No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Sheena Hutchinson except in the case of brief quotations embodied in a critic article or review.

This book is a complete work of fiction. All of the characters, names, places, and events are the product of the Author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,

Cover art: Cover Me Darling

Copy Editing: By The Book Editing

Content Editing:
Starfire Press

Formatting: Athena Interior Book Design and Cover Me Darling

This book is dedicated to those battling addiction or depression. There is always light at the end of the tunnel, never give up. Things have a way of working out in the end, if it hasn’t worked out – it is not the end.

“So…” The brunette pulls her dress over her head, dark hair tumbling down her back. “I’ll call you later?” Those nimble fingers of hers toss her morning-after hair into a messy bun before she sits that curvaceous frame on the edge of my bed.

“Listen…”
What was her name again?
“Let’s just call this what it was.” My head leans against my loose headboard as she straps into her knee high boots.

Her back straightens and she stands to her feet at the sound of my words. The woman turns to face me. Even after all the events of last night, her make-up is only slightly smudged. She has a Latina appeal, dark hair, eyes exotically shaped, and a beauty of a natural kind.

“And what exactly is that?” Her hand finds its way onto her hip, dark eyes suddenly alive. A different kind of fire from the one I experienced last night.
Here it comes
.

“A fun night.” I shrug. “As I recall, we both had fun last night.” I wink. She scoffs, kicking something under my bed. “But we can both just save the feelings and cut to the chase – we’ll probably never see each other again.”

“You are such a dick.” Her hips swish and her bun bobs up and down, turning and stomping out of my room. What did she expect? She practically threw herself at me last night at the bar. A deep, meaningful relationship? – “Girls, man.” I sigh.

“You’re welcome,” I scream. The front door slams shut.

Finally
. I slip out of bed stark naked and wander into the bathroom, waiting until the steam fills the room before hopping inside. Now, she was fun. I smirk as water cascades down the sides of my face. I stand, palms against the cold grey tile, letting the flashback set in. T
he moonlight plays across her face as her hips grind on top of me. Her thick brunette hair is tossed everywhere. Brunette – never a blonde, not after…

A cough escapes me as I turn to lather up. These girls act like they don’t know what they are getting into. They flock around me like flies to shit and wonder why I treat them as such. They all want to be the one to change me – I’m not a dog. I can’t be tamed.

I’m fully dressed in my uniform before I realize she left her purple socks. Oh, well. I toss them into the lost and found box in the corner. It’s almost full. I guess I’ll have to drop it off to the donation box soon. Strapping my gun belt around me, I check my watch. I’ll just have to pick up coffee on the way.

Fifteen minutes later, I collapse into the cruiser and start her up. She takes a few tries before the engine turns over and Patrol Patty, as I’ve named her, roars to life. It’s a miracle this vehicle is still running. It’s older than me and has more miles on it than the girls I take home at night. The passenger door creaks open. My partner, Matt, plops in, still eating his breakfast sandwich. The smell of eggs fills the car, causing my stomach to churn.

He glances over to me, while using his sandwich hand to point out the parking lot. “You look tired, Smithy. Long night?”

“Can’t complain.” My smirk gives me away as it always does. “We’re making a stop for coffee.”

“Maybe I should start bouncing. You never seem to run out of options.”

I laugh, pulling out onto the street, flicking the siren on, and zipping down the road as fast as old Patty can go.

“No, seriously.” He chews the last of the sandwich and crumples up the foil, tossing it onto the floorboard. “Are they hiring?”

I shrug. “I can ask.” The cruiser zooms through a red light at the intersection.

“Please, this summer has got to be better than this winter.”

“Everyone has a dry spell.”

“Dry? It’s like the Nevada desert! I think I’ve actually fractured my wrist.” He swirls his hand around for emphasis.

“Dude, too much information.” We share a laugh as old Patty continues to roar down the road. The siren is probably unnecessary. You can hear her engine coming a mile away, two, probably.

“What was it this time? Sheltered church girl? Just-turned-twenty-one partier? Cougar? Or just the typical drunk?”

“Nah, she was a total babe. Columbian, maybe.”

“Really?” Matt pauses, glancing out the foggy window before asking, “Are you going to call her?”

I shoot him a look. “Seriously?”

“Oh, I forgot – the Smith-Eternal-Bachelor rules.” He sighs. “You’ll get to a point where your rules go out the window because you’re going to want more than that.”

“I doubt it.” I whip the cruiser into the café parking lot. Flipping off the siren, I unbuckle my seat belt and grasp hold of the door handle.

“Trust me, dude, one of these days this is all going to catch up to you. You’re going to see—”

Slamming the door, I walk into the coffee shop. Matt doesn’t know crap. He’s fresh out of the academy. He wasn’t there for… her.