Page 4 of Mac
The warm Southern spring air hit him as soon as he exited the building. Stars hovered above and the moon hung like a Christmas ornament against a backdrop of white, twinkling lights.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” Mac groused to himself. “When did you get so poetic?”
He shook his head. It was something she brought out in him. Only her.
He loved her.
He’d been in love with her since he caught her breaking and entering. and she backtalked when he told her to keep her mouth shut. He hadn’t wanted to hear why she’d been trying to get into the tattoo parlor at three in the morning. He hadn’t wanted to hear that she’d forgotten her key and couldn’t reach Jaz to get him to let her in.
He hadn’t wanted to hear shit from her lips. He’d only wanted to kiss her, to taste her, to take her home and not leave her bed for a week.
He’d been hooked on her ever since.
He’d been a cop for three years on their five man police force at the time. He was the sheriff now and he still wanted her. More than ever.
