Page 182 of Hot Cops

He hadn’t been standing on the street much time at all, but that wasn’t the point. “Long enough,” he muttered. Ordinarily, he’d have shrugged off the offense and issued the woman a warning. Problem was, he wasn’t in the mood to be generous. He was tired of being nice.

His cold response tweaked her temper—anger flared in her dark eyes and strangely enough, it pleased him. He was itching for a fight.

“I wasn’t in the liquor store more than ten minutes.” Her voice had lost some of its conciliatory tone.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? Whether you were double-parked for ten minutes or ten hours, it’s still a violation.”

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed by his haughty tone. “What are you, a cop?”

He grinned at her question and pulled the ticket out of his back pocket. “As a matter of fact…” He handed her the ticket, adding, “Detective Nolan.”

She muttered a softly spoken but clearly enunciated “fuck” under her breath. “Listen, Detective?—”

He cut her off. He’d heard every excuse in the book during his years patrolling the streets. One of the best parts about being undercover with the drug task force meant he wouldn’t be subjected to angry retorts, tearful pleas or seductive come-ons as women tried to get out of tickets. “Save it for the judge.”

“Judge?”

“You clearly want to protest this injustice.” He was sure to imbue as much sarcasm into his comment as possible. “You can lodge your complaint in court, not to me. I’m late for work. So if you don’t mind—” He gestured to her car.

Her eyes narrowed. “You know, you don’t have to be such a jerk about this. I wasn’t away from my car more than ten minutes.”

“And because your time is more valuable than mine, you felt justified in parking illegally, blocking me inandbreaking the law.”

“Are you kidding me? Don’t you have any real crimes to solve, Detective? You have nothing better to do than harass a law-abiding citizen?”

He raised his eyebrow at her comment. “Do you need me to define ‘illegal’ for you?”

She placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward slightly. “Oh wow. Hello, Mr. Power Trip. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it doesn’t cost anything to be nice?”

He released a bark of cold laughter. “What is it with you women? You want us to be nice when it suits you and bad boys when it doesn’t.”

The woman looked confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He shook his head. He was letting his anger at Cheryl carry over to the job. It was stupid and unreasonable. This woman didn’t deserve his abuse. However, before he could offer an apology or backtrack, the woman jammed the parking ticket into her jeans pockets. “Whatever. This sucks.Yousuck. Goodbye.”

She quickly walked to the driver’s side and climbed in. He regretted letting her leave the second she pulled away.

Shaking his head, he got into his own car, leaning his head against the headrest.

She was right.

He did suck.

CHAPTERTWO

Stephanie rubbeda weary hand over her face. The Romantic Hearts book club meeting was in full-swing as she dropped off the second round of Screwdrivers. She wasn’t sure what book they were discussing, but it must have been a hot one. The ladies were animated and laughing loudly over a certain racy passage.

It was only seven o’clock, but she felt like she’d been on her feet for years rather than a few hours. She was still stewing over the parking ticket in her pocket. She’d never met a more arrogant, condescending police officer in her life. She had half a mind to storm over to the police department and file a complaint against Detective Nolan.

The only thing holding her back was that ultimately she had been wrong. She should have known better than to do something so stupid. Her day had been one long string of bad luck. It only stood to reason that the first time she’d ever double-parked in her life, she’d block in a freaking cop. Murphy’s Law was having a lot of fun at her expense.

She hadn’t told the other girls about the ticket upon returning to the bar because she was equal parts irritated and embarrassed. She’d just carefully stepped over the mat, put the liquor bottles on the counter and gotten to work.

Surprisingly Thursdays were pretty good days for them, business-wise. In addition to the book club meeting, there were quite a few regulars who came to have a drink or two and unwind with a newspaper or the newest novels.

Speaking of regulars, Stephanie took a detour to a chair in the corner. “You need me to freshen up your drink, Elias?”

Elias Clark was Books and Brew’s most loyal patron. He came in two nights a week—Thursdays and Saturdays—and he always followed the same routine. He’d claimhischair in the quietest corner of the shop, drink two scotch and sodas—never more than two—and read the newspaper. Then he’d find Jayne and she’d talk him into buying a new book.

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