Lucy and The Lieutenant. Helen Lacey

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      Great...

      A few cars passed, all clearly intent on getting home before the snow worsened. Lucy grabbed her bag and pulled out her cell. She could call her automobile club for assistance, but that meant she’d be dragging mechanic Joss Culhane out to give her a tow home. And Joss was a single dad with two little girls to look after and had better things to do than come to her rescue because she’d forgotten about the battery light that had been flashing intermittently all week.

      Better she didn’t. She was just about to call Kayla to come and get her when she spotted something attached to one of the old buildings flapping in the breeze. A shingle. Recognition coursed through her.

      The Loose Moose. Brant’s place.

      A light shone through one of the front windows. He was home. She knew he lived in the apartment above the tavern. Of course she’d never been up there. But Colleen Parker had told her how he was renovating the tavern while residing in the upstairs rooms.

      Lucy got out of the car and wrapped herself in her red woolen coat. Surely, Brant would help her, given the circumstances?

      She grabbed her bag and locked the car before she headed toward the old tavern. The old adobe front was boarded up, apart from the two windows, and the heavy double doors were still blackened in spots from the damage caused by the fire eight months before.

      Lucy knocked once and waited. She could hear music coming from inside and discreetly peered through one of the windows. There were trestle tables scattered with power tools and neat stacks of timber on the floor near the long bar, and the wall between the remaining booth seats and the back room that had once housed pool tables had been pulled down. She knocked again, louder this time, and then again. The music stopped. By the time the door swung back she was shivering with cold, her knuckles were pink and her patience a little frayed.

      Until she saw him. Then her mouth turned dry and her knees knocked for an altogether different reason.

      He wore jeans and a navy sweater that molded to his shoulders and chest like a second skin. His dark hair was ruffled, as though he’d just run a hand through it, and the very idea made her palms tingle. His blue eyes shimmered and his jaw was set tightly. He looked surprised to see her on his doorstep. And not one bit welcoming.

      But, dear heaven, he is gorgeous.

      She forced some words out. “Um, hi.”

      “Dr. Monero,” he said, frowning. “It’s a little late for a house call, don’t you think?”

      She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. There was no welcome in his words. She jutted her chin. “Oh, call me Lucy,” she insisted and then waved a backward hand. “My car has stopped just outside. I think it’s the battery. And I didn’t want to call for a tow because my mechanic has two little kids and I thought it was too much to ask for him to come out in this weather and I was wondering if... I thought you might...”

      “You thought I might what?”

      Lucy wanted to turn and run. But she stayed where she was and took a deep breath. “I thought you might be able to help. Or give me a lift home.”

      His brows shot up. “You did?”

      She shrugged. “Well, I know it’s only a few blocks away, but the paths are slippery and the snow doesn’t seem to be easing anytime soon.”

      His gaze flicked upward for a second toward the falling snow and then to her car. “Give me your keys,” he instructed and held out his hand.

      Lucy dropped the keys into his palm and watched as he strode past her and to her car. He was in the car and had the hood up in seconds. Lucy tucked her coat collar around her neck and joined him by the vehicle. He closed the driver’s door and moved around the front, bending over the engine block. Lucy watched, captivated and suddenly breathless over the sheer masculine image he evoked. There was something elementally attractive about him...something heady and fascinating. Being around him felt as decadent as being behind the counter in a candy store. He had a narcotic power that physically affected her from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. And she’d never responded to a man in that way before.

      Not even close.

      Sure, she’d crushed on several of the O’Sullivan or Culhane brothers back in high school. But Brant Parker had never been far from her thoughts. Returning to Cedar River had only amplified the feeling over the years. Being around him made her realize how real that attraction still was. She liked him. She wanted him. It was that simple. It was that complicated.

      “Battery’s dead,” he said, closing the hood.

      Lucy smiled. “Well, at least that means I remembered to put gas in the tank.”

      He didn’t respond. He simply looked at her. Deeply. Intently. As if, in that moment, there was nothing else. No one else. Just the two of them, standing in the evening snow, with the streetlight casting shadows across the sidewalk.

      “I’ll take you home,” he said and walked back toward the Loose Moose.

      Lucy followed and stood by the doors. “I’ll wait here if you like.”

      Brant turned and frowned. “I have to get my jacket and keys, and my truck is parked out back. So you might as well come inside.”

      He didn’t sound like he wanted her in his home. In fact, he sounded like it was the last thing he wanted. But, undeterred, she followed him across the threshold and waited as he shut the door.

      “You’ve been busy,” she said as she walked through the room and dropped her bag on the bar. “The renovations are coming along.”

      “That was the idea when I bought the place.”

      Lucy turned and stared at him. He really was a disagreeable ass. She wondered for the thousandth time why she wasted her energy being attracted to him when he made no effort to even be nice to her.

      Not one to back down, she propped her hands on her hips. “You know, I was wondering something... Is it simply me you dislike or people in general?”

      His jaw tightened. Hallelujah. Connection. Something to convince her he wasn’t a cold fish incapable of response. His gaze was unwavering, blistering and so intense she could barely take a breath.

      “I don’t dislike you, Dr. Monero.”

      She shook her head. “My case in point. I’ve asked you half a dozen times to call me Lucy. The very fact you don’t speaks louder than words. I know you can be nice because I’ve seen you with your mom and brother and nieces. At least when we were kids you were mostly civil...but now all I get from you is—”

      “You talk too much.”

      Lucy was silenced immediately. She looked at him and a heavy heat swirled between them. She wasn’t imagining it. It was there...real and palpable. And mutual. As inexperienced as she was, Lucy recognized the awareness that suddenly throbbed between them.

      Attraction. Chemistry. Sex.

      All of the above. All very mutual.

      And she had no real clue what to do about it.

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