Page 6 of Cop-Off

“Says the thirty-year-old woman bumming around another country. Where exactly areyouworking, kitten?”

Her hands shot to her hips, the tell-tale sign she was readying to put him in his place. “I work remotely, douchecanoe. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“What, so your job is good with you pissing off to Wyoming for months on end?” This time he was genuinely curious.

Before Cat could unleash what he was pretty sure would be a string of obscenities, Libby interjected. “Actually, her company has a US office in San Francisco. It’s where Cat used to work, where we met.” She beamed. “Cat’s gonna transfer back to the US office, right?”

The question was met with silence. Cat’s battle stance even sagged. It didn’t take a genius to figure out more was at play here, which only intrigued him further.

“How come you’re here and not there, kitten? You come all this way just to play with me?”

“What part ofremote workingdon’t you understand, McBride?” Her spine was ramrod straight again. Death stare in full force.

“Answer me this then, why the hell are you transferring to another country’s office if you can work from anywhere?” Surely remotely meant she didn’t need an office, or was he just being a dumbass?

“Again, not that it’s any of your business but every now and then I have to go into an office. San Francisco would be my nearest one if I transfer.”

This was the closest they’d had to a conversation. Ever. Most of what he knew about Cat already had come from Zach or Libby. Not that he knew much. But the point was, she had never, ever, just offered up information. He still didn’t even know what she did for a living. Which was his next question. He might as well try and squeeze a little more out of her while he was on a roll.

“Huh.” He was going for nonchalant, so as not to scare her off. “So, what is it exactly you do, kitten? Ornithologist? Exterminator?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dust.

Again, it was Libby who interjected, obviously trying to keep the peace as Cat stared him down. “She’s a book editor for a big publisher. Isn’t that a cool job? She gets to read books all day!”

Itwasa cool job, and not what he was expecting at all. Cat didn’t come across as a bookworm. But to be fair, when it came to him, she didn’t come across as anything other than hostile. It would seem she was hiding a lot under that rock-solid defensiveshield. And for some reason, he was dying to tear it away and find out what else was under there.

“Well, you can beLord of my Fliesanytime, kitten. Just say the word.” He added the wink that almost always caused steam to come out of her ears.

“What are you ... twelve?” was her response.

It came at the same time Zach let out a sigh-laced, “Dude.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her angry grimace. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad day after all. He had a whole host of book-related jokes and pick up lines up his sleeve. And he intended on using every single one of them.

CHAPTER THREE

This week sucked. Not only had Cat not managed to lasso herself a hot cowboy, but some fucker had reported her dating profile and got her account suspended. Who even did that? You could not make this stuff up. Apparently, the population of Woodvalley were not a fan of horse humor. Or her.

In an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, she’d made her way down to the Tipsy Cow. The town’s only bar. Here she could both drown her sorrows and pick up a man the old-fashioned way.

To ensure that something actually went right this week, she’d made extra effort. Tonight, she was wearing her tightest jeans and had paired them with a cropped vest. Not too cropped though; she wasn’t a teenager, after all. She’d also put on a little more makeup than usual and added waves to her hair. If she couldn’t pick up someone tonight, she was doing something seriously wrong.

All eyes turned on her as she entered the bar. Hopefully that was a good thing. Especially as she’d already spotted a few cowboy hotties. First things first though, she needed a drink.

Heading straight for the wooden-top bar, she felt herself smiling at all the random neon signs covering the walls. Was that a fish eating another fish?

To her surprise, she had company the moment her butt hit the stool. But it wasn’t the type she was looking for. It was the complete opposite.

“Are you following me, McBride?” She cocked her head accusingly.

Pulling up an unwelcome stool, he made himself comfortable. “I’m not sure they serve milk here, kitten.”

She’d come to the conclusion recently that Cody McBride was the ultimate mind-fuck. One minute he was ribbing her, the next he was oozing sex. Taking his flirting to an almost obnoxious level. Well, she was sick of it. Tonight might just be the night to find out once and for all what the hell his problem was.

Slowly twisting in her seat, she let one leg drop in between his while the other rested against his thigh, and leaned in. All the while, letting her eyes bore into melting caramel. Putting on her sultriest voice, she let her knuckles trail down his face and through his freshly trimmed beard. “Actually, officer, I prefer cream. The whipped kind.” Just because she could, she dragged her tongue across her lower lip. Feeling satisfied as his eyes followed the movement. “It’s a little messier ... and stickier. But all the best things are, right?”

Ah-hah! She saw that. A gulp. She’d made him gulp. So it wasn’t all in her head —he did want her. On some level.

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