Page 12 of Scotch & Shortbread

One of the men leered towards her, grabbing the tie around her waist from behind. Alex was out of his truck in an instant, and he headed towards her, anger boiling dangerously in his veins as he pulled himself up to his full breadth and width. Drunk or not, guys like these, the ones who felt privileged to prey on women for sport, disgusted him. He never understood it. Salacious fuckers.

The guy who now roughly turned Quinn to face him clocked Alex almost immediately and to Alex’s satisfaction he saw his eyes widen in fear before he released her and hastily turned back towards the door and slipped inside. His buddies turned, and seeing Alex coming, they wasted no time dropping their cigarettes and high-tailing it out of there too.

As Quinn walked out of the bar, she snugged her thin wool coat tighter around her. The crisp mountain air had turned frigid, and it didn’t help that her little blouse was still damp against her skin. She was focused on getting to the inn as quickly as possible without freezing to death or falling for that matter. It was slippery with the new falling snow, and she now regretted wearing her strappy high heels.

The wind was blowing around icy snow. She was vaguely aware of the group of guys she passed as she stepped out. When they started catcalling her, all she could think was that she needed to get the heck out of there and fast.

She felt the tug on the back of her coat, and suddenly, she was tangled up against some dude. They were almost both falling over, the overwhelming smell of his smoke and alcohol breath accosted her as he leered towards her face, muttering something about giving him one kiss before he’d let her go. Quinn’s mind was fuzzy despite the fear that tore through her.

Trying to get her feet balanced under her, she was about to throw a knee into his groin when he abruptly let her go and practically ran inside. Quinn was momentarily dumbfounded as the other two guys followed suit. Not sure what changed their minds, but thanking her lucky stars all the same, she huddled her coat up around her ears, tucked her head, and turned to get the heck out of there.

Hurrying through the small parking lot with her head down, she suddenly slammed into a solid wall. Before knowing what had happened, she registered strong arms steadying her, and just as quickly, they released her. It all happened in a flash.

Gathering her bearings, Quinn realized she’d run right smack into the cop. Relief washed over her that it was him and not another creepy dude. At least, she knew she wasn’t in danger now. The guys behind her had made her more nervous than she cared to admit.

For a hazy drunken moment, Quinn savoured being rescued in solid comfort Mean Hot Cop’s ridiculously strong arms. She could have romanticized the thought to no end. But then it occurred to her how quickly he’d released her, and she’d barely caught her balance. Glancing up into his too-handsome face, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find him scowling at her, as per usual. Why did he seem to dislike her so much?

“Are ye all right?” His tone was serious despite his charming Scottish brogue. That voice, so deep and rich, seemed to rumble through her. Why’d he have to sound so hot? His intense blue eyes locked on hers, and she swore she could feel the sizzle right down to her frozen toes. He towered over her like he had last night, but this time, it made her feel safe.

Swallowing, she glanced back towards the door.

“They are gone,” he stated seeming to know the direction of her thoughts.

“Good.” She nodded, letting the relief sink in that they were no longer a threat. “I’m fine. No harm done.”

Putting two and two together, Quinn now understood why those guys took off in a hurry. They must have seen Mean Hot Cop coming. The thought made her giggle, pleased to know he’d scared the shit out of them. She grinned up at him. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Ye shouldna be leavin’ the bar alone.” He was still scowling at her, and Quinn was reminded why he irritated her.

The only problem was that he also seemed to make her heart flutter. Like right now. He stood so close to her. She could practically feel the heat emanating off his black uniform-clad body and onto hers. She swayed towards him. Whether to feel more of his heat or because of the last two liquor shots swimming in her veins, she wasn’t sure. The silver handcuffs attached to his black belt caught in the light, and her mind ricocheted back to her dream. Heat tingled between her thighs.

He cleared his throat, pulling Quinn out of her reverie. God, what was she thinking? This was the same cop who had been such an ass to her. Twice.

“Well, thanks then,” she muttered reluctantly through chattering teeth as she quickly sidestepped him to carry on her way. It was freezing, and she was not firing on all cylinders. She just wanted to get back to the inn and crash.

“Have ye been drinking?” he asked disapproval clear in his lilting voice.

Oh, here we go!she thought,back to being a jerk.“Is that the only question you cops are taught to ask?” she snapped sarcastically. “I did just come out of a bar.” She gestured overtly behind her. Was he seriously going to give her a hard time again? The glare on his too-handsome face was cool enough to keep ice cream from melting on a hot summer’s day, sending a shiver up her spine.

It pained her that despite his being all Mean Cop again, she couldn’t seem to stop thirsting after him. Quinn hated that her tipsy brain found him appealing in any way. Her rational mind couldn’t stand the beast, but her undersexed, lacking-in-the-man department brain just saw a damn near-perfect specimen of a male who could explode her dry streak into oblivion. Lord, help her.

“Ye best not be driving then.” His voice was edged with steel, and his blue stormy eyes were full of warning.

It was a look that was meant to strike fear and leave someone shaking in their boots—or high heels as it were. It was probably the look he’d given those creeper dudes that made them disappear faster than Houdini. Quinn didn’t think though. She just reacted and threw him an incredulous look at such a ridiculous remark.

“No shit, Sherlock, ” she snapped and then immediately realized she’d said the quiet part out loud. Oh jeez, she’d definitely blame that one on Tanya’s washroom shots.

Christ, he would have laughed if she didn’t frustrate the hell out of him. In fairness, it was the kind of comeback he’d probably say. Keeping his features schooled, he warned her, “There are few cabs tonight with it being Christmas time. How do ye intend on getting home, Ms. West?”

“I think these legs should do the trick. I’m walking, Mr. Officer,” she quipped, patronizingly tapping a hand on the top of her thigh.

The gesture hit Alex squarely in the groin as he noted the soft-looking skin of her curvy thighs. An image popped unbidden into his mind of those lush legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. He blinked it away, stunned at the lightning speed his mind conjured it up. What in the fuckin’ name of Mary was wrong with him?

Quinn had started to tromp through the snow away from him.

“Ye cannae be serious,” Alex bit out. “Ye cannae walk in those bloody spikes ye call shoes in this snow. Ye’re no’ dressed properly for this weather. Ye’ll catch ye’r death,” he snapped with a heavy Scots brogue.

A feminine scoff escaped her. “I’m fine thanks, Dad,” she mocked as she slipped and slid, trying to walk on.

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