2
Sandra set down her phone and stared at it for a long moment, replaying the conversation she'd just had with Captain Terry Bunswick. His voice had been deeper than she'd expected, with a slight rasp that suggested either too much coffee or too many late nights. When she'd explained the Johnson situation, he'd listened without interrupting, asked the right questions, and agreed to help without making her feel like she was asking for a favor.
Professional competence was attractive in any man, but his warm tone when he'd mentioned stopping for cookies for his kids made her stomach flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the terrible Legal Aid office coffee.
"Portia," Sandra called out to the reception area, "Captain Bunswick from the drug task force is coming by in about twenty minutes. Can you watch for him?"
"Oooh." Portia's voice carried interest. "I heard he's supposed to be quite something to look at."
Sandra felt heat creep up her neck. Small towns meant everyone knew everyone else's business, and apparently, that included which law enforcement officers were considered easy on the eyes. "I wouldn't know. This is strictly professional."
"Mm-hmm," Portia replied in a tone that she didn’t care. “Still nothing wrong with looking.”
Rupert, one of the other attorneys in the office, caught her in the hall. “I’m heading to file papers at the courthouse, then remember I’m taking a half personal day today.”
“That’s right. It’s not Margery, is it?”
“No, she’s fine. To be honest, I have a golf game today over at The Dunes Resort. Harrison Blackwood asked me to play.”
Her eyes bugged as her smile widened. “Ooh, you’re moving up in the world, aren’t you?” she joked.
“Blackwood is building some really nice homes in The Dunes, and with the baby coming, Margery and I are thinking of building a new house instead of trying to add onto the small one we have now. Blackwood invited me to play golf there. He said another attorney from the Virginia Beach area was coming, too. And afterward, he’s taking me through a few of the homes he’s building so I can get a feel for them.” Rupert sighed. “I’ll have to see if I can afford one!”
“Good luck!” she called out. She’d found a small house to rent when she came to the Shore and had no plans to buy at the moment. Although she could understand Rupert’s desire to get in with a builder with Blackwood’s reputation for excellence.
Returning to her office, she focused on the file covering her desk. Twenty minutes later, Portia's voice carried down the hallway. "Sandra, Captain Bunswick is here."
Sandra smoothed her blouse, checked her reflection in her computer screen, and immediately felt ridiculous for primping before a professional meeting. She was an attorney, not a teenager getting ready for a first date. She stepped into the reception area and nearly swallowed her tongue.Holy hell.
The man standing in their modest reception area looked like he'd stepped out of an action movie—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that suggested he ran his hands through itfrequently and hadn't seen a barber in a few weeks. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt that stretched across a chest that clearly saw regular gym time, and when he turned toward her, she caught the glint of a small silver earring in his left ear.
This was not what she'd expected from a police captain.
The men she'd dated in Alexandria had been polished professionals in expensive suits who spent their weekends at wine tastings and art gallery openings. Terry Bunswick looked like he could change his own oil, fix a leaky faucet, and definitely knew how to throw a punch if the situation called for it.
The edginess should have made her nervous. Instead, the immediate, visceral attraction she felt caught her completely off guard.
After introductions and settling into her office, she studied Terry as they discussed the Johnson case. The way he leaned forward when she spoke and gave her his complete attention felt both professional and intensely personal. Most men she'd dealt with in legal settings tended to mansplain or dismiss her concerns. Terry listened without interrupting, asked intelligent questions, and treated her expertise with respect. It was intoxicating.
When he offered to provide more help than she'd requested, Sandra felt a flutter of attraction in her chest mixed with deeper respect. They were both people who cared about protecting those who couldn't defend themselves, and recognizing that kinship in Terry sent warmth spreading through her chest.
As their meeting wound down, Sandra was reluctant to let him leave. The professional mask had slipped slightly during their conversation, revealing glimpses of the man beneath the badge. He clearly adored his children, took his responsibilities seriously, and possessed a dry sense of humor that made her want to discover what else lay beneath his controlled exterior.
Single dad.The words echoed in her mind as Terry gathered his things. Two kids. That was... complicated. Not a deal-breaker necessarily but definitely something that would make any potential relationship more complex than anything she'd experienced before.
"So," Sandra said, standing as well, "I guess I know where to find you if I need anything else for the case."
"Day or night," Terry replied, and something in his tone made her pulse quicken. "This kind of injustice pisses me off almost as much as it does you."
Sandra walked him to the reception area, intensely conscious of his presence beside her. "Well, Mrs. Johnson will sleep better tonight knowing you're on her side."
"Good." Terry paused at the door, his hand on the handle. "You know, Sandra, what you do here… it matters.” He dipped his chin. “It was nice to meet you."
The unexpected praise hit her harder than any flirtation could have. "Thank you. That... that means a lot, especially coming from someone who sees the worst of what happens when the system fails people."
Terry's warm smile was genuine. "Take care of yourself, counselor."
Sandra stood at the front door after he left, watching him walk down the shop’s sidewalk toward the bakery. Even his stride was the confident, purposeful gait of a man comfortable with his own authority. Jeez, that was sexy.
