Page 5 of The Detective's Secret Santa

“I’m overdue,” he answers.

“Where do you live now?” I ask, stopping off at the laundry room to grab a set of towels out of the dryer.

“Which room is mine?”

I look up from my crouched position in front of the dryer to find him leaning in the doorway, looking away. I stare a few moments longer than I should. Taking in every delicious muscular inch propped against the door frame, enjoying the view a little too much. Preparing the fantasy I’ll no doubt play out tonight when I’m alone in my bed.

Yeah, I’m in serious trouble.

My gaze drops to his crotch, to a potential bulge. Maybe it’s just the way the denim has formed with the way he’s standing, but it’s enough to get my insides all gooey and tingly.

It would be so inappropriate to sleep with him. Yet, it’s all I can think about.

How fucked up is this?

“The one with all the bears,” I blurt out after a couple minutes of silence. The way he snaps his head back toward me makes nervous. I quickly stand, banging my knee against the open dryer door. “Dammit,” I grumble, cupping my hand over the likely bruised flesh, hobbling unsuccessfully.

“You okay?” I don’t register Bash moving from the doorway, but he’s by my side immediately. Standing so close that I can’t help but inhale his cologne. It’s some sexy mixture of sandalwood, clean linen, and man.

I’m rendered unable to answer him because his lips are so damn close. My gaze locks on them, imagining the way they’d feel pressed against mine. I grip my knee harder to keep myself from cupping his two-day stubble covered cheek. From sliding it up the back of his neck to draw him closer.

I lick my lips.

“Brook,” he whispers, the quiet warning loud and clear.

“Bash.” His name comes out in a raspy, breathless tone.

His eyes darken.

Bash leans in, closing the barely-there gap between us. Our breaths mingle. “We shouldn’t—”

“Hello? Anyone home?” Mom’s sing-songy voice erupts, splitting us apart like two teenagers nearly caught making out.

In the same swiftness that brought him to my side, Bash is out of the laundry room in a flash. Greeting my mom in the hardly used family room while I desperately try to slow my breathing. My fucking panties are soaked. If Mom hadn’t cut her shift short, I have no doubts I’d be sitting on top of the dryer with legs spread, Bash’s cock pounding into me.

I use a towel to fan myself.

One thing is abundantly clear: If I don’t steer clear of Sebastian Fraser, I am definitely going to sleep with him. More than once.

4

BASH

“You’ll keep this just between us for now?” Mayor Thomlinson repeats for the third time during the interview.

“Of course.”

“It’s just that Nash hasn’t announced his retirement. He wants to surprise his wife, you know. She’s been on him for the last few years to hang up his hat. Got a trip planned to take her to Ireland for the New Year. He’s been pulling double duty as chief and detective since Greg…”

“I completely understand. I won’t say a word.” It’s better that everything stays quiet for now. I haven’t officially been offered or accepted the job, but I’m a shoe in. Greg left me one helluva recommendation the mayor obviously hasn’t forgotten. But I don’t know how Brooklyn will feel about me moving to her hometown.

This could be crossing a line.

My attraction to Brook has never been in question these past three years. The sex would be out of this fucking world. But I want more than just her body. Much more than anyone might ever be okay with. Especially in a town this small, full of protective opinions.

All that aside, before I officially accept the position, I need to figure out if she plans to stay in Alpine Valley. It’s been easy enough moving from place to place when I was on my own. It’ll be harder to follow Brooklyn if I’ve accepted a small town detective position and she decides to move back to Houston or anywhere else.

“Do you have any other questions for me?” Mayor Thomlinson asks, pushing up from his chair and extending a hand to shake.

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