Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
And she does it with this sugary-sweet tone that makes my cock throb. The little minx knows exactly what she's doing to me, too. I know she knows because I fucking tell her every chance I get. But she won't even give me the time of day.
The first time I stepped foot in dispatch and saw her, she knocked me flat on my ass. She looked so goddamn beautiful with her blonde hair up in a messy bun, a pen stuck behind her ear, her blue eyes alight, and her laugh still ringing through the room. Her curvy body was wrapped up in a Sheriff's Department jacket. I've never wanted to be a fucking jacket until that second.
And then she saw me standing there, blinked those pretty eyes, and asked if I wanted something.
Apparently, "yeah, you" was the wrong answer. She's been mad as hell ever since, like a prickly little lamb. Only, this prickly little lamb assigns my calls.
Taunting a cranky dispatcher was not my finest moment.
Which is precisely why I'm chasing fucking goats down Broadway at eight o'clock on a Monday morning while she listens in on the radio, probably laughing her pretty little ass off.
She's going to marry me.
She just doesn't know it yet.
And I just haven't figured out how to make it happen yet. I've endured four full weeks of her torture so far. She isn't bending. I may need to get creative, or I may never get her out from behind that console and into my arms.
"What's your favor?" I ask Dillon…only because I have nothing else going on.
"I need someone on patrol on nights this week. Jacobson is out. His wife just gave birth."
"Fuck," I groan, tipping my head back. "How'd I pull the short straw?"
"You didn't. I'm asking you to volunteer."
"What happens if I say no?" I ask, not believing that bullshit for a minute. Dillon is too goddamn good at this game. He knows exactly how to hit us where it hurts and walk away looking like roses. The clever bastard.
"For you? Not a damn thing." He shrugs like it doesn't matter to him. "I'll just voluntell Ashton to work it." He pauses. "Molly likes him better than she likes you anyway."
I freeze, not even breathing. "Molly is working nights?"
"Yep." Dillon stretches his arms over his head. "All week. What do you think? Will Ashton last the full week before he asks her out?"
"You shady motherfucker," I growl when his lips twitch. He knows damn well that Ashton Gannon isn't interested in Molly. He also knows I am. I haven't exactly made a secret of it. He was in dispatch when I made the comment that pissed her off originally. The dick is dangling the prospect of her and Ashton in front of me to get what he wants. And it's fucking working.
There's no way I'm going to risk that shit happening. Hell no.
"I'll work the damn shift." It's no wonder people in this town love Dillon. He can play dirty with the best of them. The fucker.
He throws his head back, a loud crack of laughter bursting from his lips. "Goddamn, you're easy, Easton."
I hoist my middle finger in the air, scowling at him.
He slaps me on the back, still laughing.
"Just FYI, when she agrees to marry me, you aren't invited to the wedding."
An amused grin flashes across his face. "If she agrees to marry you, I'll pay for the goddamn wedding, motherfucker."
Well, shit. Looks like I need to get my ass in gear then. Dillon Armstrong has him a wedding to pay for. And I plan to invite every motherfucker in this town. Except Ashton.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, typing out a text.
Me: You aren't allowed to work nights.
Not even five seconds later, three little dots come up as Ashton types his response.
Ashton: LOL. She hates you, bro.
I scowl at the text. He's probably right. But I'm living in the land of delusion, so fuck him.
I send him back the middle finger emoji. Simple. Efficient. And it makes me feel better. Win-win.
An hour later, I step through the doors to dispatch, grinning.
Molly glances up from her console, sees me, and her blue eyes immediately narrow. "Aren't you off duty, Easton?"
"Yep." I smirk, striding toward her desk. "Came to see you, princess."
"You saw me. You can go now." She bats her lashes at me, a bite to her smile that makes me want to yank her out of that seat and kiss the fire from her lips.
"So eager to get rid of me," I tease.
"So, you can take hints." She eyes me levelly. "Imagine that."
Goddamn, she's perfect.
I chuckle, propping my hip against the side of her desk. I glance down, peeking at the paperwork spread across her console. "Break-in reports?"
She mumbles something under her breath.
"I didn't hear you, princess."