The Firefighter and the Girl From the Coffee Shop (10 page)

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Portland,
Maine - Day 1

Lincoln had
been watching Angelique Donovan - a twenty-eight year old bail
jumper - for several days now from the cover of his black 1969
Chevy Impala SS. It wasn't the most inconspicuous car to be on a
stakeout in, but it was as close to a partner as he ever got. He'd
been given it by his father on his eighteenth birthday - fifteen
years ago - just before both of his parents died in a head on
collision with a drunk driver.

He had four
sisters, though he rarely saw them; life happens like that
sometimes and he'd grown to accept that. They all lived in various
areas of the North East, while he’d moved to Denver eight years ago
and never looked back. For the most part, the car was the closest
thing to family that he had and considering he spent more time in
it tracking down bail jumpers, than he did in his apartment, he
considered the car his home.

The
dark-haired beauty was a hard worker, he'd give her that much. She
pulled in long shifts every day and of the past three days he'd
watched her, two of the shifts had been doubles. Regardless of how
many hours she worked, she always greeted each customer with a
wide, friendly smile. If he allowed himself he could have easily
been pulled in by that bright smile, and the friendly gleam in her
lively blue eyes.

But he
wouldn't allow himself, because this time next week he'd be handing
her over in handcuffs to the authorities in Denver, Colorado, where
she was to stand trial on a murder charge. He had wondered
countless times over the past few days how such a sweet, pretty
little thing like Angelique Donovan could murder anyone. But he'd
been a bounty hunter for close to ten years and one thing he'd
learned in his time capturing bail jumpers was that anyone is
capable of committing a crime. And in many cases it was the people
you least expected that committed the worst kinds.

Lincoln
sighed. "Well, show-time," he grumbled, thrusting his pistol in his
shoulder holster, stuffing a pair of handcuffs in the pocket of his
black leather bomber jacket and opening the car door. Not bothering
to lock the car, he strutted across the parking lot of the coffee
house towards the front entrance, keeping his eyes locked on
Angelique.

He wondered if
she'd be the type to run when she discovered who he was and why he
was there. Most were, but considering it was a public place with so
many co-workers around, maybe he'd get lucky and she'd go quietly,
maybe even without him having to cuff her.

A guy can only
dream.

He opened the
front door of the coffee shop for a couple of elderly ladies to
exit. They looked up at him, soft smiles touching their lips and
muttered their thanks. He gave them a curt nod of his head and
slipped through the open door. Of the three girls working the front
cashes, Angelique was the only one busy so he waited in line for
her.

"I can help
you over here, Sir," one of the available hostesses told him but he
gave a slight shake of his head.

"Nah thanks,
I'll wait for Angelique."

He heard one
of the girl mutter 'typical' under her breath followed by, 'she
gets all the hot ones.' Lincoln grinned to himself at being
referred to as a 'hot one' and removed the mirrored sunglasses that
covered his stormy grey eyes and gave the hostess that made the hot
one comment a wink. She flushed and scurried away into the back
kitchen causing his grin to widen.

The customer
before him took his coffee from the counter when Angelique
presented him with it and left. His turn. Stepping up to the
counter, with his thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans
he waited for Angelique to acknowledge him.

"How can I
help you?" Angelique looked up, her eyes shining, her smile
friendly. She chewed at her lower lip as she waited for his
response, drawing his eyes to her full, glossed lips.

His cock
stirred in his jeans and he growled at himself for letting his mind
become distracted; even if it was just long enough to admire her
subtle beauty. Shit, even the dorky visor sitting atop her head
looked adorable.

Fuck and
double fuck.

He cleared his
throat, pushing his attraction for her to the back of his mind. He
had a job to do and eyeing her like a teenager with a hard-on
wasn't going to get it done. He slipped his hand into the inside
pocket of his jacket and pulled out his badge. "Well, Angelique...
you could help by coming quietly with me."

He locked
gazes with her and waited for it - waiting for the pieces of the
puzzle to fall into place for her and for her to realize she'd been
tracked down and that she was going to be taken back to Denver.

That's it
honey, think it over....

Lincoln held
his breath, and before his eyes the realization set in. Her eyes
widened, her smile faded, and she took a couple of steps back from
the cash register.

Oh come on,
don't make me chase you.

But she was
going to run; he could see it in her eyes, as they quickly surveyed
the restaurant around her. It was the look a deer got when it
sensed a hunter and was about to make a run for it. She took
another step back.

"I... I
th-think you have the wrong person."

Lincoln
stuffed the badge back into his inner pocket and then slipped his
hand into his outside jacket pocket to produce the handcuffs.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Angelique."

She sighed.
Frowning, her eyes showed a look of resignation. "Alright," she
muttered, "I'll go with you."

Slipping the
cuffs back into his pocket, Lincoln let out a sigh of relief. He
took a step back from the counter and waited for her to come around
the counter and allow him to escort her from the restaurant.

Head down, she
slowly made her way around the counter, until she hit the door for
the kitchen. And just like that she made a run for it, dashing into
the kitchen.

"Fuck!"
Lincoln growled leaping over the counter and beginning what he
assumed would be a short, yet annoying pursuit.

As he entered
the kitchen, he felt his feet slip out from under him. He reached
out to steady himself on the stainless steel counter next to him,
but it was too late. Within seconds he found himself on his back,
lying on the greasy floor. He turned his head just in time to see
her smirk at him, give a tiny wave and disappear out the back
exit.

"Oh, that
cocky little..." he bellowed as he pulled himself to his feet and
continued his pursuit of her, bursting through the back and into
the back lot of the coffee shop. His eyes did a quick scan and
happened to see her race into an alley between two apartment
buildings.

He broke into
a full run chasing after her. He dodged cars as he crossed the busy
street and ducked into the alley he'd seen her disappear into. The
alley became a maze of dead ends and high fences, so he was certain
as long as he followed where it led, he'd have her.

****

Damn, damn,
damn.

Tears blurred
Angelique's eyes as she sat, hidden at the back of a stinky
dumpster. How did life get this bad for her? Just six months ago
she had everything, a promising career as a journalist at a
prestigious newspaper, a nice home and was soon to be married to a
man she loved and admired, Nathan Winters. Then, in the blink of an
eye Nathan was dead and
she
was the one going to trial for
his murder.

Her breath
caught in her throat as she heard the sound of footsteps beside the
dumpster. Just as the footsteps began to move away, she heard a
squeak and felt something run across her exposed ankle. She yelped,
and covered her mouth to try and stifle the noise, but it was too
late. The owner of the footsteps started back in her direction.

The footsteps
came back to the dumpster, and the lid was flipped open to display
the bounty hunter glaring down at her. In other circumstances she
would have found him attractive, but as he stood staring down at
her trembling body, all she could thing about was that this was the
end of the line for her. She was going to trial and then to prison
for a crime she didn't commit.

"It's over
Angelique, come out." He extended his hand to her, but she cowered
away from him, inching away until her back hit the cold steel back
of the massive dumpster.

The
blonde-haired man huffed and his eyes narrowed at her. "You can't
be serious. You have
no
idea how pissed I'm going to be if I
have to come in there after you."

It may have
been over for her; she was caught, but she'd be damned if she was
going to make it easy on him. She cocked her head to the side and
gave him the same condescending smirk she'd given him when she'd
seen him slip on the vegetable oil she'd intentionally spilled on
the kitchen floor during her escape from the coffee shop. "Guess
you're going to have to earn that bounty and come and get me."

His features
darkened and anger flashed within his deep grey eyes. "Fine. Have
it your way." A deep, growl-like noise came from him as he pulled
himself up and into the dumpster.

Seeing one
final chance to escape, she scrambled to her feet and leapt over
the side as he jumped in. She tripped as she landed on the cement
ground of the alleyway, skinning the palms of her hands, but she
righted herself once more and lunged forward.

"For the love
of fuck, Angelique!" he shouted after her followed by a grunt and
thud as he jumped from the dumpster and continued his pursuit.

She had just
begun to regain a small sliver of hope when she felt an arm wrap
around her waist and an impact which felt like the force of a Mack
truck slamming into her back, sending her tumbling to the ground.
As Angelique landed, the wind was knocked from her as his weight
came crashing down onto her. She was still trying to regain her
breath when she felt his weight lift, and her wrists being grabbed
roughly and cuffed behind her back.

"We could have
just done this the easy way Angelique and you could have saved me a
lot of aggravation. Now you have me in a bad mood."

Angelique
huffed. "Do you honestly think I care about your mood?"

"You should
since you're stuck with me for the next week. I can be a really
nice guy, Angelique, but I can just as easily be a major asshole.
Ball’s in your court."

Once her arms
were secure, Lincoln stood, grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly
to her feet. Still not wanting to admit defeat, even with her arms
secure behind her back, she tried to jerk her arm from his
grasp.

Grabbing her
around the waist he pulled her rear tight against him. The fight in
her was pretty much gone, but she couldn't resist bucking against
him a couple more times. She gasped and she froze against him as
she felt his cock begin to grow and press against her bottom.

"Oh-my-god,"
she gasped. "You're actually turned on by this? By chasing down a
defenceless woman?"

Lincoln
stepped back from her, grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her along
as they made their way back out of the alleyway. "You were
squirming that tight ass of yours against my dick as if you were a
damned stripper after a buck; what did you expect?" he defended,
refusing to meet her gaze, though as she watched his expression she
saw a flush beginning to redden his face. A slight grin touched her
lips as a plan began to formulate in her mind, not the best plan in
the world, admittedly, but one nonetheless.

She allowed
her eyes to wander up and down the length of him. He was at least
six foot. She guessed close to 6 foot 2, short-cut blonde hair and
deep grey eyes. His shoulders and chest were thick and powerful. He
was attractive, no doubt about it, in a rugged sort of way. The
kind of guy she'd easily be able to fall for - under different
circumstances.