Page 2 of Curvy Girl for the Cop

I'm startled from my reverie by the thud of a book on the counter. I glance up to find him looming over me, a paperback between us. His fingers drum an impatient beat on the worn wood.

"Find everything you were looking for?" I hate the tremor in my voice.Get a grip!

A ghost of a smile, there and gone. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but it'll do."

I ring him up on autopilot, hyper-focused on keeping my hands steady. Our fingers brush as I hand him the receipt. A jolt of awareness, a live wire.

His gaze snaps to mine, searching. I wonder if he felt it too. The crackle of connection, the swoop low in my belly. Dangerous territory.

"I'm Ryan. Ryan Callahan." An offer. Or a warning.

"Ava. Dawson. Obviously." I cringe inwardly. Real smooth.

A real smile this time, just a quirk of his lips. "Thanks for the help, Ava Dawson. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

Is that a threat or a promise? He's out the door before I can decide, the bell jingling in his wake. I slump against the counter, boneless.

What the hell just happened? And why do I suddenly feel like Little Red Riding Hood who's just caught the eye of the Big Bad Wolf?

Pine Hollow just got a whole lot more interesting.

Lord help me, indeed.

My thoughts swirl as I close up the shop. The memory of his touch, the weight of his gaze, and the way my name sounded like a secret on his lips.

I head home, my mind abuzz with images of his dark hair, his tall frame.

Those eyes that seemed to see right through me…

I settle into my cozy couch, book untouched on my lap. The fire crackles, but it's no match for the flames his presence ignited within me.

I can't afford to fall for another city boy, I remind myself. I can control my wayward heart. I have to.

But as I drift off to sleep, the contours of Ryan's face linger in my dreams, and I wonder if I'm already too late.

The fire in the hearth crackles, casting shadows that dance across the walls of my cozy cottage. In my mind's eye, I see him again, standing in my shop, leaning over the counter as if he were about to devour me whole. The heat between us had been palpable, the tension thick enough to slice with a knife.

I blush, remembering how my heart had raced when he'd looked at me. Heat pools between my thighs as I replay our conversation in my mind. His smirk, his confidence, the way his shirt had clung to his chest, accentuating every rippling muscle.

Restless, I toss and turn, unable to banish the memory of his eyes from my thoughts.

two

?. . .?

Ryan

Damn,there's something about her.

Ava Dawson, the curvy, shy-but-not-really bookstore owner. She's different from the women I'm used to. No airs, no games. Just a girl who knows her books and has curves in all the right places.

My mind's in the gutter, but I can't help it. Last thing I need is to complicate my life, but the pull is there, like a magnetic force.

I refused to allow myself to go back to the bookstore today.

Still, I can't shake her from my thoughts.

I tell myself she's off-limits. I'm just passing through, and she deserves more than a fling.

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