Page 4 of When It Snows

“The light?”

She switches the flashlight from her phone off and I can finally see her. And what a sight she is to see. Her dark brown hair is in a knot on top of her head and she’s wearing a pair of glasses over a pert nose. Her lips are pink and pouty. And when she smiles, she reveals a dimple on each cheek.

She could fulfill all of my sexy librarian fantasies. And, trust me, I have quite the imagination.

“Do you need any assistance?”

She freezes. “Weston?”

“Do I know you?” I rake my gaze over her snug sweater and jeans. She fits my naughty librarian fantasy to a tee. “I usually remember pretty women.”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you try to pick up all the women who you’re supposed to be helping?”

“No. Just the pretty ones.” I wink.

She shakes her head. “You never used to think I was a pretty one.”

“You have me at a disadvantage, darling. You seem to know who I am, but I must have temporary amnesia since I can’t remember you.”

“Darling?” She snorts. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

I waggle my eyebrows. “Why change perfection?”

“You can go now. I don’t need you and your smooth pick-up lines.”

“You’re the one who called the police,” I remind her.

“To ask if the whole island is without power. I didn’t ask them to send me a cop who’s one step up from a stripper.”

“Hey, now,” I growl. “I am a serious police officer.” When I need to be.

“Whatever. Thank you for stopping by. Goodbye.”

She tries to shut the door in my face but this isn’t my first rodeo. I stick my foot in the door jam.

“Do you need any help before I leave?”

She throws her arms in the air. “Now, he asks if I need help. He couldn’t be bothered to help me when I was getting bullied in high school. Nope. He laughed right along with my bullies. And now he’s a cop. Poor Smuggler’s Hideaway.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a good police officer.”

“And you didn’t hit me with lame pick-up lines when you arrived.”

I shrug. “I can be charming and do my job at the same time.”

“Consider your job finished, OfficeWeston.” She spits out my name and I remember she mentioned high school.

“Did you go to high school on Smuggler’s Hideaway?”

She crosses her arms over her chest and it takes all my willpower to keep my gaze focused on her face. Any other woman, I’d drop my gaze to her chest. I love how women’s breasts are pushed together when they cross their arms.

“Yes, I did. We graduated together. And in a class of twenty people, you don’t remember me. Thanks for reminding me of why I got the hell off this island the first chance I got.”

I scratch my beard as I study her. There was only one girl with dark hair who wore glasses in my class. “Scar the nerdy bookworm?”

“Are you serious? You’re using the mean nickname kids used during high school? So much for being a good police officer.”

“Sorry.” I shake my head. “I’m surprised to see you is all. I thought you left the island.”

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