Page 4 of The Rogue

She’s slender with a heart-shaped ass in fitted blue jeans. Skin that looks smooth enough to touch is exposed from the hem of a crunched-up plaid shirt tied at the waist.

An officer twice her size pushes her back down, and I’m on the move—weaving across the cubicle-crowded floor.

“Hell is going on in there?” I call out like I’m in charge.

“That’s Tessa Banks—a recent new hire and the reason we’re low on funds for the security initiative.”

“Theft?”

He sighs. “No. Messed with the computer. Somehow deleting all pending and delinquent violations in our system.”

“Onpurpose?”

“Probably. Holding her until we figure it out.” Wyatt sighs with frustration.

“I’ll help,” I tell him—no question in my tone.

He gives me a hard glare. “Levi, we’ve been over this. I appreciate your help, but you don’t have a badge. I’ve already broken all kinds of policies keeping you in the loop here, but—”

I put my hands up in defense. “I hear ya.” I glance to my right. “But doesn’t look like your boys are gettin’ anywhere over there. Perhaps someone without authority will minimize tension.”

He grunts, running a hand down his face. “Suppose it couldn’t hurt. Think the others are too charmed by Little Miss Country.”

Sure didn’t look like the man who pressed an unwelcome hand on her shoulder wastoo charmed. Fucker practically shoved her down like she’s a criminal.

I follow Wyatt into the room, hanging my hat on the hook by the door. The woman he referred to as Tessa earlier glances at the newcomers and does a double-take when she sees me.

“Who’s the stray?”

Sheriff crosses to the front of the room. “This is Levi Reeves. Local rancher and a good friend of the police department.”

I’d have answered for myself, but I’m too busy catching the breath this woman stole from me when I circled the room to stand before her.

Chestnut hair frames a beautifully freckled face—full pink lips, bright golden-brown eyes—whiskey eyes.

And a smirk that tells me she’s guilty as fuck.

I clear my throat, breaking the spell. But not my eyes, which are held tight by her fiercely determined ones.

The Sheriff nods his officers out of the room as I take a seat on the other side of the table.

Her cocky smirk widens as she leans forward. “Clever. Sitting across from me instead of hovering over my shoulder.”

“Thought your neck could use a break.”

She assesses me, then leans back in the chair. “So, no uniform, no badge. And I’m supposed to answer to you?” She releases a breathy laugh, brightening her face.

My reply is tight. “Tampering with police files isn’t something to smile about.”

Even if I could watch it all day.

“No. But being innocent is.” She flashes me her pearly whites.

I keep my eyes on her. “Wyatt, I’ll be out in a minute with a confession. This won’t take long.”

He hesitates, then nods and steps out.

She folds her arms. “Exactly when does 'this won’t take long’ business start? After you’re done eye-fucking me or during?”

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