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I grinned like a cat with a canary. I couldn’t help it. I’d assumed my days of being the object of anyone’s desire were long gone. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Probably from the minute you pulled me over for speeding. Hot cop saunters to a truck, ticket book in hand. I mean…c’mon. The trashy porn dialogue writes itself.”

I barked a laugh. “That’s terrible, but also…thanks. I needed that.”

“Just being honest,” he singsonged.

“Look, I know the hotel and the online hookup you stumbled upon paint a seedy picture, but this…” I opened my arms to encompass the room and maybe Burlington in general. “…isn’t my life. I’m a divorced single dad. Being a police officer is just my day job. My life is my kids. And my dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“Tate. He’s a golden retriever, and he’s a big, furry goofball.”

“Where’s Tate tonight?”

“With my ex. I told her I had business here, and Jess agreed to take him for the night. I had to say the ‘business’ part or she’d ask who, what, when, and where…and within the hour, the whole fucking town would think I had a secret lover. And that would be the end of the secret—if there was one in the first place.” I flashed a weary glance, adding, “I prefer to keep my personal life under wraps.”

He brushed his hands on his jeans as he stood. “What happens in Burlington stays in Burlington. I get it. Life’s complicated.”

“Yeah. It is.”

He checked his pockets for his cell and keys and met me at the door. “Thanks for the good time, Chief. I mean, my ass is sore and it’s gonna be a helluva long ride home, but worth it.”

My face heated on cue. “Drive safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was just enough snark in his tone to keep the mood light. I snickered, and on a whim, I grabbed his chin and kissed him. Quick and dirty.

We stared at each other for a beat. I couldn’t speak for Waylon, but I was shaken by a fresh wave of desire. The ding of the elevator was like a bucket of cold water. We stepped apart and shared a guilty smile before he turned and walked away.

I closed the door, aware of the goofy expression on my face.

So what? I liked him. Waylon was solid, direct, and extraordinarily sexy. And tonight had been pretty fucking amazing.

No, I wouldn’t seek Waylon out in Wood Hollow. But I knew that if our paths happened to cross, it was going to be hard to pretend to feel nothing at all.

CHAPTER 9

WAYLON

“Someone is stealing. I’m telling you, the fasteners are disappearing. Screws, nuts, bolts. Tubs of the stuff have dwindled over the past month. We’ve got a problem.”

Artie was prone to exaggeration, and I still had a feeling he was miffed that I’d been given the job he coveted; however, he seemed genuinely upset.

I stared at the barrels of nails with my hands on my hips. Cost-wise, a missing box or two of fasteners wouldn’t make a dent in our profit margin, but I certainly didn’t like the idea of hundreds of dollars’ worth of merchandise disappearing. Or the insinuation that one of my guys had something to do with it.

“Are you sure they haven’t been misplaced? Maybe a new shipment didn’t get processed properly or⁠—”

“I know how to do my job,” the older man huffed indignantly.

I nodded curtly. “Let’s check the security recordings and⁠—”

“Call the police?” Artie suggested. “Already did it. Chief La Rue should be here any minute.”

Right. That was the sensible thing to do. File a report, contact the insurance company, and protect ourselves against future loss. I found it hard to believe that a police chief would take a stolen goods report—but this was Wood Hollow, so what did I know?

I had my doubts, though. See, I hadn’t so much as caught a passing glimpse of Chief La Rue on Main Street since that night in Burlington. And that was ten days ago.