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Brother’s Cop Friend
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A small-town police chief. A girl who needs his help. A past they can’t deny…and a future they never expected.
The last thing Devon Wainwright wants is to have to go back to her hometown. She left for a reason…but now, her father is missing and she needs her deadbeat brother’s help finding him again. With her dad in the midst of a gambling addiction that has him caught up with some dangerous people, she knows that she doesn’t have time to waste. So she walks into the first bar she sees looking for her brother, and comes across the last guy she ever expected to see.
Now a small-town cop, Devon grew up crushing hard on her big brother’s best friend, but the age gap was so big that he never noticed her…until now. As adults, their chemistry is beyond intense. But Tom has a reputation, and Devon has never opened herself up to someone like him before. As Tom gets involved in the increasingly-dangerous search for her absent father, the sparks between them become impossible to deny – but neither of them is prepared for where their hot-and-heavy fling is going to land them…
*Brother’s Cop Friend is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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I’ve been a cop long enough to know trouble when I see it. And as soon as I see her, I know she’s trouble on two legs.
The whole bar stills to take her in as she enters. Same goes for every out-of-towner who comes through this place. But she’s got something else – her messy blonde hair swept over one shoulder, her jeans and beat-up tee hanging loosely around her slim frame, those green eyes that dart back and forth around the room as though she is looking for someone. I can’t take my eyes off her. I finish my drink, tossing back the last of the scotch in my glass, and watch as she makes her way over to the bar. I notice a smattering of freckles over her nose and her cheeks, sweet and wholesome, offsetting her grungy appearance. She’s a little damp from the Michigan weather outside, her cheeks flushed.
I know her from somewhere. I can’t put my finger on where, but I know her. Something about those sharp green eyes reminds me of someone, or something. Whoever she is, I’m hard-pressed to believe that we’ve met before. I would have remembered her. Even now, as I look at her, I can feel her burning herself on to my memory, the shape of her sketched-in before I have a chance to think twice.
The bar is quiet tonight, just a handful of March Point locals filling out the sticky stools at the counter, a couple of teachers from the school down the street, some construction workers from Harvey’s across town. And then, in the middle of them all, this girl. This girl who couldn’t look less like she belongs here. Can’t be older than twenty-two maybe, walking about in that grown-up body like she’s still getting used to it.
“Excuse me?” She asks as she arrives at the bar. She is trying to catch the attention of Marie, the barmaid, but she’s distracted drying a glass and slipping it away.
“Excuse me, I’m here looking for someone-” She tries again, but before she can continue, she’s interrupted.
“I think it might be me you’re looking for, sweetheart,” one of the construction workers, all leery eyed and grabby hands, announces loudly as she speaks. She shoots an irritated look at him, and continues trying to get Marie’s attention. But he’s not taking no for an answer.
He reaches out and slides his arm around the girl’s waist. She practically leaps away from him, like his hand is hot metal. I get to my feet and stride towards them – if he thinks I’m going to let this happen right in front of me, he’s got another thing coming.
“All right, all right, back up,” I order the man firmly, and he takes one look at me – still in uniform where I just came off my shift – and withdraws his hand. The woman looks at me, and close-up, she’s even more striking. Her lips are soft and pink and I want to sink my teeth into them like ripe fruit. They part slightly, as though there’s something she wants to say to me but doesn’t know how. I put an arm around her and guide her back to my table; she shifts against me, pressing her body into mine as though she’s relieved that I’m there.
“Thank you, officer,” she sighs as soon as we get away from the man. I shake my head and point to my drink.
“I’m off-duty,” I tell her. “Just call me Tom.”
“Okay, Tom,” she replies with a nod, and she pushes her hand through her hair and sighs. A waft of her perfume passes through the air – sharp and zesty, fresh. I wonder if she sprayed it on to her neck and let the drops roll down between her generous breasts…
“You need help finding someone?” I ask her, distracting myself from where my thoughts are heading. She nods again.
“Who is it?” I ask. “I know most everyone in this town, maybe I can help you out.”
“His name’s Adam Wainwright,” She explains.
“Adam Wainwright?” I repeat after her. Because I know that name.
Adam and I have been friends for what feels like several lifetimes now, but really, we’ve known each other for a couple of decades, since we were both kids. He’s my best friend, even though our lives couldn’t have taken much different tracks. He’s a college dropout, a wannabe artist who spends most of his time taking work under the table to make his rent, and relying on me, his cop best buddy, to keep him out of the worst of his trouble. What did he do to get this fine-ass woman searching for him?
“Yes, Adam Wainwright,” she confirms. “I’m Devon Wainwright. He’s my brother. And I need to see him as soon as possible.”
I sink back into the thick, stiff pillows scattered over my hotel bed, and let out a long sigh. I never wanted to come back here. Not if I could avoid it. But it’s not like I have any choice right about now.