CHAPTER ONE

BRIANNA

My lips purse as I stare down at the smartphone in my hand.

The total amount due to the online lingerie store is more than I can spend tonight. Payday is still a week away, which means I’ll have to remove a few of the items from my shopping cart or not have money in the bank when my electricity bill gets automatically drafted on Tuesday.

Buying all of them now would mean I’d have to tap into the savings account my father set aside for me years ago. Hell would have to freeze over first.

Adulthood blows.

My salary blows even more.

I force a hard stream of air out through my mouth as I scroll back up, looking at each piece of lingerie and clothing, analyzing which ones are my least favorite.

None! Iwantthem all, dammit.

Harboring a clothing addiction while living on a cop’s salary... impossible.

Allowing my thumb to land on the screen where the “x” is, I remove the black see-through lace bikini panty, then do the same with the matching bra. My only justification is that I have a setalmostexactly like it.

Of course, the other one doesn’t have the cute little bow on the bra like this one does, but… oh well, maybe next time.

Huffing dramatically, I also delete the yoga pants and two sports bras. Before I talk myself out of everything, I hit the checkout button to wrap up my order. Once finalized, I only ended up buying one red and one light blue bra with a matching panty set. Both killer. Both will look great on my tan skin.

I’m giddy with anticipation already. I can’t wait for them to arrive next week. I have that kid in a candy store feeling but with no candy... yet. All smiles, though, and that’s enough for now.

“Hey, Andrews.”

My smile wanes.

After setting my phone on my desk, I look up, seeing the cold, hard eyes of fellow detective Lance Houston staring down at me.

“Yes?” I can’t help the annoyance laced within my voice.

“Need you to take a statement from a girl in room two.”

He firms his stance from across my desk then crosses his arms over his chest. His gunmetal gray gaze slides down, eyeing my phone like he wants me to know he’s caught me doing something I shouldn’t, like shopping while on the job. I don’t care what he thinks. I do my job, and I do it well—unlike other people.

Detective Houston has been in the unit five years longer than me. He loves to sport his seniority around to anyone with lesser years than him. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to prove. I couldn’t care less he’s more experienced than me.

“Can’t you handle it?”

It’s obvious he started the process if he placed her in one of the interview rooms.

“No,” he spits out in a way that grits on my last nerve. “It’s five after seven.” He shakes his head. “I’m not on call.” A slow smile curves up his lips, showing his coffee-stained teeth. “You are, sweet tits.”

Sexist pig.

I don’t react to his remark. I never do. That’s what he wants. That’s what all of them like him want.

Weakness.

Show it, and they’ll pounce.

Well, what they perceive as such; being a woman.

“Okay. I’ll take care of it.”