Page 87 of Hot Cops

Landon sighed, but didn’t look up from the report he was filling in on his laptop. At least, not until his partner—and so-called friend—Miguel upended a sack of mail bigger than Santa’s on his desk, the surface overflowing with letters.

“What the fuck?”

“Fan mail,” Miguel said with a grin that told him his partner was getting too much pleasure from this.

Landon picked up a letter, peering at the feminine handwriting. “Jesus,” he muttered. He’d had to shut down his work email four days earlier when the mailbox filled up within sixteen hours. It was wreaking havoc on his ability to do his job effectively.

Apparently, the lonely hearts weren’t deterred by his lack of email and had decided to go old school. Legit love letters.

It had been a week since the video of him kissing Sunnie and carrying her toward the police car had gone viral. And instead of the hubbub dying down, it had only grown worse. Sunnie’s name had been leaked by a patient at Johns Hopkins, who’d recognized her as his nurse. So now, not only was there a crowd gathered daily outside the police station, but around Pat’s Pub as well.

Funny enough, the pub was faring better than the police station. Of course, the Collins family had been dealing with fan mobs for decades. After all, Sky Mitchell, singer of The Universe—a band whose record sales put them on par with The Beatles, the Eagles, and the Stones—was married to Sunnie’s aunt. Then they’d had those tabloid-chaser skills tested again last year when Teagan’s daughter, Ailis, started dating Hunter Maxwell, a huge up-and-comer on the music scene.

The problem with Sunnie’s name becoming public meant the scrutiny on both of them was now intense. He didn’t dare go to the pub because of all the eyes watching. The last thing they needed was a bunch of yahoos fighting to get close enough to snag a photo or bombard them with personal questions.

He wanted to protect her privacy as much as he could, but he hated that he hadn’t seen her since the morning after the attack. He’d stayed away after the mugging thinking a break might bring him some clarity about the kisses…and about his newfound feelings for her.

Two weeks. He hadn’t seen her in two weeks and all he’d done was think about her nonstop.

Sunnie had been like a sister to him for most of his life, but ever since that drunken kiss at April Fools, the blinders had fallen off. Now he wanted to do a fairly long list of dirty, dirty things with her that would have both Finn and Aaron kicking his ass.

The time away hadn’t helped. Not even a little bit.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with all this?” Landon asked.

Miguel started opening some of the letters, reading them aloud to the other cops.

Mandy, the dispatcher, walked by laughing. “It’s just likeSleepless in Seattle.”

Sadly, Landon knew that movie all too well. It was his mother’s favorite.

“Hey, Landon,” Miguel said. “If you’re not going to call,” his partner glanced at the signature of the letter he was reading, “Ashley, you mind if I do?”

Landon stood up and ripped the letter out of Miguel’s hand. “This isn’t a joke, man.”

“If you can’t laugh atthis,” Miguel said, pointing to the mountain of letters, “you’re going to be in trouble.”

“This was supposed to blow over in a day or two.”

“That was the captain’s estimate. And Aaron’s. I could have told you fifteen minutes of fame in this climate can last a few weeks, maybe months. You and Sunnie are serious YouTube superstars. When those top-of-the-charts shows start counting down the most viral videos in history, you two are going to rank right up there with ‘Charlie Bit Me’ and ‘Evolution of Dance’.”

“Shit.” Landon had hit his limit. Between the women following him everywhere, proposing everything from marriage to kinky sex acts he’d had to look up on Urban Dictionary, and the requests for interviews and photo shoots, he was running on very little sleep and less patience.

Miguel kept sifting through the letters. His eyes lit up. “Ooh la la. One from a dude. Yougottagive me this one. You’re straight.”

Miguel liked to brag that he straddled every line. Half-black, half-Hispanic. Bisexual. The guy said he could tick every minority box out there, and he loved it.

“Take the letter. Take them all. This is getting on my nerves.”

“Look on the bright side,” Miguel said, leaning on the edge of his desk. “Everyone has forgotten about the bumper sticker.”

Landon scowled. “You know what? Let’s go back to that. I prefer the bumper sticker jokes.”

Miguel’s eyes widened. “Damn man. Never thought I’d hear you ask for that.”

He and Finn had had a practical joke war running since junior year of high school, and currently, Finn was one up.

The son of a bitch had slapped a bumper sticker on his car of a weed plant with the words “Fuck the Cops.” Landon hadn’t noticed it, but the state police had, and they’d pulled him over for going five measly miles over the speed limit. When they’d run his license and discovered he was a cop too, they’d pointed out the bumper sticker, amused to find out it was a prank.

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