Page 8 of A Small Town Risk

“I will. Thank you.”

He walks away, and I get in my pickup and hit the road. I’m in the zone, two miles outside of Manning Falls, and don’t notice the cop car until it’s too late—just my luck.

CHAPTER FOUR

RYAN

I’m sitting in my patrol car on the side of the highway, when a truck pulling a U-Haul blows by and doesn’t bother tapping its brakes as it passes. I flick on my lights and follow until the driver notices me and moves over to the shoulder. Texas plates. Out-of-towner. What else is new.

I call it in and approach the passenger side of the white Chevy truck. I glance through the window and can’t believe my eyes. It’s Parker. What the hell is she doing here?

She’s on the phone when I tap on the window, and she jumps, startled.

“Roll down your window,” I say, twirling a finger.

She slowly lowers it and rolls her eyes at me.

“Do you know how fast you were going?” I ask.

She mutters something under her breath and says, “Just write the ticket so I can go.”

I grind my teeth and take a breath, seeking patience.

“Driver’s license and proof of insurance, please,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.

She digs through her purse and hands me her license. I can’t help but notice her shirt dipping low in the front, showing off her breasts in a pretty pink bra. I avert my gaze; she’s beautiful.

I see white paper being waved at me in my peripheral. Parker is holding the insurance slip. I take it from her.

“I’ll be right back with your ticket,” I say, turning toward my patrol car.

“Are you serious? You’re really giving me a citation?”

“You were speeding. I don’t have a choice.”

I call Peg to see if there are any outstanding warrants or tickets on the vehicle. I hope not.

“It’s clean. Parker Cole. Isn’t that Elle’s friend?” she asks over the radio.

Sometimes, I hate small towns, and this is one of those times.

“Yes,” I answer back. She knows by my tone that I won’t elaborate. She also knows better than to spread anything that goes on in the police station.

I finish writing out the ticket and walk back to the truck. Parker doesn’t notice me because she’s staring out the window, lost in thought.

I clear my throat. Her eyes seem sad when she looks over at me.

“Here you go. You can pay the fine at the station.”

She takes the ticket and looks at it before laying it on the seat next to her.

“Is there something else, or can I go?” she asks, her voice cold.

“Are you moving here? I thought you had a great job in Dallas.”

She chuckles, but it’s not a joyous laugh. “Great job? I worked my ass off, and…” She cries. Shit, I didn’t mean to upset her. I want to do something but don’t know what.

“Parker?”

---