floor. He watched her every move, the anger he’d felt a few seconds before dissipating. As much as he wanted to throw her on the desk and fuck her, he wanted their first time to be special. Special? This woman has me all fucked up.
“We’re acting like a couple of animals in heat. We need to stop this.”
“We’re attracted to each other. I don’t see a problem.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Running his fingers through his hair, he laughed. “I want you and you want me, so let’s cut the shit. You can’t fight chemistry, baby.”
Clutching the portfolio against her chest, she said, “Yes, I can.” Walking over to the door, she looked over her shoulder. “And don’t call me baby.”
He winked at her. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
Letting out an exasperated huff, she opened the door and marched out of the office.
It was hot as fuck the way she was making him work for it. No woman had ever affected him the way she did. There was something about her that ignited a fire deep inside his darkness. He felt drawn to her in a way that both stymied and excited him.
“Women.” Chuckling, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and removed the piece of paper Ryan had given him with the name of Hannah Gleason scrawled across it.
In less than a minute, he had her address and place of employment. It always amazed him how willing people were to share every aspect of their lives on social media.
The Cole Brothers wouldn’t arrive at his office for another two hours, which gave him plenty of time to talk to the alleged victim about what she claimed Ryan had done to her. Smokey knew she was bullshitting, but he wanted to find out why. He had a nagging feeling that someone had put her up to this, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he found out the whole story. He ducked into the en suite bathroom, changed his clothes, and left the office.
The ride to Newberry’s on West Main Street was a short one. With its red and white striped awning, and white painted brick façade, the dime-store stood out among the brown brick buildings that lined both sides of the street.
Smokey took off his sunglasses and put them in his jacket pocket as he walked into the store. Cool air fanned his face as he stood by a bin of novelties, scanning the area. He was looking for a short, bleached-blonde woman with facial piercings. The store was busy, but that wasn’t a surprise. Newberry’s had been a town favorite for several decades. Replete with pressed tin ceilings, wood floors, and a candy counter, entering the dime-store evoked memories of simpler times, when life was lived at a much slower pace.
A tall, willowy woman wearing a red apron approached him. Turning, he walked in the opposite direction to avoid her, and that’s when he saw Hannah Gleason at the soda fountain in the back of the store. There were a few people seated at the counter, and another employee helping her out. Shoving both hands into his pockets, Smokey made his way toward her, and almost bumped into a trio of boys huddled around the gumball machine.
Hannah came over and wiped the marble counter, then set a glass of water in front of him. Light brown eyes moved over his muscled arms to his chest, then slowly up to his face where her gaze settled. She smiled wide.
“The specials are Frito pie and grilled egg salad with bacon and cheese. Oh, and homemade butterscotch ice cream. It’s real good.” Licking her lips, she leaned over the counter.
“When’s your break?” he asked.
Raising her eyebrows, she pulled the top of her uniform down a bit. “Why do you want to know?”
“Do you have to ask?”
Her face relaxed, her lips turning up into a wicked smile as she glanced over at a fellow soda jerk, then back to Smokey. “Hang on a sec.” The sway of her hips was exaggerated as she walked away.
A few minutes later, Smokey was behind the store with her. He leaned against the wall, one knee bent, his foot pressing flat against the bricks at his back. His gaze skimmed over the nametag on her uniform.
“We gotta talk, Hannah.”
“How do you know my name?” He pointed to the nametag on her uniform, and she giggled. “What’s your name?”
He ignored her question. “I’ve got a problem, Hannah—a big problem.”
She giggled again. “And you want me to fix it?” Her gaze shifted to