, froze in shock. She slowly took off her sunglasses and looked into those silver gray eyes that she watched go dark and stormy with a savage lust the night before. Her body shuddered involuntarily.
    Jackson was slightly bent, checking some reports the officer sitting at the desk had evidently been typing. That wild sexy hair still fell across his forehead. His sensual mouth frowned at her. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his snug jeans slung low on his hips. Gun and badge hung from his belt. Well, she probably didn’t have to worry about somebody remembering her now.
    Jackson cleared his throat. “Becca. May I help you?” His voice was deep and wary.
    Careful to keep her face blank, Rebecca stepped forward and offered her hand.
    “Officer Rebecca Taylor. Your transfer from Detroit.”
    28
    Moving Violations
    He straightened; she noted the muscle that pulsed in his jaw. His frown deepened as he stepped from around the desk and took her hand. Warm and calloused, it brought back that flood of erotic memories. She pulled away quicker than she should have.
    “Welcome home.”
    Her eyes widened and met his darkening gaze. Damn, when she fucked up she fucked up good, she thought. “So, you’re the sheriff.”
    He stared, or glared at her, she couldn’t decide. “I didn’t know you were arriving till the mayor called this morning.” His voice was deep and clipped. He was pissed. It showed in every hard line and muscle in his body.
    “Oh.” She shrugged, for the first time in her life at a loss for words. “Well, I…”
    “He had tried to reach me last night,” he interrupted her, pausing to let his gaze slide over her body like a lurid caress. “I was…unavailable.”
    She narrowed her eyes. Damn him, there was no need to bait her. If he wanted to make this difficult, by God, she could comply. “Well, I’m here now, Sheriff, so if we could just start this ball rolling.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “I’ll fill out the necessary paperwork and you can have someone show me the ropes…”
    “Follow me, Officer.” Giving her no chance to defy him, he turned and walked briskly down a dimly lit hallway.
    Was that a smirk? That jackass